Quinn stared at the painting and then at Cade. “I’ve followed your art for years. I didn’t put you and ConC together. Wow.”
Cade was taken aback by the awe in his expression. “You’re into street art?”
“I’m into all art, although I can’t draw to save my life. But I follow a lot of young artists. I prefer street art to old Masters. I think your style is the most original I’ve ever seen.”
Cade was touched to see the big man blush. Cade had never really decided what he wanted to focus on. Before the music contract, he’d gotten an international reputation as an up-and-coming artist, thanks to a breakout piece of art on an old wall in downtown Seattle. He loved his art, he loved his music. He wanted to do both, but the music sucked up all his time.
Cade slipped off his jacket to hang up in his bedroom, but he took a step back when Quinn leaned forward to study the ink on his arms.
“Sorry.” Quinn smiled at him. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Is that your work?”
“Some,” Cade said, glancing at it indifferently. “I go to different artists to do the ink. I like their work. You like tattoos?”
“I always have.” Quinn took off his own jacket and pushed up the sleeves of his sweater to reveal full sleeves of work.
“Nice!” Cade leaned forward to study Quinn’s arms. “That’s Jack Booker, isn’t it?”
“You recognize his work?”
Cade nodded. “I study all the tattoo artists.”
“He’s my brother-in-law,” Quinn admitted. “I was one of his first guinea pigs.” He pulled a wry face. “He’s gotten better since the early days.”
“Booker is your brother-in-law?.” Now it was Cade’s turn to be awed. “Amazing. I can’t wait to meet him. Can I meet him?”
“Sure.” Quinn chuckled. “But he’s not that exciting.”
“He is to me,” Cade said. “He’s one of the reasons I started painting.”
“You never thought of being a tattoo artist yourself?” Quinn asked.
Cade shook his head. “I never wanted to ink people. I faint at the sight of too much blood.”
Quinn burst out laughing, and Cade scowled.
“I’m not kidding. When I get my own work done, I can’t look at it until they’ve wiped away all the blood.”
“There we have something in common,” Quinn admitted. “I can deal with patching up wounds and injuries in the field, but if one of my nieces even has a graze on her knee or I’m bleeding myself, I wanna hurl.”
The doorbell rang and to Cade’s amusement, Quinn jumped back, his eyes wide. “What the hell?”
Cade grinned. “Yeah. Good, isn’t it? The previous owner installed it. He was hard of hearing.”
“Good is not the word I’d use. Deafening maybe,” Quinn muttered as he went to answer the door. He looked back at Cade. “Get out of sight,” he ordered.
Cade glowered at the abrupt order, but he obeyed, heading into the kitchen. He couldn’t resist hovering by the doorway. Quinn strode over to the door and peered through the peephole.
Quinn turned, frowning when he saw Cade, but he said, “It’s UPS. Are you expecting anything to be delivered?”
“Not today,” Cade said.
“Okay.” Quinn turned back to the door. “Who is it?”
“UPS. Delivery for Mr. Connolly.”
Cade relaxed, recognizing the delivery man’s voice.
“Show me your ID through the peephole. Leave the box on the door.”
“You’ve gotta sign for it.”
Quinn flung the door open and Cade spotted a stocky kid standing on the step with a long box, the kind for delivering long stemmed flowers.
He emerged from the kitchen, but Quinn waved at him and he retreated back to the doorway.
“Oh, hey, Cade.” The kid waved at him.
“Hi, Juan,” Cade said. “How’s your mom?”
“She’s good. The baby’s due soon.”
Quinn took delivery of the box. The kid seemed unfazed by Quinn’s caution and once he’d gotten his signature, he said goodbye to Cade, and clattered back down the steps toward his truck. Quinn shut the door and looked at Cade.
“You know him?”
“Yeah. He’s harmless. His mom’s a fan.”
Cade held his hand out for the box, but Quinn shook his head. “It’s from a florist.” He read out the address and Cade pulled a face. “It’s from Batty Brenda.”
“Who?”
“A fan of mine. Her online name is Tessie235. I call her Batty Brenda because she reminds me of an old neighbor. She is irritating, not dangerous, and apart from the flowers and the letters, she’s never tried to hurt me or contact me. I give the flowers to my assistant. She really likes them.”
“How long has she been doing this for? How many fans do you have who know where you live?”
Cade shrugged. He just accepted it as a cost of being part of the band. “I don’t know. My management company deals with the letters, but I can’t avoid the flowers being sent here. I just tell them another bouquet has arrived and they make a note.”
“I’m going to put a stop to that. Tessie235 needs to save her money and quit stalking you.” Quinn snapped a picture of the florist’s name, then he opened the box without asking Cade if it was okay.
“You do know the flowers were sent to me,” Cade pointed out.
Quinn grunted. “Does she normally send you black roses?”
Cade blinked. “No, that’s different. She usually sends me carnations because I once said that I liked red carnations.”
“I don’t think these are from Tessie 235. I think these are from your former Daddy.” He tilted the box to show Cade.
The roses were beautiful in an ‘I long for your death’ kind of way.
“If I were into goth, I would be thrilled to receive these,” Cade said coming over to study the flowers.
“Is there any connection between Strada and black roses?”
Cade shook his head. “Not that I know of. Is there a note?”
Quinn opened a small envelope and his expression turned grim. “I don’t think these are from Tessie.”
“What does it say?” Cade demanded. When Quinn hesitated, he said, “You can’t hide this from me. I’m an adult, Quinn, even if I like to be a boy. You have to tell me.”
Quinn read from the small card.
You will always be mine
“Succinct,” Cade said, aiming for flippant, but he knew his voice shook.
“What do you want me to do with the flowers?” Quinn said.
“I’m not giving these to Maria. Throw them in the trash,” Cade muttered.
Quinn did as Cade asked, but he slipped the small card into his pocket. “I need to talk to the security team.”
“Why?”
“I want to know why the delivery guy passed them so easily,” Quinn explained. “He shouldn’t have been able to approach the front door.”
“I can answer that one. There’s a gate around the side. Fans come to the front, so delivery drivers know to go to the side gate.”