The Collected (A Jonathan Quinn Novel) Read online

  Orlando beat Quinn over the top by half a second, and grabbed the girl’s arm just before she ran back into the house. The girl tried to break free, then started to yell.

  “Leave me alone, you bitch! I know what you—”

  “I think you need to relax,” Quinn said, coming up fast on her other side, flashing his gun.

  The sight of the weapon had the desired effect. The girl’s jaw went slack as her eyes widened in fear.

  “Anyone else here?” he whispered.

  She continued to stare at the weapon.

  “Hey,” Quinn said. “Is anyone else inside?”

  She blinked, and shook her head.

  “Then why don’t we go in where it’s cooler?” he suggested.

  As he stepped toward her, she moved backward into the house. Once inside, Orlando closed the glass door and repositioned the curtain so no one could see in. “I’ll do a check.” She headed for the stairs.

  The doorbell rang again.

  “Have a seat,” Quinn told the girl.

  Not taking her eyes off him, she backed all the way to a black leather couch, and sat down.

  “Stay right there, and everything will be fine. Okay?”

  She nodded.

  Quinn went over and opened the front door.

  “Success, I see,” Kim said.

  “Appreciate the help.” He glanced back to make sure the girl hadn’t moved.

  “You need me for anything else?”

  “Nope. We’ve got it now. Thank you. If you want to wait, we can give you a ride back to your car.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Just do what you have to do. I can get back on my own. And Quinn, keep in touch. It’s been a while since we’ve worked together.”

  After they shook hands, Quinn closed the door and headed back to the living room.

  “Second floor’s clear,” Orlando said, descending the stairs.

  When she reached the bottom, she headed off to check the rest of the ground floor, but Quinn knew she wouldn’t find anyone. The girl had been too scared to lie about being alone. Wherever Burke was, it wasn’t here.

  “What’s your name?” Quinn asked, lowering himself into the matching leather chair next to the couch.

  Her jaw moved a few times as a few incoherent syllables stumbled out of her mouth.

  “Take a breath. It’s okay. You’re going to be fine. Come on, like this. In,” he said, breathing in deeply. “And out.” He pushed the air back out again. “Your turn. In.” Her intake was not quite as smooth as his. “And out.” The air moved out of her lungs in a mad rush. “Again, slower this time.” She tried again, her breathing better. After the third time, she was almost back in control. “Better?”

  A hesitant nod.

  “Good. What’s your name?”

  “Ellie,” she said, a tremor in her voice.

  “All right, Ellie. I just want to ask you a few questions. Nothing’s going to happen to you. I promise.”

  Her gaze flicked to his gun, then back to his face.

  “Here,” he said. He tucked the gun between his leg and the arm of the chair, where it was out of sight, but retrievable in a hurry if the need arose. “Better?”

  She chewed on her lower lip, and nodded once.

  “All clear,” Orlando said, walking back into the room.

  Ellie jumped at the sound.

  “Don’t worry,” Quinn said. “My friend’s not going to hurt you, either.”

  “How about some water?” Orlando suggested as she headed toward the kitchen. “I’m going to have some.”

  “Um, yeah. Okay,” Ellie said. “There are, um, cold bottles in the refrigerator. In the door.”

  “I’ll take one, too,” Quinn said.

  Quinn waited until Orlando returned. Once they had all taken drinks, he said, “Ellie, do you live here?”

  “Uh-huh,” the girl said. “Well, I mean, I have my own place, but I’m here a lot. When Doug’s home, anyway.”

  “Doug Burke?”

  “Yes.”

  “He owns this place?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “So where’s Doug now?”

  She looked frightened again. “I’m not sure. He said he was going to the store, but that was like two hours ago. I thought he’d be back by now.”

  Quinn tried hard to keep the disappointment from showing on his face. He had a bad feeling the man wouldn’t be coming back at all.

  “Was Doug upset about anything?” he asked.

  “He’s been a little keyed up since he got back, if that’s what you mean.”

