[Quinn 02] - The Deceived

She headed toward the back door, opened it, and stepped outside. Quinn followed.

The door let out onto a short flight of steps that led down to a tiny backyard, perhaps twenty feet wide by fifteen deep. They descended the steps, and Orlando sat in one of two ratty-looking lawn chairs in the middle of the yard.

“Are you sure those things won’t break?” Quinn asked as he

stepped onto the grass. “Not the one I’m in,” she said. He handed Orlando the bottle opener, then carefully lowered his

weight into the empty chair, ready to jump up if it seemed like it was

about to collapse. The chair held. Orlando popped off the caps, then handed him one of the bottles. “Skoal,” he said, holding out his bottle. She smiled, then tapped her bottle against his. Without another

word, they both took deep drinks. “They must have figured out who I was, and followed me out here from D.C.,” Quinn said. “Then what?” Orlando asked. “Tracked you down at the Marriott,

then followed you to the restaurant?” He shrugged. “How else?” She didn’t look convinced, but it was the only thing that made sense. “If that’s true, they could have followed you here earlier today,” she

said. He shook his head. “I don’t think so. Someone would have been waiting here for us if they had.”

She took another sip of her beer. “This is the first time they’ve actively come after you, right? Until now, they’ve only been reacting to your presence.”

She was right. At the house in Houston, at the gallery in D.C., it had been Quinn who’d made the initial contact. “They must think I know something,” he said. “Probably some

thing to do with whatever it is they’ve been looking for.” “Or maybe they just think you know where Jenny is.” “That could be it, too.” They were silent for a few minutes. “So what now?” she asked. He took another drink, then said, “We call Jenny in the morning.” “And then?” This time his pause was even longer. Finally, instead of saying any

thing, he merely shrugged his shoulders. And then I’ll do whatever Jenny needs me to do, he thought, but didn’t say.

They sat in silence for another ten minutes finishing their beers, then Orlando pushed herself up and stepped over to him. Moving in close, she kissed him on the cheek.

“What’s that for?” he asked. “For you.” He looked at her, not sure what she meant. She smiled, then said, “You’re being a good friend. Markoff would

appreciate it. You just need to relax a little. Don’t let this one wind you up.” The hand she had set on his shoulder lifted as she turned and

walked back up to the house. He knew she was right. The whole thing was making him tense. But he also knew what Markoff had told him so many years before

was right, too. What Quinn did wasn’t relaxing. It was waiting. And

that was exactly what he was still doing. Waiting. For Jenny. For justice for Markoff. And though he didn’t want to admit it, for Orlando.

CHAPTER

QUINN ROSE BEFORE DAWN. HE DRESSED QUIETLY,

then slipped out of the house and through the backyard. For the next two hours, he checked the streets within a four-block radius of Aunt Jay’s house, making sure that no one was lying in wait. He kept a low profile, staying in the shadows and pausing for long periods just to watch. By seven-thirty, he was as sure as he ever was going to be that the house wasn’t being watched.

He stopped at the same market he and Orlando had gone to the day before and picked up some coffees and several muffins. When he returned, he found Orlando in the kitchen.

“Read my mind,” she said as he handed her a cup of coffee. “Aunt Jay only kept instant. I forgot to go out and get anything else.”

Quinn set the bag of muffins on the counter. When he turned back, he noticed Orlando’s eyes growing moist.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have never dragged you into this. You’ve got your own things to deal with. Nate and I will get out of here. Let you do what you have to do.”

She scowled at him. “Like I really want to sit here and sulk with all my aunt’s in-laws. You will not do that to me.”

“I’m sure you have a lot to take care of.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing? Just sitting around watching her die?”

Quinn was silent for a moment. “But we’re in your way here.”

“Are you not hearing me?” she asked. “Just drop it. All right?”

“Okay,” Quinn said. He held up his hands and smiled. “I get the message.”

“Good,” she said. She walked over and grabbed a blueberry muffin out of the bag. “Now stay out of my way while I get things ready.”

Nate strolled in as she was finishing up. Quinn glanced at his watch. It was 8:55.

“Thanks for joining us,” he said.