"I don't feel guilty. I walked you home. You want me to believe that I should have taken you inside? Checked all your closets and looked under the bed? Well, maybe from now on I will. You attract trouble, Sherlock, too much of it." But he sounded guilty, really guilty. She wanted to tell him not to be ridiculous, but he said quickly, "This is Special Agent James Quinlan. We go way back together."
"You make it sound like we're nearly to retirement, Dillon. Hi, Ms. Sherlock." He took her hand in his.
"You call him Dillon too." His hand was strong, and there were calluses on his thumbs. She'd seen a web of scars on Dillon's fingers and hands: fine, pale white scars. He'd told her he whittled. Whittled what?
"Yeah, I always thought Savich sounded too tough, too macho, so to spare my manhood I never called him that. Besides, I'm tougher than he is. Hey, what's in a name?" "He was with you at that place called the Cove?" "Nan, he just came in on the deal when most of the fun was over."
"That's a lie. I saved Sally."
"That's true, he did help. A little bit. Dillon's always there to back me up."
She said, "You're Sally's husband?" "Yes, she's mine, the skinny little wench. I've got to tell you, Agent Sherlock, I don't like any of this. You're a target and we've got to find out why."
"None of us likes it, Quinlan," Savich said. "Don't act proprietary. She's not in your unit. I will get to the bottom of this. Hey, Sherlock, you do look like a mummy. You want some more water before I start grilling you again? I'll use my special voice. Quinlan's not bad at it either, only not as plummy."
Neither man said anything until she'd drunk her fill. Then Quinlan laughed when Savich said, "Having you suck on a straw is better than trying to balance you on the edge of the cup. You don't drool so much."
"Just because you tried to dump the entire glass of water down my throat that first time-oh dear, I'm beginning to feel mean again, sir."
Quinlan said, "Not just yet, Agent Sherlock. Er, did you know that Sally and I were married a year last month-in October? Dillon here found us the wedding date and the church."
"Why did he do that?"
"Well, I was kind of out of it at the time and Sally was so worried about me that she didn't even think about marrying me. So Dillon had to take care of it."
"What he means to say is that he had a bullet in his heart and couldn't do much but press more morphine into his vein.
As for Sally, she probably only agreed to marry him because she felt sorry for him."
She smiled at that, and thankfully, it didn't hurt. "Oh goodness. Have I gotten into the wrong career?"
"You're off to a good start," Quinlan said. "Wounded twice and you've been out of training only what? A month? Hey, don't worry. I've made it to thirty-four, same as Savich here."
They heard voices outside. Quinlan raised an eyebrow and said, "I think my whirlwind of a wife has just blown in. The guard you've got out there doesn't stand a chance, Dillon."
"No indeed," said a very pretty young woman about La-cey's own age as she came into the room. She had dusty blond hair, clasped with barrettes behind her ears, and blue eyes that looked soft and tender, and had seen too much. She was slender and looked very small next to the two men. She didn't, however, look like a skinny little wench. "Don't blame Agent Crammer. He knows me. He helped me barbecue those half a dozen corn on the cob last month, remember, James?"
"Our venture into vegetarian barbecuing," James Quinlan said with disgust and poked Savich's arm. "Just for you I had to barbecue corn on the cob. I lost more of my manhood that day."
"Your manhood seems to be a lot in question lately," Savich said. "Hey, Sally, this is Sherlock. She's the one who needed your decorating help until she had it done herself. She just called up one of those expensive designers and the guy tripped all over himself to please her."
Lacey felt a soft hand lightly stroke her forearm. "You certainly scared the sense out of Dillon here. I was watching him on the phone, and he turned white, threw the phone down, and ran out of the club. Ms. Lily thought he was so horny he couldn't hold himself back another second. As for Fuzz, the bartender, he just shook his head and said Savich should have a beer occasionally, it would make him more mellow. Marvin, the bouncer, said he was glad Savich didn't drink. He never wanted to have to try to bounce him."