Shadow of Betrayal

Quinn took a moment before he spoke. “I can hardly wait.”

“I’m going to have another go at our source. Try to set up a meeting to get all his information. It’s the only way we’ll find out what the hell is going on.” He paused. “I want you to take the meeting.”

“Of course you do.”

Peter remained quiet, giving Quinn a moment.

“I have one provision,” Quinn said.

“What?”

“I want the meeting to take place at a location I’m familiar with.”

“That makes sense to me.”

“Someplace public. I’m guessing he’ll want to meet me in New York. But that’s not going to work for me, not with my face still plastered over all the papers.”

“That’s getting cleared up,” Peter said. “Another day or two and no one will even remember the drawing.”

“You’d better be right.”

“Trust me on this.”

“Fine. But New York is still out. D.C. wouldn’t be good, either. Chicago would be better, or someplace like that.”

“I’ll try,” Peter said. “He might not go for it.”

“Then you take the meeting. Those are my terms.”

“Our deal was no questions,” Peter said.

“Our deal was not for open-ended jobs, either, Peter. You’re taking advantage of my trust on this one. So we do the meeting my way, or you do it yourself.”

“Are you going to stay in Montreal?”

The only response was the line disconnecting.

Peter did not receive word back from Primus until noon the next day. He was afraid Primus had cut all communication links. The emergency cell phone number, a number that was only supposed to be used once, was no longer in service. The only thing Peter had left was an anonymous email address that he hoped Primus was still checking.

Thankfully, it appeared he was.

Peter’s original message had read:

Request for meeting. Earliest possible.

The Field Museum. Chicago.

The response was equally brief:

Noon. Thursday.

Los Angeles, not Chicago. LACMA. Entrance.

Thursday was two days away. And the location would please Quinn. They were on.

CHAPTER

17

THEY HAD ALMOST GOT HER. THE PEOPLE WHO HAD wanted Iris, the people who had tried to trap her in New York, the people who she was now one hundred percent positive killed her family had come within seconds of trapping her in her parents’ house. She had thought for a moment that one of them, the man whose picture she’d seen on the news, was going to try and pull her out of her car as she drove away. But he had only stared at her as she drove off. Then, thinking at first she was free, a flash of lights swept across her rearview mirror as a car pulled from the curb and began following her.

“No! Leave us alone!” she had said as she pressed the gas pedal down.

In the back, Iris first laughed, then screamed in surprise as she slid along the upholstered seat. Marion looked back, aware she had not secured the child, but knowing she couldn’t stop now to do anything about it.

“Iris, sweetheart, give me your hand,” Marion said. She stretched her right arm back toward the girl, hoping Iris would understand. “Come on, please. Take my hand.”

After a moment, Iris reached out her small five-year-old hand and put it in Marion’s. Marion closed her own around it and pulled the child forward. Iris whimpered in fear, but allowed Marion to move her toward the gap between the front seats.

“All right, baby. Up here with me.”

She lifted Iris and tried to move her between the seats, but the girl’s feet got caught and wouldn’t come through.

“Lift your legs, honey.”

But Iris couldn’t figure out what Marion wanted. She just smiled, her loving, simple eyes oblivious to the danger around them. Marion had no choice but to pull the girl through as much as she could, then lay her headfirst on the passenger seat while she freed the girl’s legs.

Once she got Iris situated in the front seat, and the seatbelt fastened around the girl’s tiny form as best as possible, she checked her mirror again. The car was still there.

As they drove onward, a streetlight illuminated the driver. A man. About her age or maybe even a little younger. He didn’t look particularly menacing, but he did look determined, and that was all the danger she needed for motivation.

She remembered a church ahead. It was another four blocks down and off to the right. If she could somehow get to it while he was out of sight, she might have a chance. She turned a few blocks shy of the church and pushed the gas down hard. But he remained right with her.

Two blocks down, she went left, then left again, circling the block and hoping to get him off guard. Then she had her first bit of luck all week. A taxi pulled into the road behind her, and in front of her pursuer. It was driving slower and forced the man who had been following her to reduce his speed.