The Mighty Quinns: Devin (13 page)

“I just want a few minutes,” Dev said.

Mary was in the kitchen, preparing another pot of tea. When she saw Dev, she smiled, but he sent her a dark glare. “Why didn't you tell me about this, Mom?”

“Do you tell me everything that you do in the course of a day...or night?” she asked. Her meaning was crystal clear, and Elodie felt a blush warm her cheeks. She and Mary had never talked about the fact that she and Dev were lovers, though Elodie was certain Mary suspected what was going on.

“I'd like a moment alone with Elodie,” Dev said.

Mary gathered up the plates on a tray and walked out of the kitchen. Dev turned to Elodie. “I'm sorry that I interrupted your...whatever this is.”

“It's an afternoon tea,” Elodie said. “And frankly, it was embarrassing. Don't you think you should have called me first?”

“You've had two incidents here. I wasn't about to take any chances,” Dev countered. “Maybe if you'd
told
me about your afternoon tea, I wouldn't have rushed over here.”

“So now it's my fault?” Elodie asked.

“I'm just saying that for a guy who's supposed to be important to you, I was surprisingly uninformed. This plan of yours for the gallery and the art fair—how long have you been working on it?”

“Almost since I arrived in Winchester,” she said.

“And you didn't think it was important to mention it to me?”

Elodie felt her temper rise. He seemed determined to start an argument. And she was willing to give him one if that's what he wanted. “It doesn't have anything to do with you.”

“Your decision to stay in Winchester doesn't have anything to do with me?” Dev shook his head, cursing softly. “I guess I have the answers I've been looking for.”

“You're overreacting—”

“I have to go,” he muttered. “Don't worry about me. I'm straight with it all. I was just...mistaken. You have a pleasant day, now, Miss Winchester.” He put his cap on and strode out of the kitchen, the door swinging shut behind him.

She grabbed a shortbread cookie and threw it at the door. It shattered into a thousand crumbs as Elodie sank back against the edge of the counter. What did he want from her? They'd been together a couple of weeks, after years apart. She was having enough trouble sorting out a future for herself.

Did he really expect her to plan the rest of her life around him? Elodie drew a deep breath, then pushed away from the counter. There had been a time when Dev Cassidy
had
been at the beginning, middle and end of every one of her fantasies. But now that he'd become part of her reality, Elodie was forced to be practical. Her plan could fall apart. What if no one in the community wanted a folk art gallery on Wisteria Street or hated the idea of an art fair on a warm summer weekend? Maybe the people of Winchester would prefer that she left town quietly and never came back.

She'd hurt him once when she'd left, and she owed it to him to protect him from that kind of hurt again. She owed herself that, too. As long as she continued to think of their relationship as a vacation affair, then she could handle whatever happened.

The kitchen door swung open and Elodie held her breath, ready to face Dev again. But it was Mary who stepped through. “Is everything all right?” she asked.

“Where's Dev?”

“He left. Good thing, too. He was in a foul mood. I think we should serve the raspberry cordial now.”

Mary had insisted they finish tea in the same way her grandmother used to—with a raspberry cordial that she'd made from an old family recipe. It was a silly nod to the past, but one she believed would appeal to her guests. “Right,” Elodie murmured. “Let's do that.”

 

7

D
EV
STOOD
OUTSIDE
the county courthouse, leaning against the front fender of his police cruiser. His gaze was fixed on the door leading in and out of the holding area, and he searched for a familiar face.

A few seconds later, Jimmy Joe Babcock emerged, squinting against the noonday sun. He glanced around, searching for a friend or family member, but after testifying against his brother on the gun possession charge, he'd been shunned by his family. His friends, those who hadn't sided with Ray Don, were in school.

Dev pushed away from the car and walked over to the kid. “I figured you could use a lift,” he said.

“Thanks,” he said with a hesitant smile. “I wasn't expecting Mom or Dad, but I thought one of my friends would come.”

“I told them I'd come and get you. I stopped at your folks' house and picked up your clothes and your window-washing gear. You'll be staying with Coach Pembroke for now. He and his wife take in foster kids, and he agreed to give you a place to stay as long as you behave yourself.”

“He's my history teacher,” Jimmy said.

“Good. Then he can help you raise your history grade from a D to an A.”

Jimmy frowned. “How did you know my—”

“I know everything about you,” Dev said. “You are my current project. I've decided to do everything in my power to turn you into a cop. You'll start by finishing high school. Then, when you graduate, we're going to find you a good college and you're going to major in criminal justice. After that, I'll hire you on if you want to work in Winchester.”

Jimmy chuckled. “You really think I could be a cop?”

“I do,” Dev said. “Jimmy, you can do whatever you want with your life. Just because your name is Babcock, that doesn't mean your future is determined for you.”

