Emerging from the service walkway, he found himself at the back end of the motel parking lot. Holding his gun at his side, he walked around the short end of the building to the sidewalk that ran in front of the first-floor rooms.
Room 18 was three doors down from where he stood. Quinn did a quick check of the cars parked nearby. They were all empty. He could hear TVs in several of the rooms, but outside he was alone.
He walked down the sidewalk slowly, trying to look like someone heading to his room. The TVs were on in both rooms 20 and 19, but the drapes on the windows were closed.
He raised his gun as he neared the entrance to room 18, stopping just short of the open door. He listened for a moment, but all was silent. Slowly he eased himself around the jamb and looked in.
The room was dark, lit only by whatever passed through the doorway from the parking lot. Still, it was more than enough for Quinn to see inside.
The room was deserted, but someone had definitely been there and had done nothing to hide their visit.
They had tossed the room. Not a robbery, though. The TV was still there, as were the phone and the clock radio. But the bed had been stripped and the mattress pushed haphazardly against the wall. There was a suitcase on the ground near the door. It was empty, its sides sliced open. Its contents were scattered all around the room. Clothes, mostly. Women’s.
Just like he’d seen at Jenny’s house in Houston, it looked like someone had been searching for something. But whoever had done it was gone.
Quinn lowered the SIG and kept walking down the path. There was no need to go inside. He wasn’t investigating a crime. Knowing what had happened in the room was enough.
As he returned to the car, he carefully checked to make sure he wasn’t being followed or watched.
“Well?” Tasha asked once he had climbed into the sedan and closed the door. “Did you go inside?”
Quinn started the engine and pulled away from the curb. “You can’t go back there.”
“But my suitcase...my clothes.”
“You can replace them.”
“What happened?”
“Did Jenny give you something?” he asked. “Something other people would be looking for?”
Tasha shook her head. “No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Nothing.”
“Do you know if she had anything that would force her to hide?”
“Is that what this is about? She has something they want?”
“Do you know if she has something she shouldn’t have?”
Again, she shook her head. “I have no idea.”
Quinn turned the car left onto the road that would take them back to the interstate.
“Where are we going?”
“You need to get someplace safe. Do you have any friends nearby? Relatives?”
“Here? I don’t know anyone but Jenny.”
He knew he should just stick to his plan and let her fend for herself. But someone was directly after her now, and if she really was Jenny’s friend, he couldn’t bring himself to abandon her. Markoff was already dead. Jenny might be, also. He didn’t need to add Tasha’s death on top of that.
“I’ll find you someplace safe,” he said. “In a few days, maybe a week, you can go home.”
“Hide out?” she said, as if the words were foreign to her.
“They were in your room, Tasha. They know who you are. You have to lay low.”
“What about Jenny?” she asked.
“Let me worry about Jenny.”
He could feel her looking over at him, but he kept his eyes on the road.
“Okay,” she said.
“Okay, you’ve heard what I’ve said, but you’re still going to look for her? Or okay, you’ll let me do it?”
She hesitated. “Okay, I’ll let you do it.” Now that they knew who she was, she was scared. He could hear it in her voice.
“Good.”
He’d take her back to his hotel and figure out what to do with her then. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, accessing Nate’s message again.
First, they had a stop to make.
Derek Blackmoore lived nearly an hour south of the District on the outskirts of Fredericksburg, Virginia. It was a neighborhood of scattered houses built among the trees of the receding forest.
It wouldn’t be long before the majority of the trees were gone as the bedroom community of Fredericksburg
