[Quinn 04] - The Silenced

place here.”

He glanced around the apartment. “Hey, no worries. I’m sure I’ll find something.”

Again, she seemed to hesitate. “Look,” she said. “If you can’t find anything you like, you can … uh … stay here.”

“Liz, you don’t have to offer that.” It was Quinn. He’d entered the living room without either of them hearing him come in. In an instant, Liz’s face tensed again.

“He’s right,” Nate said. “I really appreciate it, but I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Besides, you don’t even know him,” Quinn said.

“I don’t know a lot of people in my apartment right now, Jake.” That shut everyone up.

Nate stood. “I think maybe I should leave. Find someplace to stay.”

“You’ve got a place to stay,” Liz said. “That is if you don’t mind sleeping on the couch.”

Nate glanced back and forth between her and Quinn, like he was caught in the middle of a situation he didn’t know how to read.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“I’m not sure,” Quinn said. “I think it’s a bad idea.”

“Are you saying you don’t trust him?” Liz asked.

“No, it’s not that. I just don’t think you should let someone you don’t know stay with you.”

“I think I can make my own decisions,” she said. She looked at Nate. “And I would be more than happy to have you stay here. Let me get you the spare key.”

She walked out of the room. As soon as she was gone, Nate caught Quinn’s eye.

“Don’t screw it up,” Quinn mouthed.

JULIEN WAS SITTING AT A TABLE ACROSS FROM the bar inside Shywawa when Quinn arrived. There was an almost-empty glass of beer in front of the Frenchman, so Quinn ordered two more before taking a seat.

“Merci,” Julien said as Quinn handed him one of the glasses. Julien finished off the dregs of his first beer, then took a healthy swig of the new one. When he was finished, he asked, “So where is your partner?”

“Getting settled in his temporary home.”

“You convinced her?”

Quinn lifted his glass and looked over the rim at his friend. “I didn’t. Nate did.”

“He is good, this partner of yours.”

Quinn smiled. “He’s not bad.” He took a drink. “Did you talk to your client?”

Julien nodded, serious now. “I told them she wasn’t home. And, like you predicted, they want me to keep an eye out in case she comes back.”

“You took the job, of course.”

“Of course. Only they wanted something else, too.”

“What?” Quinn asked.

“They wanted me to keep an eye out for you.”

Quinn leaned back. “What, exactly, did they say?”

“They said there’s an operative named Jonathan Quinn who might show up. I was to let them know if you did. When they asked if I knew you, I told them I had heard your name before, but had never met you. They emailed me a picture.”

Julien stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. He pressed a few buttons, waited a moment, then turned the screen so Quinn could see.

The fact that it was a picture of Quinn wasn’t the disturbing part. He’d expected that. What unnerved him was where and when the picture had been taken. It was from the lobby of the Grand Hyatt in New York the previous day. And from the angle, Quinn knew it could have only been shot by one person—Annabel Taplin.

“Son of a bitch,” Quinn said under his breath. “I have to go to London. Tonight.”

“Why London?”

“This picture. It was taken by someone we identified as MI6. If they’re the ones who hired you, then they have my answers. If I can neutralize the cause, then the problem will go away.”

“What do you need me to do?” Julien asked.

“Exactly what we talked about. You keep the perimeter watch on my sister. Nate will handle the inside. I’ll text him to let him know I have to leave. But I’m counting on the two of you to keep her safe.”

“D’accord,” Julien said. “What should I tell my client in the morning?”