Page 49 of Between Love and Honor

He exhaled a sigh of relief. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Contact me as soon as you have something,” she ordered before signing off.

Ben dropped back into his chair. He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or howl. For the past twenty-four hours, his gut had been telling him there was more to Quinn than met the eye. Most of the puzzle pieces had finally fallen into place. Except for the most important one. How did he fit into the mystery?

There was only one way to find out. It was time for her to tell the truth. He headed downstairs determined to ferret it out of her, one way or another.

CHAPTER 11

QUINN SEARCHED THROUGH all the closets on the first floor, even the pantry, with no sign of the tux. In fact, aside from the few staples Rich had supplied them with and a rogue beer in the fridge, there were no signs that anyone frequented the lighthouse at all. It was almost as if the gorgeous home was for show only. The place lacked any photos or personal effects. If she didn’t know better, she’d think she’d stepped into an operative’s cover house. She should know. She’d lived in enough of them.

“James Bond, indeed,” she mumbled to herself.

Ben had been secluded upstairs for more than an hour. During that time, there hadn’t been a sound from above. No shower running. No television droning on. No footsteps thumping on the floor. She was beginning to wonder if he was asleep.

Or dead.

Her heart stuttered at the thought. He might need help. She should definitely go up and check on him. It was as likely of an excuse as any if he caught her snooping.

She ventured over to the spiral staircase leading up to the top floor. When she looked up, she realized the steps led all the way to the torch room. She thought back to when Ben had first brought her here. There’d been a bedroom and a loo, along with a chart room, on the second floor. He could be in either place.

Using great care to keep her steps quiet, she climbed the stairs, thankful that at least the metal didn’t squeak.

When she reached the second floor, muffled sounds came from the torch room. There was a heavy metal door separating it from the rest of the lighthouse. If she was lucky, that was where Ben had been hiding all this time.

She glanced into the chart room. It was outfitted with a couple of upholstered chairs situated in front of a picture window overlooking the bay side of the peninsula the lighthouse was built upon. The storm had moved out to sea leaving behind a cotton candy sky of puffy clouds tinted pink by the setting sun. The room and its view were so inviting, Quinn had a hard time redirecting her attention to the bedroom across the hall.

But when she did, the sight greeting her stole her breath. If the rest of the place was gorgeous, this room was stunning. A wall of windows served as a headboard for the king-sized platform bed dominating the space. Darkness had already descended on the Atlantic and the room was in shadows, but she could easily tell the room’s décor was a mixture of grays and blues—the soothing colors of the ocean.

Best of all, unlike the rest of the lighthouse, this room looked lived in. A towel hung from the knob of the toilet door. A pair of gym shorts were in a heap on the floor next to the bed. And, if she wasn’t mistaken, right beside them was a crumpled tuxedo. Her heart was racing when she dropped to her knees beside it.

“Come to mummy,” she whispered.

Very carefully, she dug through the pockets of the jacket. The micro card was the size of a thumbnail so it would be simple to drop into the pocket without being noticed.

But it would also be easy to overlook. And even easier to lose in the dark room.

The first pocket was empty. Not even a trace of lint.

Her heart was pounding now. It had to be in the other pocket.

It just had to be.

Except it wasn’t.

Breathing hard, she reached back into the first pocket to double-check. When she grabbed at the pants, she froze.

On the floor, six inches from her fingers, was a pair of worn boat shoes. Unfortunately, they were attached to the denim clad legs of Ben Segar.

“Looking for something?”

Heart in her throat, she rocked back onto her heels.

How had she not heard him coming? The circumstances of this case were affecting her well -honed skills. A mistake like that could have gotten her killed. Thankfully, he looked more amused than murderous with his shoulder propped against the doorframe and his arms crossed over his chest.

“I didn’t hear anything from up here and I thought to come up and check on you. You weren’t around so I was just tidying up,” she fibbed.

The man actually laughed at her. And not just a polite chuckle, either. It was a full-on belly laugh.

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