FORTY

MIKE

“SO, does she remember you yet?” Sergeant Franco asked.

Quinn barely heard the question. The gas station’s pay phone was pressed to his ear, but it did little to drown out the rumble of the highway traffic. As he leaned against the warm hood of his car, the wind from a passing semi buffeted him.

“I just told you. Clare has fled the hospital. She’s a fugitive.”

“Yeah, and I naturally assumed you had something to do with that.”

“So did the Fish Squad,” Quinn responded, “until they moved on to more likely suspects.”

“More likely suspects?” Franco said. “That must mean Madame Dubois and her merry band of baristas—with some larcenous help from Joy’s father, I assume.” He paused. “Is Clare with them now?”

Through gritted teeth, Quinn answered, “Not all of them.”

“I take it from your constipated reply that your fiancée is alone with her ex-husband.”

“You always were a smart detective, Franco.”

“I also take it that you’re about to get between them—”

“As fast as possible.”

“So, what do you want from me, boss?”

“Two things. First, I want you to break the news to Joy about her mother’s hospital escape. Tell her there’s no reason to be alarmed. Clare is safe, and Joy will see her soon. If she wants to help her mother, she should not come to New York. Tell her to remain in DC, and act like she knows nothing about Clare’s hospital breakout.”

“Why do we even have to tell Joy?”

“She’ll find out. The Fish Squad has been led to believe that Joy’s father is driving Clare to Washington. Soles and Bass won’t take the time to travel down there. They’ll reach out to locals to search the Village Blend’s DC shop and Joy’s residence. Tell Joy to demand a warrant. That will stall them. Then get out of their way. They’re obviously going to come up empty.”

“Okay,” Franco replied. “And you don’t have to worry about Joy coming back to Manhattan. She’s up to her neck in work. Plus she’s got me here to keep her warm—”

“Not anymore. Sorry, pal. That’s my second favor. I have comp time coming to me, and I may need to take it. That means I want you back on the job on Monday to run the shop.”

“Will do, jefe. No worries.” Despite his words, Franco sounded worried. “I assume you can’t tell me where you are, or where you’re going?”

“The less you know, the better. I don’t want you giving false statements to the DC badges. Avoid the situation completely, if you can, and leave Washington before they get to Joy.”

“I’d rather stick around to make sure things go smoothly.”

“That’s your call.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep my lips zipped.”

“And I’ll be back at the Sixth as soon as I can.” Quinn popped the thermos sitting on the hood of his car and poured the last dregs of the Village Blend coffee into his travel cup. The parting gift came from Madame. Now he wished he had more.

“Any instructions for the team?”

“No, we’re good. Next week should be a quiet one. And you know the job well enough. But if you—or any of our people—need me, then text or call. I’ll get right back to you.”

“You mean you’re keeping your mobile with you?”

“Yes.”

“They can track you, you know?”

“Of course. I have a plan.”

“Fine. Just tell me what to do next week if other people start looking for you,” Franco said. “And by other people, you know I mean the Fish Squad.”

“Soles and Bass can contact me anytime. I’ll be happy to talk with them. But this is the last time you and I will speak openly about Clare. I’m at a pay phone. In the future, I’ll be using my mobile—and any discussions will have to be strictly work related. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“One last thing. Once you know the DC badges have come and gone—empty-handed—I want you to text me.”

“In code, I assume.”

“That’s right. Tell me your friends have left. And if you need to refer to Clare, she’s your cousin, okay?”

“Okay, and, Mike—”

“Yeah, Manny?”

“I really hope you win her back. I was just warming to the idea that we might be in-laws someday.”

Quinn nearly dropped his cup. “It ain’t over till it’s over.”

Franco laughed. “I never really understood that saying.”

“It means I’m not giving up on the woman I love. If her memories of me don’t come back, I’ll be doing whatever I can to get history to repeat.”

“Good luck with that, brother. I don’t envy you.”

“I don’t, either. But thanks, just the same. Right now the odds aren’t in my favor, and I can use all the luck I can get.”