The Truth Seeker by Dee Henderson

jumper.”
    “I believe he was. Do you collect art, Mr.—?”
    “Diamond. Quinn Diamond. And yes, I’ve been known to buy a piece I like.”
    “Diamond—a lady’s best friend?” She smiled at him as she touched the sleeve of his jacket. “Indulge me, Mr. Diamond, and I’ll tell you about some wonderful photographs by a promising young photographer.”
    He returned the smile, relaxing, liking her. “I would enjoy that.”
    And for the next twenty minutes he did, hearing about a daughter from a mother who loved her, obviously missed her, and remained very proud of her. The word murdered still resonated as a harsh, discordant ending to the story, but she seemed to have moved past it enough to recover the good memories.
    They had almost circled the room when he stopped in his tracks.
    “My daughter. She was sixteen when that was taken.”
     
    “Better,” Jennifer replied smugly.
    It was a quarter to eleven; Jennifer had called shortly after P.M.
    “What? You admit he has a flaw?” Lisa teased.
    “He’d be just about right for you.”
    Lisa squirmed against the cushions, remembering the couple times
    It was a five-by-seven-inch snapshot, a casual picture, hanging low on the wall among a display of awards. Rita looked very much like a younger version of her mom even at sixteen. Rita had her arm around the shoulders of another teen, both girls holding cameras. The other girl in the picture was the very girl he had sought for so long: a smiling Amy Ireland.
    “I do love this man.” Lisa curled up on the couch and reached for the remote to adjust the volume. Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan were about to kiss for the first time. She snuggled the phone closer to her shoulder.
    “Jennifer, does Tom kiss this good?”
    to pass along word that she’d found the movie playing on the romance classics channel. It wasn’t the first time they had watched a movie together long distance. Lisa was feeling quite relaxed. A muscle relaxant had ended any pain and a canister of Cheetos lay open on the table.
    “Who was the last guy you kissed?” Jennifer asked.
    Lisa grinned at the intrusive question. “Jack. He cleaned out my leaf-clogged gutters tonight.”
    “Brothers don’t count.”
    “Well it wasn’t Kevin,” Lisa replied, grateful that was true. For all the mistakes she had made with Kevin, that hadn’t been one of them.
    She was choosy about whom she kissed.
    “Good. I never liked that ER doctor.” The movie went to commercial.
    “Quinn was a good kisser, but there was an awkward height difference.”
    he had held her as he helped her move from the car. Jen was right

his
    chin had brushed her hair as he held her, sent a quiver direct to her gut. If he kissed her
    “I don’t intend to find out.”
    “Why not? He’s interested.”
    Jennifer was reading what she wanted to see. Quinn might be interested in a friendship, but nothing more. “No he isn’t.”
    “Want to bet?”
    Having already walked into a family bet once tonight compliments of Jack and his latest dare, she wasn’t touching this one. “No, I don’t.
    Besides, even if he’s interested, I’m not.”
    She was smart enough to know there would be nothing casual about a relationship with Quinn, not on her side. She had a habit of being overly cautious and then abruptly just handing her heart over and saying here. There wasn’t a safe middle, and unfortunately she hadn’t chosen well the few times she had risked it in the past. She still had the child’s habit of making an all-or-nothing decision.
    “Quinn’s not that old,” Jennifer said, puzzled.
    Forty-four. There were nine years between them, but Lisa had never thought his age was the problem. He wore it well. It was what it said about him that was the problem. The guy should have settled down long ago. But it would be putting down the guy to make that point, and she found herself reluctant to be critical. Knowing Quinn, there was probably a decent reason behind his unwillingness to settle down. “I don’t want to live in Montana,” she replied, lying through