Adam blinked, and Amanda saw his gaze flick to where Quinn was standing with his phone.

“Yes, including him,” Hayley said with a laugh. “Charlie’s intimidating in an entirely different way.”

“If I remember right from your wedding, more like a hurricane,” Amanda said, earning a grin from Hayley, and a sideways glance and the faintest of smiles from Adam.

But when Quinn came back to the table, his expression was unexpectedly grim. Perhaps someone really had called for help. But he sat back down, and when he did he looked right at Amanda. She drew back slightly, suddenly worried.

“That was Deputy Lindholm,” he said, his tone serious. “Apparently, they found the car that hit you.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “Where?”

“On a rural road off the 101 in the next county. It was abandoned, but the damage matches, paint transfer matches, and it has—” his gaze flicked to Adam “—a parking pass hanging from the mirror.”

“Driver?” Adam asked.

“That’s the sticky part.” Quinn’s expression went grim. “It was reported stolen this morning, a couple of hours before it hit you.”

Adam went very still. “The owner?” he asked, quietly.

“Older woman who lives at Puget Shores Retirement Village. Hence the parking pass.”

“Definitely not,” Adam said.

“Agreed,” said Quinn. “There’s no reason to doubt her story.”

“So that’s why he ran, then,” Amanda said, wondering what the odds were that she’d be hit by a stolen car.

“One reason anyway.”

She frowned. “Why else?”

“I’m just looking at all the possibilities,” Quinn said.

“But this explains everything,” Amanda said, “doesn’t it?”

“I just find the timing interesting.”

“Timing?”

“What he’s saying,” Adam cut in, his gaze fixed steadily on Quinn, “is that this might not have been an accident.”

Chapter 12

Amanda didn’t believe it, Adam could see it in her face, her eyes. He remembered how hard Greg had worked to shelter her from the realities he dealt with every day. Sometimes Adam had thought he worked too hard at it, that if anything ever did rebound on her she would be totally unprepared. But he had never voiced that thought. He wasn’t a father, what did he know? And he certainly wasn’t Amanda’s father.

What he had felt every time he saw her was far from fatherly.

Now that wasn’t a problem. Well, not a big one anyway. He might still feel that tug whenever he saw her, but it was hard to feel attracted to someone who hated your guts.

“It’s just a possibility,” Quinn was saying.

Just a possibility. True, no doubt. But Adam’s gut was churning. Greg had always said he had great instincts, but surely after five years they were beyond rusty, if not rusted away completely? Maybe it was just the response of being here, with Quinn and, above all, Amanda.