but he was nearly twenty years younger and more muscular, no longer the lanky kid Quinn had met in New Orleans four years ago. They grappled and rolled on the floor, shoving aside the furniture and grunting with effort. It must have been only a few seconds since Gabe had exploded out of his seat, but it felt like hours, the struggle taking place in slow motion before it froze into a timeless tableau.
She knew she should do something to help, but she was paralyzed with indecision, unsure if she should try to help Gabe subdue Brett or call the police. She was just grabbing for her mobile when Gabe gasped, his eyes opening wide with shock, the moment exploding into shattering reality when Quinn saw the hilt of the knife protruding from Gabe’s side.
She shrieked and dropped the phone from her shaking hand, unable to tear her gaze from Gabe, who wasn’t giving in to the pain. His hands were wrapped around Brett’s throat as the two men thrashed violently on the floor.
Somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed, but Quinn barely heard it. “Gabe, what should I do?” she screamed. “Tell me what to do.”
“Unlock the door,” he said hoarsely. Quinn rushed to the door and opened it just in time to allow police officers to stream into the house, weapons drawn.
Someone grabbed her by the arm and pulled her outside. “My husband,” Quinn wailed. “He’s been stabbed.”
“An ambulance is already on its way,” the officer said. “Let’s get you out of the way.”
Quinn couldn’t see what was happening inside, but there was a lot of shouting. The radio of the officer who was with her crackled, and she heard loud and clear, “The situation is under control. Send the paramedics in as soon as they arrive.”
An ambulance came racing down the street, siren shrieking. Quinn’s legs gave out just as the paramedics rushed inside. She sank to the ground and buried her face in her hands, unable to come to grips with the horror she’d witnessed.
“Here you go, love,” the officer said as he wrapped a foil blanket around her shoulders. “That’s one brave little girl you have.”
“What?” Quinn asked, uncomprehending.
“You daughter. She called the police,” the officer said.
Quinn shook her head. “She’s not at home.” Gabe had dropped the children off, and the table had been set for two. She’d assumed Emma had changed her mind and decided to spend the night at Jill’s.
“No, she’s in her bedroom,” the man said kindly. He pressed a button on his com and said, “Get a family liaison officer here.”
“Please, I need to see her. She must be terrified,” Quinn cried, finally piecing together what must have happened. Emma had probably had her earbuds in, which would explain why she hadn’t come downstairs when Quinn returned home. And she didn’t much like curry, so Gabe must have given her something else for dinner. At some point, Emma had taken the earbuds out and heard what was happening downstairs, possibly after an injured Rufus had come limping into her bedroom. Dear God, how frightened she must have been, Quinn thought, still amazed that Emma had the presence of mind to use her mobile to call the police.
“Don’t you worry. She’s in good hands,” the officer said. Quinn didn’t even know his name. “Let’s get you off the ground, shall we?” he said, opening the door of the police car for her and helping her into the front seat.
Quinn hung her head, her thoughts spinning out of control as the images replayed themselves over and over. She saw the knife protruding from Gabe’s side, the stain spreading as the blood hungrily soaked into the fabric of his cotton shirt. Quinn was in a daze, her mind refusing to cooperate, her hands shaking so badly, she had to push them between her thighs. She barely noticed when two officers led Brett out in handcuffs and forced him into another police car, but her head snapped up when the paramedics wheeled out a gurney.
Quinn jumped out of the car and hurried toward the gurney, the silver blanket fluttering to the ground. “Gabe!” she cried. “Oh, Gabe.”
Gabe gave her a watery smile. He looked pale, and his gaze was glazed, probably with the medication he’d been given for the pain. “I’ll be all right. See to Emma.” His voice was raspy, but he was alert.
“You knew,” Quinn whispered. “You knew she was there all along. Is that why you recited that long prayer, to