He could hear the elevator door open, then steps as someone exited into the tiled hallway. Whether it was the security guard or not, the last thing Quinn wanted was for someone to see him.
He moved to the right down the corridor as quickly and quietly as he could. When he turned the corner, he saw a doorless opening near the end of the hall.
He reached it in seconds. The room beyond the threshold was unlit, but not totally dark. He could make out a trash chute and a couple of vending machines. With no time to make a more thorough evaluation, he squeezed between one of the machines and the wall. It wasn’t a perfect fit, but it was the best he could do.
For several minutes, there was nothing, then the footsteps on tile returned as the security guard neared the utility room. Quinn tensed, preparing himself for action.
Closer and closer, until they were right outside the door. There the steps stopped.
The beam of a flashlight darted into the room. It swept left, right, then left again. Just as quickly, it went out, and the steps began moving back down the hallway again.
Fifteen minutes later, Quinn and Nate met up on the path along the river. On his way out, Quinn had removed the petal he’d stuck over the camera lens in the sconce, leaving no trace that he’d been in the building.
“So what did you find?” Nate asked. “Trouble, I think,” Quinn said. “What kind?” It was a good question. Unfortunately, Quinn didn’t have an an
swer.
CHAPTER
THE NIGHT WAS A SHORT ONE. QUINN FELL INTO BED
just after 5 a.m. Three hours later, his eyes snapped open and his body tensed as someone shook him awake.
“It’s just me,” Orlando said. She was sitting on the edge of his bed, a somber look on her face.
“What is it?” he asked as he pushed himself up.
“I have something you’ll want to see,” she said.
“What?”
She stood up. “I’ve got it up on the computer.”
Quinn watched her walk out of the room, then sighed and pushed himself out of bed. He pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, then walked barefoot into the other room.
Orlando was sitting at the desk, her computer open in front of her. She was alone. Nate was undoubtedly still asleep in his room.
Quinn walked over to her. “Okay,” he said. “Show me.”
She turned the laptop and tilted the screen so he could see it. She had the browser open to a newspaper article from the
The article went on to describe the scene in a little more detail. There
were no witnesses, and no one heard anything.
“Is this the latest?” Quinn said.
“It’s the latest online,” Orlando told him. “But I made a few calls. He’s still alive, but that’s it. No one’s willing to make a guess if he’ll survive or not. I also found out it wasn’t a robbery. Nothing was taken from the house.”
“Robbers wouldn’t have beat him like that anyway,” Quinn said. “Killed him, or knocked him out. This was torture.”
She looked up at him. “Do you think it was the same people who are after Jenny?”
“I don’t know,” Quinn said.
There was another question she didn’t ask, but Quinn knew all too well. Had he been the one to lead them to Blackmoore?
Orlando was obviously reading his thoughts. “They could have come at him from all sorts of different ways. You weren’t the only one who knew Blackmoore’s connection to Markoff. He’d be a logical place for anyone to go.”
“Yeah,” Quinn said. But he couldn’t bring himself to believe that.
