Brett Battles - The Collected

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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 attendant 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.”

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