He turned away, but Dev could see tears swimming in his eyes. “My parents hate me. My brother is going to prison because of me and—”

“No,” Dev said. “Your brother is going to prison because
he
decided to rip off that gun store.
He
decided to break his parole. He decided to leave that gun in a car that you drove and then was going to let you take the blame. He made all kinds of bad decisions before you had to make yours.”

Dev reached out and put his arm around Jimmy's shoulders. “Come on. Let's get some lunch and then I'll take you over to meet Mrs. Pembroke. Then we need to stop at school and get all the homework you missed while you were sitting in that cell.”

“I'll never catch up,” he said.

“You will. After school, each day, you'll come over to the station and do your schoolwork until you have everything finished.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Jimmy asked.

“'Cause I think you're a good guy,” Dev said.

They started toward the car but Dev stopped when he heard a familiar voice calling his name. He turned to see Elodie approaching. Jimmy Joe glanced over at him, then whistled.

“You know her?” he asked.

“Yeah, I do.”

He hadn't seen Elodie since their argument three days ago. He'd decided that he'd leave the entire thing up to her since she seemed to be the one firmly in control of her feelings. He'd been all-in from the start. But now that she was actually making plans to stay in Winchester, everything was starting to fall apart.

News of her plans had spread quickly around town, and within a few days two very distinct camps had developed—the pro-Elodie faction and the anti-Elodie group.

Her supporters felt that anything designed to bring tourists into town could only be positive for everyone living in Winchester. The “anti” group believed the town had to be completely Winchester-free in order for it to truly heal.

Dev wasn't sure which way the town council would go, especially since the issue was more emotional than practical. And Elodie needed the board on her side. In order for her to open the gallery, the council had to rezone her property as commercial. Since the mansion stood at the end of the street, it was unlikely that her neighbors would agree to the increased traffic. Elodie had a solution to that—she'd offered to build a new driveway through the back of her ten-acre property, coming off an already commercially zoned road. But that would also require a permit.

Dev didn't envy her the battle ahead, but she seemed perfectly willing to throw herself into it. He had to admire that about Elodie. She wouldn't take no for an answer. On the outside, she seemed sweet and soft, but that deceptive exterior hid a core that was as strong as steel. Dev just wished she was as determined to be with him.

Dev walked toward her, taking her hands as she pushed up on her toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He took the kiss as an olive branch.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I had to pick up some tax information on the house,” she said. “I have a real estate broker coming over this afternoon with a buyer.”

Dev frowned. “I don't understand. You're thinking about selling?”

“I'm keeping all my options open,” she said.

Dev had hoped that selling the mansion was the last of her options, not the first.

“What about you? Why are you here?”

“I'm picking up a friend of mine,” Dev said. He motioned to Jimmy Joe. “Jimmy Joe Babcock, this is my friend Elodie Winchester. Elodie, this is Jimmy. Jimmy runs a window-washing business and Elodie owns a mansion with a lot of windows.”

“Are you available?” Elodie said. “I haven't counted the windows, but there must be at least fifty. They haven't been washed for years.”

Jimmy grinned. “I could come by and give you an estimate,” he said. “I'll give you a good discount 'cause you're a friend of Chief Cassidy's.”

“That would be fine,” Elodie said. “I really have to go.” She looked up at Dev. “I'll see you later?”

Was that a question, Dev wondered, or an invitation? He caught her hand and pulled her into a quick kiss. “Are we okay?”

She smiled and nodded her head. “I'm sorry about the other day. It's just that things are complicated right now. I'm trying to figure out what I want to do with my life.”

“And I'm getting in the way?” Dev asked.

“No,” she said. “Not at all. But you make it so easy to want to stay in Winchester, even if it might not be the right thing to do. I need to make these decisions with a clear head, and you have a way of muddling my brain until all I can think about is...you know. Maybe we should try to slow things down.” She drew a ragged breath. “Can we do that?”

“We can,” he said with a grin. “So, I'll see you around, Elodie.”

“Definitely,” she said.

He watched as she walked up the courthouse steps and disappeared inside. Dev sighed deeply.

“She your girlfriend?” Jimmy asked, stepping up beside him.

“I guess you could say that,” Dev replied. “Though things are kind of messed up right now.”

Jimmy Joe shook his head. “Man, you gotta lock that down. A girl like her, she's got her pick of guys.”

“What do you suggest?” Dev asked.

“You gotta go exclusive,” Jimmy said. “Forget playing the field. Once a girl as sweet as that walks, you'll never get her back. Like the song says, if you want it, you gotta put a ring on it.”

“It?”

“Her,” Jimmy clarified.

“So, you're saying I should formalize our relationship by buying her a diamond ring?”

“The bigger the rock, the better,” Jimmy said. “So big that she can't possibly say no.”

“I'm not sure that would be the right move. It might scare her off.”

“Hmm,” Jimmy said, reconsidering his advice. He frowned. “Well, if that's true, then she's kind of a weird chick. You'll have to take a different approach. If she isn't into material things, then she's probably all into emotions. Tell her how you feel. Reassure her that she's your boo.”

