Desert Bound (Cambio Springs) by Elizabeth Hunter

collateral? He’d been working for a surveyor. Had some trade school experience. But he owned nothing. A bank wasn’t going to loan him money.”
    “So what’s your guess?”
    “At first, I thought Old Quinn must have helped him out. But then I started thinking about it.”
    Ted shook her head. “Old Quinn doesn’t have that kind of money. Not until recently with the land sale for the resort.”
    “You’re right,” Alex said. “Don’t get me wrong. The old guy can make money. I don’t ask how, but he does. And he can read people in a heartbeat. But he’s also got a lot of people in his clan that don’t do shit. And who do you think makes sure all the kids have food and shoes?”
    “Old Quinn.”
    “He’s a godfather to over half of them. And it’s not just an honorary title.”
    It wouldn’t be. For all their shady dealings, most Quinns were staunch Catholics who took family very seriously. They may give each other black eyes and empty wallets, but no one outside the clan did without repercussions.
    “So where’d he get the money?”
    “That’s why we’re going to visit the old guy. I’m hoping he’ll tell me.”
    “And you think that might have something to do with how he died?”
    Alex frowned. “Trust me, Ted. There’s very few people that are going to loan money without collateral. And none of them are people you want to cross.”
    And this was why Caleb Gilbert needed to bend a little and allow Alex into the investigation, even though it wasn’t procedure. But that was okay. If Caleb didn’t get Alex’s insight, Ted would.
    “If he borrowed money from someone,” she said, “it would have been years ago. He’s been in business for longer than he and Josie have been married.”
    “Sometimes ancient history can still bite you in the ass.”
    Yes, it could. She was reminded of their hour in her office, chatting about their day. Alex tossing around jokes as she worked. It reminded her of when she was in school. Ancient history to some, but old patterns were easy to fall back into when you let yourself.
    “You know,” he said, “that was nice back there.”
    “Back where?”
    “In your office.”
    She smiled that his thoughts had been in line with hers. “Yeah. It was.”
    “I miss that.”
    She forced herself to say it, even though it made her feel naked. “Me, too.”
    He just smiled and looked back at the road.
    “Ted…”
    He stopped, as if he’d thought better of saying something. He was even biting his lip. He only did that when he was trying to hold his tongue.
    “What?”
    Alex took a deep breath. “We were always shit at communicating with each other.”
    “What do you mean?”
    She knew exactly what he meant.
    “Physical communication was never a problem. But verbal?”
    “Yeah.” She relented. “We were.”
    “You assumed things about my life and my plans. I assumed things about yours—”
    “And we both held them back, because we didn’t want to rock the boat.”
    “Hey.” His voice was softer, and she looked over. “It was a pretty great boat. Hard to risk something like that.”
    She nodded, but didn’t say anything more.
    He started, “I’ve been thinking—”
    “Don’t hurt yourself.”
    “You just can’t help it, can you?”
    “Nope.”
    He grinned. “I’ve been thinking about what we can do. So our ancient history doesn’t come back and bite us in the ass.”
    The fact that he’d been thinking about it loosened something tight in her heart. “Yeah?”
    “Maybe…” He pulled over to the side of the road, just around the corner from the turnoff to Old Quinn’s. “Can we try? At least try this?”
    “Being friends? That hasn’t been going so great, Alex.”
    “We were never just friends. Why do you think we fight so much when we’re trying to pretend we are?”
    She paused to think. Breathe. Think some more. 
    They’d gone down that road before with both amazing and explosive results. To try again. To open herself up like