Liam Page 4

  “I do,” the other officer said. “Conor Quinn. He’s in homicide. Tall, dark-haired guy. Wife just had a baby. In fact, this guy looks a lot like him.”

  “She’s got my ID,” Liam said, nodding toward Ellie.

  Ellie quickly stood and handed the officer Liam’s wallet. “He’s telling the truth. His name is Liam Quinn and he’s a photographer. And-and I think I may have made a mistake.”

  The short officer cuffed Liam and shoved him toward the door. “I’ll take him down to the car while you take her statement,” he said.

  “’Bye!” Ellie called as Liam walked through the door. “It was nice meeting you.” She paused. “Officer, can you make sure you have a doctor look at the cut on his forehead? It could need stitches.”

  “Ma’am, why don’t you have a seat and we’ll figure out what happened here?” the officer suggested.

  “All right. But I want you to know that he was very polite and well behaved while he was here. And he told the truth. There was someone else in the apartment. I saw him run out. I thought they were partners. I didn’t realize he was trying to save me.”

  “What his intentions were aren’t really clear, ma’am. I just need your side of the story.”

  Ellie folded her hands on her lap and began to recount the events of that night from the moment she woke up. As she did, her mind kept returning to the instant her eyes had met Liam’s, to the powerful current that had passed between them. Had she simply imagined it or was the attraction mutual? As she spoke she tried to push the thought from her head.

  For all she knew he was a burglar and he’d end up in prison for his crime. But in her heart she hoped it wasn’t true. She hoped that the story he’d told was real, that a handsome stranger had come to her rescue without thought to his own safety.

  “Is Liam Quinn going to go to jail?” she asked.

  “Do you want him to go to jail?” the officer countered.

  “I really think he was telling the truth. If you think he’s telling the truth, then you should let him go.”

  “Is anything missing?”

  Ellie glanced around. “Liam said the guy was going through my desk when he came in. But there’s nothing of value there. My computer is still here and so is the television and the stereo equipment.”

  “Well, if you find anything missing, call me and I’ll put it into the report.” The officer handed her a business card as he stood. “And you may want to get those locks checked. Burglars sometimes come back a second time.”

  Ellie showed the policeman to the door, then closed it behind him, making sure to lock the dead bolt. Then she grabbed up the knife and sat on the sofa. She was afraid to go to bed now, afraid that whoever had broken in would come back. She scrambled off the sofa and picked up a chair from the dining alcove, then jammed it under the doorknob. But, given the choice, she didn’t want to depend upon locks and chairs and butcher knives to protect herself.

  A lot of good her white knight was doing her now, locked up in a jail cell. “I should have left him tied up on the floor,” Ellie said. But somehow she suspected that he wouldn’t have stayed tied up for long. Liam Quinn would have convinced her to untie him-and then who knows what might have happened?

  2

  LIAM LAY on the cold steel bench in the holding cell. Until a few moments ago, the cell had been filled with an assortment of petty criminals-two pimps, a handful of drunk and disorderlies, and four Harvard boys who’d been caught trying to climb the steeple of the Old South Meeting House. But they’d all been hustled out to central booking and then to night court, leaving Liam to the rather Spartan and smelly accommodations.

  This was all his fault. He’d spent too much time listening to those stupid Mighty Quinn stories when he was a kid and the first chance he had, he decided to ride to the rescue. He could have waited for the police or alerted a neighbor or even caused enough commotion on the street to send the guy running. But instead he’d felt compelled to burst into Eleanor Thorpe’s apartment to snatch her from the jaws of certain danger.

  His mind flashed an image of her dressed in the nearly transparent nightgown. Once she’d turned on the light in the living room, he could see right through the thin cotton.

  Liam groaned and put his arm over his eyes, trying to banish the image from his head. But it lingered in his mind, and rather than fight it, Liam decided to enjoy it. She had incredibly long legs, slender and perfectly shaped, and hips that curved in a way that made her seem instantly seductive. And her breasts-her breasts were just… Liam swallowed hard, his fingers clenching into fists.

