Once Upon a Grind by Cleo Coyle Page A

pride and stepped forward—
    â€œLook, Leila, I think we got off on the wrong foot today.”
    â€œOh, you think so?”
    â€œYes, I do. I’m sure if your ‘mother’s helper’ had been with you, none of this would have happened.”
    â€œTrying to skirt blame, Clare?”
    â€œThe young woman’s name is Anya, right?” I pressed.
    â€œBrilliant memory.”
    â€œDid you know she was a part-time model when you hired her?”
    Leila crossed her arms. “What does Anya’s résumé have to do with anything?”
    â€œI was just wondering if the girl came with good references, and from what agency—”
    â€œJust wondering? You’re not
just
wondering
. You’re poking around where you don’t belong!”
    â€œDon’t get defensive, all I want to know is—”
    â€œEnough butting in! You delivered the dog, now it’s time for you to go!”
    Leila rushed me, manicured claws thrust out. Luckily, Quinn stepped between us, saving me from acrylic impalement.
    â€œClare and I are leaving,” he said. “Get a grip and get some rest. I’ll be back tomorrow morning to take the kids to brunch.”
    Leila threw up her hands. “Oh, so now you suddenly have time to—”
    â€œTomorrow.” Like Father Frost, Quinn’s icy look apparently froze the woman’s larynx because she finally shut up.

T WENTY - FOUR

    Q UINN stopped in the kitchen to hug his kids and say good night, but after we left the apartment, he didn’t say a word. Jaws clenched, he stewed in quiet fury.
    As we rode the elevator in deafening silence, I pulled out my phone.
No messages
.
    I knew the lawyers were working their legal magic to free Prince Matt from evil Endicott’s clutches, and there wasn’t much I could do, but waiting for word wasn’t easy. I wanted to discuss the situation with Quinn, get his advice, even his help. But he didn’t appear to be in the talking mood.
    When we crossed the building’s grand lobby, I wished the doorman a good evening. A scowling Quinn barely noticed.
    On the sidewalk outside, I stopped him. “Are you all right?”
    He looked ready to punch the
No Parking
sign. “Leila should have
thanked
you,” he bit out. “Instead, she nearly
attacked
you. You did not deserve to be treated like—”
    â€œCalm down. Leila and I don’t get along. That’s the way it is. What matters is those kids. How were they when you spoke to them?”
    Quinn shook his head, loosened his tie.
    â€œJeremy was afraid I’d be angry, but he did the right thing. He remembered the Oak Bridge was a well-lighted area, so he followed the downhill paths until he saw the lights. Then he kept Molly calm and safe, watching the ducks, while he waited for a police officer or park worker—someone he could trust.”
    â€œJeremy’s a smart kid.”
    â€œHe’s a good kid. I’m proud of him.”
    â€œThey’re both good kids, Mike, and they have good hearts.”
    â€œSo do you.” He tugged me close. “But right now I’m more concerned about your mind.”
    â€œMy mind?”
    â€œYes, your recurrently
curious
mind. You were asking Leila some pointed questions about Anya . . .”
    For a split second, I was surprised he’d picked up on that, but I shouldn’t have been. Quinn might be wearing a G-Man suit these days, but he’d spent years reading into things—from witness statements to suspect denials.
    â€œAre you going to tell me why?” he pressed. “Or do I have to . . . coerce it out of you?”
    â€œTempting as coercion sounds, I need to tell you what’s going on. But it’s a long story, and I’m not telling it out here on the sidewalk.”
    Quinn nodded, “You’ve had a tough day. Let’s get you home.” Turning toward the curb, he raised his arm to