“Well, at least east on the ninety.”
“And the woman?”
A slight pause. “I could only see the two of them.”
That didn’t bother Orbits much. There was plenty of room in a Cherokee for her to hide in. Besides, if Quinn and his partner had ditched the girl, they’d be on a plane headed home instead of driving around the countryside.
No, she was still with them. He could feel it.
“Any sightings of them after that?”
“I haven’t had the chance to look yet. I just found them and wanted to let you know.”
“Well, then, look, dammit.”
Donnie said, “That’ll take time.”
“Do I have to tell you how to do your job? Start with the cameras closest to where the ninety and the eighty-two split.”
“Right, yeah. That makes sense.”
“Of course it makes sense! Now get to it.”
Orbits hung up.
He was about to head over to the helicopter when he remembered he hadn’t heard back from Ananke. He dialed her number again, but this time it didn’t even ring before he was sent to voice mail.
He frowned, then left a message similar to his previous one, but couldn’t help thinking she was avoiding him. He was sure she had information that would make his job easier.
This was not a problem without a solution, however. They shared a common friend, a job broker by the name of Marko Lutz.
“Ricky! How’s it going, man?” Marko had one of those always-on personalities. Orbits liked that about him.
“Going well, Marko. How are things with you?”
“Same as always. Outstanding.”
“Good to hear,” Orbits said. “Listen, I’m wondering if you can do me a favor.”
“If it’s in my power, I am at your service.”
“Nothing big, just need you to get a message to someone for me.”
“Sounds easy enough. Who to?”
“He said to tell you he needs to discuss Seattle with you,” Marko told Ananke. “Something about a mutual friend. A Mr. Q? That make any sense?”
The only reply she could manage was, “Uh-huh.”
“He also wanted me to pass along his number in case you lost it.” Marko recited it to her.
“Thanks,” she said, barely moving her lips.
“Anything you want me to tell him?”
“Nope.”
“Cool. Hey, what’s your schedule look like next month? I might have something right up your alley.”
“I’m…pretty booked up.”
“Tell you what, when things firm up, I’ll call you anyway and see how your schedule’s looking. Cool by you?”
“Sure, Marko. That’s fine.”
“Then I guess I’ll talk to—”
Her thumb touched the disconnect button.
She stared out her window at the hills behind her house. Now she understood what was going on. Ricky was a hunter, and if he wanted to know about the job in Seattle then he had to be hunting the girl Quinn and Nate had taken from the basement.
This was not good.
As lame of a lover as Ricky had been, he was a good hunter. During the time she’d spent with him, he had never once failed to track down his prey.
Maybe if she hadn’t gone down in that basement with Quinn, hadn’t seen the women Edmondson had been holding there, hadn’t talked to Danielle, maybe there might have been a miniscule chance she’d tell Ricky what he wanted to know.
But she had done all those things and there was no way she would talk to Ricky now.
If she needed to talk to anyone, it was Quinn.
When she called him, she was immediately prompted to leave a message. She hung up before the beep. Who knew how long it would be before he listened to it? He needed to know about Orbits now. Since she didn’t have Nate’s number, she was left with only two other options, only one of which was good. She called Helen.
The first hint that something was wrong was the male voice answering the call. “Yes.”
Helen had always picked up this line herself.
Ananke considered hanging up, but said, “I’m looking for Director Cho.”
“She’s unavailable at the moment, but I’d be happy to have her call you back. May I have your name, please?”
“Magenta twenty-two slash m,” she said, using the emergency code that should immediately put her through to the director.
But the man said, “I apologize, but as I said before, the director is unavailable at the moment. Your name, please.”
Ananke didn’t even bother hanging up. She popped out the phone’s battery, removed the SIM card, and broke it in half. It was the second card she’d destroyed that day — a record. But something was not right in San Francisco.
She retrieved a new card from her safe and reluctantly dialed her final option.
Given that her number would not be recognizable to the person on the other end, she expected to be sent to voice mail and was not disappointed.
She recited her new number, said, “Call me as soon as you get this,” and hung up, knowing there would be no mistaking her voice.
The return call came within twenty seconds.
“What do you want?” Orlando asked.
“Always a pleasure to hear your voice,” Ananke said.
“I don’t have time to chat right now, Ananke. I’m a little tied up. So if you don’t have a point…”
As much as Ananke knew she shouldn’t, she couldn’t help but push the other woman’s buttons. “Literally tied up? Because that would be interesting.”
“I’m hanging up now.”
“Wait, wait, sorry. I, um, I have something you need to know.”
“What?”
“Quinn and Nate are in danger.”
“That’s not exactly news,” Orlando said.
“Why? Did something happen?”
A beat, then, “Is that the extent of your information, or do you have anything useful?”
“I do,” Ananke said. “They need to know that someone’s chasing them.”
“Also not news.”
“Well, do you know who it is?”
“Are you saying you do?”
“You know what? Never mind. I’ll just leave Quinn a message.”
“Hold on,” Orlando said. “If you know who it is, tell me.”
Ananke fought the urge to hang up, and said, “A hunter named Ricky Orbits.”
“Orbits? I’ve heard of him. How do you know he’s after my team?”
“How I know isn’t important.”
“Like hell it isn’t. I’m just supposed to believe you?”
Ananke closed her eyes and clenched her jaw, giving herself a second to get her growing anger under control. She had to remind herself that Orlando’s hatred wasn’t really Ananke’s fault but it was still justified. “Look, I know you’re not my biggest fan but I’m doing you a favor here. I’m not lying.” She paused again. “Ricky called me, all right? He wanted to know what happened in Seattle.”
“Why would he call you?”
“We used to be…friends, I guess.”
“Oh, I get it. Another one of your side projects.”
“If you don’t want to believe me, then don’t.”
Silence.
“So what did you tell him?” Orlando asked, much of her confrontational tone gone.
“I didn’t tell him anything. He left me a message that he wanted to talk, that’s all. And to answer your next question, I have no intention of calling him back. I’m telling you because Ricky’s…unconventional. He’s not going to follow any set of rules to get what he’s after. You need to tell Quinn.”
“I…I will,” Orlando said. “Thanks.”
It was suddenly as if a whole new level of awkwardness had descended on the conversation.
“Yeah, uh, don’t worry about it. Good luck, huh?”
Ananke was starting to pull the phone away from her ear when Orlando asked, “How many people does he usually work with?”