Of course he did. He and Orlando had gone down together. Durrie had said he was unavailable. Because of the need to keep a low profile, Quinn and Orlando had shared a room. When Durrie found out, he didn't yell or demand that they take separate rooms; he simply withdrew.
'When I got home, he accused you and me of sleeping together,' she said. 'It took me a week to convince him that nothing happened. Eventually he even apologized, saying he knew I would never do that to him.'
'Why did you stay with him?' Quinn asked, the words escaping his mouth before he even realized it.
She looked at him. Her eyes were drawn and tired, the memories pulling at her. 'I'd been with him almost five years at that point. I wasn't going to just leave him. He needed me.'
'Sorry,' Quinn said. 'I didn't mean anything by it.'
There was quiet for several moments.
When Orlando finally looked up at him, she said, 'I wanted to blame you. I wanted to hate you. For a while I did. When you came to see me in San Francisco, you were lucky I didn't kill you.'
'What changed?'
She eyed him for a moment. 'Time.' She paused. 'I knew what he was like there at the end. I just didn't want to believe it. Don't misunderstand me. I'm still pissed off. At you. But also at me. And most of all at him. I wonder sometimes if he'd lived long enough to know about Garrett, if that might have changed him. You know, given him something to hold on to.'
'I'm sorry,' Quinn said.
'So am I.'
'So you'll help me then?'
She let out a short, derisive laugh, but when she looked at him, there was just the hint of a playful smirk on her face. 'You paying me for this?'
Quinn laughed. 'No.'
The smirk grew wider, then quickly disappeared. 'What do you need?'
Quinn sighed inwardly. For a second there it was almost like the old Orlando was back.
'I need to know what Gibson's been up to,' he said. 'Who he's been working for. What jobs he's done lately. See if there is anything that can tie him to Taggert somehow.'
'Okay, but he was probably just a one-time hire,' Orlando said. 'That's the kind of thing Gibson loves to do.' She paused, then corrected herself.
'Check anyway. All right?'
She looked away for a moment before answering. 'I can do that,' she finally said.
As they were getting up to leave, Nate said, 'Ann's offered to give me a tour of the city.' 'Is that right?' Quinn said, not sounding surprised. 'When is this supposed to happen?'
'Eh . . . now, if you think it's okay.'
'Do you think it's okay?'
'Quinn, let him go,' Orlando said.
Quinn chose to ignore her. 'You remember the rule of attachments,' Quinn said to his apprentice.
'Don't have any,' Nate said.
'Close enough.'
'I won't forget.'
Quinn gave him a single, terse nod.
'Thanks,' Nate said. He gave them both a smile, then headed over to the bar, where Anh was waiting.
'He'll be fine,' Orlando said as she and Quinn left the restaurant. 'Quit acting like his dad.'
'He's my responsibility right now.'
'You know who you're starting to sound like?' she asked.
He knew exactly who she meant. Durrie.
'Go to hell.'
As they climbed into a taxi for the ride back to the Rex, Orlando said, 'Do you mind if we make a stop first?'
'No problem,' Quinn said.
She gave directions to the taxi driver and soon they were on their way. After ten minutes, they pulled up to the curb in front of a large pagoda. Orlando paid the driver, and they got out.
'A temple?' Quinn asked. Orlando simply nodded, then led the way up the steps and inside.
The central room was vast, lit mainly by sunlight entering through the large, open doors that surrounded most of the building. But once inside, the light was quickly diffused by a layer of smoke that hung in the air. Quinn couldn't immediately see the source, but he could smell it. Incense. Spicy and sweet. The aroma inviting him in, relaxing him, soothing him.
Orlando led him toward the altar in the center of the room. It was at least twenty feet across, and nearly the
