“There’s a driveway on the other side of the road, fifty yards down,” Daeng said. “That’s where she is.”
“Anyone with her?”
Abraham shook his head. “No other cars, and the only person I saw inside was her.”
“You saw?” Orlando said.
“Someone had to check, and Daeng’s in no condition to sneak around, so who else was it going to be?”
Orlando looked over at Daeng, skeptical.
But Daeng shrugged and said, “When he’s right, he’s right.”
“Was she calling anyone?” Quinn asked.
“Not when I was watching,” Abraham said. “She was just pacing back and forth in the big room at the back of the house.”
Quinn had a pretty good idea why she hadn’t called the authorities, but he thought she would have reached out to her daughter. The people Desirae might send in response were what worried Quinn.
“Entrances?” he asked.
“Main out front. Three sets of sliding glass doors on a high deck out back. Also an attached garage so there’s probably a way in through there.”
Quinn quickly told Abraham and Daeng what they’d found in Nadine’s basement.
After he described the trundle bed and the girls’ clothes, Abraham said, “Do you think—”
“There’s no way to know anything right now,” Orlando jumped in. “That’s why we need to talk to Desirae’s mother.”
Abraham reached for the door. “Let’s go.”
“Abraham,” Quinn said. “We don’t know how she’s going to react when she sees us, but I promise we’ll bring you in as soon as the situation is settled. Deal?”
“So I stay,” he growled. “Again.”
“I’m sorry.”
Abraham shrugged in annoyance. “I obviously have no say so whatever you want.”
Quinn, Orlando, and Nate headed back out into the cold night.
As a gust of wind blew down the road, Nate said, “Times like this make me long for Isla de Cervantes. I mean, other than the electric shocks and the whippings.”
“You’ll excuse me if my memory of the place isn’t quite as fond,” Orlando said.
Quinn glanced at her. She looked even more worn out than she had when they’d met her at the airport.
“You want to sit this one out?” he asked. “Nate and I can handle it.”
She sneered. “Right. Who do you think Desirae’s mom is going to want to talk to? You guys or me? I’m fine. Really.”
The driveway led down to a large, two-story chalet. Most of the windows were dark, the only illumination coming from the rear of the house like Abraham had said. The garage off to the right was of the two-car variety, with a wide automatic door along the front and a regular-sized one on the side near the back. They headed toward this last one.
After Orlando checked for an alarm — there was none — Quinn did the honors of picking the lock. No cars were inside, only a workbench and some storage boxes, and, as hoped, a door into the house. Quinn put his ear against it, but the only thing he could hear was the low drone of the home’s heating system.
The lock was an easy pick. On the other side was a laundry room with an open doorway at the other end. He crossed through the space and peered into the other room, which turned out to be a kitchen.
Just as he stepped across the threshold, his phone vibrated twice in quick succession, letting him know he’d received a text. Whatever it was, it would have to wait.
There were two exits to the kitchen, one to the right leading to the back portion of the house where Abraham had seen the woman, and one to the left into a dining room. He signaled to Orlando and Nate what he wanted to do. Orlando nodded and headed to the door on the right, while he and Nate entered the dining room and made their way to the corridor at the far side.
They moved into the hallway, which bisected the house front to back, and inched as close as they could to the back room without entering it. The woman was pacing in front of a large leather couch, lost in thought.
Quinn looked over at Orlando, who was peeking around the kitchen doorway, and gave her the go signal.
Keeping her movement slow and smooth, she stepped into the room and said in a soft voice, “Madame Chastain?”
The woman whirled around in panic. “Non! S'il vous plait! Laissez-moi tranquille!” She backed toward the exit where Quinn and Nate were.
Nate moved to block the doorway, but Quinn grabbed him and shook his head. She was already frightened enough. He didn’t want to make it worse by letting her discover they were there yet.
“We’re not going to harm you,” Orlando said in French. “We just want to talk.”
“I don’t have anything to say to you,” the woman said. “Go. Get out!”
“We need to talk to your daughter,” Orlando said.
“She’s…she’s dead,” the woman said, trying to sound defiant. “Long time ago.”
“You’re trying to protect her. I get that. I would, too, if she was my daughter. But we don’t want to hurt her. We just need to talk to her.”
The woman was only a few steps from Quinn and Nate. “I said she’s dead!”
“She’s not dead, Madame Chastain. She goes by the name Desirae Rosette, or at least she did.” There must have been confirmation on the woman’s face because Orlando said, “She has the girl, doesn’t she? She has Tessa.”
Nadine nearly tripped over her own feet as she turned to run out of the room.
Quinn swore under his breath as he was forced to step out in front of her and grab her.
She screamed.
“Take it easy,” Quinn said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
She pounded her fists against his chest as she tried to squirm out of his arms.
“Let me go,” she said. “Let me go.”
“As soon as you calm down, I will. I promise. Nothing’s going to happen to you. My friend was right. We’re only here to talk.”
“You’re lying,” she said, the defiance back, real this time. “She said you might come someday. That you would try to get me to talk about her. Well, you won’t get anything from me!”
While Quinn had been corralling Nadine, Orlando had hurried over. “Why don’t we sit down? If you don’t want to talk, then don’t talk.”
“Right,” Nadine said. “I’m sure that’s how it’s going to work. Then you…what? Start cutting me up?”
“No one’s going to cut you up,” Quinn said.
In a fit of rage and terror, she began twisting even faster as she screamed for him to release her.
Quinn sensed someone move in behind him.
“Let her go, Johnny,” Abraham said.
Quinn held on to the woman for a moment longer before releasing his grip. The woman looked back and forth as she searched for some way out, her chest heaving with each breath.
“I told you to wait in the car,” Quinn said to Abraham.
“If I may,” Abraham said, gently trying to push Quinn to the side.
The sound of crutches moved through the dining room and then Daeng appeared beside Nate. Quinn gave him a what-the-hell look as he kept himself between the woman and the exit behind him.
“Sorry,” Daeng said. “It’s not like I could stop him. I did text you.”
“Please,” Abraham said, his hand still on Quinn’s arm.
Reluctantly, Quinn moved to the side.
“May I call you Nadine?” Abraham said to the woman as he stepped around Quinn.
“You may not,” she shot back.
“All right. Madame Chastain, then. My name is Abraham Delger, and my friends here are Orlando, Quinn, Nate, and Daeng. I assure you we mean you no harm at all. Nor do we mean any harm to your daughter, or…the girl.” Abraham’s reassuring tone seemed to have a calming effect on the woman. “Would it be okay if we sat down?”