“The hunter’s been activated. Time for you to go,” he whispered at the mirror and laughed again.
CHAPTER 11
While Quinn would have liked to leave the Seattle area immediately, he knew if they didn’t first get a handle on their situation, they could run themselves right into trouble.
The logical place to start was with Danielle.
He stationed Nate in the hallway in case she tried to run, and then unlocked her door.
She looked at him as he walked in, disappointed. “I thought maybe you were bringing me something to eat. At least Mr. Black fed us.”
“When we eat, you eat. I promise.” He stopped a few feet from the bed. “I’m hoping you can help us.”
“Oh, really. In what way?” she asked, her tone dismissive.
“This doesn’t need to be a confrontation.”
“Whatever you say.”
“Look, we don’t want to be here any more than you do. We were supposed to be done last night after we dealt with your Mr. Black. Rescuing anyone was not part of the plan.”
“You didn’t rescue anyone. You’re holding me, and you left the others behind.”
“The police were at the house within twenty minutes after we left. Your cellmates are being cared for in a hospital right now.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“You don’t have to,” he said. “Follow me.”
He walked into the hallway and waited.
A few seconds passed before Danielle stepped through the doorway. “Is this another trick?”
“No trick,” Quinn said. “We’re going downstairs.”
He motioned for Nate to go first and then he followed. The girl took her time, but eventually made her way down.
Quinn picked up the remote control and switched on the TV. Like before, the news was all about the events at Edmondson’s house. The girl watched, rapt, inching closer and closer until she was standing next to Quinn. After another update from the reporter at the hospital, he hit the mute button.
Danielle blinked and looked at him. “All right. So you did let them go. You still have me, though.”
“We do.”
“Why?”
“There’s the big question. Why don’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Why would our client tell us to free the others but hold on to you?”
She shrugged. “Why don’t you ask him?”
“Her. And she’s gone MIA.”
A hint of surprise in her eyes. “Then, then…you should probably let me go, too.”
“I wish it was that easy. Until I know why she wanted you, I can’t do anything.”
She straightened, reasserting her defiance. “Sorry. Can’t help you.”
“It would make things easier if you told us.”
“If you’re looking for the easy method, why don’t you beat it out of me?”
“No one’s going to do that.”
“Right. You’re going to be all polite and nice and respectful. And then you’ll hand me over to your missing client when you find her. What do you think she’ll do?” She stared at him. “Torture me now or later, it’s the same damn thing.”
“You’re not going to be tortured.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t promise something you can’t guarantee.”
She was right, of course. He had no idea what Helen’s intentions were. That bothered him. He liked the girl’s spirit, and his intuition was telling him she wasn’t an enemy.
“If you don’t want to talk, I’m not going to push,” he said.
“Prefer to leave it to them, huh?”
He turned to Nate. “Take her back to her room.”
As she was led away, Quinn lowered himself onto the couch. There had to be some other way to learn what was going on. He ran everything that had happened through his mind again.
What about Samuel Edmondson?
Sure, the creep was dead, but he couldn’t have been acting alone. The girl from cell one had mentioned others coming for them. If Quinn found one of Edmondson’s associates, he might find his answers.
Usually he’d set Orlando to the task of tracking people down, but until Daeng joined her, he’d rather she focus on her own survival. Luckily she wasn’t the only one he could turn to for help.
The Mole answered in his typical, oddly patterned monotone. “It’s a little…early.”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to get you out of bed,” Quinn said.
“I did not say I…was out of…bed.”
It would take a while for Quinn to get that image out of his head. “I need your help.”
“Of course you…do. What…is it you need?”
There had been a time when the Mole was a pain in the ass to deal with, but since Quinn had helped rid him of someone who’d been taking advantage of the Mole for years, things had changed. Now the Mole’s monotone didn’t come with quite the same amount of contempt as it had before.
“Are you familiar with what’s going on in Seattle?”
“I…am familiar with many…things…going…on in Seattle.”
“I’m talking about the women who were missing.”
“The Edmondson matter.”
“Yes.”
“It was only a…matter of time.”
“What do you mean? Do you know something about it?”
“Not…exactly.”
“That’s not a no.”
“You’re right.”
“For God’s sake, can we not play twenty questions and you just tell me what you do know?”
“Not on the news…yet, but my private channels…tell me…he had several…holding cells in his…basement.”
“Six,” Quinn said.
A pause. “Maybe…you know…more than I.”
“We’re the ones who found the place and tipped off the police.”
“Interesting.”
“You are now the only one besides those involved who’s aware of that, so if you decide to share it with anyone, I’ll know it came from you.”
“Your…secret’s safe…with me, Batman. I assume there…is a…reason you are…telling me this.”
Quinn described what they had discovered in Edmondson’s hidden lair.
“It sounds like…a way station. There…have been rumors of…a human smuggling…operation running…in the Northwest. And given…that the news has been reporting that the three…girls who were found…had all been…missing, I…would speculate that the rumors…are true.”
“There were actually four,” Quinn told him.
“I’m sorry?”
“Four women. We have one of them.”
Even for the Mole, the pause that followed was a long one. “Why?”
“Not something you need to know.”
“If you…say so. You…still have not…told me what you want.”
“There’s no way Edmondson was operating alone. Others had to have known about his setup. I need to talk to one of them.”
“Why…are you asking…me? Is something wrong…with Orlando?”
If the Mole could be said to have any true friends, Orlando would top that list.
“Don’t worry,” Quinn said. “You’re not treading on her territory. She’s just otherwise occupied. If it helps, I’d like you to concentrate on anyone within fifty miles of Seattle.”
“You’re still…there,” the Mole guessed.
“In the area, but not for long. Two hours. That’s all I can give you.”
“That…may not be…enough time.”
“It’ll have to be.”
An hour and forty minutes later, the Mole called back.
“One name,” he said. “Roger Platt.”
“Who is he?” Quinn asked.
“Shift foreman…at Roland-McNeil Aeronautics.”
“A shift foreman?”
“On the…horizontal stabilizer assembly…line. RMA does contract…work for…larger aircraft…companies.”