Eat a pizza once or twice amonth. Build up a stash of decent chocolate.
Tell his uncleno. Isuspected he’dnever done that.
“What made you leave thearmy?” he asked, glancing at me before taking another slice of pizza. “You can’tbe all that much older than me.”
“Twenty-seven,” I admitted. “AndI didn’t so much leave as they kicked me out.”
Quinn’s eyes widened.
I grinned. This story alwaysgot a fun reaction.
“There was a bit of anincident with an explosion,” I said, tapping my left ear. “Insurgents. I doubtyou even heard about it on the news, but anyway. I’m deaf in this ear now. Sothey kicked me out.”
It was getting easier to sayit. All of it. Even thekicked outbit.
I was even starting to wearit as a mark of pride. I might not have been what the British Army wanted in aman anymore, but that didn’t have to mean I was totally useless.
Living to fight another dayhad its perks.Livingwas a perk.
I’d always wanted to be adetective, and I might never have had the chance otherwise. All I needed nowwas to be agooddetective.
“Wow.” Quinn swallowed. “I…I don’t know what to… that must have been terrifying.”
“No, you know, the firstthing I saw when I regained consciousness was a friendly face. And my lip was bleeding,and my ears were ringing and I felt like half a building had come down onme—mostly because it had—but Gray was right there for me.”
“Gray, your businesspartner?” Quinn asked.
“That’s him,” I confirmed. “That’swhy I followed him back to Sacramento. I wouldn’t be here without him, I think.The scar and the ear are all you can see now, but I was in a bad way. Brokenribs and foot, concussed, half-blind too. That came good, but… hearing’s nevercome back. And it won’t.”
“I can’t imagine—uh…”
“It’s okay. You’re amusician. It’d be a bigger disaster for you than me.”
“Mozart was deaf,” Quinnsaid. “Didn’t seem to hold him back all that much. I’d cope. I just can’timagineit.”
“You’d be surprised what youcan get used to.” I shrugged. “Any further thoughts on who might have yournotebook?” I asked, watching Quinn settle as deep into the couch cushions astheir stiffness allowed, closing his eyes, one hand laid over his stomach.
He looked better. Lesstired, less stressed, less gaunt than he had been earlier. A spark of pridebounced around my chest at having been responsible for that.
Quinn sighed. This was aline of questioning he didn’t want to go into, and I hated that I had to askhim about it.
But Ididhave toask.
“I had a guy fix mydishwasher, and he stuck around for a cup of coffee after. We talked about hisdog. He seemed nice. No one else has access except, like… building maintenance,and I doubt they’d take a notebook. It doesn’t make sense.”
He was right about that. Whyonly leak the one song? For that matter, why leak the song at all? Why not tryto sell the notebook to a fan, or something? There was good money in thingslike that.
“The only other person inthe house recently was Uncle Vincent,” he continued. “And you, I guess,although if you did it I suppose I’ll never know.”
Vincent.
He kept coming up, but Icouldn’tsee his motive in this. If he was Quinn’s manager, he had no reason to endangerhis career, did he?
My personal feelings abouthim being an absolute walking cock were probably making me look for reasons tolike him even less.
“I’d suspect me if I had amotive,” I admitted. “But I can only lose from having this happen on my watch.”
“This isn’t your fault,”Quinn said. “I dunno, my head’s all fuzzy right now. But I don’t blame you.”
