The Hunt

CHAPTER 39

Two weeks later.

The first day of June boasted clear blue skies and unseasonably warm weather. Miranda’s dress was a simple crepe-backless with spaghetti straps, a draped bodice, and gently flared floor-length skirt. Elegant and classic without seeming out of place for the informal affair. She was pleased she’d made the effort to pin up her mass of curls and actually put on more make-up than a touch of mascara. The look of appreciation and pride on Quinn’s face was obvious. She felt like a giddy teenager beaming over her first love.

Quinn was her first love. First and last.

She smiled at herself in the mirror. A real, genuine smile. She suspected she bounced when she walked, a definite change for her. But when your world suddenly opened up and the weight of fear lifted from your heart, you simply felt lighter all around.

A knock on her cabin door disrupted her moment of solitude. Quinn had left before she dressed-yeah, she knew the groom and bride weren’t supposed to see each other, but that was a stupid rule she was only too happy to break.

“Come in,” she called from her bedroom. “Couldn’t stay away for even ten minutes?”

“Try ten years.”

Miranda dropped her makeup brush and rushed from the bedroom.

“Rowan!” She hugged her friend tightly to her. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

Along with Olivia, Rowan Smith had been her roommate at the FBI Academy ten years ago. She left the Bureau when she sold her first crime novel. Rowan had recently survived her own living nightmare when a brutal killer re-created her fictional murders and sent her sick mementos of his crimes.

Now that the ordeal was behind her, she looked as happy as Miranda felt.

“Quinn called,” Rowan said, her eyes twinkling. “Did you think I’d miss you and that stubborn fool finally tying the knot?”

“I knew it would happen.” Olivia stepped into view. Miranda reached for her hand and squeezed it.

“I thought you’d gone back to Virginia.”

“I did. I just returned to Montana last night.” She smiled. “You look happy.”

“I am.” She glanced around. “Rowan, did you bring the guy Quinn told me about? John?”

“He’s talking with Quinn and your dad up at the Lodge. We were sent to change and fetch you.” Rowan looked at peace, like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Miranda knew exactly how she felt. Yet Rowan walked like she was still in pain, and eased herself into a chair, her face deliberately blank.

“What’s wrong? Quinn said you were fine.”

Rowan waved off her concern. “I am fine,” she said. “It’s just been a long day and my body isn’t rebounding as fast as it did in the past. When that bank robber shot me eight years ago, it only took me two weeks to feel like myself.” She laughed. “I’m getting old.”

“Hey, I resent that,” Liv said, crossing her arms. “I’m five years older than you.”

“And you look five years younger,” Rowan countered.

Miranda noticed two garment bags from a Bozeman dress shop and wrinkled her nose. She loved her simple white wedding dress, but had no intention of wearing anything other than jeans after the reception. “What are those?”

“We’re your co-maids of honor,” Liv explained with a wide smile.

“I can’t believe it.”

Rowan shrugged. “I didn’t think Quinn had a romantic streak, but it was all his idea.”

Rowan slowly rose from the chair. “We’d better get changed, Liv.”

Miranda was about to follow them into her bedroom when her cabin door opened and the love of her life stood on the threshold.

She smiled and said, “Isn’t there some sort of rule that you’re not supposed to see the bride before the wedding?”

Quinn crossed the room and pulled her into his arms. “You look beautiful. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

She kissed him and his hands trailed down her neck to her shoulder, making her shiver with anticipation.

“I love you, Miranda.”

“I know,” she teased, then realized he wasn’t smiling. “What’s wrong?”

“I almost lost you. It’s not something I’m going to forget anytime soon.”

“I’m okay.”

“Are you? Really? Because I’m not.” He ran a hand through his hair, fidgeting.

“I am really okay. For the first time since the attack, I feel free. I faced David Larsen and didn’t panic, didn’t run. I did the best I could with what I had.”

“You sure did. But I’m also thinking about what happened ten years ago.”

“I told you, the past is the past.” Why did he keep bringing it up? What did he hope to accomplish?

“What happened then kept us apart.”

“It’s more my fault than yours.” She truly believed that. “I could have returned. And maybe under different circumstances, I would have.” She paused, trying to figure out how to explain her feelings, ideas that had just started forming over the last two weeks since David Larsen and Delilah Parker died.

