Fantasy Man (9 page)

Chapter Thirteen

Days later Quinn and Reif had reached an uneasy truce, tiptoeing carefully around one another. Quinn despised the tracking bracelet around her wrist. She understood Reif wanted to protect her. She wanted him to, as long as he allowed her to do exactly as she pleased. But this? This was some messed up controlling shit. What was next, a shock collar?

As compromises went, she supposed it wasn’t so bad. He hadn’t forbidden her to leave the house without him. He hadn’t insisted she give up her job. But it was the principal of the thing that irked her. And his understanding behavior only increased her irritation.

Every day she checked the phone Tony had sent with her, just in case. She stared at the envelope she was supposed to give to Reif when she arrived and asked herself if this was the day she’d hand it over. Then she’d shove both of them back in the padded manila envelope and push it to the back of the drawer.

Her morning runs and the amount of time she spent alone each day gave her lots of time to think. Memories of Julio haunted her. He had been more than just her co-worker. He had been her secret friend, one of many little rebellions she’d made against her family—little because those were the only kind she could get away with.

Julio had happily been part of her mini adventures. At her insistence he’d even taught her Spanish swear words and how to smoke weed. He was just a kid and he’d been in that garage with her and he’d died because of her.

Wearing the camera and reporting to the task force had seemed thrilling but harmless. Like the time she’d tandem skydived, an outing that Tony and her dad still knew nothing about. But this time she hadn’t landed safely. And Julio had died.

God, she was pathetic. If she’d stood up to her father and Tony before, if they’d let her have a life—no, if she’d taken charge of her life before now, she and Julio wouldn’t even have been in that garage.

When she looked at it like that, she resented her father and brother. But more than that, she loathed herself for not having a backbone to stand up to them. She thought of all the impulses she’d squelched, the invitations she’d been forced to turn down, the natural spontaneity she’d buried.

The moment she’d realized her life might be cut short, she’d decided no one was going to tell her how to live again. It was her life, dammit. Hers to risk. Hers to make choices with, and to live with the consequences.

Reif’s need to keep her safe and her need for freedom had run smack into each other and the bracelet was where they collided.

Earlier this Saturday morning they’d quietly gone about the business of having breakfast. Reif had buried his nose in the sports section of the LA Times while Quinn pretended her bowl of granola fascinated her. She’d escaped and gone upstairs to dress for the beach, without a word of her plans to Reif.

One of the cooks at Antonia’s had invited her and she’d said yes. Nick Reynolds was in his third year at Santa Rosa University, a business major. He was the kind of guy who made friends out of just about everyone he met. In that context he was hard to resist, so when he’d made a general invitation to everybody at Antonia’s yesterday to join him at the beach, she’d accepted, telling him she’d need a ride.

“No problem. I’ll pick you up around ten. Just tell me where.”

“I’ll meet you here, if that’s okay.”

Nick had looked curious about that but he hadn’t asked why.

Now all she had to do was edge past Reif and get out of the house without making a scene. There shouldn’t be a scene, she reminded herself as she glanced at the bracelet. He’d know exactly where she was the entire time.

She put on her swimsuit, although she had no intention of swimming. The water off the coast of California was not like the water off the Gulf of Mexico or even that of the Miami shore. The waves were bigger, the water colder. Even with the sun out, the climate was cooler. Quinn doubted it would be warm enough today to even get her toes wet. Over the swimsuit she pulled on a tank top and a hoodie and her favorite jeans. She slid her feet into flip-flops then packed a bag with a towel, sunscreen, and a few other items.

She had fifteen minutes to walk to Antonia’s so her timing should be perfect. She wasn’t sure what the protocol was now. Was she supposed to tell Reif she was leaving and where she was going? Could she just walk out and let him track her if he felt like it?

What a childish situation she’d created for herself. She was supposed to be an adult. So was he. She’d be honest with him, at least in this instance, and let the chips fall where they may.

He was still reading the paper although he’d moved on to the lifestyle section and had refilled his coffee cup.

“I’m going to the beach.”

He set the newspaper aside. “What beach?”