  Hell, it wasn’t as if she was the prettiest woman he’d ever seen. Not even close. In truth, her features just weren’t that remarkable. Though she did have very nice eyes, her mouth was just a little too wide, her lips too lush. And her dark hair fell around her face in a way that made her look as if she’d just gotten out of bed-which she had.

  As he thought about their encounter, he realized it was more than her looks that attracted him. But what was it? Was it the breathless way she spoke when she was nervous? Or the way she moved, almost amusing in her awkwardness?

  Maybe it was the fact that she’d never once responded to him the way other women had. She hadn’t cozied up to him and found any excuse she could to touch him. She hadn’t sent him teasing looks or seductive smiles. No, Ellie Thorpe had hit him over the head with a lamp then tied him up like some S & M fantasy man. And even after he was certain he’d convinced her of his innocence, she still hadn’t fallen prey to his charms.

  “I just wasn’t trying hard enough,” Liam murmured.

  A cell door slammed nearby and Liam glanced up to find a uniformed officer watching him from behind steel bars. He quickly stood and crossed the cell. “Can I have my phone call?”

  “You had your phone call,” the officer said.

  Liam had decided Conor was his only option when it came to straightening out this mess. But the late-night call had been answered not by Conor or Olivia, but by their voice mail, and Liam had hung up without leaving a message. “I couldn’t get hold of my brother. It doesn’t count if I didn’t talk to anyone.”

  “Are you making the rules now, Quinn?”

  Liam shook his head. “No, I’m just saying that-”

  “You got caught breaking and entering. Right about now, you should be sitting in night court and thinking about how you’re going to make bail.”

  Liam pressed his forehead against the cold, steel bars. “This isn’t exactly the way I wanted to spend my Friday night. I had a date that I canceled. I should have just gone on that date and not even bothered saving Eleanor Thorpe’s life. You’d think she’d be at least a little grateful.”

  The cop reached down and unlocked the cell door. “Well, I guess she was. Her story checked with yours. And we paged your brother. He’s downstairs talking to the two guys who arrested you.”

  “I’m free to go?”

  “We’re not booking you. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try to keep your nose clean. The next time you see someone breaking and entering, dial 9-1-1 and wait for the police.”

  Liam smiled. “Right. That’s exactly what I’ll do. By the book next time. I promise.”

  The cop swung open the door, waiting for Liam. Without wasting any time, Liam grabbed his jacket and walked toward the exit. But at the last moment he turned and took one long, last look. There were times when he wondered just what kind of guardian angel sat on his shoulder. His childhood hadn’t exactly been the best in the world. There’s no telling what kind of wrong turn he might have taken had he made just one or two bad decisions.

  But instead of a life as a petty criminal, he’d actually survived a shaky childhood and become a responsible adult. The kind of adult who’d try to save a woman from an intruder. Maybe the Mighty Quinn tales had done some good-not that he was planning to take up a career as a superhero.

  Liam followed the cop to the door of the holding area. “He’s downstairs at the desk,” the o
fficer said. “You need to sign for your stuff.”

  “Thanks.”

  Liam saw Conor before he even reached the bottom of the stairs. His big brother stood below, his eyes dark with anger, his arms crossed over his chest. Liam grinned as he hurried down the steps, but he could tell that Conor was in a foul mood.

  “Hey, bro,” he said, giving his brother a playful clap on the shoulder. “I knew I could count on you.”

  “Don’t say a word,” Conor warned. “The next thing out of your mouth better be an apology or I’ll take you out back and beat the crap out of you.”

  “Sorry,” Liam murmured. “I didn’t know who else to call.”

  Conor turned on his heel and strode to the door, nodding brusquely to the desk sergeant as he passed. “Thanks, Willie. I owe you.”

  When they reached Conor’s car, Liam slipped in the passenger side, watching in silence as his brother pulled out into traffic. “My car is in Charlestown. If you could just drop me-”

  “I’m not taking you to get your car. You can do that in the morning.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “To Da’s place.”

  “Good,” Liam said. “I could use a drink.”

