By reason of insanity

69

Sierra shocked Quinn that night by announcing that she wanted to go to the movies with some friends. Quinn saw this as a hopeful sign that Sierra was on the road back to normalcy. Teenagers so often leaned on friends.

Still, it made him nervous. "What do you want to see?"

"Young Love," she said. It sounded suspicious to Quinn, and Sierra must have read the look on his face. "It's kind of like a modern Romeo and Juliet," she added.

"What time does it start?"

"We were thinking about going to the one at 9:05."

"Whom are you going with?" Man, I sound like a dad.

"Some friends."

"'Friends' as in girls or 'friends' as in boys?"

Sierra grunted her disapproval, as if all the boys her age were below her standards. It made Quinn smile inside.

"Ashley and Jennifer," she said.

After a thorough cross-examination, Quinn agreed to let Sierra go. He had his reservations about it, especially with Hofstetter's goons prowling about, but he couldn't tell Sierra no. He was starting to understand why dads spoiled their daughters.

In Quinn's opinion, Sierra's cotton stretch top was entirely too tight, hugging her bony torso. He kept that opinion to himself but couldn't shake the feeling that he suddenly felt about ten years older than he had a week ago. What was it with young girls and the way they dressed today, anyway? Unfortunately, Quinn knew all too well what went through the minds of junior high boys.

He drove Sierra to the theater where she was supposed to meet her friends. He dropped her off, circled around the parking lot once, and found a spot in a distant corner. He waited at least fifteen minutes, pulled on a baseball cap, and headed inside. He wasn't being paranoid, he told himself. Hofstetter's thugs were real, and he had a constant source of pain in his right shoulder to prove it.

Quinn bought a ticket to Young Love, a bucket of popcorn, and a Coke. He waited until he was sure the previews had finished before he entered the theater. He slumped into an open seat next to the wall in the second-to-last row and started scouring the room for Sierra and her friends. He spotted them on the other side of the theater, two-thirds of the way down, and he was pleased to see that no boys had joined them.

Quinn pulled the cap down and slouched a little lower, trying to make his shoulder comfortable. The movie was full of banal jokes, cliches, and good-looking teens who couldn't act-at least for the first five minutes, which was exactly how long it took Quinn to doze off into a fitful but oblivious sleep.

"Uncle Quinn. Uncle Quinn."

Somebody shook him, and pain sliced through his shoulder like a knife penetrating to the bone. Quinn shrugged himself awake, groaned, and grabbed his arm.

"I'm sorry," the young voice said. "Are you okay?"

Quinn shook off the grogginess and blinked. Sierra and her two friends were standing in the row just in front of Quinn, looking at him. Other patrons were leaving the theater.

"What are you doing here?" asked Sierra. She looked betrayed, and Quinn couldn't blame her.

He leaned his head back, stretched, and closed his eyes. "Seeing if you need a ride home?"

"I told you we would call," Sierra insisted.

"Yeah," said Quinn. "I know."

On the way back to the condo, Quinn and Sierra listened to the radio, neither speaking. At the Towers, Quinn handed the keys to the valet and walked into the building with Sierra, where the two of them silently rode the elevator to the forty-second floor. Once they entered Quinn's condo unit, he started with the apologies.

"I'm sorry, Sierra. I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"It's okay," she said, but Quinn knew it wasn't. Unlike her mom, Sierra never addressed things head-on. She internalized and brooded until it all came frothing to the surface in some emotional meltdown.

"Sit down," Quinn said, motioning to the kitchen table. "I need to tell you some things."

For the next fifteen minutes, he told Sierra about his encounter with Hofstetter's men from the night before. He left out the accusations about underage sex and the fact that they showed him Sierra's picture, but he told her everything else. As he talked, Sierra took it all in, displaying no emotion.

"I don't want to live with my dad," Sierra said after Quinn finished. She was a smart kid, cutting right to the core issue that Quinn had left unspoken. "If he even is my dad."

Seeing the fear in her eyes, Quinn wondered if he had done the right thing in telling her. He had always promised himself that if he ever had kids, he would always tell them the truth. Maybe it wasn't that easy. It didn't take a genius to know what Sierra was thinking. Her stepdad had tried to abuse her. She would be petrified at the thought of living with a different grown man she didn't even know.

"I'm not going to let that happen," Quinn said. He reached out and put his hand on her forearm. "I've got a plan."

Sierra stared down at the table and tried to hold back the tears welling in her eyes.

"You've got to trust me," Quinn said. "Together, we'll get through this. This time, we'll win the case. It's all going to work out."

Later that night, as Quinn slept on the couch, the loud and insistent ringing of the phone jerked him awake. Pain shot through his right shoulder, and he grimaced, trying to collect his thoughts.

He found the phone. "Hello."

"This is Jimmy from the front desk," said a familiar voice.

Quinn's groggy brain pieced it together. Jimmy, the night security guard.

"I've got somebody here who belongs to you," Jimmy said.

Quinn tensed and glanced around the apartment. His niece's bedroom door was closed. "Sierra?" he asked.

"Yes, sir."

Suddenly Quinn was fully awake. "Don't let her go anywhere," he said. "I'll be right down."

Quinn had fallen asleep in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. He put on his sandals and headed toward the door. The note on the kitchen table stopped him midstride.

Dear Uncle Quinn,

Thanks for everything you've done. Don't worry about me cause I'll be fine. I just think I might need to take off for a little while. It will be better for both of us. I'll come back after the trial when all this stuff is over. Pleeeeease, take care of yourself! I love you and miss you!!!

Sierra

Quinn felt a lump in his throat as he headed down to collect Sierra. What was she thinking?

When he arrived in the lobby, Sierra had a worried look on her face, like a kid waiting in the principal's office for her parents to arrive. Quinn thanked Jimmy and led his niece back to the elevator.

Quinn used the elevator ride to tell Sierra that this was no way to handle their problems. "You can't just run away," he scolded. "Where would you even go?"

When she started to cry, Quinn backed off. He told her that he loved her and that they needed to stick together. She walked down the hallway to the condo without looking at him.

"I just didn't want to cause you any trouble," she said, waiting for Quinn to unlock the door.

Sierra kept things under control until she and Quinn sat down together on the couch. Without warning, she came unraveled. She sobbed uncontrollably and apologized over and over.

Quinn didn't know what else to do, so he just held her with his good arm, let her cry, and tried to reassure her. "We can get through this together," he said. "But not if you try running away every time I turn my head."

She cried for a few minutes, then pulled back and seemed to regain her composure. "You were snoring in that movie theater," she said.

"I was not."

"You were, Uncle Quinn; I swear. More like a snort. Kinda like this…" Sierra made a sound through her nose that made them both laugh.

"I don't snore," said Quinn.

"That is so untrue. I could barely hear the movie."

They argued good-naturedly for a few minutes, and then Quinn suggested they talk in the morning. He had a plan and would tell her all about it then. Running away was not part of it.

She forced another smile and promised to be there when he woke up. Just to be sure, after Sierra closed the door to the bedroom, Quinn pulled a few couch cushions, blankets, and pillows over to the front door and made his bed at the threshold.

Life with a thirteen-year-old was turning out to be very interesting.