“Got it,” Nate said.
Quinn angled over to the access door Wiley had used and found it unlocked. As soon as he passed inside, he could see her in the distance. When she looked back at him, he kept his pace normal and acted as if he were another mall employee on some random errand. Given that she didn’t race away, he figured his ruse had worked.
About three quarters of the way to the end of the wing, she exited through a doorway on the right.
“Think she just went outside,” he said. “The northeast-facing wall.”
“Pulling into that area right now,” Nate replied.
As Quinn neared the door, he said, “Update.”
“She’s stationary,” Orlando replied. “Hasn’t moved for the last fifteen seconds.”
Quinn could think of only one reason for that. “She’s in a car. Nate, did you get that? She’s—”
“I see her,” Nate said. “A green MINI Cooper.”
“On the move again,” Orlando said.
“That’s because she’s pulling out,” Nate told them. “Am I go with follow?”
“Yes,” Quinn said. “Go!”
Through her binoculars, Gloria surveyed the narrow strip of land Martinez’s techs had narrowed the search area down to.
The mountain valley sat on the windward side of Oahu, northwest of the town of Kaneohe. According to official records, a total of eleven homes were scattered along it, each sitting on multiple-acre lots. Research in DC had run the names of all the owners and known residents, but only a few traffic tickets and one police response to a domestic dispute were kicked back.
By all appearances, just a quiet, if spread out, neighborhood.
She walked back to the sedan where her team was waiting.
“I’ve double-checked the maps,” King said. “The road peters out about a half mile above the valley so there’s only one way in or out.”
“Good,” she said. “We start at the bottom and work our way up. Everyone in.”
Nate and Abraham followed the MINI Cooper east on Haiku Road and then north on Kahekili Highway, never letting the vehicle get more than four cars ahead.
“Relax,” Nate said, sensing Abraham’s tension.
“I am relaxed,” Abraham snapped.
“Really?”
“I mean…it’s just, well, we’re so close.”
Nate couldn’t begrudge him his anticipation. The man had been obsessing about this for seven years.
A few minutes later, the MINI turned onto Kamehameha Highway, but only stayed there for about a minute before turning onto a side road into what seemed a more residential neighborhood.
Nate gave the MINI a little more distance before he took the turn. When he did, he found himself at the top of a slope. The MINI had reached the bottom and was pulling off into what appeared to be a park. Nate angled across the street onto the shoulder and killed the engine.
“Call Quinn,” he said to Abraham. “Tell him where we are. But stay in the car.”
He jumped out before Abraham could respond, and headed down the small hill. Unlike Quinn, he was dressed for the islands, having put on shorts and a T-shirt before they landed. To finish the look, he pulled out a set of earbuds, plugged them into his phone, and started nodding his head to music that wasn’t playing.
When he reached the bottom, he saw that Wiley had pulled into a small parking lot next to the park. A few other cars were there, too — all, including the MINI, empty.
The park itself was not large. There was a basketball court near the parking area, and to the side a grassy area big enough for a decent game of international football. Near the center, close to the road, was a tan cinderblock building that had to be restrooms, and not too far away a sign that read: LAENANI BEACH PARK.
Nate entered the restrooms, going in only far enough so that he was masked by the shadows. There were three people in the park, a woman playing with a dog down at the far end of the grassy area, and two teenage boys shooting hoops. Sandra Wiley was nowhere in sight.
He looked past the parking area, wondering if she had gone into one of the nearby homes. As he swept his gaze back across the park, he noticed the top of someone’s head just beyond the edge of the park across from him.
The beach. It was below the level of the park a good four and a half feet. Needing a better view, he walked around the court to a picnic table near the ocean side and leaned against it.
The person on the beach was indeed Wiley, so he took off his shoes, hopped over the short wall onto the sand, and walked into the water. It was warm and inviting, just the way he liked it.
After a few seconds, he turned and started walking parallel to the land, expecting to see the woman still standing where she’d been, but instead she was heading back to the parking area access way.
What the hell? She was leaving, but without meeting anyone?
Maybe she’d been killing time until she was supposed to meet Desirae somewhere else. Which would mean he needed to get back to his car in a hurry. But wouldn’t she have left her shop later? He stepped out of the water intending to return to the car, but his gut was telling him he was missing something, that Wiley didn’t come here on a whim.
He looked toward the spot where she had been leaning against the wall, and noticed a crack between the blocks running halfway up from the bottom. Nothing special; there were other cracks. But this was the only one that had a spot of white peeking from it.
He looked toward the parking lot. The woman had almost reached her MINI. If he sprinted, he might be able to get back to Abraham before she drove past, but not without her seeing him and likely wondering what he was doing.
He moved back into the water, trusting his instincts, and started walking again. Behind him he could hear the MINI’s engine spring to life, followed soon by the roar of it driving away.
The crack was now only a dozen feet ahead and across the beach. He swung his gaze left and right, taking in the beauty of his surroundings. His pace didn’t falter as he passed the crack. No one would have been able to tell he had the slightest interest in it.
His gamble had paid off. The woman was now unimportant.
Jammed in the crack was a white envelope.
CHAPTER 31
Orlando flipped the page and stared at the words without actually reading them.
As soon as she and Quinn caught up to Nate and Abraham, she had taken over observation duty and was now sitting at the picnic table, reading a trade paperback copy of Wool by Hugh Howey that Abraham had been carrying around.
Since she’d moved into position, only two other people had ventured onto the beach, neither coming close to the crack containing the envelope.
“It’s starting to get dark,” she whispered without moving her lips. After the sun set, pretending to read would no longer be a viable ruse.
“You’ve got at least ten minutes,” Quinn said.
“Maybe we’ve already been made.”
“Let’s hope not.”
She let the appropriate amount of time pass and turned the page again.
“Car,” Nate said. He and Abraham had moved into the parking lot of the Episcopal church at the top of the rise. “Turning onto Laenani Drive now.”
“I see it,” Quinn said. “And old Jeep CJ7. Dark blue. Black hardtop. Pulling into the parking lot. Hold on…okay, got the license.” He read off the number.
“Running it now,” Nate said.
Quinn took up commentary again. “Door’s opening. I have…a woman exiting. She’s the right age but her hair’s black and long. Don’t have a good angle on her face so can’t say for sure. Heads up, Orlando. She’s headed your way.”