  “And when was that?”

  “Yesterday. Hey, if you’re looking for him, I’m sure he’ll be back any minute. But whatever you think he’s done, you’re wrong. Doug’s not like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. Like someone you’d have to point a gun at.” She glanced at where he’d hidden the pistol. “He works for the United Nations. UNI-something. You know. The group that works with kids? He travels around all the time, doing what he can to help them. He’s a good guy.”

  Everyone in Quinn’s world had his or her own cover story. His was international banking. It seemed, though, that Burke had chosen something that would not only explain his absences, but also make him look like a hero at home. Quinn knew Orlando must be seething inside. Unlike Burke, she actually did a lot of work for those in need on her own time.

  “I have a question,” Orlando said, her voice remarkably calm.

  Ellie looked over.

  “I noticed the suitcases upstairs. Are you going on a trip?”

  The girl’s demeanor turned noticeably icy as she answered. “In the morning. We’re flying to Australia for two weeks.”

  “That sounds like fun. Sydney?”

  She nodded.

  Quinn picked up a picture from the end table. It was Ellie and a man he assumed was Burke on a deep-sea fishing boat. Both were smiling. “Another trip?”

  “Cabo,” she said. “A few months ago.”

  He set the photo back down. “What kind of car does Doug drive?”

  “Mustang. One of those new ones.”

  “Color?”

  “Silver gray.”

  CHAPTER 16

  IF THERE WAS one lesson Douglas Burke had taken to heart when he first started working ops, it was always be aware of your surroundings.

  He knew he wasn’t a great shooter, or strategist, or even spy. He was adequate, which was okay. For the two years he’d been in the business, his satisfactory skills had kept him employed enough to live a nice life when he was home in Tucson. Hell, he’d been able to buy a decent townhouse, had a cool car, and was even able to score a hot girlfriend.

  But he knew, given his shortcomings, if he wanted to survive, he needed to stay alert.

  He hadn’t lied to Ellie. He had fully intended on returning from the grocery store. Since they were planning to drive all the way to Los Angeles for their flight to Sydney, he wanted to pick up some snacks for the road. A ten-minute drive to the store, fifteen inside, ten minutes back.

  The detour in his plans happened as he drove through his townhome complex to his assigned parking spot. His route took him on the road that passed his place. It was just before he drove by that he saw the woman. Short and thin and brunette. If she’d been taller and had a bigger chest, she might have been his type, but that’s not why he noticed her. She was walking by his place and glancing up at it.

  On a normal day between jobs, it probably wouldn’t have registered as anything unusual. But this wasn’t a normal day. The events in Mexico were still fresh in his mind, and though he didn’t have a complete picture of what had gone down, he knew enough to be worried that it could turn into a problem for him.

  Hence the trip to Australia. Out of sight, out of mind.

  Instead of parking in his regular spot, he found one near the community pool, and snuck back on foot. Across the street from his place were two adjacent townhomes that were currently unoc
cupied. He hopped over the fence into the patio area of one, picked the lock, and went inside.

  Each of the townhomes had rooftop decks, one of the amenities that had helped him decide to buy here. He made his way through the empty townhouse and up onto the deck. Staying low, he moved to the front edge, then lay down and looked out at the street.

  His place looked unchanged. Ellie had left the curtains closed like he’d told her to, which wasn’t surprising. He’d scared her into thinking that a psycho ex-girlfriend of his was back in town and trying to find him. He had laced the tale with stories of trashed apartments and disabled cars and public rants. He knew Ellie would want no part of that.

  He scanned the street, but there was no sign of the woman he’d seen.

  Maybe he’d just overreacted. Just because she’d looked at his place didn’t mean she was trouble. Ten minutes passed with still no sign of her.

  Okay, I was overreacting, he thought, relieved.

  He pushed himself back to his feet, intending to head downstairs, but as he was turning to leave, he caught sight of someone standing near the end of the pathway that weaved through the homes about a quarter block from his place. From his position, he could only see a hand and partial profile, but it was enough to make him suspicious.

