“Hello there,” she said.
Inside were two shelves. The top one held a few files and some closed envelopes, and the bottom the laptop she’d been hoping for.
As she started to pull the computer out, Quinn’s phone vibrated. It was Nate.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“Company, I think,” Nate said.
“The neighbor’s back already?”
“No. Not that kind of company. Sedan just pulled into one of the visitor spots. Three men, one woman, all suited. Walked fast into the garage area. They’re out of sight now. Could be heading your way, could be going someplace else entirely. I didn’t like the looks of them, though. Wherever they’re going, they’re bringing trouble.”
Quinn touched Orlando on the shoulder. “Out. Now.”
“What about the rest of the stuff?” Abraham asked.
“We’ll bring it with us,” Orlando said.
“Fast,” Quinn told her.
As she began scooping out everything from inside the safe, Quinn hustled Abraham into the bedroom and said into the phone, “The front still clear?”
“Yeah, you’re good there for now,” Nate said.
“All right. We’ll use the—”
A pop from downstairs. Not loud, but distinct. The opening of a door a bit out of alignment with its frame.
“Check that,” he whispered. “We may be coming out hot.”
He hung up and glanced around. The master bedroom was at the back of the house. Not the way he wanted to leave.
He moved his mouth right up to Abraham’s ear. “As quiet as you can, go to the front bedroom. I’m going to grab Orlando and we’ll be right behind you.”
Abraham nodded and headed out of the room.
Quinn moved back into the bathroom, stepping carefully so that none of the floorboards squeaked.
“They’re inside,” he whispered.
She shoved the tiles back into place, stuffed the computer and papers into her backpack, and jumped to her feet.
Quinn led her through the hall and to the front bedroom. As Orlando carefully closed the door, Quinn unlatched the window and gave it a test upward push. He breathed a sigh of relief as it slid easily along its frame. Because it was winter, Eli had removed his screens, so as soon as Quinn had the window all the way open, he stuck his head outside.
The roof that covered part of the entrance-level deck was only a few feet below the windowsill.
“Come on,” he said. “Orlando first.”
She crawled out the window.
“Abraham,” Quinn said, holding out a hand to help the older man.
“It’s okay. I can do it.”
Abraham ducked through the frame and disappeared outside.
As Quinn lifted a leg over the sill, he heard a noise from the other side of the bedroom door that sounded very much like someone coming up the stairs. He hurried out and lowered the window, wishing he had a way to lock it.
He motioned for Orlando to head over to the deck roof of the townhouse that had looked unoccupied. Once there, he lowered himself and took a quick glance through the window, confirming no one was home.
“Abraham,” he said.
The older man’s legs appeared first. As he lowered himself, Quinn grabbed him just above the knee to help guide him. Without warning, his rate of descent increased. Quinn tried to catch him, but ended up becoming more of a landing pad as Abraham tumbled completely off the edge.
Quinn was sure the sound of the crash would draw the attention of the visitors next door.
“Move,” he said to Abraham, pushing him off.
As soon as he was free, Quinn jumped to his feet and called to Orlando, “Come on.”
She eased over the edge and didn’t let go until Quinn had a good hold of her. Quickly, he set her down, his eyes darting over to Eli’s deck. No one yet.
“You have any trackers with you?” he asked Orlando.
She shot a guilty glance at Abraham. “A couple.”
“Give me one, then you two go to the car. I’ll tag their vehicle and meet you a few blocks away.”
She pulled out a plastic box and removed a tracker identical to the one she’d put on Abraham’s collar. “Be careful,” she said.
He kissed her. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
Quinn had to assume the intruders were professionals, which meant at least one of them would have remained outside the townhome, covering the entrance they had used. But when he looked down the access road at the back of Eli’s building, he could see no one.
He pulled out his phone, flipped up the collar of his jacket, and walked with purpose into the alley, pretending to scroll through e-mails. His eyes, however, were moving back and forth just enough so that he could take in both sides of the alley.
The backs of the units consisted of garages separated by narrow, fenced-off patios. Most people seemed to be using the extra space as storage areas for bikes and the like.
Eli’s patio was empty, the back door the others had used to get in, closed. Nowhere to hide there. So, was there a sentry or not? Or was someone waiting in the sedan Quinn planned on tagging? That would be a problem.
Quinn chuckled as if he’d read something amusing, then looked up, just a normal guy checking his progress.
There.
On a patio two homes ahead and on the right, where a permanent wooden shed had been built. Not big by any means, three foot wide at the most, and sticking out from the townhouse perhaps twice that distance. It was tall in comparison, seven feet with a sloping roof. There were two stacks of heavy-duty plastic storage containers, and another stack of outdoor chairs on the patio. A virtual fort someone could hide inside.
He tapped Orlando’s number and raised the cell to his ear.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, sorry. I’m heading out now. Had to take care of a little thing here at home first,” he said.
“Oh, we’re playing that game, are we?”
“Yeah,” he said, a quick laugh in his voice. “Something like that.”
As he drew level with the shed, he kept his eyes forward and focused on his peripheral vision.
“Do you need help?” she asked.
“No, no. It’s all good. I should be there on time.”
A twist of a shadow. Simple. Subtle.
A civilian would have dismissed it as a trick of the eye, if the person would even notice it at all, but to Quinn it was proof he was right.
“If you could do me a favor and make sure everyone’s ready to go when I get there,” he said. “Better if we don’t waste any time.”
“South southeast of you,” she said. “Battery Lane. There’s a big ambulance dispatch station at the corner with Old Georgetown Road.”
“Uh-huh,” he said. He was past the shed now, only a unit away from the end of the alley.
“We’re in the parking lot on the north side.”
“That’s great. Thanks. I’ll see you soon.”
He put the phone away and shoved his hands into his pockets, tensing his arms to ward off the cold — not something he needed to pretend to do. Keeping his pace unchanged, he turned left out of the alley, toward the main road. As soon as he was out of the sentry’s line of sight, he angled over to the cars parked alongside the lot where the sedan was.
He pulled the tracker out of his pocket and dropped to a crouch. Using the other cars to shield his presence, he worked his way back to the sedan and slipped the tracker into its grill, jamming it into a niche so that even if the adhesive had trouble hanging on in the cold, the chip wouldn’t go anywhere.
He grabbed his phone again and sent a quick text to Orlando.
Tracker in place
Her reply came moments later.
Active and working
CHAPTER 17
The first surprise came when Gloria and her team discovered the alarm to Becker’s home was off. The analyst had left town in a hurry, but Gloria found it hard to believe he’d have gone without properly securing his place.