Free The Buried by Brett Battles Page B

“We’re going downstairs.”
    He motioned for Nate to go first and then he followed. The girl took her time, but eventually made her way down.
    Quinn picked up the remote control and switched on the TV. Like before, the news was all about the events at Edmondson’s house. The girl watched, rapt, inching closer and closer until she was standing next to Quinn. After another update from the reporter at the hospital, he hit the mute button.
    Danielle blinked and looked at him. “All right. So you did let them go. You still have me, though.”
    “We do.”
    “Why?”
    “There’s the big question. Why don’t you tell me?”
    “I don’t know what you mean.”
    “Why would our client tell us to free the others but hold on to you?”
    She shrugged. “Why don’t you ask him?”
    “Her. And she’s gone MIA.”
    A hint of surprise in her eyes. “Then, then…you should probably let me go, too.”
    “I wish it was that easy. Until I know why she wanted you, I can’t do anything.”
    She straightened, reasserting her defiance. “Sorry. Can’t help you.”
     “It would make things easier if you told us.”
    “If you’re looking for the easy method, why don’t you beat it out of me?”
    “No one’s going to do that.”
    “Right. You’re going to be all polite and nice and respectful. And then you’ll hand me over to your missing client when you find her. What do you think she’ll do?” She stared at him. “Torture me now or later, it’s the same damn thing.”
    “You’re not going to be tortured.”
    Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t promise something you can’t guarantee.”
    She was right, of course. He had no idea what Helen’s intentions were. That bothered him. He liked the girl’s spirit, and his intuition was telling him she wasn’t an enemy.
    “If you don’t want to talk, I’m not going to push,” he said.
    “Prefer to leave it to them, huh?”
    He turned to Nate. “Take her back to her room.”
    As she was led away, Quinn lowered himself onto the couch. There had to be some other way to learn what was going on. He ran everything that had happened through his mind again.
    What about Samuel Edmondson?
    Sure, the creep was dead, but he couldn’t have been acting alone. The girl from cell one had mentioned others coming for them. If Quinn found one of Edmondson’s associates, he might find his answers.
    Usually he’d set Orlando to the task of tracking people down, but until Daeng joined her, he’d rather she focus on her own survival. Luckily she wasn’t the only one he could turn to for help.
    The Mole answered in his typical, oddly patterned monotone. “It’s a little…early.”
    “Sorry. Didn’t mean to get you out of bed,” Quinn said.
    “I did not say I…was out of…bed.”
    It would take a while for Quinn to get that image out of his head. “I need your help.”
    “Of course you…do. What…is it you need?”
    There had been a time when the Mole was a pain in the ass to deal with, but since Quinn had helped rid him of someone who’d been taking advantage of the Mole for years, things had changed. Now the Mole’s monotone didn’t come with quite the same amount of contempt as it had before.
    “Are you familiar with what’s going on in Seattle?”
    “I…am familiar with many…things…going…on in Seattle.”
    “I’m talking about the women who were missing.”
    “The Edmondson matter.”
    “Yes.”
    “It was only a…matter of time.”
    “What do you mean? Do you know something about it?”
    “Not…exactly.”
    “That’s not a no.”
    “You’re right.”
    “For God’s sake, can we not play twenty questions and you just tell me what you do know?”
    “Not on the news…yet, but my private channels…tell me…he had several…holding cells in his…basement.”
    “Six,” Quinn said.
    A pause. “Maybe…you know…more than I.”
    “We’re the ones who found the place and tipped off the police.”
    “Interesting.”
    “You are now the only one