Mighty Quinns 03 - Brendan by Kate Hoffmann

Author:Kate Hoffmann
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2001-01-02T05:00:00+00:00

Instead, he shook his head and picked up his groceries. So much for his distaste for the manly art of fisticuffs. When it came to Amy, he felt like punching the guy in the trench coat, the drunk at the bar and most especially, the uptight, buttondown creep in the photograph.

When he got up on deck he took a long look across the waterfront, searching for the man who was searching for Amy. But he was nowhere to be found. Brendan stepped through the hatch and found the main cabin empty. "€œAmy?"€

He set the groceries down and walked forward, looking into her cabin and his. The boat was silent. His mind immediately went to the man outside. If Amy was off the boat, then there was every chance he'€™d run into her on the way back. Brendan cursed softly and began to pace the length of the main cabin. Where would she have gone? She'€™d sent him out for groceries with some excuse about having something important to do.

Brendan'€™s breath froze, then he hurried back to her cabin, expecting to see all her belongings gone. But clothes were still scattered over her berth and her suitcase was tossed on the bunk above. He headed back toward the hatch, determined to go out and find her. She didn'€™t have a car, so she couldn'€™t have gone far. But just as he was opening the hatch door, she appeared.

"€œWhere the hell have you been?"€ Brendan asked.

The wide smile faded from her face, replaced by a frown. "€œI was out,"€ she said.

He reached into his pocket, ready to wave the photo under her nose and demand an explanation. Or maybe he'€™d throw his meeting with the guy in the trench coat at her. But a cooler mind prevailed and Brendan stepped away from the hatch, allowing her to pass.

"€œWhat'€™s wrong with you?"€ she asked, giving him a look as she climbed down the stairs.

"€œNothing,"€ he said. "€œWhen I found you gone, I thought maybe you'€™d fallen in and drowned."€

Amy shrugged off her jacket and tossed it on the sofa berth, then grabbed the laptop and sat down at the galley table. She flipped it open and waited for the program to load, tapping her fingers impatiently on the table.

"€œAren'€™t you going to tell me where you were?"€ Brendan asked.

"€œWhat are you, my mother?"€ she murmured. She reached in her pocket and pulled out a sheaf of papers, then smoothed them out beside the computer. A few moments later, she began to type, her fingers flying over the keys. When he opened his mouth to speak, she held up her hand to stop him. "€œJust one second,"€ she said. She returned to her typing, ignoring him for a full five minutes.

Brendan slipped out of his own jacket then returned to the counter to unpack the groceries. By the time he was done, she had stopped typing but was still staring at the screen. "€œThere,"€ she murmured, "€œI think I got it."€

"€œGot what? Tomorrow'€™s grocery list?"€

"€œThe interview,"€ she said.

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