  “I’m going to have the drink and you’re going to explain why you got me out of bed at one a.m. on a Friday night. Since Riley was born, Olivia and I have averaged about three hours of sleep a night, and when my beeper went off, he woke up and started crying.”

  “How is the kid?” Liam asked.

  “Probably still awake. He’s either sleeping or eating. And when he isn’t doing one or the other, he cries. Olivia is exhausted.”

  The mood in the car remained tense and Liam was glad when they finally reached the pub. Friday night business had always been good in Southie, and the bar was still packed when they walked inside. Two pretty girls sitting at the bar called Liam’s name as he entered and he waved, trying to remember their names. He found himself comparing their rather conspicuous beauty to the subtle attractions of Eleanor Thorpe.

  She wasn’t pretty in the traditional sense. She didn’t have pouty lips or sultry eyes or a body designed for a men’s magazine. In truth, she was the exact opposite of the type of woman he was drawn to-a little up-tight, a little goofy. But there was something about her that he found undeniably attractive.

  Maybe it was the fact that she’d single-handedly subdued an intruder. She hadn’t cowered in a corner or locked herself in the bathroom, she’d picked up a lamp and hit him over the head. Liam rubbed his wrists, still chafed from the ties. She hadn’t known who he was or what his intent had been. For all she’d known, he could have been a crazed serial killer out to do her harm, but she’d stood up for herself.

  Seamus, tending bar, drew two pints of Guinness and set them down in front of his sons as they each took an empty stool at the far end of the bar. “Didn’t expect to see you out tonight, Con.” He turned to Liam, his snow-white hair falling across his forehead. “As for you, I could have used your help behind the bar, boyo. Your brother Brian was the only relief I had and he left an hour ago with a blonde. And where the hell is Sean when I need him?”

  “He’s out of town,” Liam said.

  Seamus shrugged, then wandered off to talk with another customer.

  Conor took a slow sip of his Guinness, then licked his upper lip. “What were you doing in that woman’s apartment?”

  “Exactly what I told the police. I was trying to protect her.”

  Conor slowly shook his head. “Go back to the beginning.”

  “I saw this guy sneak inside her apartment.”

  “From the street?”

  “No, from the attic of the building across the street.”

  “And what were you doing in the-” Conor paused. “Don’t tell me. You were on a case with Sean, weren’t you? You know damn well that he skirts the law every chance he gets. What was this, another one of his divorce cases?”

  “Well, as Sean would say, his clients expect a high level of confidentiality. All I can say is that I was watching the apartment. I told the cop I was walking by and he bought the story. As long as you vouch for me, I think I’ll be all right.”

  “Did you get a look at the burglar?”

  Liam shook his head. “Nah, it was dark and he was wearing a ski mask. He wasn’t very tall. About five-eight or nine, maybe. Not very heavy. And he was kind of clumsy. Not much of a street fighter. I told this all to the cops.”

  “You’re not going to tell me what kind of case you and Sean are working on?”

  “I think it would be better if you don’t ask. And we haven’t broken any laws-not yet, anyway. I swear.”

  Conor rubbed his forehead. “And except for the reason you were on the street, did you tell the police the entire truth?”

  “Yeah.”

  Conor nodded. “Fine. As long as the woman doesn’t insist on pressing charges, I think you’ll be all right.”

  “Eleanor. Ellie Thorpe. She’s really nice. Kind of goofy, but nice.”

  Conor’s brow shot up. “What? You had a conversation?”

  “Well, there wasn’t much else to do once she tied me up. It took the police forever to arrive.”

  This brought a laugh from Conor. “Jeez, Liam. You break into a woman’s house, she ties you up, and you still manage to charm her. Did you get her phone number?”

  “No,” Liam replied. He shrugged, then smiled. “But I know where she lives.”

  Conor took a long drink of his beer, then slid off the bar stool and grabbed his keys. “You know what this means, don’t you? When a Quinn rescues a woman from harm, he’s pretty much done for. You’re stuck with her now, Li. There’s no going back.”

  “You don’t think I believe all that Mighty Quinn garbage, do you?” Liam said. “I did a good deed and that’s the end of it. I’m never going to see her again.”

