Vic Cross, PI

Chapter 8

A heavy mist hung over the streets of Arch City when Vic left the Double Majesty. The damp air and her fatigue weighed her down but she was too close to the end to lay down now just yet. She pulled up the frayed collar of her coat and headed to her car. Although she thought she could trust Emerson Gunn to drop his tail, she knew better than to trust her gut when it came to crime lords, even particularly stupid ones. It would take a couple of hours to be sure no one was following but she had the time to spare. Of course she had no intention of going near Anthony Quinn but she didn't want anyone to see her destination until she was sure what she would find there.

After lazily crisscrossing her way through dark back allies and hazy city streets for hours it seemed Gunn was good to his word. The only thing she'd seen regularly were junkies and napping patrolmen. The sun was just beginning to lighten the sky over the city when she parked her car at the already bustling Fred Jager Airfield.

Moving through the terminals she found what she was looking for, a long bank of grey lockers. Halfway down the third row she found locker 72, the key missing and the red 'rented' tag showing. She dug a few coins from her pocket and deposited them in the closest available locker and pulled out the key. It was identical to the one Logan had shown her in his office. It was one small mystery solved but it didn't help much in finding Nicole.

Vic scanned the large departure board for Highline flights scheduled to leave at eight. There were two. Both were on time and not yet boarding but the terminals were too far away from each other for her to watch both. She'd have to take a guess and hope for the best. She picked the destination that felt most like the place a love-sick gang leader would woo his mistress with and found an out-of-the-way corner to watch.

At half-past seven the seats began to fill around her and by quarter till she was beginning to question her choices. If she picked the wrong flight she could be waiting here while her mark was already sipping martinis in first class. Or she could be halfway across the world already, or chained in the basement of Anthony Quinns' estate, or laying in an alley off Kellerman the victim of some random crime. Vic sighed. She was so sure she'd been right but now, in the glare of artificial light and drone of a faceless crowd, she felt a bit ridiculous for her assumptions.

The last call for boarding sounded and people began moving more frantically around her. An elderly woman and her rather severe-looking helper rose from a seat near her. The old woman's shawl covered her head and the shoulders of her shabby dress. A hint of red under her hem caught Vic's eye and she laughed.

"Hello, Mrs. Quinn." The woman gave a start even as the younger tried to pull her along. "It's alright. I'm not working for your husband."

It was Nicole Quinn's companion that finally spoke up, "if you are not of the police then you have no right to detain us." She was a small woman with a heavy accent and upon closer inspection, very beautiful. Vic could see she had tried hard to cover it but her tight bun and oversize clothes only worked from a distance. Her striking eyes and high cheekbones were harder to hide up close.

"Nadia Meriaz?"

"That is not my name," she said defensively, "I have documents to prove it." Nicole Quinn laid a hand on Nadia's arm before she could continue.

"It's alright," she abandoned her stoop and turned to address Vic, "if you are not the police, then who are you, and what do you want? I have no money to give if you were hoping for a bribe." She spoke forcefully but there was an edge of panic in her voice.

"My name is Vic Cross, PI. I was hired to find you by an...interested party," Vic smirked.

"I believe it was not my husband. I doubt I'd still be conscious if you were in his employ."