Everyone would be happy in the end.
Well, except for Quinn.
After Quinn told Nadine about Eli Becker and their encounters with the people from McCrillis International, she finally agreed to tell them what she knew.
Yes, Desirae was on one of the Hawaiian islands. Oahu. But where on the island, Nadine did not know.
“How do you contact her?” Quinn asked.
“I don’t.”
“No phone number? No e-mail?”
She shook her head. “We agreed that Terri needed to be her priority. And it would be safer if I didn’t have a number someone could…torture out of me, I guess. She checks in with me every few months.”
“You must have some way to get ahold of her in an emergency.”
Nadine went quiet for a moment before saying, “There is one.”
The method involved an in-person visit to a gift shop on Oahu, and the name of a woman who worked there and could get a message to Desirae.
As Daeng drove them to the airport, Quinn said, “I want you to stay here and keep an eye on Madame Chastain. I don’t think anyone will show up, but just in case.”
“In other words, you don’t want my crutches in your way,” Daeng said with a knowing smile.
“Fifty-five percent what I said, forty-five you.”
Daeng laughed. “It will be my pleasure.”
They were too late to catch a flight to anywhere useful, but since they’d have to connect through one of the major hubs anyway, it made more sense to rent a sedan and drive the seven and a half hours to Toronto so they could catch one of the first flights the next day to the West Coast. By the time they deplaned in Honolulu and rented a car, it was a quarter to three in the afternoon.
The gift shop was located in the Windward Mall in Kaneohe on the other side of Oahu from the capital. After they parked, Orlando pulled comm gear out of her bag and handed a set to Quinn and Nate.
“What about me?” Abraham asked.
Reluctantly she gave him one, too. “But you stay with Nate, understand?”
“Yeah, I know. Stay in the car. It’s becoming my mantra.”
“Tell me about it,” Nate said.
As Quinn put his receiver in his ear, he said, “Letter?”
Orlando pulled the sealed, white envelope out of her bag. The last thing they’d had Nadine do before they left Quebec was write Desirae a note and print the name of the contact on the envelope. Since none of them looked like they could be Desirae’s mother, it was the best plan they could come up with at the time.
“All right,” Quinn said. “Let’s give it a whirl.”
The mall was doing all-right business for a weekday afternoon. The mix seemed to be almost fifty-fifty local and tourist. Two things kept the place from looking like it could be anywhere in the United States. The first was the abundance of men wearing Hawaiian shirts, so many that Quinn felt like he stuck out. The second was the number of stores with Aloha in the title. Among these was the Aloha Kaneohe gift shop.
The store was brightly lit, with tables and displays of pretty much any type of souvenir a visitor might want. Quinn and Orlando entered separately. While Quinn browsed through the displays, Orlando headed to the checkout counter. On her way, she paused in front of a glass cabinet with locked doors.
“Well, looky here,” she said over the radio.
“What is it?” Quinn asked.
“A couple of very familiar-looking tikis.”
Orlando grabbed a hoodie off one of the shelves and a hat off another before entering the checkout line. By the time she reached the cashier, Quinn had moved over to the postcard rack not too far away.
“Aloha,” the cashier said. “Did you find everything you were looking for?”
“All set,” Orlando replied. “Thank you.”
The woman rang her up and Orlando paid with cash. As the bag containing her purchases was handed to her, Orlando said, “Oh my gosh, I almost forgot why I came in here in the first place. Does…”—she looked at the envelope—“Sandra Wiley still work here?”
“Ms. Wiley? Sure, she’s the manager.”
“Is she here right now?”
“Should be. Would you like me to check?”
“That would be wonderful.”
The cashier picked up a phone from the counter behind her. After she finished her call, she said, “You can wait by that door over there. She’ll be right out.”
As Orlando headed over, Quinn repositioned himself again to stay close and pulled out his phone. The moment the door opened and a thirtysomething woman stepped out, he activated the app on his screen.
“Hi, were you the one looking for me?” the woman asked.
Immediately a large circle appeared on Quinn’s display. It was filled with red dots, each representing a cell phone in range that it had just pinged. There was only one blue dot, Orlando’s phone. Right next to it, corresponding to where the woman was standing, was a red dot. Quinn tapped the dot and all the others disappeared as the app began tracking the woman’s phone.
“Are you Sandra Wiley?”
“That’s right.”
“So nice to meet you,” Orlando said, holding out her hand. “We have a friend in common.”
“We do?” the woman said, shaking Orlando’s hand. “Who?”
“Nadine Chastain.”
The woman looked at first confused, then surprised.
“I was in Montreal for a conference last weekend,” Orlando said as if she hadn’t noticed the woman’s reaction. “Nadine came down to meet me for lunch. So great seeing her again. When I told her I had meetings in Oahu this week, she insisted I stop by here and say hello. Oh!” Orlando reached into her pocket and pulled out the envelope. “She also wanted me to give you this.”
“What is it?” the woman asked, not taking it.
Orlando shrugged. “Just a note, I think.” She laughed uncomfortably. “I didn’t watch her write it.”
Wiley hesitated a moment longer before her full smile returned. “Of course,” she said, taking the envelope. “Thank you.”
“No problem. So…um…nice shop. Have you been here long?”
“A while. I’m sorry. I do apologize, but I need to get back to work. I hope you understand.”
“Of course. Have a great day.”
“You, too.”
The woman disappeared back the way she’d come.
The moment the door was closed, Orlando whispered, “I don’t think her good-bye was sincere.”
Quinn huffed but added nothing as he watched the screen.
The red dot representing Sandra Wiley’s cell phone had moved twenty feet beyond the door and stopped. Her office? That seemed logical. The dot flashed yellow, indicating the woman had sent a text. No way to know what it said or who it was sent to, but given the timing, Quinn had little doubt it had gone to Desirae.
As the dot moved again, he said, “She’s on the go.”
Instead of heading back into the shop, though, Wiley went in the opposite direction and made a sharp left turn.
“Service corridor heading north,” he said. He hurried out of the store to where Orlando had repositioned.
So that he didn’t have to focus on the phone, he handed it to her and began walking quickly through the mall, parallel to the path the woman was taking. Keeping his eyes on the shops, he searched for an unmarked entrance to the employees-only area.
Before he found one, Orlando said, “She’s descending.”
He spotted the nearest escalator and took it down to the ground floor.
“Which way?” he whispered, as he reached the central area where the three wings of the mall met.
“North…no, no, changing to northwest.”
Quinn looked toward the wing that jetted off to the right, just in time to see Wiley pass through another doorway to a service corridor.
“Nate,” Quinn said. “Wherever she’s going, it should be off the northwest wing somewhere.”