Quinn started to say something, but stopped. They were in the middle of a busy sidewalk, having a conversation anyone could hear. He looked out at the street. Several cabs were heading in their direction. He waved one down.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
He answered by putting a hand on her upper arm, squeezing tight, then pulling her toward the cab with him.
“FDR Memorial,” he said once both he and Tasha were in the back seat.
Tasha gave him a bewildered look, but said nothing, obviously getting the message that this wasn’t the time for conversation.
In the late afternoon traffic, the ride to the Franklin Delano Roosevelt Memorial took nearly twenty minutes. When they arrived, Quinn paid the driver, then pushed Tasha out the door.
“What are we doing here?” she asked.
He squeezed her arm again, letting her know it wasn’t time yet, then led her into the memorial.
Unlike most of the other monuments in D.C., the FDR was low-lying and sprawling. Statues and red granite walls and waterfalls weaved in and out of the memorial, creating distinct areas that represented different eras of the Roosevelt administration. To most people, it was probably beautiful and inspiring. To Quinn it was useful.
He led her past the life-size images of FDR and quotes etched in granite until they reached the very end of the monument. There they found the last and the largest of the waterfalls. Rivers of water cascaded down from the top of the wall onto granite blocks, creating a hypnotic and, more importantly, loud display. Quinn moved in as close as he could.
“Why did you bring me here?” Tasha asked, raising her voice to fight the crashing of the waterfall.
He leaned into her so he wouldn’t have to yell, too. “Are you wearing a wire?”
“What?”
“A bug. A transmitter. Are you wearing one?”
“No. Why would I do that?”
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and accessed the camera function. He selected the heat-sensing mode, then began scanning Tasha up and down.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Turn around,” he said. When she didn’t move right away, he added, “Now.”
While the phone was multifunctional, a built-in bug detector was not one of its options. Still, using the heat- sensing mode, he’d be able to identify any energy sources that might be powering a transmitter. Nothing on her body, but he did get a hit from her purse.
“Open it up,” he said, pointing to the bag.
As soon as she did, he stuck his hand in and started feeling around.
“Hey,” she said. “Those are my things.”
He pulled out a cell phone, then scanned the bag again. The heat source was gone. As he suspected, it was her cell.
He slipped his own phone back in his pocket, then spent several seconds examining Tasha’s. It looked all right. Cheap. One of those models cell phone companies gave away to increase sales. He popped open the cover and did a quick check for anything that shouldn’t have been there. It was clean as far as he could tell. But to be safe, he popped out the battery, then put the cover back on. He put the phone and the battery into the back pocket of his pants.
“That’s mine,” she said.
“Why are you following me?” he asked.
She glared at him. “Give me back my phone.”
“We’ll see. Answer my question first.”
She was silent for several moments. “What’s your name?” she asked.
“None of your business. Why were you following me?”
“You know mine,” she said.
“Do I?” he said.
“I just told you. I’m Tasha Douglas.”
“And last time you told me you were Tasha Laver.”
“I’m not lying now.”
“There’s no way I’m going to believe that until I check it out.”
“Okay,” she said. “I understand. Can you at least give me something I can call you?”
His eyes narrowed. “Jonathan.”
“Jonathan,” she repeated.
“Tell me why you’re following me,” Quinn said.
“I haven’t been following you.”
