Brett Battles: The Collected

He navigated to his voice mail and pressed the link to her message.

“Call me as soon as you get this. I don’t know if I’m just overreacting, or there’s a problem, but-” A pause. “Just call me.”

There was no missing the panic in her voice.

Quinn hurriedly pulled on the rest of his clothes, and made his way to the exit. As soon as he stepped outside, he called his sister back.

“Jake?” she said, answering before the first ring was complete.

“Is everything all right?”

“I, I don’t know. Um, uh…”

“Slow down. Take a breath. Tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s Nate. I think he might be missing.”

Quinn paused on the sidewalk. “Why do you think that?”

“I can’t find him.”

He closed his eyes, and grimaced. Every since it became clear the relationship between Liz and Nate was more than a fling, he’d been worried something like this was going to happen. Nate’s work meant there would be times he wouldn’t be reachable. It was the nature of the job, and Quinn was sure there was no way Liz could fully understand that, and would at some point feel hurt because of it.

“Liz, it’s probably nothing,” he said. “Sometimes projects take a bit longer than expected, that’s all. I’m sure he’ll call you as soon as he can.”

“No. You don’t understand. He was supposed to meet me. He didn’t show up.”

Quinn cocked his head, surprised. “Meet you? Where?”

“Los Angeles. I flew in a couple hours ago.”

“Where are you now?”

“I’m in your house. He’s not here, Jake. I don’t think he’s been here for days.”

“And you were supposed to meet him?”

“Yes,” she said, annoyed. “We’ve been planning this for weeks. He’s the one who flew me out. He was supposed to pick me up at the airport, but he wasn’t there. So I came here, and he’s not here, either.”

Quinn started heading toward Orlando’s again, walking quickly at first, then breaking into a run. “You tried calling him?”

“Half a dozen times. Straight to voice mail. What’s going on? Where could he be?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t talked to him in a while. Look, Liz, sit tight, okay? It’s probably nothing. Let me see what I can find out, and I’ll call you back.”

“When?”

“As soon as I know something.”

He could hear her breathing rapidly on the other end. “What could have happened? Do you think…do you think…”

“I don’t think anything,” he said, knowing where her mind must be going. “Just relax, okay? I’ll call you soon. I promise.”

He thought he heard her say something, but it was low and unintelligible, then she hung up.

Without breaking stride, he called Orlando.

“Hey,” she said. “You all-”

“I just talked Liz.”

Orlando’s light tone disappeared. “What’s going on?”

“She was supposed to meet Nate in Los Angeles today.”

“Yeah, I know. She emailed me a couple days ago. Said they might come up here next week.”

She had failed to share that information with Quinn, but that wasn’t surprising. “He didn’t show up.”

“What?”

“He didn’t meet her at the airport and he’s not at home, either. She thinks he’s missing.”

“He’s probably just stuck on a job.”

“Probably, but…”

They were both silent for a moment before Orlando said, “But he would have at least let her know.”

“Yeah. Listen, I’ll be there in a few minutes, but can you-”

“Make some calls? Not while I’m talking to you.”

The line went dead.

Quinn sprinted the rest of theway back to Orlando’s place, and yanked open the front door. Mrs. Vu was standing at the entrance table, sorting the mail. She whirled around, gasping in shock as he entered.

“Sorry,” Quinn said. “Where is she?”

The old Vietnamese woman hesitated only a moment before pointing up the stairs. “In office.” As Quinn started across the foyer, she pointed at his feet. “Shoes. Shoes.”

He ignored her, and ran to the stairs.

“Shoes!” she called after him.

He paused halfway up, just long enough to pull each shoe off, then continued to the second floor. Behind him he could hear Mrs. Vu scoff. She and her husband took care of the house and helped with Garrett. Undoubtedly, she was already heading for the vacuum, and would have the stairs spotless in a matter of minutes.

Orlando’s office was located at the front of the house. Quinn skirted around the top of the banister, and raced over to the open door. She was sitting at her desk, her phone to her ear. Looking up, she raised a finger, telling him to hold on.

“Uh-huh…Yeah, I understand…Thanks. I appreciate it.” She hung up, and said to Quinn, “Isaac Parker.”

Parker was a middleman, a job broker who put together projects for clients who wanted to maintain distance from the actual work.

“And?”

“Nate’s not working for him.”

“Have you reached anyone else?”

“Two others. Simmons and Van Dorn. Was going to try Tan-” She paused. “What am I thinking? Daeng.”

“What about Daeng?” Quinn asked.

“Nate’s been using him a lot lately.”

“He has? How do you know that?”

“Someone had to keep an eye on things here when you were doing your soul searching.”

“You were there with me.”

“Yeah,” she said, lifting the corner of her laptop. “And there’s this little thing called the Internet. Perhaps you’re familiar with it.”

He tried to keep from glaring at her as he pulled out his cell and selected Daeng’s number.

Three rings, then a sleepy, “Hello?”

“Daeng? It’s Quinn.”

“Kind of early to be calling, don’t you think?”

Quinn glanced at his watch. It was four-twenty in the afternoon. “Depends on where you are.”

“Everything depends on where you are.” Daeng let out a long yawn. “It’s all right. I needed to get up anyway.”

“Are you back in Bangkok?”

“Yeah.”

Quinn did a quick time calculation. It would be six twenty a.m. there. “Nate wouldn’t happen to be with you, would he?”

“Nate? No. Why would he be here?”

“Haven’t you two been working together?”

“Yeah, but I had to come home to deal with something.”

“So you’re not helping him on a job right now.”

“No, I’m not. What’s going on?”

Quinn filled him in. “It’s only been a few hours, so it’s possible he’s just tied up, but it’s not like him to let Liz arrive without getting word to her that he wouldn’t be there.”

Daeng was silent.

“Are you still there?” Quinn asked.

“Yeah. I was just thinking.”

When Daeng didn’t continue, Quinn said, “Thinking what?”

Daeng hesitated, then said, “Not important.”

Quinn let the silence hang for a moment. “When did you leave L.A.?”

“Five days ago.”

“Do you know if he was going to be working on a job while you were gone?”

“Yeah. He had something lined up.”

“Who hired him?”

“He didn’t tell me. The gig came in after I booked my flight, so he knew I wouldn’t be helping him.”

Which meant Nate’s ethics would keep him from sharing the information, a habit Quinn himself had drilled into his former apprentice.

“Any idea who he got to replace you?”

“He was making some calls, but not having any luck at the time. He did say the broker offered to set him up with someone if he couldn’t find anyone.”

“He said a broker? Not a client direct hire.”

“He said broker.”

“Okay, that’s something. Can you think of anything else?”

Daeng said nothing for several seconds. “No. That’s it as far as I can remember.”