“My boo?”

“Your bae.”

“I can't believe I'm taking advice from a high schooler.”

“You're, what, forty years old, and you don't have a woman in your life. Maybe you could use some good advice.”

Dev reached out and ruffled Jimmy's hair. “I'm twenty-nine,” Dev said. “I'll be thirty next month. And I've had plenty of women in my life.”

“Not like her,” Jimmy said.

“All right, I'll give you that. Never like her.”

Jimmy Joe patted Dev on the arm. “Why don't we grab ourselves a cold one and we can discuss this further?”

“Very funny,” Dev said, giving the kid a playful shove. “And if I hear you've been out with those friends of yours stirring up trouble, I'll bring you right back here. Now is the time to take control of your life, Jimmy.”

“Same for you,” the boy said.

* * *

A
TINY
BEAD
of sweat dripped down Elodie's cheek and fell with a plop onto her hand. She tipped her face up and ran the paint roller over the ceiling of the front parlor. She hadn't realized how grimy the paint was until she'd applied a fresh coat of white.

The house was stifling hot, the daytime temperatures topping ninety, and the humidity made it feel even worse. As she stood on a ladder just a few feet from the eleven-foot-high ceilings, the heat was practically unbearable.

She crawled down the ladder and placed the roller back into the pan. Elodie had hoped that one coat would be enough, but even now, before the paint was dry, she could tell it was going to require at least two.

Elodie wasn't sure why she was taking the time to paint. She hadn't decided to sell and she wasn't sure the gallery would be a go. Yet, she needed to find something to fill the void created by the absence of Dev. Up until a few days ago, she'd spent nearly every evening with him.

As she wandered back to the kitchen, Elodie tugged her T-shirt up and wiped her forehead. She found a bottle of water in the refrigerator and took it out onto the front porch. She poured half of it over her face, then took a long drink.

She drew a deep breath of the thick night air and closed her eyes. The silence made her ears ring. She'd been so used to the constant hum of the city while living in Manhattan, but here, it was so quiet, she could hear own heart beating.

The sound of a car caught her attention, and she watched from the shadows as a police cruiser slowly drove down Wisteria Street. Elodie held her breath as the car pulled to stop in front of her house. It had to be Dev. But instead of getting out, he sat in the car, the windows open, staring out the front windshield.

Elodie pushed to her feet and slowly walked down the porch steps. The bricks of the front walk were warm on her bare feet, as they'd held the heat from the day. By the time she'd reached the gate, Dev was out of the car, watching her across the roof.

“What are you doing out here?” she asked.

“Just checking out the residents on Wisteria Street,” he said. “Normal rounds. What are you up to?”

“I was painting,” she said.

“Oil or watercolor?” he asked.

“Latex. I was painting the ceiling.”

“On a night like this? Too hot.”

She smiled. “Being dropped into the dunk tank would feel good right about now. Or a long swim.”

“You want to swim?” he asked. “I can make that happen.”

Elodie hesitated before accepting. The last time she'd gone swimming with him, he'd stayed on shore, fully dressed, while she'd enjoyed the water. “I think Spencer's Landing will probably be crowded tonight.”

“It is,” he said. “I've chased kids out of there three times today already.”

“Are you going to swim with me?” she asked.

“Sure. I'm off duty in three minutes. Come on, let's go.”

Elodie shook her head. “I don't have a suit.”

“You won't need one,” he countered. “I know a place that's very private.”

“I thought we weren't going to—”

“It's just a swim, Elodie, not a marriage proposal.”

In truth, a swim sounded perfect right now. She could burn off the last of her nervous energy, cool down and then hopefully sleep like the dead. “All right,” she said.

She jumped in the passenger side and they took off. Elodie expected that he'd head out of town, but instead, they ended up in the parking lot of the town's high school. Dev got out of the car and jogged around to help her out. The lot was completely empty, the windows of the school dark.

She got out and looked around. “How are we going to get in?”

“You're with the police chief,” he said. “I have all kinds of access.”

To Elodie's surprise, he unlocked a side door and they strolled inside. Dev took a flashlight off his utility belt to light the way as they walked through the empty hallways. When they reached the pool, Dev flipped on the underwater lights and the huge room suddenly glowed.

“Are you sure we're alone? There won't be a janitor happening by or a swim team dropping in for an unexpected practice?”

“It's a Sunday night. I come here all the time in the summer, often in the middle of the night if I can't sleep.”

“All right. You first,” she said.

Dev didn't hesitate. He stripped out of his clothes right there on the pool deck. He placed everything on a bench, and when he got down to his boxers, he turned and faced her. “I usually take it all off, but if you don't want me—”

“Go ahead,” she said, nodding.

“I figured maybe because we'd decided to slow things down you'd—”

“Go ahead,” Elodie repeated.

He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers and slid them down over his hips. Elodie groaned inwardly. If she had any sense left in her at all, she'd run the other way. This was exactly what she'd been trying to avoid.