Who Is Brian Quinn?

Accident - Body in a Tree - Hot Cops - Tooth Gun

"Mannie, I found her." Karl lay spread out in the back seat of my car reading Bernie's book, Lost World of Reggie.

"Who?" I gripped the steering wheel trying not to listen, hoping Nina wouldn't be too mad I'd left her in jail all afternoon and all evening.

"Genevieve. I found her."

"What are you talking about?" I turned and Karl sat up.

"Listen to this," he began reading.

Reggie awoke surrounded by darkness. Putting his hand to his face he felt a sticky warm substance around his nose and mouth. Blood. He opened his eyes and attempted to take in the situation. His car sat backwards, wedged in a ditch off the side of the highway. The only light came from the moon, hanging full and pale overhead. He tried the door. It swung open at an angle, creaking loudly, cutting the stillness of the night. He got out and stood looking around at the wide empty fields spreading out around him. He could hear the faint rustling of leaves at his back, the woods bordering the river. The dime shape of a farmhouse sat to his right. To his left he could make out the dark outline of the other car. A long sedan sitting on its side.

What had happened? he rubbed his face. A car, headlights, swimming towards him over the road, veering crazily into his lane. And then he was spinning, the world tumbling around him, the sound of crunching metal, shattering glass and after that, silence. Drunk driver, he thought. Must've been. He sighed and walked to the other car. Ducking down he peered in through the dark sideways windshield. Something moved. He stepped back and hoisted himself up on the side passenger door now pointing skyward and reached in through the empty window.

He felt a smooth thin arm. A girl. He pulled her out, first an arm then a shoulder then her head. She was like a doll, sagging in his arms, her face cool and clear. Grasping her under the shoulders he dragged her out and down to the pavement. The moon glanced off her cheeks, her hair mussed and tangled from the crash. Reggie ran his hands along her torso feeling for blood or wounds. The girl moaned and moved her head.

Reggie lowered his head to smell her breath. No liquor, he thought. "Just plum crazy," he whispered to himself.

"No," she whimpered, eyes still shut.

Reggie peered at her. "No, what?" he said.

"Not crazy," she opened her eyes. They shone a deep hazel, "Not crazy." After a pause, "Quinn," she whispered.

Karl stopped reading and sat behind me breathing.

"Really?" I said. "It's her?"

"Mannie, it has to be. Who else? Hazel eyes, face like a doll, come on. It's her. And she said the name Quinn."

I took a deep breath. "That doesn't mean anything, Karl. I mean, maybe it's her, maybe it's not."

I could see Karl in the rearview mirror shaking his head.

"Okay," I said. "So what if it is her? What do we do? We can't help her. Quinn controls the whole thing."

"Maybe," quipped Karl. "But look, if she's in this book now," he paused, thinking, sitting back against the seat. "It's all too complicated," he muttered. "It's too much, Mannie. Like a novel that's taken a bad turn, gone sour, or just plain nutty."

"I know what you mean," I said tersely. "Bernie was no help. Seemed pretty cracked."

"No kidding."