  Carefully, he worked his way down the row of townhomes until he reached the one on the corner above the unknown person. Lying down again, he inched out until he could look straight down.

  His stomach clenched.

  It was the woman.

  He watched her for a minute, then pulled back, suddenly afraid she would sense his gaze and look up. There was no question why she was there. The entire time he’d observed her, her eyes had been trained on his place.

  As far as he was concerned, there were only two people who could have sent her to look for him: Pullman, who’d want to know what the hell had gone wrong; or the man who’d called himself Mr. Blair. Of the two, it was Blair he worried about most.

  Though he’d done exactly what the man had asked—delivering the information about the cleaner’s plan—Burke now thought that Blair had only been playing him, and hadn’t actually intended for Burke to get away. Ironically, it was Quinn who had preserved his freedom, by buying time and ordering Burke to take off.

  I’m a loose end.

  Burke looked in the direction of his place. “Sorry, Ellie,” he whispered. “Gonna have to take this trip alone.”

  Four minutes later, he was back in his car, heading for the freeway.

  CHAPTER 17

  LOS ANGELES

  ANGER WAS AN emotion Daeng had learned to control during the time he’d spent as a monk at the temple in the Thai countryside. It would still occasionally rear up, but only in the most extreme situations. Years before, the crackdown in his mother’s homeland of Burma that saw many of his brother monks murdered had not only been one of those situations, but the one that had pushed him out of the saffron robes and into a life where he could have a more direct hand in dealing with the injustices being thrust upon the Burmese people.

  Now, being coaxed away from Los Angeles by lies so that he would not be in a position to help his friend was another. He let it simmer inside for the entire return trip from Bangkok, knowing it was best to let it run its course. It wasn’t until the plane began its descent into LAX that he finally allowed himself to close his eyes in his well-practiced ritual. In his mind, he pictured a box rotating just below his ribs. As it turned, it sucked in more and more of his anger, until finally the last wisps of it were gone. As he closed the box and stored it away, he could feel his body relax. Opening his eyes, he was calm again, his anger a memory now, but one he could grab on to and use to focus as needed.

  He waited until he cleared passport control before he called Quinn. No answer, just voice mail.

  “I’m here,” he said, leaving his message. “I’ll head over to your place and call you again when I get there.”

  He arranged for a rental car, then drove across town and up into the hills.

  Quinn had told him Liz would be at the house. Daeng had heard plenty about her from Nate, and had seen several pictures, but the two had never actually met. So, not wanting to walk in and scare her, he pushed the buzzer on the gate intercom.

  When she didn’t respond, he had no choice but to enter the code. He parked in front of the garage and knocked on the door. Still no answer. Apparently, she’d gone out, so he let himself in. It was good to be back at Quinn’s house. Nate had been letting him use the second guest room, so it was almost like coming home.

  “Hello?” he called, just in case she hadn’t heard him knock. “Liz? It’s Daeng. Nate and Quinn’s friend. Hello?”

  He was answered only by silence.

  He set his bag by the stairs so he could take it downstairs later, and went into the kitchen to start some coffee. The flight was a long one, and his internal clock was all screwed up from going back and forth.

  It wasn’t until he’d pulled a mug out of the cabinet that he noticed the piece of paper on the table. He went over and picked it up.

  __________

  “THIS IS WHAT I want you to do,” Quinn said to Ellie. “Take your suitcase and go home to your place.”

  She looked at him, the area between her eyebrows wrinkling. “But…he’s coming back. Our trip.”

  “Do you feel safe here?”

  She pulled back a few inches. “You’re going to hurt him, aren’t you?”

  “I never said that. I just need to ask him a few questions.”

  Her eyes suddenly lost focus as she tilted her face down. With a half laugh, she looked over at Orlando and shook her head. “I’m such an idiot. There wasn’t an ex-girlfriend.”

