Page 94 of His Forgotten Colton Fiancee
“Yeah.” Rusty looked around. “Bad thing. Bad for business.”
Of course, the man only thought in dollars and cents. Still West pressed on.Surely Rusty had to have some paternal instinct floating in his alcohol-laden brain.
“Do you know anyone who would want to hurt your daughter? Have you heard anything about someone complaining about Quinn? Complaining enough to seriously injure her?”
Rusty shook his head.
“What about Tia Linwicki?”
“Tia. That broad always had her nose in the air.”
“Was she close to Quinn?”West wanted to shake the man. This was a bar. Gossip abounded, unless Rusty had been too drunk to pay attention.
“I don’t know. Quinn’s an odd sort. Kid’s always kept to herself. Never shared money with her old man.” Rusty leaned on the bar, the greed shining in his eyes discernible even in this low light. “You sweet on her?”
Odd, hearing Rusty say that old-fashioned term. West shrugged.“We dated. Broke it off. Just wondering if she said anything to you.”
“No. I barely talk to her.” Rusty frowned. “Too bad. You’re better off. Quinn can be a bitch, just like her mother.”
That was it. “No one calls my Quinn a bitch,” West snapped.
West stood up, and slugged the man. Rusty fell off the stool, his arm sweeping over his beer mug, spilling it to the floor.
Standingover him, fists clenched, he was ready to deliver another punch when someone grabbed him.
West started to shrug him off.
“Easy, big guy. Whoa, Agent Brand.”
Recognizing the voice, he calmed a little.
“Let’s take it outside,” Brayden said. The K-9 officer gripped West’s arm and dragged him away. “Not here. Not with my father. Not worth it. C’mon.”
Outside, West gulped down freshair, glad to get the stink of smoke and beer out of his lungs.
He glanced at the other man. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Brayden’s expression flattened. “Same as you. Trying to get information, find out anything about the person who killed Tia. Shane hasn’t been able to dig up anything and the bar can be a good source for information.”
“But not lately.” West dragged in anotherdeep breath.
“No. Too many people are scared these days after that bomb.” Brayden released West.
They walked out to the parking lot.
“Sorry for decking your old man,” West told Brayden.
The K-9 officer grinned. “No problem. I want to deck him myself at times. Maybe I’ll deck your old man and we’ll call it even.”
West felt the familiar, unpleasant tug in his chest. “He’s dead.”
Brayden blinked. “Sorry. When?”
“Years ago.” He didn’t want to talk about it, never had, except with Quinn.
Fortunately, Brayden didn’t press him. At West’s truck, the other officer turned, shoved his hands into his pants pockets. “You love my sister.”
A statement from Brayden. West stared at the ground, too miserable to answer. He felt like a total heel.
