For starters, he couldn’t understand why a man with a woman like the strong and curvaceous Latina would still be bothering with his ex-wife. There was little doubt that Garcia would have lied to protect Quinn if she’d had any information, he but felt pretty certain Quinn hadn’t contacted her since the shooting. She had an ache of betrayal in her eyes that was hard to fake, but Bowen recognized Quinn’s recent lack of communications was his way of shielding her. Gunnery Sergeant Thibodaux had been tougher to read, answering most every question with another question. He was good natured and congenial enough but as impenetrable as a concrete wall. By the time Bowen pulled off the quiet, tree-lined residential street into Emiko Miyagi’s long circular driveway, he knew only that Quinn’s friends cared little about what aiding a wanted fugitive would do to their respective careers. They had all, no doubt, spilled blood together. Bowen could see it in their eyes. It was a look he knew all too well.