  “You thought I was his ex?” Orlando said.

  She frowned as she looked back up. “Never mind.” She stood up. “I’ll go. If you see him, tell him…Tell him if he wasn’t lying to me, he knows where to find me. And if he was…” She shook her head and said, “Screw it.”

  Once she’d retrieved her suitcase and left, Quinn pulled out his phone and took a picture of the photograph of Burke and Ellie on the boat. He asked Orlando, “You didn’t happen to see a ticket for their flight, didn’t you?”

  “If he printed them out, they’d probably be in his carry-on up in his room.”

  Quinn ran up the stairs, and returned a few moments later with several pieces of paper.

  “You think he’s stupid enough to still go?”

  “Let’s find out.”

  He led the way back to the car. Just as he was climbing in, his phone vibrated. He pulled it out and saw that he already had one missed call.

  “Hello?” he said.

  “It’s Daeng. I’m at your house.”

  “Oh, crap,” he said. “I forgot to tell Liz you were coming. Please tell her I’m—”

  “She’s gone.”

  Quinn had been about to start the car, but paused. “Gone?”

  “She left a note. It says, ‘Jake, I can’t stay here. Don’t call me unless you find him. I need to think about things. Liz.’”

  Quinn grimaced. It was just as he’d feared. She was going to get hurt all over again, and, ultimately, it would be his fault.

  “Snap a photo of it and message it to me, okay?” he said. He wanted to make sure it was her handwriting.

  “No problem,” Daeng told him. “I could go out and look for her if you want.”

  Quinn glanced at the tickets Burke had printed out. “No. It’s better if we just leave her alone. I actually have something else I need you to do. I’m going to send you a picture of a guy named Douglas Burke. He’s scheduled to fly out on Qantas for Australia tomorrow night, but I have a feeling he’s going to try to move up his reservation. Get back to LAX. If you see him, detain him. I don’t know if he’s driving in or flying, but he’ll have to go through the international terminal. We’ll get there as quickly as we can.”

  __________

  “GOOD AFTERNOON,” THE female attend
ant said as Daeng walked up to the Qantas Airlines check-in counter. “Passport, please.”

  “Actually, I’m not checking in,” he said, putting on his friendliest face.

  “Oh. Well, then, what can I do for you?”

  “I hope I’m not too late. I’m supposed to meet someone who is flying out today, and give him these papers.” He held up a manila envelope he’d picked up at an office supply store on the way to the airport and stuffed with several pieces of blank paper. Written on the outside was: DOUGLAS BURKE. “Is there any way for you to tell me if he’s already checked in or not?”

  “No problem. Name?”

  He set the envelope on the counter so she could see it. She typed in the name, then studied her screen.

  “Oh,” she said after a few seconds. “I see he changed his reservation to today.”

  “Yeah. He was supposed to leave tomorrow. That’s why I had to rush.”

  “Well, he hasn’t checked in yet, but his flight doesn’t leave for another five hours, so you have plenty of time.”

  Daeng put on his best look of relief. “Thank God. I was told the plane was leaving at seven p.m.”

  She smiled. “No. Just after ten.”

  “That’s good. Well, except now I have to sit around and wait.” He grinned and shrugged.

  “Better than missing him, though, right?”

  “That’s true,” he said, picking up the envelope. “Thanks.”

  At the back of the Tom Bradley International terminal was a balcony level with several restaurants that overlooked the check-in area. Daeng went up, bought a bowl of chicken udon soup from the Japanese place, and took a seat at the front edge of the balcony, with a view of the Qantas counter.

  For the first hour, it saw very little action. Then, just a little after six p.m., traffic started to pick up. First the line was a constant half dozen, then a dozen. By seven p.m. it had almost doubled again, and new staff had come on to direct people to the different stations as they opened up.

  He still hadn’t seen Burke.

  At a quarter after seven, Quinn called.

  “We just landed,” he said. “Any news?”