  Liam wasn’t afraid of being vulnerable to love. Hell, he knew better. He’d always been the one to walk away from a relationship when it got too serious. Besides, he wasn’t about to get involved with a probable felon.

  “Stay away from her,” Conor warned. “She might just decide to press charges and I only have so much juice with the guys downtown.” He sighed. “By the way, we’re having a little get-together for Riley’s christening. A brunch. Olivia sent you an invitation. Did you get it?”

  “Yeah. I thought I’d stop by. Who else will be there?”

  “Everyone.”

  “Ma, too?”

  “Of course,” Conor said. “She is Riley’s grandmother. And Olivia’s parents are coming up from Florida.”

  Since Fiona had reappeared in their lives over a year ago, family gatherings had become regularly scheduled events. First, there’d been Keely’s wedding, and after that a birthday celebration for Seamus held at Quinn’s Pub. And last May, Dylan and Meggie’s wedding. And then Christmas at Keely and Rafe’s. And everyone had gathered at the hospital the night Riley was born, a large, noisy family still learning how to be a family.

  Even though Liam’s father was gradually making peace with his runaway wife, not all the old scars had healed. Conor had accepted his mother back with no questions asked, as had Dylan and Brian. But Brendan had maintained a cool distance and Sean was outright hostile toward Fiona. Liam wasn’t sure where he stood yet. Though he wanted to get to know his mother, he had no past to remember. She’d left when he was just a year old.

  “I’ll be there,” Liam said.

  “Good. And see if you can convince Sean to come. Don’t tell him Fiona is going to be there, though. Oh, and bring your camera.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Just be sure you stay out of trouble until then.”

  “Hey, you won’t mention this to Sean, will you? He’s paying me pretty well to help with this case. I could use the money.”

  Conor smiled. “No problem.” With that, he turned and strode out of Quinn’s Pub, Seamus shouting a hearty good-night.

  Liam finished hi
s beer, then followed Conor out the door. He zipped up his jacket and glanced up and down the street. He and Sean had a flat seven blocks from the bar. He could go home and get some sleep or he could go back to the attic and keep his eye on Ellie Thorpe.

  Liam shook his head as he headed for the bus stop. He wasn’t going back for her. He had a job to do and he promised Sean he’d do it. The fact that he hadn’t been able to get Ellie out of his head since he’d met her made absolutely no difference at all.

  “DOUBLE AMERICANO, half caf!”

  A man in a business suit pushed past Ellie to retrieve his coffee from the counter. Ellie raked her fingers through her hair and yawned. She leaned over and counted the number of people in front of her, deciding she’d get four shots of espresso in her latte rather than her usual two. Since her encounter with Liam Quinn three nights ago, she really hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep.

  Her mind flashed back to a memory of him tied up on her living-room floor. A tiny flush warmed her cheeks. She certainly hadn’t expected her next encounter with a handsome man to include a little bondage. Just the thought of indulging in sex games with a man like Liam Quinn was enough to start her blood pumping much more effectively than any form of caffeine could.

  Luckily, the police had dragged him away before she’d had more serious thoughts in that direction. When she’d left New York City, she’d vowed to take a break from men. It wasn’t that she didn’t like men, they just never seemed to like her-enough. She’d had five serious relationships in as many years and all of them had fallen apart for reasons unknown to her. One day everything had been perfect and the next she’d been single again.

  After the second breakup, Ellie had decided that men were just fickle. After the third, she’d determined that she’d have to be more careful with her choices. By the fourth, she’d started to wonder if there was something wrong with her. And after her breakup with Ronald Pettibone, she’d come to the conclusion that she just wasn’t any good at romance.

  Ronald had been a quiet, unassuming man with nothing in his life except his job at the bank. He didn’t watch ESPN, didn’t drink or smoke, and didn’t even have any male friends. And from the moment they’d met, he’d only had eyes for her. Ellie had been sure she’d finally found a man worth loving. And then, again, it was suddenly over with no explanation. Working with him had been unbearable, so she’d decided to leave New York to make a fresh start in Boston.