[Quinn 01] - The Cleaner

Quinn scrolled through a series of menus and reports, checking on the security status of his house. When he was satisfied that all was well, he switched the system to House Occupied. Number of people present: Two. This allowed the system to remain in an active mode while still accounting for his and Nate's presence.

'So, did you enjoy your Thai food?' Nate asked.

'Thought you said you had an errand?'

'I did.'

'You decided you'd try following me, didn't you?' Quinn asked.

'Just trying to get in a little practice,' Nate said, barely able to contain a smug smile. 'At first I thought you'd made me. You definitely didn't take the most direct route. But then you gave up, and I realized you hadn't seen me after all.'

There was triumph in Nate's voice. 'What's the one thing I've told you about following someone in a large city?' A bit of Nate's smile disappeared. 'That it's easy to do. Too many cars. Hard to be spotted.'

'Especially at night, right?'

'Right.'

'So how much skill would it have taken to follow me around?' Nate shrugged. 'Not a lot, I guess.' 'And how skillful would I have to be to have spotted you?'

'You'd have to be the best,' Nate conceded.

'Try following me at three in the morning if you want me to see how good you are.' Quinn paused. 'Besides, tonight you were always at least three cars behind me. A dark blue Nissan Altima.'

Nate stared at him.

'Arizona plates. I can give you the number if you'd like.' Now it was Quinn's turn to smile. 'How about a drink?'

Nate continued to gape. 'You knew I was there the whole time?' 'Try to keep up with the conversation, all right? What do you want to drink?'

'Eh . . . Scotch and soda?'

Quinn eyed him curiously. 'That's an old man drink. Since when do you have those?' Nate shook his head. 'Never had one before.' 'Then why would you want to start now?' 'Saw someone have one on TV,' Nate said.

'Thought I'd give it a try.' 'Why don't we save that for your sixtieth birthday. I'll make you a mai tai.' 'Haven't had one of those, either,' Nate said agreeably.

Quinn walked over to the built-in bar near a large stone fireplace on the left side of the living room and began making the drinks. 'What do you think your biggest mistake was?'

'When I was following you?'

'In Colorado. Where did you mess up the most?'

'Oh. I guess going to see the police on my own.'

'That was a close second, I'll give you that. Try something else.'

'That I didn't do as you told me?'

'We'll make that one-B,' Quinn said.

Nate was silent for a moment. 'I'm not sure what you're looking for.'

Quinn emerged from behind the bar carrying two drinks. He walked over to Nate and handed him one. 'What name did you use when you were out there?'

Nate glanced away for a second. 'Nathan Driscoll. And before you even ask, I know. Never use any part of your own name.'

'That's a pretty simple one.' 'I didn't want to get tripped up,' Nate said. 'Besides, I only used my first name.'

'It's enough,' Quinn said, then took a sip of his drink. 'Tripped up in Colorado this morning or killed ten years from now in someplace like St Petersburg because someone ID'd you from the name you used with the chief of police. It's pretty much the same thing, isn't it?' Quinn raised his glass in a mock toast. 'Here's hoping that one never comes back to bite you in the ass.'

When Quinn bought his house, it had been a twelve-hundred-square-foot fixer-upper. By the time he'd finished his renovations, it was more than twice its original size, and little trace of the old structure remained.

The main floor was located at street level. It was a large, open space that stretched nearly the entire length of the house. Through a series of half-walls, bookcases, and furniture, it was divided up into a dining room, living room, study, and kitchen. Only the bathroom was truly private. The three bedrooms and office were all downstairs, below street level, following the slope of the hill.

The house had a warm feel to it, due in part to a large amount of exposed wood. Nate said it reminded him of a rustic farmhouse stuck on the side of a hill. That image cut a little too close to Quinn's farm-boy roots. He preferred equating it to a comfortable mountain cabin.

Quinn carried his drink across the room, then opened the curtains that were drawn across the entire back wall of the house.

'I never get over your view,' Nate said.

The rear of the house was mostly glass. And Nate was right, Quinn's view of the city was spectacular. Lights spread across the L.A. basin as far as the eye could see. Closest to them was the Sunset Strip. Beyond that, Century City, and a little more to the right in the distance was the dark void of the Pacific Ocean.

'This was a good trip for you,' Quinn said. 'If you're smart, you learned a lot.' Nate was about to take a drink, but stopped instead and lowered his glass. 'I'm smart.'

'Tell me how smart?'