[Quinn 02] - The Deceived

“Get in,” he said to the woman.

She looked at him for a second, then climbed across to the passenger seat.

“Don’t think about getting out and running, because I will catch you,” Quinn said.

The look on her face told him she understood.

It took him less than a minute to hot-wire the ignition. As the engine roared to life, he sat up and jammed the Bronco into drive.

“Who are you?” he asked again.

She hesitated, then said, “Tasha. Tasha...Laver.”

Quinn drove carefully, keeping his speed down so as not to draw unwanted attention. “What were you doing in that backyard?”

“I...I was looking for someone.”

“Really? Who?”

Ahead was a stop sign. Quinn slowed, then rolled through it when he saw the coast was clear.

“A friend. The house belongs to her. But...” She paused, then looked at Quinn. “Who are you? What were you doing there?”

Quinn said nothing.

“I know you weren’t with them, or you wouldn’t have been trying to get into the house.”

“Them?” he asked as he took the next right.

“The people in the house. That family. The others. I’ve never seen any of them before. And I’ve known Jenny for...” She stopped herself. “You haven’t told me who you are.”

“You’re right. I haven’t,” he said, beginning to feel he might be able to get a little more information out of the woman, but that it might not be worth the time.

Woodway Avenue was a couple blocks away. Quinn could see dozens of cars passing by on the busier road. Just before they reached it, he pulled the Bronco to the curb and turned to the woman. “One last time: what were you doing back there?”

She hesitated, then said, “I was looking for Jenny. Jenny Fuentes. That was her house, but I think you probably know that.” She paused. “You... called me Jenny when you were chasing me.”

“Why were you looking for her?” Again a pause. “She’s a friend. We’ve been friends for a long time.” “Good for you. But that still doesn’t tell me why.” The woman seemed to think for a moment, considering her words

before she spoke. “We kept in pretty good touch. Then a few weeks ago, it was like she disappeared. I called her work but they said she was on a leave of absence.” She looked at Quinn. “Jenny would let me know if something was wrong. She wouldn’t just go away without a word.”

“You’re that important to her?” “Important enough,” she said defensively. “How do you know her?” “Why do you need to know that? Who the hell are you? And why

are you looking for her?” “How do you know her?” he repeated, his voice impatient. Silence. “College,” she said, as if mad she had even opened her mouth.

“Same major. Your turn now.” Quinn wasn’t sure if her story was true or not, but she had given

him enough to check her out. “Get out,” he said. “What?” “Get out of the car. You can catch a ride here. Or call a taxi. I don’t

care.” “No.”

“Now,” he said.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me who you are and why you’re looking for Jenny.” Her tone was defiant, challenging.

Quinn stared at her for a moment. “Fine.”

He opened his door and started to climb out.

“Where are you going?”

He didn’t answer.

He walked back to the rented Lexus. The woman had followed him for a block, then stopped. As he glanced back over his shoulder, he could see her walking toward Woodway Avenue. Whether she was really a friend of Jenny’s or not, he wasn’t sure. But her fear had seemed genuine. Still, she was a loose end. Once he found a secure phone, he’d have Nate check her out.

When he reached the Lexus, he saw that the street up toward Jenny’s house was filled with police cars and fire trucks. Bright lights on portable poles were erected in the driveway, lighting up the smoldering house like a Monday night football game. Firemen were fighting what was left of the flames, while most of the cops worked crowd detail.

Quinn slipped quietly into his car. He kept his eyes forward as he started the engine, watchful in case anyone looked in his direction.

He waited a full minute before pulling away from the curb, lights off. He made a quick U-turn, then headed back toward Woodway Avenue.

If he’d been only mildly worried about Jenny before he came to Houston, he was now full-on concerned. And until proven otherwise, he had to assume that Markoff ’s death and the disappearance of his girlfriend were connected.