Off the Clock Read Online Free Page A

restrained.
    Quinn set the printout on the counter. “You’re going to sign this,” he told Nick, then held the pen out to him.
    “What is it?” Nick asked.
    “Does it matter?”
    Nick’s gaze flicked from Quinn to the other men and back, then he took the pen awkwardly in his hand. “I don’t know if I can write like this,” he said. “Maybe if you take this tape off.”
    “I think you’ll do just fine.”
    Donahue heaved Nick to his feet and helped him get to the counter. The printout was a letter to Nick’s wife.
     
Carol,
By now you’ve seen the pictures, so there is no need to explain why I left. You don’t have to worry about me coming back, either. I won’t. The only thing I’m taking with me is some clothes. I’m sorry. I’m very sick, and can no longer pretend that I am not.  The last thing I want is to hurt you any further.  You will never hear from me again. I promise you that.
     
    Nick read the letter, then looked at Quinn. “You’re going to show her the pictures?”
    “No,” Quinn said. “You are. I was never here. Now sign it.”
    “You’ve got to be kidding me. I’m not going to—”
    Quinn pulled Nick’s gun out of his jacket pocket. “Sign it.”
    Looking like he was about to cry, Nick signed the letter.
    “Good,” Quinn said.
    He took a piece of tape from the dispenser he’d brought in for the pictures, and hung the letter on the mirror below the gallery of Nick’s exploits. He then removed the picture of Nick and his wife, folded it, and put it in his pocket. The doctor probably wouldn’t want a visual reminder of her mistake hanging there with the other shots.
    “Time to go,” Quinn said.
    “Go where? Where are you taking me?” Nick asked.
    “Away.”
    Quinn opened the box Howard had given him. Inside was a preloaded hypodermic.
    Nick seemed to be stunned into silence.
    “This is a little something we call IRBD,” Quinn said.
    “No. Please. I’ll do whatever—”
    “That’s short for ‘I’d Rather Be Dead,’ ” Quinn went on. “See, this is going to paralyze you for the next thirty-six hours. During that time, you’ll be aware of everything that’s going on, but unable to do anything about it. The unfortunate side effect is, you’ll permanently lose your voice.”
    “Oh God! Why?”
    “It’ll make traveling a little easier for you.”
    “Where are you taking me?”
    “Someplace where others will deal with you.”
    Before Nick could say another word, Quinn plunged the needle into his arm. After that, it was only a few seconds before the drug took effect.
    •  •  •
    For the second night in a row, Quinn went to Taste of Siam for dinner. This time, when he came in, Natt eyed him warily from the bar.
    “ Sawadee khrap ,” he said to her as he sat down.
    “ Sawadee ka ,” she replied somewhat reluctantly.
    “Singha, please. And I’ll go for the pad kee mao tonight. Extra spicy.”
    “Okay, Khun Jonathan. Whatever you want.”
    As she retreated to the kitchen, Quinn looked around the restaurant. It was a little earlier in the evening than it had been the previous night, so there were fewer customers. The karaoke hadn’t started up, and he didn’t see Ice anywhere. For a few minutes he wondered if maybe she had the night off or had decided not to come in at all, worried that Nick might return. Then he heard the restroom door open at the back of the other half of the restaurant, and a few seconds later, she walked down the aisle to the karaoke machine.
    He watched as she started setting everything up. When she finally noticed him, she froze, a worried look on her face. Apparently Natt had told her about their conversation outside the kitchen. He waved her to come over, but she stayed where she was.
    “It’s okay,” he said. “Just for a minute.”
    Natt came out of the kitchen, grabbed a beer out of the cooler and carried it over to Quinn. Seeing her friend behind the bar seemed to break Ice’s resistance, and she came over and