Orbits couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that someone had known where he’d taken the girl.
He went over it and over it as they headed south. If someone had found out about his flight from Spokane, the person might have been able to have people in position to follow him when he landed. But he couldn’t see how that was possible. No one had seen him pick up the woman, so how could they have known he’d even gone to Spokane? Maybe they would have eventually figured it out, but he’d have landed and been long gone by then.
After several minutes of mulling it over, his gaze turned to Danielle. There was only one possibility.
Leaning over her, he checked pockets and hems, and patted down her legs and arms. Nothing. He rolled her onto her side and had Parnell hold her there while he searched her back. Still no bug.
He almost gave up, thinking he must have been wrong, when he glanced at her feet. He yanked her shoes off. The tracking chip was underneath the insole of her right shoe. A square hole had been cut into the rubber so it would fit nice and snug.
“Got you,” he said.
He moved up front to the empty passenger seat, rolled down the window, and tossed the chip and both shoes onto the side of the road.
With a laugh, he said, “Whoever you are, you’re out of luck now.”
With Dani’s tracking chip as their guide, Quinn and Nate were able to stay half a mile back as they followed the ambulance.
Quinn had plugged a set of earbuds into his phone to better hear the open line coming from the other vehicle. Unfortunately, what little conversation there had been came from the back of the ambulance, and he could barely make out every third or fourth word.
He leaned forward, concentrating, as a new noise came over the line. It sounded like someone moving around. He closed his eyes and tried to picture what was happening.
Definite movement. Perhaps—
A loud beep in his ear signaled an incoming call.
It was Orlando, so he put the connection with the ambulance on hold, clicked over, and turned off MUTE. “Did you find Winston?”
“We did,” she said. “Did you find Dani?”
“Kind of. They had her in this building but left a little while ago. We’re following.”
“Did you know her new friends just put her on auction?”
Quinn disconnected the earbuds from his phone and switched to speaker so Nate could hear. “Say that again.”
“An auction to buy Dani went live about ten minutes ago.” She filled in what details she knew.
“Any bids yet?” Quinn asked.
“Two were just posted. One for two-point-five million, and the next for four.”
“Does it say anything about how the winner will receive her?”
“No,” she said. “Whoa. First bidder just re-bid. Five million.”
“The ambulance stopped,” Nate said.
“Stopped?” Quinn asked, surprised.
He had pulled a dedicated tracking device out of their kit and propped it in the cup holder. He looked at it. Sure enough, the chip was now stationary. But that didn’t make any sense. They were on the interstate and Quinn and Nate had encountered no sign of slowing traffic.
“I’ve got to go,” he told Orlando, and hung up.
A few seconds later, Nate said, “It’s coming up. Right…about…”
Before he could say “now,” Quinn saw them.
“They found the chip.”
Dani’s shoes were lying on the side of the road, right where the tracking dot had stopped on the display. Though the chip’s loss was unfortunate, it wasn’t the end of the world.
Nate’s phone was still in the ambulance; they could track its location. But because the dedicated tracking device was able to only recognize the signal from homing chips and not from phones, they couldn’t listen in and track the phone at the same time. Still, as long as the others continued to use the ambulance, it would be okay.
Quinn was tempted to have Nate move within visual range, but held off. It turned out to be a smart move when a minute later, the ambulance exited the interstate and randomly worked its way through the local neighborhood before rejoining the main road. Clearly the men had assumed that after ridding themselves of the chip, their pursuers would close in and therefore had attempted to lose them.
Once they were back on the interstate, Quinn had Nate close the gap.
The Imperial Theater was on South Spring, in an area of parking garages, recently converted lofts, and trendy restaurants. It hadn’t always been that way. For decades, most of downtown had played host to only office workers during the day while serving the homeless around the clock. The turn of the century saw the start of a gentrification movement that spit and sputtered for several years before finally beginning to take hold.
The marquee of the Imperial stuck out over the sidewalk like a giant spike. It had been refurbished not long ago but carried no message. The front entrance of the theater was hidden from the street by a wooden wall painted black. Elsewhere such a wall would be covered with posters and graffiti, but this one was not. Orlando knew this had everything to do with who owned the place. No one — not even a wannabe gang member with a spray can — wanted to mess with Thomas Rachett.
“How does one get in?” Ananke asked as they drove by.
“There’s got to be a door off the alley,” Orlando said. With the front walled off and buildings to either side, it was the only option.
“Do we just walk up and knock?”
“No, we don’t just walk up and knock,” Orlando replied, trying to contain her temper. She knew Ananke was only being funny, but Orlando’s sense of humor had a blind spot when it came to the assassin.
She had Daeng pull to the curb a few blocks away, then searched the Internet for info on the building. She turned up old plans from before Rachett had purchased the place. As she studied them, she realized what their choices were.
When she explained what they would have to do, Ananke raised an eyebrow. “So we are going to knock on the door.”
Orlando wanted to punch her in the face.
Two men stood outside the Imperial backstage door — bouncer types, one bald, the other ponytailed, both with more muscles than they would ever need.
They were chatting with each other when Orlando entered the alley, but stopped as they realized she was heading all the way down to them.
When she neared, the ponytailed guy said, “Afternoon, ma’am. Are you lost?”
She stopped and put a hand to her belly. “Whoa. I didn’t expect it to be so hot today.”
“Is there something we can help you with?” Baldy asked.
She took a few steps closer and suddenly leaned forward, panting.
The men moved toward her.
“Are you all right?” Baldy asked, concerned.
“Give me…a second,” she said between breaths.
She stepped past them a few feet and then turned slowly around. The men naturally swiveled to face her, turning their backs to the street entrance, allowing Daeng and Ananke to slip unnoticed into the alley.
“That…was a strong…one,” she said.
“You’re not about to have a baby, are you?” Baldy asked.
“Not supposed to…but…maybe.”
“Maybe I should call nine-one-one,” Ponytail said.
Orlando held up a hand, like she was having another contraction and needed a moment. Finally, she said, “No need to call. It’s not labor.”
Daeng and Ananke each threw an arm around their respective target’s neck and squeezed. Caught off guard, it took the men a moment to react. They twisted side to side, lifting Daeng and Ananke into the air as they attempted to pull the arms from their necks. They would have been more successful if they’d tried to help each other instead, but their instinct for self-preservation was too strong and soon both dropped to the ground, unconscious.