Tomb With a View (34 page)

Unfortunately, I guess I hadn’t learned to look before I moved. I almost smashed my nose right into an expensive Italian silk tie and the chest of the detective wearing it.

“I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to check out your display,” Quinn said, and I don’t think he was talking about anything presidential since he was giving me and my new off-the-shoulder dress the once-over. I’d bought it to celebrate living through the summer, and I guess I’d made the right choice. When he skimmed a look from my satin pumps to the slim-skirted, blackberry-colored dress, Quinn’s eyes lit up. “I thought we could talk. Over drinks. That is, if you’re not busy later.”

Three cheers for good timing. At that very moment, Scott showed up with a glass of champagne for me. I wrapped one arm through his. “That’s so nice of you,” I told Quinn, “but I’m going to be busy later.” Scott and I turned to walk away, but I wasn’t done. I gave Quinn a look over my shoulder. “Besides,” I told him, all sweetness and light, “I don’t think we have anything left to say.”

Scott knew better than to comment. Or maybe he wasn’t paying all that much attention. He smiled and pointed to the waiter who was walking around the room, a tray of food in one hand. “That guy over there was telling me about the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum. I’ve always wanted to see it. Would you like to go tomorrow? I can’t wait to see the exhibits. I’m a huge Beatles fan!”

I agreed because, honestly, I was looking forward to it.

Of course, that didn’t explain why even as I sipped my champagne and chatted with our visitors, I kept hearing a song playing from somewhere in the darkest corners of the ballroom. It sounded a whole lot like “A Hard Day’s Night
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