Quinn hadn’t asked Nick that question. “I’m not sure.”

“How are you getting there?”

“With a guy from work.”

“What guy?”

“Nick.”

“Nick who?”

“Reynolds.”

“What do you know about him? If you wanted to go to the beach why didn’t you tell me? I’d have taken you.”

“He invited everybody,
dad
. It sounded like fun. It’s not a date or anything.”

Scene made. This was not working out as Quinn had planned. She hadn’t expected Twenty Questions. Or had she? Why had she never asked Reif to take her to the beach? Because she’d lived near a beach her entire life. It hadn’t been a driving desire. Why had she agreed so quickly to go with Nick, then?

Oh my God
, she thought,
he’s got me interrogating myself.

Reif studied her. She couldn’t tell if he believed her or not. She looked away. “I have to go.”

She got out the door but still felt Reif’s gaze burning a hole in her back. She practically race-walked to Antonia’s, part of her fearing she’d be late and Nick would leave without her and another part expecting Reif to come after her and drag her back to the house.

She slowed as she came closer to the restaurant, and closer to the realization that what she wished for most was the latter.

Reif’s first instinct was to go after her and insist she return to the house with him. He had a feeling something was off, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. Quinn’s story was plausible enough. He could easily believe her overly protective family would go the extra mile to keep her out of harm’s way. Especially if Tony even suspected information about her activities had been leaked.

Every day since she’d arrived Reif checked the Coral Bay Banner for news and updates of local trials. He looked through the local law enforcement websites as well, but he didn’t know exactly what he was looking for. The only thing he read about was the upcoming trial of Benny Strollo for those two murders. Other than the busboy working at the same restaurant, Quinn claimed to have no connection there. But what if she did?

His gut clenched at the thought while his mind rejected various courses of action. That tracking bracelet wasn’t a real safeguard against anything. He knew that of course, but he couldn’t come up with a better idea when he realized he couldn’t control Quinn’s movements or her choices.

Not for the first time he silently cursed Tony for putting him in this position. He was flying blind with no information, no support, no way of contacting Tony in case of an emergency. It was a stand-by-for-further-instructions kind of situation.

So what was he supposed to do now? He had a couple of ideas. The first was to do a background check on this Nick Reynolds.

At his desk he found yet another newspaper article taped to his laptop. He scanned the text. A private plane had crashed into a home in Gaithersburg, Maryland. Six people had been killed; three on the plane and three in the house. Another “subtle” message from Quinn.

This had been going on for a while now. Quinn had been clipping articles out of the newspaper and leaving them for him all over the house to prove her point that safety was an illusion. He’d found one in his bathroom, another on his dresser. A third in his underwear drawer. A golfer who died after being hit in the head by a ball. A teen’s death due to a roller coaster accident at an amusement park. An engaged couple killed when a senior citizen lost control of his Mercedes and drove it into the jewelry store.

Her message was coming through loud and clear, but it didn’t change a thing. He had nothing better to do today anyway. He’d been going to suggest sailing or a movie before Quinn had told him of her plans. He fired up his laptop and fed the limited information he had on her coworker into his search program.

In less than a minute he had a profile, and a picture of a dark-haired twenty-one-year-old college student. No criminal background, no felony or misdemeanor convictions. Except for a speeding ticket three years ago he had a clean driving record.

Reif scanned every other bit of information and made a note of the make and model of Nick Reynolds’s vehicle, a mid-sized SUV.

He stopped for a moment and tried to put himself in Quinn’s position. He wouldn’t want to be a prisoner confined inside a house any more than she did. Even if it was for his own good. Even if the intention was to keep him safe. He’d be batshit crazy in about three days, and Quinn had been here at least as many weeks. He couldn’t blame Quinn for wanting to live her life, could he?

But was the risk worth it? He always came back to that. If he knew his life was in danger, he would be able to buckle down and keep from climbing the walls and getting himself killed. Why couldn’t she?

