Nate motioned for Daeng to pause. “What?”
“This one job she hired me for…it was, um, two or maybe three years ago. There were these others she’d hired directly. I-I remember them calling her something when she wasn’t around. Like a nickname, you know. Something they’d used before.”
“Are you going to give me actual information, or…”
“One second, please. Um, it was, uh, uh…hou…hom…hem…hen…hi…” Sheng looked down, racking his brain. Suddenly he looked up, his eyes bright. “Hyena. That’s what they called her. The Hyena. I asked why, and they said because once she started tracking something, she didn’t let go.”
The name scratched at the back of Nate’s mind, but whatever it was trying to tell him, Nate couldn’t dig it out.
“That’s not much to go on,” he said.
“It’s all I know.”
“You said that before and yet you came up with the Hyena.”
“I swear, that’s it. I don’t know anything else.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.” Before Sheng could protest again, Nate went on. “Tell me, have you ever seen her in person?”
The man’s brow furrowed. “Uh, yeah. Several times. Why?”
Nate looked over at Daeng. “Forget the tape. Find a pen and some paper. Mr. Sheng is about to write down a detailed description of his friend, Miss Smith.”
Chapter Four
WARROAD
HOW DO YOU tell a mother, your mother, her only daughter is dead? How do you tell her if it wasn’t for you and what you did for a living, that her daughter would still be alive? How do you tell her all her hopes and dreams for her child would never be fulfilled? That she would never hear her child’s voice or laugh again.
If there was an easy way, Quinn never figured out what it was.
As the words Liz is dead left his lips, his mother’s happy expression vanished.
She didn’t ask, “What?” or “Are you sure?” She believed him from the first. She didn’t know exactly what Quinn did for a living, but she’d been exposed to some of the violence in his life and knew Liz had become involved in his world. He realized his mother had been expecting this to happen all along.
What she did ask was, “When?”
“Four days ago.”
“Four days?” She looked away. “In Paris?” Liz attended graduate school there.
“Indonesia. I got here as quickly as I could. I didn’t…I didn’t want to tell you over the phone.”
She fell into silence, her gaze fixed on the coffee table but not seeing it.
Quinn wasn’t sure what to do. Sit still? Put an arm around her? Leave? In the end, he went into the kitchen and fetched a glass of water.
“Here,” he said, holding it out as he sat back down.
As if she were living in a world that moved at half speed, she turned her head and looked at the glass. She took it out of reflex, but her grip was loose and it slipped and crashed onto the floor, throwing water and pieces of glass everywhere. She barely seemed to notice.
“Where is she now?” she asked.
“At the mortuary.”
“Here?”
“Yes.”
Pushing unsteadily to her feet, she said, “Take me to her.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I don’t think she’s ready to be—”
“Take me to her!” she ordered, her eyes suddenly seething with anger and pain.
He stood. “Wait here. I’ll bring the car up.”
THE NEXT FEW days were all but unbearable. Quinn and Orlando handled most of the funeral details, but his mom insisted on picking out Liz’s burial clothes.
It seemed almost everyone in town turned out for the service. Though Liz hadn’t lived in Warroad for several years, her kindness and friendship were remembered by everyone she ever met. She was that kind of person.
If it hadn’t been for Quinn and Orlando’s seven-month-old daughter, Claire, Quinn didn’t think his mom would have made it through the opening minutes of the ceremony. Claire had insisted on sitting on her grandmother’s lap and Quinn’s mom had kept her arms around her grandchild, from before the reverend entered the church until after the casket had been carried out.
It was a mild day for mid-January in northern Minnesota, forty-five degrees Fahrenheit and not a cloud in sight. A good thing, as even more people showed up at the house than at the service.
Quinn’s mom was a trouper, graciously accepting the condolences of her friends and neighbors, and for the most part holding back the tears Quinn knew were screaming to be released.
It was well after dark when the last of the guests finally departed. Quinn, Orlando, and Orlando’s son, Garrett, cleaned up the house while Quinn’s mom watched Claire.
After Quinn dried the last dish and put it away, he lingered by the sink, not ready to face his mother again.
Orlando put her arms around him and pressed the side of her face against his shoulder. “You didn’t pull the trigger.”
He grunted in a way they both knew meant he might as well have.
She put a hand on his cheek. “I’m sure your mom’s tired. I’ll go in and get Claire so she can go to bed.”
“I should do it,” he said.
But as he broke from her embrace, his phone vibrated in his pocket. Earlier that day, he had set it so that the only calls he’d be notified about were ones from Orlando, Nate, and Daeng.
He pulled it out. “It’s Nate,” he said to Orlando, but hesitated before pushing ACCEPT.
“Answer it. I’ll go talk to your mom.”
With a nod, he pushed the button and said, “Hold on,” into the receiver.
He grabbed his jacket from a hook on the wall, pulled on a stocking cap, and opened the door. A blast of freezing air hit him as he stepped onto the stoop, the pleasant daytime temperature having plummeted as soon as the sun had set.
