“I should probably come back in the morning,” Dr. Han said. “We’ll call you first,” Quinn said. He wanted to stay flexible. “Whatever you’d like.” As the doctor headed for the door, Ne Win stood and started to
follow. “Call me as soon as you know,” Ne Win said to Quinn as he stood in the open door. “This is my island. I don’t like surprises like this.” As soon as Ne Win and Dr. Han had left, Orlando said, “What
was that all about?” “He’s going to help us.” “Help us what?” she asked. Quinn told her about his conversation with Ne Win. “So Markoff meant for you to be involved all along,” she said. “Looks that way.” “If he was alive right now, I’d kill him,” Orlando said. “Why?” Quinn asked. “He’s only been trying to help Jenny.”
She let out a soft, derisive snort. “Have you stopped to take a look at yourself lately? Have you seen what this has done to you? His death has consumed you.”
“Then why did you come with me?” he asked.
Anger flashed in her eyes, and she opened her mouth but stopped herself before any word escaped. After a moment, she said, “You know why. You’re just not letting yourself see it.”
He rubbed his hands over his face. “I’m sorry,” he said. Then, as if he was unsure if the words had actually escaped his lips, he said again, “I’m sorry.”
He felt her fingertips on his arm, moving slowly up and down, their very presence calming him. Then she moved to him, wrapping her arms around him and laying her head against his shoulder.
“I go anywhere you need me. It doesn’t matter why,” she said.
He placed his hands on her back and held her. For the first time he could remember, he was no longer alone.
They stood like that for several minutes, then finally Orlando leaned back.
“You should get some sleep,” she said.
“We both should,” he said.
She picked up the canvas bag with the data cassette player inside and carried it over to her computer on the table. “I need to get the tape going first. Make sure everything is running correctly.”
Once everything was connected, she turned on the computer, typed her password, then accessed a software application. Quinn wasn’t familiar with it, but it was easy to see it had something to do with audio.
“Since the tape is so damaged, I want to make sure we get it the first time. This will take a little longer than normal,” Orlando said. “But it’ll interpolate the damaged audio, then filter out any extraneous noise.”
“How long?” Quinn asked.
“No way to tell for sure. I don’t know how much is on this tape. But no more than ten hours. Should be done in the morning.” She yawned.
“Sleep time, I think,” Quinn said. “Which room do you want?” “Quinn,” she said. The look on her face wasn’t a happy one. “What?” “What the hell’s wrong with you?” She grabbed his hand and began pulling him toward the hallway.
CHAPTER
THE SUN WAS SHINING BRIGHTLY BEYOND THE WIN
dows of the bedroom when Quinn opened his eyes. His back ached, but that wasn’t surprising. He’d spent the night sleeping on the floor of the master bedroom so that he would be close if Jenny needed anything.
Orlando was beside him, tucked against his side, her head on his chest. It was nearly the identical position they’d been in when they’d fallen asleep hours before. They had been too exhausted to do anything more than hold each other.
He could hear Jenny breathing evenly on the bed. She had stirred only once during the night, but had not come fully awake—a bad dream, no doubt, probably heightened by Dr. Han’s pain medication.
Quinn tried to slip his arm out from under Orlando without waking her, but she stirred, then suddenly stretched. Her eyes opened just enough to look at him through her intertwined lashes.
“What time is it?” she whispered.
He looked at his watch. “Ten-forty,” he said, surprised. It was the longest night of sleep he’d had since Markoff had turned up dead.
He pushed himself up, then pulled on his jeans and a black polo shirt. “I’ll make coffee.”
The pot was almost done when he heard Orlando come down the hall. He waited until the coffee was finished, then filled two cups and carried them into the living room.
Orlando had changed clothes and had pulled her hair back into a ponytail. It looked like she’d run some water over her face, too. She looked refreshed and ready to go.
She was sitting at the table with her laptop open again. Quinn set one of the cups down beside the computer.
“Did it finish processing?” he said.
“Looks like it.”
“And?”
“Hold on,” she said.
The folder on the screen displayed a single file. She opened it.
