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Quinn had said the apartment was on the second floor, so Nate headed for the stairs. But Quinn walked past them toward the back. Feeling like he was becoming a semipermanent resident in the world of confusion, Nate adjusted his path and followed.

At the rear, a doorless entryway led to a smaller room with a closed metal door mounted in the outside wall. As Quinn pulled it open, warm night air rushed in.

“Don’t let it shut or we’re locked out,” Quinn said.

As soon as Nate had control of the door, Quinn headed out into a small exterior space that was surrounded on the other three sides by the neighboring buildings. Walking slowly, he gazed at the stone-covered ground. There seemed to be no apparent pattern to his wanderings, but then he suddenly stopped and crouched down. Gently, he touched one of the stones, then looked at the wall of the closest building. Rising, he walked over to it, tapped a couple of the bricks, and pulled one out.

It was too dark for Nate to see what his mentor was doing with the brick, but within seconds it was back in place, and Quinn was heading toward him.

“What was that all about?” Nate asked.

“Come on,” Quinn said as he moved past him into the building.

Quietly, they made their way up to the apartment on the second floor. Nate glanced at the nameplate. It was blank.

“My lock picks are still in L.A.,” he said.

“Don’t need them.” Quinn opened his palm and showed Nate three keys.

So that’s what had been hidden in the brick, Nate realized.

Quinn used them to unlock the two deadbolts and the handle lock on the door, then pushed it open. Once it was wide enough, he whispered, “Don’t touch anything. We’re just making sure no one’s been here already.”

“You mean Mila?”

“Yeah.”

Nate nodded, and they stepped inside.

As he started to move further into the room, Quinn held out a hand, stopping him. There was an alarm panel on the wall near the door. On it, a dull white light glowed bright then dim, bright then dim. Quinn opened a panel, and again punched in a number without any hesitation. The light faded off.

He took a moment to scan the room. “Okay. This way.”

Being at the back of the building meant little light filtered into the apartment from outside, making it hard for Nate to get a sense of the place. He could see the shadows of chairs and tables, and could even make out a bookcase running along one of the walls, but the details were lost in the darkness.

Quinn led him through the main living area, a dining room, and past a large kitchen. When they reached the back hallway, he stopped. With no windows, it was even darker than the rest of the place.

He signaled for Nate to stay there, then headed toward the rear of the apartment alone. Though Nate wasn’t particularly fond of being left behind, it was sound strategy. If someone was in the back, Nate would be the safety valve in case Quinn couldn’t deal with him.

A little over a minute passed before Quinn called out, “We’re clear.”

When his mentor rejoined him, Nate said, “Whose place is this?”

Quinn looked like he didn’t want to answer for a moment, but then he said, “Julien’s,” and started walking toward the front door.

The name caught Nate off guard. He stood there for a second, then hurried to catch up. “ French Julien?”

“Do you know any others?”

“No. But…my God, this place has been empty since…”

“Yeah, it has.”

In Paris the previous fall, Julien had been helping Nate get Quinn’s sister Liz to someplace safe, and had ended up dead for his efforts. Nate had been the one to find his body. Which meant it was unlikely anyone had set foot in the apartment since before then.

As Quinn crossed the room, Nate said, “Wait. What does Julien have to do with finding Mila?”

“Maybe nothing.”

“Quinn, stop.”

Nate’s mentor hesitated and turned back around.

“I appreciate that this isn’t easy for you,” Nate said. “But you’re hurting my ability to help if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

He could see Quinn struggling with how to answer. Finally, his mentor said, “Mila and Julien were friends.”

“ Good friends?” Nate asked.

“At one time. But they were always close.” Again, he paused. “Julien would have done anything for her.”

So that’s why Quinn needed to help Mila. He owed Julien a debt he could never repay. Nate owed him, too, for that matter. Helping Mila had to be an attempt to help offset some of the imbalance.

“Is there a reason she would come here?”

“Perhaps.”

“But why?”

“Because he left it to her.”

“He left his apartment to a dead woman? Can you even do that?”

Quinn sighed and closed his eyes for a second. When he opened them, he said, “He left it to me, all right? But for her.”

“Oh,” Nate said. “But it’s still a long shot that she’d come here, don’t you think?”

“There’s something of hers here, something Julien was holding for her.”

“What?”

“I don’t know. I just know she hasn’t been here yet. I left a tell on the brick with the key.”

“You think whatever he was keeping for her has something to do with why she came out of hiding?”

“I have a feeling it does.”

“But you don’t know what it is,” Nate said.

“It’s not my business.”

Nate ran everything through his mind, then said, “Okay, so we should probably set up a watch,” Nate said. “The three of us can rotate.”

“Yes,” Quinn looked relieved. “Definitely.”

“In the apartment or not?”

“I don’t want to scare her off.”

“All right, so not. What’s our time window?”

“If she doesn’t show up in the next forty-eight hours, she’s not coming.”

“I’ll take the first shift,” Nate said. “You can go back to the room with Daeng and fill him in.”

Quinn started to protest, but then caught himself and nodded. “I need to put the keys back first. If she comes and finds them gone, she’ll take off before we can get to her.”

Four minutes later, Nate stood alone in the darkened entrance of a building across the street, images of Julien replaying in his mind. If the Frenchman would have helped this Mila Voss woman, then that was all Nate needed to know.

He was all in.

CHAPTER 15

THURSDAY, MAY 11 ^ th, 2006 4:03 PM LAS VEGAS, NEVADA

The flight from Los Angeles to Las Vegas took less than an hour, the flight attendants barely having time to serve drinks and collect the trash before strapping back in for landing. Quinn had been through McCarren Airport many times, so he was able to quickly navigate through the terminal and to the parking structure where he found the promised car exactly where he’d been told it would be.

The drive to the Planet Hollywood Hotel on the Strip was quick, and soon he was heading up to the room number he’d been given. When he reached it, he knocked on the door, and took a step back. As soon as he heard someone approaching on the other side, he looked up at the tiny camera temporarily mounted high above the door, and waved.

Pointing out to those inside the hotel room that he knew the camera was there was probably unnecessary, but he couldn’t help it. He saw every detail, and since he’d never worked with these people before, it was a good way to let them know that right up front.

The door opened and a small guy in a light gray suit peeked out. “Can I help you?”

“I’m expected,” Quinn said.

The man made a show of scrutinizing Quinn’s face, then opened the door all the way. “Come on in.”

The room was a suite with a sitting area straight in from the door, a bar off to the right, and a dining area to the left. Beside the guy in the gray suit, there were four other men present. Two were also wearing suits, though in black, while the remaining two were dressed in buttoned shirts and slacks. They were all seated around the dining table, with several pieces of paper scattered in front of them.