She mumbled something under her breath as she crossed over to the bed.
“I didn’t catch that,” he said.
She looked back at him. “I said, I won’t run.”
He’d expected her to be angry and uncooperative when she came out of the bathroom, but that wasn’t the case at all.
“Look, Danielle, I know this—”
“Dani,” she said. “Call me Dani.”
“Okay, Dani.” He paused. “I know this hasn’t been easy. I know whatever secret you’re holding you don’t want to share. That’s fine. I get it. But there are other people out there right now trying to find us…trying to find you. If there’s anything you can tell us that might give us an idea of what’s going on here, it would help us know what to do. We’re kind of operating in the dark.”
Her gaze turned to the floor and she seemed momentarily lost in thought. “You should have left me with the other women.”
“That would have made it even easier for these people to find you.”
She shrugged, her eyes still on the carpet.
“Let me ask you something. Have you ever heard of a woman called The Wolf?”
Dani became very still.
“Who is she?” he asked.
She shrugged again.
“Did Mr. Black tell you The Wolf was the one who hired him to grab you?”
She finally looked at him, her eyes narrowing slightly. “He did, but how did you know that?”
“His partner told me.”
“His partner?” she asked. “Mr. Red?”
Quinn gave her a quick description of Platt.
“You talked to him?” she asked.
“I paid him a visit while you were…sleeping.”
“Did you kill him?”
“He was still breathing when I left, but I doubt that lasted very long.”
“Good. He was a son of a bitch.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“He wanted to, but Mr. Black wouldn’t let him. I could hear him with the others, though. Whatever you did to him, he deserved worse.”
“He told me that Mr. Black was trying to get a location out of you.”
Dani tensed.
“That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?”
She stared at him but said nothing.
“How long have you been in hiding?”
For a moment she didn’t move, and then her lips parted. “A long time.”
“Then you know the people looking for you aren’t just going to give up.”
“I know.”
The bouts of indigestion had started around the time they reached Portland, and had only increased in duration as they headed east. Orlando had taken an antacid but that hadn’t done a thing.
She touched her stomach. “How about shifting a few inches to the right?” she said.
The baby was less than cooperative. Orlando hoped that wasn’t an indication of future behavior.
She grabbed a couple more of the chewable antacid tablets and shoved them in her mouth before returning her attention to her computer.
Since she hadn’t received any facial matches for Danielle, she had been concentrating on learning more about what had happened to Helen Cho. If she could identify the kidnappers, they might lead her to who had hired Ricky Orbits or perhaps another group looking for the girl.
It took her about forty-five minutes of hacking into security systems and spot checking cameras in the neighborhood around Helen’s office, but she finally found a feed from two properties down that had captured the kidnapping.
Because of the distance and angle, the image detail wasn’t the greatest, but the footage was sharp enough to show the gist of what had happened. The jackpot came when the getaway car drove right past the camera, giving Orlando an excellent view of not only the vehicle and its license plate, but also of the two men inside.
She grabbed images of each man, uploaded them to the facial recognition interface, and started the searches. Like with Danielle’s picture, there was no telling how long it would be before she received any results.
Knowing it was a waste of time, she ran a trace on the license plate anyway. It was not a match for the car the men had been driving.
Leaning back, she rubbed her eyes with one hand, and her indigestion spot with the other.
“You work too hard. You need rest.”
Mrs. Vo was twisted around in her chair, looking at Orlando.
“I’m okay,” Orlando said.
“Not okay. Computer all the time not good for baby.” Mrs. Vo pushed off her chair and moved over to the kitchen. “You need sleep. Food, too, I think. What you want to eat?”
“I’m fine. Really.”
“Not say again. Not fine. You be mother again soon. You need take care.” Nodding, she said, “I heat up pork chop, okay?”
Without waiting for a response, she opened the refrigerator.
Orlando would have told her she didn’t need to do that, but in truth, one of Mrs. Vo’s pork chops sounded great.
“You lie back on seat,” Mrs. Vo said. “I wake you when ready.”
Orlando closed her computer, thinking a little rest wouldn’t be such a bad idea, but as soon as she lay down, her phone rang.
With a sigh, she started to push herself back up, but Mrs. Vo said, “No, no, no. Sleep!” and snatched the phone off the table.
Orlando thought she was only moving it out of reach, but Mrs. Vo said, “This Quinn?….No, cannot talk. She tired…she fine, she fine. Just need sleep. She pregnant….Yes, I know you know, but cannot—”
Orlando had shoved herself up. “Let me talk to him.”
Mrs. Vo waved at her to lie back down and said into the phone, “I have her call you back.”
“Mrs. Vo, give me the phone,” Orlando said.
“I don’t know how long,” Mrs. Vo said to Quinn. “One hour. Two hour. Maybe morning. Okay?”
Struggling to her feet, Orlando said, “Mrs. Vo, please.”
The woman huffed before handing over the cell. “You need sleep. Not talk long,” she said. With another huff, she returned to preparing the food.
“Hey,” Orlando said into the phone.
“What was that all about? Are you feeling all right?” Quinn asked.
“I’m fine. She’s just being overprotective, that’s all.”
“Are you sure? Do you need to see a doctor?”
“Quinn, relax. Nothing’s wrong.” As if taunting her, her indigestion chose that moment to flare back up. She turned so Mrs. Vo wouldn’t see her wince.
“What?” Quinn asked.
“What what?” she asked back.
“It sounds like you’re in pain.”
She hadn’t realized she’d made any noise. She rubbed a hand across the same spot as before, willing the burning sensation to cease. “You’re hearing things.”
“Maybe you’re in labor.”
“I’m not in labor.”
“You can’t be sure.”
“Of course I can be sure. Don’t you think I’d know if I was in labor or not? This isn’t my first time, remember?”
A second of silence. “You’re sure?”
“I’m about to hang up on you.”
“Okay, okay. Sorry.”
She lowered herself back onto the bench seat, a loud exhale escaping as she finished. Before Quinn could react, she said, “Not labor! Just sitting down. I’m fat. It isn’t easy.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“But you were going to.”
His non-response confirmed she was right.
“Where are you?” she asked.
“Walla Walla. And you?”
“Somewhere along the Columbia River. If you wait, we can meet up with you in a few hours.”
“Absolutely not. I’m uncomfortable enough with you following us,” he said. “In fact, I was thinking it would be a good idea for you to go back to Portland and wait there.”
“No way. You may need help.”