“You guys all right?” he asked.
“We’re good,” Quinn replied.
Quinn saw that Nate noticed the missing cuffs from Dani’s hands, but his partner said nothing as they shoved the bags into the trunk.
Dani hopped into the back, but before Quinn climbed in, Nate said, “Do you hear that?”
Quinn cocked his head and listened. A noise in the distance. For a second, he thought it was a big rig heading their way, but then he realized that wasn’t it at all.
A helicopter, and by the deep rumble of the motor, a big one.
“We need to go,” Quinn said and jumped into the car.
Orbits couldn’t hear the helicopter over the noise of his own engine. He weaved in and out of neighborhoods, hoping to spot the Altima again. He finally found it ten minutes later, abandoned at the side of the road.
He fired off a string of curses, his head feeling like it was going to explode. He yanked out his phone.
“I need you to check the highway again,” he told Donnie. “Start twenty minutes ago, both directions. I have no idea what kind of car they’re in, but there can’t be that many on the road right now so I expect to hear from you within ten minutes.”
“I’ll do what I—”
Orbits hung up, coming within a hair’s width of throwing his phone against the dash.
The next time Quinn and company were in his sights, he vowed they would not escape.
Using the same method they’d employed in Yakima, Stevens’s team discovered the Audi in the parking area behind a strip mall. Like the Cherokee, it had been abandoned.
Stevens called his tech liaison. “They’ve either switched again or are hiding somewhere here in town,” he said. “Check satellite feeds from the last seven hours and see if there’s any useful traffic-cam footage.”
Bianca glanced up at the sky as the helicopter flew overhead.
That would be Morse’s people, a small, quasi-independent organization that was ultimately just another cog in the US intelligence machine. There could be only one place the helicopter was headed. The same place she was — Walla Walla. Her information contacts had identified the town as the last known location of the vehicle carrying the two men who, she’d been assured, would have the girl. Apparently Morse’s people were on to them, too.
Unfortunately, the helicopter would get there soon, while she still had a good forty minutes of driving ahead of her. She didn’t let this panic her, though. She didn’t do panic.
Thirty minutes later, a buzz in her ear informed her of an incoming call.
“Zorn,” she said.
“Status update,” her contact reported. “New vehicle. Type: Lexus ES. Color: dark gray. Location: US 12 northeast of Walla Walla, approximately nine miles from your current position.”
That was excellent news. Not only were they still on the run, they were within striking distance.
“Additional item,” the liaison said. “Confirmed sighting of the woman in the car with them.”
“Copy,” Bianca said. Even better news.
“Good hunting.”
The line went dead.
CHAPTER 24
“Mom? Mom, wake up.”
Orlando felt the tug on her leg and wondered if she’d knocked into something. In the dream she’d been having, she was in her house, trying to sneak up on the men who had broken in.
A tug again.
“Mom. Wake up.”
She reached out to grab the guy’s shoulder—
“Mom.”
The dream disappeared.
She opened her eyes and saw Garrett standing at the other end of the bench seat, next to her feet. He helped her sit up.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“A quarter after midnight.”
“What are you doing still awake?”
“Daeng says we’re getting close to the turnoff for Washington. He wants to know what you want to do.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“He needs me, Mom. I’m helping to navigate. So, should we go to Washington or not?”
He seemed to be enjoying himself, so she let his late night slide and thought about his question. Quinn had been very clear that he hadn’t wanted them to get too close, but she knew if she hadn’t been pregnant, he would have asked her to join him.
“Tell Daeng yes to Washington,” she said. “He should head to Walla Walla.”
“Walla Walla? You’re making that up, aren’t you?”
“It’s a real place, honey.”
“No, it’s not,” he said.
“Check the map.”
“Garrett,” Daeng called from up front. “The turnoff’s coming up. What’s the verdict?”
“Go on,” Orlando instructed her son.
He turned to leave, but then stopped and said, “Your computer was dinging for a while so I turned down the volume.” He headed to the cab.
Her laptop was still sitting on the table, her screen open but dark. Despite Mrs. Vo’s insistence that Orlando rest right after she finished eating, she had spent a little time online, checking if using the name Dani instead of Danielle got her any closer to answers. It hadn’t.
She woke the screen, typed in her password, and cringed in pain. Not indigestion this time, but another one of those stupid false contractions. She shot a glance toward the front of the RV to see if anyone had seen her, but the men were all up front watching the road and Mrs. Vo was asleep in her chair.
As the spasm receded, she braced herself for another. When it didn’t come, she turned her attention to her computer.
The beeping Garrett had heard had been triggered by the facial recognition system. She brought the interface forward and saw it didn’t just return a single result but three. She opened the first.
It was a potential match for one of Helen’s attackers, the guy who’d been in the passenger seat of the car. She studied his face, comparing it with the image from the security cam. It looked pretty damn close to her.
The match’s name was Harold Winston, nicknamed Tex. Former military, dishonorable discharge, and three years in mercenary service with a well-known defense security operation before turning freelance.
Definitely sounded like a winner.
Match number two was for the driver. One look at the picture and she knew it was right.
Terry Kuhner. Driving specialist. Five years in prison for being the wheelman on a bank robbery. Scattered work history. Wanted for questioning in connection to several more robberies on the East Coast. His last known location was Chicago six months earlier.
If she could track down these two, she should be able to find out who’d hired them to take Helen. She might even be able to find out where Helen had been taken.
Orlando opened the last match.
The picture that stared back at her was of a woman, aged twenty-three. The recognition software put the match to the photo of Dani at only 53.2 %. The name of the girl the software identified was listed as Marianne Trudeaux. The problem was that the picture was ten years old, which meant Marianne would be in her early thirties now, an age Dani had not reached yet. Orlando did have to admit, however, that there was more than a passing resemblance between the two women. Was it coincidental or was there a connection?
Before immersing herself in finding out more about Marianne, she pinged Quinn’s phone to check his location, knowing he’d wanted to get back on the road by midnight.
A dot appeared on the map sixteen miles east of Walla Walla. She’d thought they’d be farther than that by now. She decided to call him.
“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” he asked.
“I was. Is everything all right?”