“Okay, I can talk now,” he said into the phone. “What’s going on?”
“We found the guy the shooter used to set everything up in Jakarta.”
“Did you talk to him?”
“I did.”
“And?”
Nate told him about the conversation he’d had with Sheng.
“The Hyena?” Quinn said. “I’m sure I’ve heard that name before.”
“I thought the same. I did a quick check, and there doesn’t seem to be anyone officially going by that name. I’m thinking maybe it’s more of a behind-their-back nickname.”
That made sense to Quinn, too. “Steve Howard may have mentioned it once…I think. I’ll check with him.”
“What about Helen? If anyone knows, she should.”
“I’ll call her, too.”
Helen Cho was head of the agency that often hired them. Nate had been doing a job for her when he unintentionally brought Liz and this Hyena together. The Hyena had actually been pursuing a woman named Dima, whom Nate was escorting, but Liz had gotten in the way.
“We’ll be back in Bangkok in a few hours,” Nate said. “Jar’s going to dig around and see what she can come up with. Sheng also told us the flight the Hyena took into Singapore so we’re hoping to backtrack her trail. Worst case, we should be able to dig up a few more aliases.” He paused. “How, um, was the funeral?”
Quinn parted his lips, but didn’t know what to say.
“I should have been there,” Nate said after a moment. “God, I should have been there.”
“You’re right where you need to be for Liz. Coming here would have been for you.”
A beat. “I get that, but it’s…never mind.”
“Find the shooter.”
“I’ll call if we have anything else.”
Quinn hung up but remained on the stoop, looking at the yard he and Liz had played in as kids. The Hyena. Did it mean anything? Or was his mind screwing with him? He wanted to call Steve Howard and Helen Cho right then and there, but he’d already been outside long enough.
He found everyone in the living room. Though his mom looked exhausted, she apparently had enough energy to hold Claire.
“You should get some sleep,” he told her. “It’s been a long day.”
She fussed with her granddaughter for a few more seconds before turning to him. “You’re probably right.”
Orlando said, “I suggested again that we stay in the guest room, but…”
“No, no. I’ll be okay.”
“We should stay here, Mom,” Quinn said. “You shouldn’t be alone.”
His mother hugged Claire tight, whispered something into the girl’s ear, and then held her out to Quinn. “I said no.”
“Mom.”
As she struggled to her feet, Quinn grabbed her arm with one hand while holding on to Claire with the other.
“Thank you,” she said, and kissed him on the cheek. “Go back to the motel.” She turned and started walking toward the hallway that led to the bedrooms. Halfway there, she stopped and looked at them again. “I-I-I don’t want you to come back. I don’t mean this trip, I mean…ever.”
“What are you talking about?”
Shoulders sagging, she looked as if she had never been so tired. “I love you. I love all of you so much. But there’s too much death around you. I-I can’t deal with it. If I don’t see you, maybe someday I won’t care as much what happens to any of you.” She frowned and shook her head. “I know that I’m probably kidding myself, but at least if I don’t know what’s going on, I can pretend that everything’s okay.”
“That’s crazy. We’re not going to stop seeing you.”
She smiled weakly. “If you love me, you will. And I know that you love me, Jake. You wouldn’t have come back if you didn’t.”
Quinn stared at her as she turned and left the room.
“Is she serious?” Garrett asked.
“Not right now, honey,” Orlando said. She took Claire from Quinn and put a hand on his back. “Come on. Let’s go.”
“But…”
“She needs time.”
He wanted to ask, “How much?” but was afraid the answer would be, “Forever.” So he let Orlando guide him away.
THEY DROVE TO Winnipeg, the closest city with a commercial airport, and caught the first flight back to Los Angeles. During the layover in Minneapolis, Quinn contacted Steve Howard.
“The Hyena? I haven’t heard that one in years,” Howard said. “There was this fixer in Spain, I think. Some of the ops called him that. He was tenacious. Never gave up on anyone.”
“A man?”
“Yeah. Matías something or other, I think. Not who you’re looking for?”
“No. Mine’s a woman.”
“That’s a good thing. If I’m not mistaken, Matías was killed about a year and a half ago.”
“You haven’t heard of anyone else called that?”
“None that comes to mind. What’s going on? Who is this woman?”
In most cases, Quinn would have cut the conversation off right there, but Howard was a good friend and had actually known Liz, so Quinn told him what had happened and why he was hunting the Hyena.
“Oh, my god, I’m so sorry. You need anything, I mean anything, you let me know.”
“You’ll be one of the first I call.”
Next, Quinn got Helen Cho on the line.
“How are you doing?” she asked. Helen was the one who’d arranged for Liz’s body to be flown into the States without paperwork, and was well aware of what had happened in Jakarta.
“I don’t know.”
“I shouldn’t have asked, sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I have a question. Are you aware of operatives who are known as the Hyena?”
She took a moment before saying, “No. Should I be?”
“A source identified the woman who killed my sister by that name.”
“Hold on. Are you trying to find her?”
“Of course I am.”
