involved with Alexi Ronoff. That particular piece of intel fired up a burning sensation deep within his gut.
Adjusting his sunglasses, he strolled out into the bright sunshine and hailed a cab. He gave the driver the address for the marina where his sailboat was docked. No sense wasting time heading home to change. He had clothes aboard the Seas the Day and more at his secure cyber getaway he’d dubbed the Think Tank. The sooner he solved this puzzle, the better. He told himself his eagerness was because he wanted to solve a murder. Not because we wanted to have an excuse to delve deeper into the mystery of Quinn Darby.
Chapter Three
Quinn sat in the shaded corner of the marina’s deck, sipping her iced coffee. Hiding behind her sunglasses, she pretended to watch the gulls dive-bomb the trash cans along the small dock surrounding the restaurant when, in fact, her gaze was riveted several yards farther in the distance. Standing aboard an impressive sailboat docked in one of the slips closest to the marina, a sandy-haired, shirtless man was vigorously polishing the chrome railing. The bronzed muscles in his back bunched and flexed seductively with every pass of the cloth.
She remembered those capable hands. Their warmth and their innate strength. So much like the careful, confident boy they belonged to. Except, as she’d discovered last night, he wasn’t a boy any longer. Ben Segar was all grown up. She sucked on a piece of ice to try to cool her body’s reaction to the sexy adult version of her high school lab partner.
It wasn’t working.
“Ah, I see you’ve spotted one of Watertown’s natural wonders.”
The waitress’s words startled Quinn.
“We probably should charge extra for the view when Ben’s in town,” the other woman remarked as she placed a crab salad on the table in front of Quinn. The waitress’s gaze lingered on Ben a bit longer than necessary before a soft sigh escaped her lips. “If only I was twenty years younger.”
“Does he come here often?”
Quinn was both relieved and surprised when she’d received the intel Ben had gone directly from the Department of Homeland to his sailboat still wearing his tuxedo. She’d been even more surprised to find out the destination of his morning sail was his hometown, Watertown, Maryland.
“His family owns this marina,” the waitress replied, not telling Quinn anything she didn’t already know. “He lives in DC, but he sails over for the weekend pretty regularly. Dotes on his mom. Kind of sweet, really.” She then drifted off to wait on another table.
Quinn wasn’t sure why she expected Ben to have left Watertown in his rearview mirror years ago. Or that he would be living in some exotic locale running his own billion-dollar company by now. Except he’d been a gifted kid with a brilliant mind. Unlike her, whose path had been set since the cradle, the world held endless possibilities for him.
Instead, he was a computer analyst for the Secret Service. Not even a gun-toting agent. Well respected, but a bit tame for the boy who’d once dreamed of being the next Bill Gates.
Her feelings were jumbled about being back in the quaint bayside town after all this time. Not much had changed, a fact for which she was glad. Watertown was always her safe haven even if only in her mind. The past years spent shifting from identity to identity had gone from exhilarating to isolating. The oddity of her existence becoming more pronounced the longer she remained in the game. During those dark times, her mind often drifted back to the folksy town where she would fantasize about what might have been. The memory of the water and the slower pace always calmed her down.
“Everything okay with your salad?” the waitress asked.
“It’s wonderful,” Quinn lied. Her thoughts were so consumed with the past, she’d yet to take a bite. She stabbed some crab with her fork.
The waitress laughed. “Ben has that effect on women. Just a word of warning though, he’s a confirmed bachelor. He frequently entertains”—she made air quotes with her fingers—“women aboard his boat. But no one has been able to get a commitment out of him. Rumor has it he’s still nursing a broken heart from the one that got away.”
The other woman’s words had Quinn nearly choking on her lunch. She reached for her water glass and gulped down its contents despite her throat constricting with something feeling a lot like guilt. No doubt he’d been hurt when she didn’t show