“Mr. Foxworth.” He said it respectfully, although he doubted it would make any difference to this man. He glanced at Amanda, who was glaring at him with such hostility he wondered how he was still on his feet. “I’ll...wait,” he said, and turned away from her without saying anything more. He walked a few feet to his right, belatedly realizing someone was there. A woman. But no one he knew.

“Adam.”

He stopped, blinking, as the woman called him by name. “I...don’t know you, do I?”

“We’ve never met, no. I’m Hayley, Quinn’s wife.”

“Oh.” He didn’t remember Quinn having been married before.

“Almost a year now,” she said, as if she’d heard his thought. “We met a little over two years ago when he kidnapped me and my dog.”

Adam blinked. “He what?”

“It’s a long and, if I do say so myself, entertaining story. But not something you want to hear just now, I’m guessing.”

“No, Mrs. Foxworth. I need to get...out of Amanda’s sight. If I’d realized she was here, I would have waited until she was gone.”

“Hayley, please. And I understand. She does seem a bit...angry.”

He let out a sour chuckle. “Angry isn’t the half of it.”

“She still blames you?” At his look she nodded. “Quinn told me the story. And,” she added, “he said it wasn’t anyone’s fault. And more, that you probably saved his life, after he was shot.”

“He’s more generous than he should be,” he said flatly.

“I certainly wouldn’t argue that, although not in the sense you mean.”

“Amanda’s father died because I didn’t check carefully enough before I went inside the store. He had an accomplice still outside who killed Greg. Nothing can change that.”

He had never forgotten anything about that day, no matter how much he would like to. And even if his mind had cooperated his right arm, the elbow shattered by a gunshot, wouldn’t. The limit on its range of motion reminded him multiple times a day, and every time the weather changed he was even more sharply reminded for the time it took the old injury to adjust.

The bottom line was that everything Amanda Bonner had screamed at him that day in the hospital was true.

“I understood you were cleared of culpability by the official investigation,” Hayley said.

He held her gaze then. “In large part because of your husband’s deposition. Like I said, more generous than he should be.”

He turned to go, but she spoke again, and he couldn’t walk away without being more rude than he wanted to be to Quinn Foxworth’s wife.

“You’re living over on the dry side, Quinn said.”

He was a little surprised Quinn knew that, but then realized his cutting and running for home had probably been common knowledge.