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a span of several weeks, he could work with multiple organizations whose motivations were often harder to discern. He did his best, doing what front-end investigation he could and trusting his gut when he had to. It kept things interesting, and made him realize just how easy he used to have it.
    In less than five minutes, they had the body wrapped and ready to go. At Quinn’s direction, Nate was probing the small bullet hole in the exterior wall. “Went all the way through,” he said.
    “We’ll make a quick sweep of the perimeter. If we can’t find it right away, we’ll forget it.”
    Their van was parked in back next to an old loading dock. The dock itself was sealed off by a chain-link fence, but a few feet away was an unimpeded double door.
    The first thing they did was load their equipment and the stuff they’d left upstairs into the vehicle. Once that was done, they only had the plastic-wrapped body left.
    They expertly carried the package out of the room and down the hall. At the exit, Nate had to lean it against his chest as he opened the door so they could pass through.
    “Hold on,” Quinn said, then moved his hands to get a better grip on the body. “All right.”
    As they stepped outside, Quinn registered a quick, sudden movement in his peripheral vision. But when he turned to look, nothing was there.
    They maneuvered the body into the back of the van, then Quinn leaned over to Nate and whispered, “I think we have company.”
    Nate kept his focus on securing the body so it wouldn’t roll around. “Where?”
    “At the end of the building. I’m going to slip back inside. If we do this right, he won’t see me. What I want you to do is get in the van and drive off. Take the body to Bernie’s like we planned. I want to keep on schedule.”
    “And you?”
    “I’ll meet you at home.”
    “What about the bullet?”
    “Don’t worry about it. Even if someone finds it, they won’t have anything to tie it to.”
    “Got it.”
    Quinn used the open doors of the van to cover his retreat back into the building. Without being told, Nate completed the ruse by closing the van’s doors from inside, and crawling through to the front instead of walking around and getting in through the driver’s side door. There was no way for anyone watching to know that Quinn hadn’t been with him. Quality, intuitive work that emphasized it wouldn’t be long before Quinn would have to either make Nate a full partner or set him free to pursue his own projects.
    Another year, tops. Probably less.
    The crunch of loose gravel as the van pulled away was soon replaced by an eerie silence cut only by the distant drone of the 101 freeway. Most people would have been surprised by the lack of activity so close to downtown. But the warehouse district was one of the most underpopulated parts of Los Angeles. After several quiet minutes passed, Quinn began to consider the possibility that the motion he’d seen had been nothing more than one of the homeless looking for a warm place to sleep.
    More silence.
    Then a sound—no more than a single pebble skipping over the ground.
    There was no second pebble, no sound of footsteps on the gravel. Just that one moment of disturbance in an otherwise deathly still night.
    Quinn eased down the hallway until he reached the doorway of the large open space that had once been the main storage area. He stood in the threshold looking back toward the rear entrance.
    Click .
    A sound that almost wasn’t a sound at all.
    But he’d been waiting for it. The doorknob had been turned.
    Quinn stepped all the way back into the storage room, then leaned forward just enough so he could still see the back door. Nothing happened for thirty seconds.
    Cautious , Quinn thought. Definitely not a street person .
    Then, almost in slow motion, the door began to swing open.
    Quinn pulled completely back into the storage room, then took a quick look around. There was nothing he could hide behind except the door itself.