Page 70 of Dead & Breakfast
“Right…” Arthur eyed the sausages with trepidation, his train of thought quite derailed by Sal’s dramatics. “Anyway, did you notice the way Nora clammed up when you mentioned Quinn?”
“Indeed! Such delicious tension!”
“I don’t think she’s been sleeping well. The bags under her eyes were more substantial than her luggage when she arrived. Perhaps the pillows are not to her liking.”
“Yes, well, she has a high-pressure job and an unrequited love, my dear. You ought to know something about that.”
“Unrequited love?”
“Oh, you know you wanted me right away.” Sal quirked an eyebrow and licked his lips. “I, on the other hand, was very cool.”
“To the touch, maybe,” Arthur muttered, but he was saved the unfortunate job of clarifying the narrative of their love story by Nora’s reappearance. Now she looked the part of city manager inher blue blouse and skirt. She was even a few inches taller in her heels. So much for creating a relaxed atmosphere from which to launch his interrogation.
Before Arthur could ask why she’d changed, the front door opened. Sal rushed out to greet Quinn, who looked almost cheerful until she caught sight of Nora on the other side of the dining table. Her face fell.
“What’s she doing here?” Quinn groaned.
Arthur glanced at the coffee mugs, freshly poured, almost expecting to see them ice over. Whatever was going on between these two hadn’t gotten any better in the days since Nora’s arrival. If anything, it was worse. Perhaps it had something to do with Brody’s attack last night.
“You can’t expect us to exclude our paying guest, can you?” Sal gestured Quinn toward the table, pulling out a chair for her. Quinn’s nostrils flared, but she sat down all the same. Arthur knew well the position she was in, being swept along by Sal’s charms while trying to stay furious with him. If he’d been in a more charitable mood, he would have intervened.
“You said you had information on the break-in—” Quinn began, but Sal waved her off.
“Not before the yum-yum! Come on, the coffee will get cold.”
Nora glanced at Arthur, and for a moment they shared identical fond exasperation, then she reached for the chair beside him.
“No, no! Nora, dear, you’re here next to Quinnie!” Sal guided her by the shoulders to the other side of the table.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Nora muttered under her breath.
Quinn, on the other hand, took no pains to lower her voice. “Don’t call me Quinnie.”
“No? What nickname would you prefer? Quinner? Q-tip?”
“No nicknames.”
“Ah, a Quinnter chill…”
Rather than reply, Quinn reached for her coffee and drained her mug in one fell swoop. When she was done, she put the mug down on its saucer and set her gaze on Arthur. “Now, what do you know about who broke into my office?”
Arthur snuck a glance at Nora. She didn’t look up from her plate, fork toying with her hash browns.
“We know who is responsible for it,” Arthur said, taking a bite from his own plate. It wasn’t blood, but he had to admit ketchup was a particular triumph of human invention.
“And? Are you going to actually tell me?” She placed her hand palm down on the table as she leaned forward, a tremor building in her voice.
“Not just yet, I think. I have a few questions of my own.” Arthur wiped the corner of his mouth with his napkin and returned it to his lap before continuing. “First, have you heard about what happened to Brody Young last night?”
The mood around the table got even tenser. Nora frowned and nodded. “I woke up to an email about it from the sheriff. He’s still in critical condition.”
“And so did I,” Quinn said icily. “What does that have to do with the break-in?”
“I’ll get to that,” Arthur said. This whole confronting-the-suspects business was quite thrilling. “You told security nothing was stolen from your office.”
“So? A break-in’s still a break-in. Just because they didn’t manage to take anything valuable doesn’t mean they won’t try again.”
“But they did takesomething, didn’t they?” Arthur eyed her carefully. “Why lie?”