“Look, I do understand your desire to track her down, but I’m telling you, you need to back off and let it go.”
“Let it go? Are you kidding me?”
“Your sister’s death is a tragedy and shouldn’t have happened. But it wouldn’t have if your partner hadn’t detoured my package.” The package being Dima. “If Nate had kept the plane on course and flown to the original destination, the shooter would have never gotten anywhere near her or your sister.”
Sure, she was right, but he couldn’t change the past. It was the future he was focused on. “You have Dima now, I assume someplace where no one can get to her. So, what does it matter to you if I go after the shooter?”
“Dima is part of a larger operation. Anything you do could interfere with that. For now, the shooter stays free. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, I understand what you’re saying.”
“Quinn, do not get involved in this. If the other side doesn’t kill you, we will. The shooter stays free. Repeat it back to me.”
“Go to hell.”
He hit the disconnect button and turned his phone off.
He knew he should have told her what she wanted to hear to keep her off his back, but his ability to control his emotions wasn’t functioning at a hundred percent.
He motioned for Orlando to leave Claire with Garrett and come over.
“So?” she asked when she joined him.
He told her about his conversation with Helen.
“She didn’t give you any idea why she was bringing Dima to the States?” Orlando asked when he finished.
“No.”
She grimaced. “I’m not sure I like the idea of us walking into the middle of something.”
“Are you siding with her?” he asked, surprised.
In a calm, even tone, she said, “Not at all. All I said was that I don’t like the idea of walking into the middle of something. But it’s not like we haven’t done that before for less important reasons.”
“Sorry,” he said. “It’s just…”
“It’s just that it’s Liz.”
“Yes.” He thought for a moment. If they knew who wanted Dima dead, they’d know who’d hired the Hyena, maybe even use the client to get to her. With Helen unwilling to share, the only one who could tell them was… “What if we had a talk with Dima?”
“Did I miss the part where you said Helen gave you permission to do that and told you where Dima is?”
“I’m thinking it’s better if Helen doesn’t know.”
“Of course you do,” she said, smirking. “I guess I need to figure out where they stashed her.”
“So you’re on board?”
“If I said no, you’d try to do it on your own and get yourself killed. So yes, I’m on board.”
A woman’s voice came over the public address system. “Ladies and gentlemen, we will soon begin general boarding of Delta flight 2565 to Los Angeles. At this time, we welcome families with small children and those in need of….”
“I’ll give the Mole a call now,” Orlando said. “Get him started on digging things up.”
“While he’s at it, maybe he can get some insight on who this Hyena is.”
“I’ll put it on his list.”
Chapter Five
KARACHI, PAKISTAN
A PHONE WAS activated in Washington DC, a burner that would be used only this one time. The number dialed was in Vancouver, Canada, but the call did not end there. It continued through South Korea and India and Morocco before finally being answered in Karachi.
“Yes?”
“It’s confirmed,” the caller said. “She’s still alive. The Americans have her hidden away.”
Tahir Halabi’s grip on the device tightened. “And the fixer?”
“Still no word.”
“One moment.”
Tahir put the call on hold and said in Arabic through gritted teeth, “She is in the States.” Which they all knew meant she was no longer within their reach.
Tahir’s brother Bilal roared
with anger while Hammad Kassab’s expression changed not one bit.
“Then he is to find the fixer, by whatever means necessary,” Kassab, the uncle of the girl in question, said. “Make sure he understands.”
Tahir relayed the instructions to the hunter on the other end of the phone.
“I assure you, we are doing just that. We have even been looking into the others who were there at the failed attempt.”
“What others?”
“We know for sure there was at least one cleaner present.”
“I don’t understand. A cleaner?”
“A body-removal specialist.”
“Hired by the fixer?”
“Unclear at this point. But one source thinks that this person may be looking for her, too.”
“Does this cleaner have a name?”
“We are working on that.”
“You will keep us posted.”
Tahir hung up as the hunter was saying, “Of course.”
Chapter Six
SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA
ON THE DAY they returned home, Quinn and Orlando received an email from the Mole, stating there were over a dozen people in the business who were known in one place or another by the nickname Hyena. None, however, fit the description of Liz’s killer. As for Dima’s location, the Mole was still working on that.
While they waited for him to get back to them, Quinn and Orlando worked their other contacts, doing so with care to avoid drawing Helen’s attention. But the scant leads they unearthed led nowhere.
On Wednesday, five days after Liz’s funeral, the Mole finally called.
With his permission, Orlando put him on speaker. “You have both Quinn and me.”
“I apologize…for the tardi…ness of my response,” the Mole said in his halting, digitally altered voice. “It proved to…be a…frustrating task.”
Quinn grimaced. “You didn’t find her, did you?”
“I did…not say that. Frustrating, yes…but…ultimately successful. Dima…is staying at a… facility in North…Carolina.”
“What kind of facility?” Orlando asked.
“One that…few know about. Even I…was not…aware of its existence…until early this…morning. It is a…place…for those who…need to disappear.”
The Aggrieved Page 3