The fact was, Reif felt more strongly than ever Quinn was in danger. He’d researched current-day organized crime. This was not the world of Don Corleone. They were as sophisticated as any corporation when it came to technology, and look how easily Reif had found information on Nick Reynolds. If she ever used her real name or credit card or social security number. Or if a picture of her ended up on the internet. Facial recognition software was easy to come by. Anyone with the means and the interest could install it and use it.

If anything happened to Quinn, Tony would never forgive him. But Reif wouldn’t be able to forgive himself either. Not only that, a world without Quinn Fontana—scrap that,
his
world without Quinn Fontana in it would be a miserable one.

She drove him crazy, sure. But she also brought out a protective streak in him, even stronger than the one he had for his sisters.

In minutes he put together some things to take with him. His laptop. His cell phone. Power cords. A jacket. Snacks and a couple of bottles of water. From the gun safe in his closet he removed his Glock and dropped a clip into it. He didn’t think he’d need it. Not today anyway. But he also knew it was better to be prepared than not.

The tracking bracelet Quinn wore could only tell him where she was. It couldn’t see if she was being followed or watched. It couldn’t tell him if she was taken hostage or if she was dead. He shied away from that last thought.

At the moment the app told him she was moving at a fairly steady pace toward the coast. He was maybe a half hour away from her.

By the time he arrived at the beach and found a place to park, Quinn and her group had set up near a volleyball net. There were a bunch of them, all young and tanned, in tee shirts and board shorts. College students, ready to have some fun.

Reif could see the group without his binoculars but he used them anyway, zeroing in on Quinn. She’d bowed out of playing volleyball and sat on a beach towel instead, arms wrapped around her knees. She was looking out at the water.

From the group Reif picked out Nick. He was the apparent alpha male, calling encouragement to the players on both sides, low-fiving his teammates when they scored and generally keeping the fun going. Reif had seen his kind before. Everyone’s friend, the life of the party, the kind of guy who enjoyed other people. Nick probably had a lot of acquaintances and few close friends. Thus the blanket invitation to everyone who worked at Antonia’s, including Quinn, someone who didn’t look like she belonged with the rest of the crowd and who didn’t look like she was enjoying herself.

But what did he know? Maybe she liked sitting at the beach and staring out at the waves. Maybe that was her idea of a good time. It would have been a good day to sail. There was a strong steady breeze. The sun was out, the sky clear.
Damn.
Why hadn’t he offered to take her sailing the moment she’d mentioned the beach?

Because she caught him off guard. She did that a lot. He was never a step ahead of her. Most times he felt he couldn’t keep up with her. She never did what he expected. Even in bed.

Uh unh. Don’t go there
, he warned himself as he trained the binoculars back on Quinn.

She got up, stepped out of her jeans, and shrugged off her hoodie. She said something to Nick while there was a break in the play and moved away from the group. Alone.

Great. Taking off alone made her an even easier target. The beach was fairly crowded, but a young woman alone? With no close companions nearby? Most of those kids in that group probably barely knew her. Might not even recognize her if they saw her again. They couldn’t all work at Antonia’s.

Reif made a decision. Quinn would probably be pissed at him, and he wouldn’t blame her. She wouldn’t like that he’d followed her, but that was just too damn bad.

He returned the binoculars to the trunk of the car. She didn’t have to know just
how
diligently he’d been spying on her.

He took the stairs to the beach and took off at a sprint to catch up with her. She’d left her flip-flops back with her jeans and was walking at a good pace through the sand just above the shoreline.

He slowed down once he got close, reconsidering the wisdom of his plan. Perhaps he should just go back to the parking lot, sit in his car, keep an eye on Nick’s vehicle until it left with Quinn inside. She’d be none the wiser that he’d been there the whole time. If Nick dropped her at the restaurant, Reif could arrive back at the house before she did. She’d never know he’d even been gone.

Suddenly she took off at a run. Reif picked up his pace, admiring her athleticism. She settled into a comfortable rhythm and Reif jogged along a fair distance behind her, deciding she didn’t need to know he was there. If she turned around he’d make a ninety-degree turn and try to blend in with some of the other beach goers. In the meantime, he could enjoy the view as she ran, her muscles tensing and flexing, elbows pumping, her dark hair flying out behind her.