Twice. Three times. Four. Five.
but the line was live. “Jenny?” Another breath. “Jenny. It’s Quinn.” “What happened?” Though the voice was low and rushed, Quinn
knew it was her. “I didn’t get your message until too late,” Quinn said. “The call time you wanted already passed by then.”
“No...Steven. What happened?” Her voice was managed, not quite calm, not quite out of control. It was almost as if she was accusing Quinn of killing her boyfriend.
“I don’t know exactly. He was...he was dead before I even knew
he was in trouble.” “What do you mean?” Quinn glanced at Orlando and Nate. They were huddled around
the small hotel room desk, monitoring the call on the computer.
“A week ago, I was hired to do a job,” Quinn said. He then told her about being shocked that the body he’d been asked to dispose of belonged to his old friend. He didn’t fill in all the details, but it was enough, he hoped, to convince her he was telling the truth.
There was a long silence when he was through. “Whoever sent you the body must have killed him,” she said.
“Who was it?” “I don’t know,” he said. “Bullshit.” “Jenny, I don’t know. It was an anonymous client. It’s how it goes
in this business.” He could have given her Albina’s name, but he was only the middleman and had nothing to do with it.
She was silent for several seconds, then said in a trembling voice, “I knew it. When he didn’t come back I knew something was wrong. I just thought...I hoped...Oh, God.”
She could no longer hold it back. Quinn heard a loud sob, then the muffled noise of the phone moving away from her face so she could endure her agony without a witness.
It was half a minute before she came back. When she spoke, her
composure had returned. “Are you really in Singapore?” “Yes.” “What are you doing there?” “Trying to help you.” “But I’m not in Singapore,” she said. Quinn looked at Orlando. Silently she mouthed, “She’s still in KL.” “No, but Kuala Lumpur isn’t far away,” he said into the phone. “You know where I am.” “It’s okay. We’re the only ones who know.” “What do you mean
“There are two others with me,” he said. “Friends I trust and work with all the time. They’re okay.”
“If you know I’m in Kuala Lumpur,” she said, her words sounding more guarded than they had before, “then what are you doing in Singapore?”
“We’re in Singapore because Markoff sent us here.” “What do you mean?” she blurted out. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “Look, I’m going to come get you. I’ll
take the first flight in the morning. It won’t take long. We’ll get you out of there and to someplace safe.” The flight between Singapore and Kuala Lumpur was measured in minutes, not hours.
There was dead air for a moment. “No. I’ll come to you.” “That’s not such a good idea,” Quinn said. “Your boss is flying
into town. It would be best if you weren’t here.” “Do you know when he arrives?” Quinn shot a glance at Orlando. She whispered, “Tomorrow, around midnight.” “Tomorrow,” Quinn repeated for Jenny. “Late.” “I’ll send you another message when I get there,” Jenny said. Quinn’s grip on the phone tightened. “No. Stay where you are. It’s
not safe here.” But he was only talking to himself. The line had already gone dead.
“Kuala Lumpur,” Orlando said. “But she’s moving around the city.” The tracking software was still up on her computer, and the blue dot blinked above Merdeka Square in the Malaysian capital.
“I should have pushed her harder to stay there and wait for us,” Quinn said. He was near the couch, not quite pacing, not quite standing still.
“How much harder could you have pushed?” Nate asked. “She seemed anxious to come here,” Orlando said. “This is the worst place she can be. If Guerrero is here, his men
will be here, too.” Quinn came around the end of the sofa. “When she gets here, we need to find her and get her someplace safe. If Guerrero’s men even think she is in the area, they’ll hunt her down.”
“I’ll keep the tracking software open,” Orlando said. “If she turns her phone on, I’ll know it within seconds.”
“Good,” Quinn said. “Keep the bulletin board open, too, in case she sends a message. Tomorrow I’ll arrange for a place we can take her.”
“Why not here?” Nate asked.
“Too public,” Orlando said.
“Sounds like we’re going to have a busy day tomorrow,” Nate said. He pushed himself up out of his chair at the desk. “I’m going to turn in. See you guys in the morning.”
“Wait,” Quinn said. “We still have something to do.”
“It’s after midnight,” Nate said. “Isn’t it something that can wait until morning?”
Quinn’s only answer was a silent stare.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Orlando said to Quinn. “But it’s not a good idea.”
Quinn turned to her. “I don’t think we have a choice. Markoff died trying to tell us about it.”
