After his beers, Quinn walked up to Selim Avenue, trying but failing to not look in the window of Rosita’s, then crossed the pedestrian bridge spanning Georgia that led to the B&O train station alongside the Metro tracks. At this time of night the gate leading to the tunnel that ran beneath the tracks was locked, so he stayed on the east side. As he often did, he stood there on the platform, admiring the colored lights of the businesses and the pale yellow haloing the street lamps of downtown Silver Spring. A freight train approached, raising dust as it passed, and he closed his eyes to feel the stir of the wind. When the sound of the train faded he opened his eyes and went back in the direction of his place.
He came up here to the tracks nearly every night. The platform reminded him of a western set, and he liked the solitude, and the view. A construction crew had been working on the station, probably converting it into a museum or something, a thing to be looked at but not used, another change in the name of redevelopment and gentrification. Of course, he didn’t know for sure what they were doing to the station, but recent history convinced him that it was something he would not like. In the last year Quinn’s breakfast house, the Tastee Diner, had been moved to a location off Georgia, and he rarely ate there anymore as it was out of his foot range. Also, with its new faux-deco sign out front, it now looked liked the Disney version of a diner. He wondered when the small pleasure of his nightly walk would be taken from him, too.
BACK at his apartment, Quinn checked his messages and returned a call from Strange, who had phoned from Janine’s place. Strange told him what he had learned from Eve.
“Sounds like you ought to go back to that girl Stella,” said Strange.
“I will,” said Quinn. “Thanks.”
Quinn was a little jealous that Strange had been able to get what he could not, but he was cognizant of his own limitations, and grateful that Strange had made the extra effort on his behalf.
After hanging up with Strange, he sat on his couch, rubbing his hands together, looking around at the spartan decor of his apartment, which was no decor at all. He was high from the beers and a little reckless from the high, and he felt as if his night was not done. He dragged his knapsack over to the couch, found Stella’s phone number, and then saw Worldwide Wilson’s number on Jennifer Marshall’s sheet. He reached for his phone and dialed the number Jennifer had scribbled down.
It was a pager number, as he knew it would be. Quinn left his home phone number, waited for the tone that told him the number had been received, and cut the line.
He stared at the phone in his hand, looked around the room, stared at the phone some more, then dialed Stella’s cell. She answered on the third ring.
“Hellooo. Officer Quinn?”
“You psychic or something?”
“Caller ID, duh.”
“I ought to get one of those ‘number unknown’ things.”
“Bet you’re too cheap to pay for the service, Quinn.”
“It always comes back to money for you.”
“Well, yeah.”
“Why’d you do it, Stella?”
“You musta talked to Eve.”
“I had the pleasure.”
“She bugged on you, huh?”
“I guess I ought to ask you another way. Why’d you send me to her? You could’ve put me onto somebody who didn’t know anything at all.”
“That’s true. But I wanted you to come back to me. I wanted to see how bad you wanted Jennifer, baby doll. And I can see that you do. I mean, you didn’t come looking to kick my ass or nothin’ like that. You’re callin’ me like a gentleman and you don’t sound angry. Are you angry at me, Quinn?”
“No,” he said, but it was a lie. “Can you deliver Jennifer?”
“I’d deliver my mother for a price. Shit, I’d give you my mother for free, everything she done to me.”
“What’s the price?”
“Five hundred will get you your girl.”
“How you gonna do that, Stella?”
“I got somethin’ of hers. Somethin’ I know she wants.”
“You stole from her?”
“Oh, my bad.”
“You’re a piece of work.”
“Always good to have a little somethin’ someone wants, information or merchandise, you know what I’m sayin’? Like I told you, it’s rough out here.”
“What about Worldwide?”
Quinn heard the snap of a match and the burn of a cigarette.
“What about him?” said Stella.
“You’re working for him. I don’t think he’d take too kindly to you setting up one of his girls to get taken off the street.”
“Course not. Worldwide is a bad motherfucker, for real. But he ain’t never gonna know, green eyes, ’less you thinkin’ on tellin’ him. You don’t have to worry about me, ’cause I have done this before. Made some large money on it, too. Parents pay more than ex-cops, but I take whatever’s there.”
“Always playing the middle.”
“When I can.”
“I won’t worry about you, Stella. But I do want this girl. So I’ll get you the money, with one condition. That you’ll be right there with me when I make the snatch. Because I don’t trust you, understand? I won’t get burned by you again.”
“Fair enough.”
“When can we set it up?”
“Soon as you want, lover.”
“I need to get my hands on the money and a van. How’s tomorrow night sound?”
“Sounds good.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow, hear?”
Quinn hit “end.” He phoned Sue Tracy and got her on her cell.
“Sue, it’s Terry.” He cleared his throat. “Quinn.”
“Hey, Terry.” There was a rasp to her voice, and he heard a long exhale before she said, “What’s up?”
“Listen, I got a strong line on Jennifer Marshall. But I’m gonna need a half a yard to buy the last piece of the puzzle.”
“I can get it.”
“Good. I think I might be able to make a grab tomorrow night.”
“We can do that.”
“We?”
“Well, one person generally can’t do this right, Terry. I’ll bring the van.”
“Okay, then. Okay.”
“Hold on a second.”
Quinn heard a rustling sound and waited for Tracy to get back on the line.
“Tell me where and when,” she said.
“You all right?”
“I’m in bed, Terry.”
“Oh.”
“I had to find paper and pen. Go ahead.”
“I don’t know yet. What I mean is, I’ll let you know.”
“You been out tonight?”
“Well, yeah.”
“You sound like you been drinking a little.”
“Just a little.”
“I bet you drink alone.”
“I don’t like to,” said Quinn.
“Tell you what. We get this girl tomorrow, I’m gonna buy you a beer. You don’t mind sitting next to a woman when you drink, do you?”
Quinn swallowed. “No.”
“Good work, Quinn.”
Quinn sat there for a while thinking of the velvet sandpaper in Sue Tracy’s voice, the sound of her long exhale, the way his stomach had kind of flipped when she’d said “I’m in bed.” How “Good work, Quinn” had sounded like “Fuck me, Terry” to him. Well, he was just a man, as stupid as any other. He looked down, saw his hand resting on the crotch of his jeans, and had to grin. He was too tired to jerk off, so he went to bed.
STRANGE sat on the edge of the bed, Janine’s strong thighs over his. She moved slowly up and down on his manhood, gyrating on the upstroke, that thing she did that made him feel twenty-one all over again. One of his hands grasped her ass and the other was flat on the sheets, and he pushed off, burying himself all the way inside her.
“You going for my backbone, sugar?”
“A man can try.”
She gave him her hips. “Shit, yeah.”
“C’mon, baby.”
“I am on the way.”
She kissed him deep, her eyes wide and alive. She kept them open when they kissed. He liked that.