Page 15 of Big Daddy Sheriff

“Much obliged,” Quinn replied with a nod. “I’m going to grab her suitcase out of the back here.” He reached in, took out the single piece of luggage, and shut the door. “Thanks again, Clyde.”

“Just give me a couple of days. I’ll have to order a few of those parts.”

“She’s good until then,” Quinn said, already rolling the suitcase out the open garage door.

“Hey, Quinn?”

Quinn turned around.

“You think she’s the sweet Little you’ve been looking for?”

Quinn could hardly suppress a grin. He tried hard, though. He didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up. Especially his own.

“Hell, Clyde, I just met her. She’s just a gal in town to visit a friend.”

Clyde snorted, smiling. “Amighty pretty galin town to visit a friend.”

Quinn nodded. He couldn’t dispute that. It was fact.

Without another word, he headed out, deciding to pick up the suitcase so the hard street didn’t hurt the wheels. It only took him a few minutes to walk to his house. He came in quietly, just in case Alyssa was asleep.

It was a good thing, because that turned out to be the case.

As he poked his head into the extra bedroom, he saw a sight that warmed his heart and awoke every Daddy instinct he had.

Alyssa was asleep in the Little bed. She’d found one of the stuffed bears from the toy box and was hugging it tightly.

Quinn battled the urge he felt to go pick her up and carry her to his bed. It was hard, but he managed to refrain somehow.

Maybe he’d hold her tight and take care of her when she woke up. That was, if she’d let him.

The Daddy inside was roaring to get out. It was a battle to keep him caged.

He’d only known the woman a couple of hours, and already he was wondering if he’d win that battle.

It sure was getting harder by the second.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Back in Little Rock, Hector Foster and Bruce Monahan stood in Alyssa’s garage apartment.

Hector kept watch, staring out the front window, while Bruce finished searching the place.

“You find anything?” Hector asked.

Bruce grunted. He was a man of few words.

Another minute passed. Bruce finally said, “Not even sure what we’re looking for.”

“Anything that ties Lana to any crimes.”

Bruce sidled up next to Hector and stared out the window, too. Ahead, they could see the driveway and, off to the side, the back of the main house. “The Feds already have plenty. You know that.”

“I know,” Hector agreed. “But you know how my cousin is. She’s thorough.”

Bruce grunted again. He nonchalantly sidestepped a few paces, giving himself just a bit of distance without appearing rude. Hector smelled too much like cough drops and cigarettes mixed with cologne. He’d never understood the proper amount for any of those things—not that there was a proper amountwhen it came to cigarettes. If Hector wanted to tear up his lungs, so be it. That was his business, Bruce figured.

“There’s nothing here. We need to leave before the homeowners get back,” Bruce said.

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