The Deceived by Brett Battles Page A

cardboard box. Behind him trailed the woman Quinn had talked to. She was carrying another suitcase. Following her were two children. One was the girl he’d seen in the window. The other was a boy, maybe a few years older. Husband, wife, and kids? It seemed so.
    Quinn pulled out his cell phone, switching it to camera mode. His wasn’t the normal, off-the-shelf model. It had only come available in the last few months, and even then you had to have connections and be willing to pay the price. But it was worth it. The camera alone was invaluable. Six megapixels and a zoom that provided sharp, clear images few consumer cameras could match.
    As he took pictures of the man and the woman loading their stuff into the back of the van, the woman said something to the kids. Though Quinn couldn’t hear the exact words, he picked up the tone— impatient, even urgent.
    When the kids didn’t move quick enough, the man barked, “Now.”
    That got more than just the kids moving. One of the suits who had been in the Volvo earlier emerged from the house and walked briskly over to the van.
    Quinn raised the lens again, snapping off another shot as the new man grabbed the father by the arm, whipping him around so they were face-to-face. There was a quick, one-sided exchange, then the suit let the man go and returned to the house.
    The man hesitated a moment, his eyes on the front door as if he expected someone else to emerge. After a few seconds, he climbed into the van with the rest of the family and started the engine.
    They pulled out of the driveway and headed down the street, right past Quinn’s position. As they passed, Quinn caught a glimpse of the little girl looking out the window. For a second, it seemed as though she had seen him, but if she did, her attention was soon drawn to something else.
    With the van gone, Quinn moved closer to the house, finding a spot directly across the street, next to a Jeep Cherokee.
    At first there was nothing new to see, all activity apparently taking place deeper inside the house. Quinn looked from window to window. The only one with its drapes still open was the one in the living room. But even that didn’t last long. Soon one of the suits walked up to one end of the window, and a moment later the curtain moved across the glass, cutting off Quinn’s only view of the inside.
    Quinn continued his vigil. Twenty minutes passed, then thirty, then forty.
    After almost an hour, lights began switching off all over the house until only the porch light and the floods in front of the garage remained on.
    Two of the suits stepped out the front door and headed over to the Volvo. Quinn raised the lens of his camera and took several shots. He got good close-ups of each man, recognizing the shorter suit as one of the guys searching the gas station. He couldn’t be sure about the taller one, but when the man climbed into the driver’s seat, Quinn assumed he must have been the one behind the wheel earlier, too.
    The garage floods went out, then a few seconds later so did the porch light. Quinn could barely make out the front door as it opened. Two shadowy forms emerged. One had to be the other suit who’d been following him, but he didn’t recognize the other one. His hair was light, blond probably. And he carried himself in a way that made Quinn surmise he was the one in charge. Like his friends, though, he was also wearing a suit.
    When the doors to the Volvo opened, an interior light came on, illuminating the two men as they climbed in.
    Quinn was ready. He took two quick pictures before they closed the door and the light went out. The impression Quinn got from all of them was the same. Cool, confident, in shape.
    Ex-military. Maybe even elite.
    And definitely trouble.
    Quinn contemplated following the Volvo again. But he decided the house was more important.
    What had been going on inside? And the family, what were they all about? The whole situation was more than just bizarre.
    After sending the photos