woman.
Blondie eased out from the stairs again, then started walking down the path. Quinn had him, a ten-foot gimme shot straight into the man’s heart. But he couldn’t pull the trigger. The civilians were too close. If he didn’t kill the man with the first shot, there was a good chance the couple could get caught in the middle of a gunfight.
As his target disappeared down the path, Quinn could only watch, hoping he hadn’t just made a fatal mistake.
CHAPTER
“WHERE ARE YOU?” QUINN ASKED. HE’D WORKED HIS
way first west, then north back to Boat Quay, until he felt safe enough to make a call.
“I’m on the corner of Church Street and...” Orlando paused. “Phillip.”
That was only a few blocks from where he was.
“You guys stay where you are and I’ll be right there.” He turned and started walking away from the river.
Another pause. “I’m alone.”
Quinn stopped. “What?”
“Jenny’s not with me.”
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know.”
“She
“Goddamn it, I know she was with me. But the only way I could have kept her here is if I’d shot her in the leg. I didn’t think you wanted me to do that.”
“Wait there,” Quinn said.
He hung up and flagged down a passing taxi. The ride was short, but it saved him a few minutes.
He saw Orlando as he got out of the cab. She was on the opposite corner, standing away from the street, just out of the light. He waited for a break in traffic, then jogged across the road to join her.
“Please don’t yell at me,” she said. “It’s not my fault.”
Of course her nerves were as much on edge as his were. He should have known that. He took a moment to refocus, allowing the calm that usually guided him to reassert itself.
“I believe you,” he said. “How did they know she was going to be there?” she asked. “I don’t know,” he said. “That was really screwed up.” “If you hadn’t seen them, who knows what would have gone
down.” “Nice work with the gunshot,” she said. “It certainly confused things. That was you, right?” “Yeah.” He gave her a knowing smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone use a durian in a fight before.”
“If you’d have just shot him, I wouldn’t have had to throw it.” She looked down at the palm of her right hand. There was a red spot near the base of her index finger. “The damn thing pricked me.”
“Orlando, where’s Jenny? What happened?” She continued to rub her palm as her mouth tensed. “I’m sorry.” “Did they get her?” Quinn asked. She shook her head.
caught a taxi. I was going to take her back to the apartment, but she didn’t want to go.” A breath, then, “She suddenly told the cab driver to pull over. As soon as he did, she jumped out. I followed her as quickly as I could. When I reached her, I grabbed her arm and stopped her. I told her we were there to help.”
“What did she say?”
“That nobody could help her. People died when they tried to help her. I told her we could get her out of the country and take her someplace safe. But she didn’t want that, either. Said she had to stop them.”
“Stop who?”
“I asked, but that’s all she said.”
Quinn felt exhausted, the combination of the adrenaline wearing off and Jenny’s rejection.
It must have shown in his face, because Orlando said, “I did get one thing out of her.”
“What?”
“She’ll talk to you one more time. I told her she owed you that much.”
“When?” he asked.
She looked at her watch. “In one hour.”
He tried to smile, but failed. “That’s something. Thanks. Let’s go back to the apartment. I can call her from there.”
“No,” Orlando said. “Not on the phone. In person.”
At 11 p.m., Quinn stood at the corner of Upper Pickering Street and South Bridge Road. He was there less than ninety seconds before a taxi pulled up. Quinn leaned down expecting to see Jenny in the back seat, but the only one inside was the driver.
