Page 77 of Playing with Fire

“Indeed.”

“Why would you do this to me?” I pointed at the three men who were oblivious an angel had just popped into existence nearby.

“How could I watch my precious grandson mope when you left without him? He needed to stop whining, so I bought them coffee. I may have whispered a few suggestions to his friend to convince him they really needed a refill of coffee while they waited.”

“You poured several hundred dollars worth of pixie dust down their throats to stop Quinn from whining?”

“Consider it part of my wedding gift to you.”

“Your wedding gift is giving me three punch drunk men to babysit?”

“One of them will provide you with certain amusements in due time. He was sulking. I couldn’t just let him sulk while you dealt with business.”

“That really doesn’t explain why Perky and Nilman are so, so happy right now.”

“My little grandson needed someone to play with.”

“I left them alone for maybe an hour. They would have survived.” I sighed, hung my head, and willed myself to have patience.

“A man shouldn’t be sad on his wedding day.”

“I’ll remember this, Sylvester,” I promised.

“You are so entertaining.” The angel fled in a burst of golden light, probably to avoid my wrath. Sneaky, wicked angel.

Unless I intervened, I doubted the three cops would leave the cafeteria, happy to play like children while being amused by the smallest things. “All right, you three. It’s time to go.”

Quinn flashed his panty-igniting smile in my direction. “Hi, beautiful.”

Okay. Maybe I could find a few minutes to drag him into a stairwell first. No one would notice, except the security guys monitoring the cameras. Damn it. “If you don’t get in the car, I can’t take you home, Quinn.”

While pixie dust could short circuit someone in a hurry, it didn’t completely remove their ability to reason and connect the dots. Quinn moved fast when he wanted to and was halfway to the door before I realized he had left his phone and wallet on the table. I gathered his belongings while Perky cracked up laughing.

“I think he wants to go home for some reason. I wonder why that might be.”

Men. “In reality, he’s going to work so he can pester everyone at the station.”

“That’s funny.”

“You’re going to work, too.”

“Work sounds like fun. Let’s go to work, Nilman!”

The pair jumped to their feet and hurried after Quinn, leaving their phones and wallets behind, too. I sighed, gathered their things, and checked the seats and floor for anything else they had dropped during their playful excitement.

Maybe I wouldn’t give Quinn the good stuff after all. I considered hunting down some neutralizer to restore the men to sanity. I sighed and gave up. Who was I to ruin their harmless fun?

Chapter Eighteen

>If someone doesn’t bring me neutralizer in the next five minutes, there will be bodies stashed in the nearest stairwell.

If Quinn, Perky, and Nilman sang another note of a children’s song, I would become a serial killer and a widow at the same time. Easing the SUV into a parking spot at the station, I killed the engine and regarded my passengers with narrowed eyes. Of the three, Nilman seemed the most sober. I turned my glare to him. “So help me, if someone doesn’t bring me neutralizer in the next five minutes, there will be bodies stashed in the nearest stairwell.”

The older cop smiled at me. “Look at them, Gardener. They’re so happy. How could you take their happiness away? It’s so rare.”

Nilman was happy, too, but instead of reminding him of that, I turned around in my seat and banged my head into the steering wheel. “Get the hell out of the car.”

It took a lot of work to herd the three smiling men to the eighth floor. Everyone wanted something from Quinn, who was quite happy to volunteer to help with even the smallest task. After five stops on the way to the elevator, my husband had given himself at least five hours of work.