It was half an hour before the man who introduced himself as “Gage, River’s friend,” showed up. One look at him and Quinn was pretty sure—from the descriptions he’d gotten from the cook and Beth—this was one of the men they’d seen. His hair was jet black and long enough to tie back. His eyebrows almost met above his nose. Not a unibrow, but damned close to it.
“You ready to go?” Gage asked.
“Yep.”
“Then let’s move it.”
That was about all the man said from then until they were up at River’s cabin—other than telling Quinn, when he asked, “My bud, Den, should already be there. He left before me, and I had to pick you up.”
When they got to the cabin, Gage insisted Quinn go in first. “I have to check something in my trunk.”
With a nod, Quinn crossed the porch, knocked and entered when Riv