“I’ll never understand fate. Why Sharon died. But I do believe there was a reason I didn’t go back to Quantico. At the time, it was easy to blame you and the shrink and my own fears. But looking back on my decision not to return to the Academy, I realize it was the right choice. Maybe I didn’t think it through like that, but in hindsight if I wasn’t here, maybe Ashley and Nick wouldn’t have been found until it was too late.

“I can’t discount my contribution to this investigation, just like I know if you hadn’t returned to help things might have ended a lot differently. So I think everything happened the way it did because it was supposed to. And I’m not going to regret my choices, even if I made them for the wrong reasons.”

Quinn wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her. Long, slow, warm. This was exactly where she was supposed to be.

“And you’re okay about having to postpone the honeymoon?”

“Oh, please.” For some reason, Quinn felt bad that they couldn’t go on their honeymoon until September. He’d taken the last two weeks off to put together the wedding. “We had the honeymoon before the wedding,” she said and laughed.

He grinned. “We sure did.”

“I love you, Quincy Peterson. And now you’re stuck with me, warts and all.”

“What warts?” He smiled and kissed her ear, sucking on her lobe.

“Stop that or we’ll be late for our own wedding.”

“So?” he murmured. “They can’t have a wedding without the bride and groom.”

She laughed. She’d laughed more during the last two weeks than she had in the previous ten years. She looked forward to many years of joy with the man she loved.

The ceremony was peaceful and small, just their closest friends at the Lodge. Quinn’s parents had flown in for the day, joining Miranda’s father, Gray, Nick, a couple of the deputies, and her Search and Rescue team.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Peterson.”

Quinn smiled as he kissed her lightly.

She arched her eyebrows. “Mrs. Peterson? I thought I’d keep my maiden name.”

“Whatever you want, Ms. Moore.”

She laughed and threw her arms around him. “I think Mrs. Peterson sounds perfect.”

He spun her around and she laughed again. When was the last time she’d felt so free?

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Nick approach. She squeezed Quinn’s shoulder, and he released her.

“Nick, I’m so glad you came. How are you doing?”

He nodded without emotion. Her heart twisted for her friend. His eyesight still hadn’t fully returned and glasses didn’t completely correct his problem. The infection had run its course, leaving him thin and hollow-looking. Though he didn’t talk about it, Miranda knew the decision he made to go down to Richard Parker’s cabin alone haunted him.

She hugged Nick tightly. He’d been a solid friend when she’d needed one. “It’s finally over, Nick. We got him.”

“It was my life for years.” He looked at her pointedly. “Your life, too.” He glanced at Quinn. “I’m glad you’ve been able to get beyond it. Really I am.”

“If you want to talk about anything, call me. You know I’d do anything for you.”

“I know, but you’re moving to Seattle.”

“They have phones in Seattle.”

“True.” He smiled wanly. “I’ll be fine.”

Miranda nodded, though she still worried about Nick. He hadn’t bounced back as quickly as she’d thought he would, and had been talking about not running for reelection. She hoped he would change his mind, especially since he’d decided not to remove Sam Harris from his position as undersherriff.

“Take care of her,” Nick said to Quinn with a look that meant business.

“I will.” Quinn wrapped his left arm around Miranda and squeezed while extending his right to Nick. They shook hands and Nick left.

“I’m worried about him,” Miranda said, pulling her eyes from Nick’s retreating back and looking into Quinn’s chocolate-brown depths.

“I know. He’ll be okay. He just needs to do a little soul-searching.” Quinn kissed his wife. “You know I love you.”

She smiled and nodded. “I love you too.”

“Do you think we can sneak back to your place?” He whispered in her ear. Shivers ran through her body as he lightly kissed her neck.

“Ummm. Don’t tempt me.”

“Why not?” He kissed her ear.

“Your mother is watching.”

“So?”

“Quinn!”

He laughed and hugged her. “One hour, max. Then I’m taking you to bed.”

“I don’t know if I can wait an hour.” There was nothing more she wanted to do than take Quinn to bed. Now.

He smiled. “I think we can sneak off in ten minutes.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

And she did.