Page 9 of Hold a Candle

Quinn and he had played some sports together during high school and remained close enough that Quinn was able to convince him he should become a constable as well. So, Jamie had given it a shot.

Right around the time he’d gotten tased so he would know what that felt like if he were to use a taser on a perpetrator, he’d decided law enforcement wasn’t for him. Once he’d stopped drooling and flushing five shades of red because of the wet patch appearing on the front of his jeans as he lay on the floor unable to make his limbs obey, Jamie had resigned.

Quinn had just grinned and agreed that the job wasn’t for everybody. So, he’d contacted the local medical examiner and recommended Jamie as a lab assistant because he did have computer skills.

It was during this brief career that Jamie had learned a bit about crime scene analysis when Mort O’Hara, the medical examiner, had insisted that he come along to the crime scenes. He would record the facts the jovial Irishman dictated to him in a notebook. He’d liked Mort a lot. With twinkling blue eyes and a wicked sense of humor, Mort made a macabre job much less stressful than it might have been.

Jamie had remained somewhat interested in his work until the lab was handed a mostly decomposed body in a barrel of chemicals. After sorting, sifting, and tabulating body parts from the chemicals, he’d hung up his rubber gloves, boots, facemask and slicker, and decided to try something else. Even Mort’s sense of humor didn’t stretch far enough for Jamie to want to make that his life’s work.

Deciding he liked the administrative side of computers, he’d gone to a young professional’s business career training course in London for six months and found the idea of travel intriguing. It was there he’d met with prospective employers and finally signed up with a company called World Equipment Placement Incorporated (WPPI). The best part about it was that he didn’t have to move out of Scotland. There was a lot of travel involved, but his home base would still be Inverness. Having no desire to live anywhere but Scotland, it clicked for him and felt right.

A year later, he’d met Rhonda Descant at a business meeting with his company in their London based office. She’d totally blown him away with her laughing green eyes and bubbly personality. The New Orleans native had traveled with her father, who was president of WPPI, because she loved to travel and wanted to see the world. Every minute that wasn’t spent in meetings was spent in Rhonda’s company, and within six months, he’d married her.

Losing Rhonda three years ago to cancer had devastated him and he didn’t figure he’d ever find another woman who could hold a candle to his lost love.

Until Pauley MacBride.

“So, what can I do fer ye, Jamie?”

Watching Quinn replace the telephone on the receiver brought Jamie out of his mind-wandering tour. His gaze caught the guarded look in the man’s gray eyes and wasn’t sure how much friendship would play a role when he asked his question.

“Why did ye take Pauley MacBride off my case?”

Quinn studied him for a moment, then leaned back in his office chair twiddling a pencil between his fingers. “Why do ye want to know?”

Jamie huffed and narrowed his eyes. “Because she impressed me with her work,” he replied testily. “Then she calls me a short while ago and says the case is no longer hers and refers me to some detective called Mica Peterson.”

Quinn nodded. “Mica is an excellent detective, ye’ll be in good hands with him.”

“I don’t want Mica, I want Pauley,” Jamie snapped. “I already have a rapport with her, and I no want to start with another detective,” he added as a flash of understanding raced across Quinn’s face.

A big grin slid into a home run on Quinn’s mouth and he leaned forward to stare at Jamie with a knowing eye. “Ye like her.”

Jamie shifted slightly, but he could still outstare Quinn and make him blink first. It was one of the few things he’d learned while in the police academy that he’d found worthwhile. The fine art of making people uncomfortable with a fixed stare. They usually gave in and felt the need to say something more. Quinn did—right after he blinked.

“Don’t look at me like that, laddie.”

“I barely know the woman, I simply don’t like last minute changes,” Jamie replied, a quirk of amusement lifting the sides of his lips. “Why the change, Quinn? Did ye do it because we’re friends and she’s actually incompetent or something?”

Quinn’s eyes narrowed, apparently mulling over something in his head. Finally, he replied, “Nay, nothing like that. This will be on the news tonight anyway, so I might as well tell ye. Just keep it under yer hat until it’s public. We are trying to downplay the kid’s part in it for safety reasons.”

“The kid?”

“The kid that got the drop on the dead man is Pauley’s youngest son, Luca. Naturally, she can’t be the investigator, it’s a conflict of interest.”

Jamie’s jaw dropped. “Her son? How old is this kid? What does he have to do with all of it?”

“He’s 21 and damned lucky is what he is,” Quinn snapped. “How he managed to come out on top with someone like Ruskag is anybody’s guess, but it could have repercussions with the people Ruskag worked for.” Then his voice lowered in sympathy. “Pauley’s had a rough time with that one since her divorce. Luca blames her for the breakup with his father.”

“Sounds like he’s fallen in with a rough crowd,” Jamie mused with a nod. “And it sounds like the lad needs some fatherly guidance.”

Quinn’s eyes twinkled. “Are ye applying fer the job?”

Jamie stared. “Me? Lord, no. I was actually thinking of Darro MacCandish and Angus Sangster up at Neamh. Neither one of them allow foolishness on Heaven’s Gate property. Darro is deadly with a horsewhip, I’m told.”

Jamie chuckled at the memory of Angus’s recounting of the horsewhip biting into young Dallas MacIntosh’s rear when he dared to steal his biccies from the barn office. Darro was a hard man, but a fair one. A man to have on your side when everything around you was going to banshee screaming hell.

Quinn nodded with a smirk. “Aye, Darro and I are good friends, and I heard the same story ye are grinning at, I’m guessing. The one where young Dallas learned a lesson?”

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