facility: one, patients had to come with a recommendation from someone the facility had previously cleared, and two, because their services were anything but cheap, they had to have the ability to pay.
Quinn had long ago been cleared after a recommendation from Peter. In turn, he had later secured access for both Orlando and Nate just in case.
Quinn’s guide led him to an open elevator, then pressed the button marked B2.
“How is she?” Quinn asked.
“You’ll have to ask the doctor,” the man said.
The car stopped one level up, but the doors didn’t open.
The man looked up at a security camera mounted in the corner of the car. Quinn did the same. A second later there was a ding followed by the door sliding open.
“Welcome to Lundgren,” the man said as he let Quinn pass through first.
He led Quinn down several more corridors before stopping in front of a door marked 403.
“She’s inside,” the man said, then walked away.
What Quinn found beyond the door was better than he hoped.
Nate was sitting in a chair near the bed, his eyes glued to the TV mounted on the opposite wall. On the screen was an overhead image of LACMA and the La Brea Tar Pits.
“We made it on TV again,” Nate said when he noticed Quinn. “And by ‘us,’ I mean you.”
“You really know how to keep a low profile,” Orlando said. She was propped up in the bed. A large bandage covered her neck and shoulder, but she was smiling, so that was a good sign. “This isn’t going to do us much good at getting future work.”
“Well, maybe if you hadn’t let yourself get shot, things would have gone smoother,” Quinn said as he stepped over to the bed.
“Now it’s
Quinn shrugged. “You set the tone.”
They stared at each other for a moment. Then Orlando started to laugh, but stopped suddenly, wincing in pain.
“So humor’s not exactly a good idea?” Quinn asked.
“Not at the moment,” she said, her voice tight with pain. “Are you okay?”
“Me?” he asked. “I’m fine. You’re the one in the bed.”
“I mean the meeting, with Primus. Nate said you were with him when he called.”
“Yeah,” Quinn said.
He glanced at the TV. Orlando followed his gaze.
“What are they saying happened?” Quinn asked Nate.
“Some lunatic with a gun,” Nate said. “Two people injured.”
“Two?”
“A woman on the street, and a guard inside one of the buildings.”
Quinn nodded. The security officer probably got in the way of the assassin’s route to the roof.
“The woman’s doing okay, but the guard’s in critical.”
“They catch the gunman?” Quinn asked.
“Nope, unless they’re not saying.”
Quinn turned back to Orlando. “How you doing?”
“I’m fine.”
Quinn raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“I’m fine,” she said.
Quinn turned to Nate. “What did the doctor say?”
Nate tore his gaze from the TV. “That she was lucky it didn’t shatter her spine.”
“So what got hit?” Quinn asked.
“Muscle mainly.”
“You said the doctor wants to keep her overnight?”
“Hold on,” Orlando said. “I’m not staying. You’re taking me to your place.”
“She said the same thing to the doctor,” Nate said.
“I mean it. I’m not staying.”
“I think it might be better,” Quinn said.
“I know how to take care of myself,” she said. “I’ve gotten hurt a lot worse and not seen anyone. Get me some pain pills and antibiotics and I’ll be fine.”
Quinn looked down at the floor. Sleeping here or sleeping at his place wasn’t going to make that much difference. If there were any problems, he could get her back here fast enough.
He was about to say as much, when she said, “Quinn, goddammit, I’m not staying here.”
“Okay,” he said.
“I’m serious.”
“I know you are. I said okay.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Okay you’re going to get me out? Or okay you’re listening but you’re not going to do anything?”
“Okay I’ll take you home.”
She stared at him a moment longer like she wasn’t sure she should believe him or not. After several seconds she said, “Tell us about the meeting.”
Quinn hesitated. It was possible there was no bug in the room; in fact, Quinn thought that very likely. The facility was supposed to be neutral ground, a safe house where no one asked what your business was. If word ever got out that that trust was compromised, then business would disappear. Worse, really. Someone would eventually show up to deal with the double-cross. Still, Quinn wasn’t interested in taking the chance.
“Not here,” he said.
“Then get me the hell out.”
Before leaving the medical center, they made arrangements with the head of security to dump the stolen car someplace it wouldn’t be found for a few days. By the time they headed back to Quinn’s place in his BMW, the sun was starting to set.
On the drive, Quinn told Orlando and Nate about his meeting with Hardwick. There was one thing he did leave out, though. It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, his thinking that given Orlando’s current condition, she didn’t need any more stress. She could learn about Leo Tucker’s involvement later.
“Yellowhammer?” Orlando said. Her voice was low and sleepy.
“That’s what he said.”
“He didn’t tell you where it was?”
“Here in California somewhere. Said we should be able to find it easy enough.”
“Does the name mean anything to you?”
Quinn shook his head. “You?”
“No.” She paused.
There was a momentary lull.
“I’ll check it out when we get to your place,” Orlando said.
Quinn gave her a quick sideways glance. She was leaning against the passenger door, her eyes half- closed.
“Nate can do it,” Quinn said. “You’re going to bed.”
“That’s sweet, Quinn. But I don’t think I’m going to be in the mood.” Even in her near-semiconscious state, she was able to crack a smile.
“Oh, God,” Nate said. “My ears. I didn’t really need to hear that.”
Quinn’s house was built against one of the many slopes of the Hollywood Hills. The top floor was at street level and contained the living room, dining room, and kitchen in an open format that made it feel almost like one room. The floor below, following the incline of the hill, contained the bedrooms and a gym.
As soon as he got Orlando settled in the master bedroom, he returned upstairs. Nate sat at the kitchen table
