Panic churned her guts. She sank down onto the couch. Okay, she thought, this is the reality of the moment. Deep breath and deal. ‘Um, who is this man I’m supposed to find and who is it I’m working with?’
‘I love the smell of cooperation in the morning,’ Anna Tremaine said. ‘You’re very good at making last- minute travel arrangements, darling. I’ll let you meet him at the airport. His name is Sam Capra. He can tell you the details.’
‘Anna, is Taylor all right?’
‘Perfectly fine. Asleep on a blanket.’
Leonie felt fear like ice pierce her skin. She forced herself to listen intently. Anna, or one of her people, must have taken the baby in the past couple of hours, while she was absorbed in her work, or dozing at her desk. Which meant that Anna might still be in Las Vegas, or was in a car. She tried to hear the hiss of tire against road on Anna’s side of the phone. She heard nothing. If Anna was pulled over, then there might be traffic as the background noise. A clue that would tell her where Anna was. The rumble of an eighteen-wheeler, a whine of engine passing Anna’s car. She heard nothing. She cursed herself for not listening sooner. But shock had frozen her. She tried to manipulate her memory: force herself into replaying every word of the conversation again. Every nuance. Because if she did what was asked, and her child wasn’t return ed, the person she would be finding and killing was Anna Tremaine.
‘You know not a hair on the head will be hurt,’ Anna said in a babyish sing-song. ‘Haven’t I always been nice to you? Check the email address we used in the past. Details will be there, and final instructions. Pack a bag for a few days. Be at your smartest. Be brave. Do a good job, Leonie. For your child’s sake.’ Then the phone went dead in her hand.
Final instructions? Leonie got up and ran toward the laptop.
16
Las Vegas
I hurried toward the ticket counter at McCarran when a woman stopped me. She was slightly built, auburn- haired, with a full mouth and purple-smudged eyes. She wore jeans and a green blouse and carried a small briefcase and a travel bag. She was pretty but she looked like she’d had a night as rough as mine.
‘Sam Capra?’ Her voice shook slightly.
I nodded.
‘I have your ticket. For the flight to New York. I just bought it for you.’
‘Okay,’ I said. This was the woman who would find Jin Ming. My motivated partner, as Anna had said.
She gave me the ticket. Her hand trembled. Then she looked at me, studied me as if my face were an interesting map, then she turned away from me and went and sat down. The security lines were long but moving.
I followed her. We were being forced together and I did not want anyone else knowing my business; especially when my business involved killing a man. ‘Who are you?’
‘Leonie. I’m supposed to come with you.’ She wiped her nose with a tissue.
‘Why?’
‘To help you find the target.’
‘I don’t need help.’
‘Well, I’m helping you because they have my kid. So you don’t get a vote.’ She said this staring straight ahead, not looking at me.
I sat down next to her. ‘Anna took your child?’
‘Yes. My daughter, Taylor.’ Leonie didn’t look at me. ‘We should go through security, we don’t want to be late for the flight.’
‘You could go to the police.’
‘Not an option.’ She looked past me, at the crowds. People seemed oddly happy and energetic in the Las Vegas airport. Happy to leave because they’d had a great time, or happy that they’d just arrived, flush with money and with promise and ready to spin the wheel.
‘Why not?’
‘Our lives are not each other’s business.’
‘I’m supposed to go on a job with you. I want to know what the hell I’m signing up for.’
‘You’re signing up to do what Anna tells you. She has your kid, too, right?’
I said nothing.
‘I’m sorry. I’m supposed to help you find this guy Jin Ming. We needn’t talk unless we’re discussing him.’ One stray tear of upset tracked her cheek and she wiped it away with quick resolve.
‘How are you going to find him?’
‘There is no place on earth he can hide from me.’ She stood. ‘We should probably go through security. I could use a drink. I really hate flying.’
We had thirty minutes before they would be calling our flight. I followed Leonie to a private lounge where we were admitted by our first class tickets. Inside was a scattering of business types and lushed-up couples, a few keeping the Vegas party going. One guy, lubricated with gin and tonic, complained with his mega-phone voice about having lost ten thousand dollars. I would have traded problems with him.
We sat down in a far corner. A sleek hostess – truly sleek, her hair was gelled back in a severe cut, her dress was silver, she looked like her day job was testing wind tunnels – brought Leonie a large glass of pinot noir and me a whisky, neat.
‘When did your kid vanish?’ I asked.
She took a fortifying sip of the wine. ‘Earlier tonight. Anna, or her people, took her from her crib while I was working in my bedroom. I fell asleep at my computer. I never even heard them in my house.’ The moment her voice started to quake she caught herself.
‘Listen to me.’
She looked at me.
‘Unlike most parents of missing kids, we know exactly what we have to do to get our kids back and we know who has them. We can’t waste mental energy on blame. We have a job to do. Our kids need us.’
She nodded; took another sip of the wine. ‘Wow, do you double as a life coach on weekends?’
‘No. Where’s your husband?’
‘I’m a single mother.’ She watched, past my shoulder, the drunk complainer order another round. ‘Where’s your wife?’
‘Ex. In a coma.’
‘Coma.’
‘Yes. One of Anna’s buddies shot her in the head a few weeks ago.’
She let five seconds pass. ‘That sucks.’
Really, what else do you say? Then she said: ‘I mean, I’m really sorry. I’m not quite myself this evening.’
Of course she wasn’t – she had to be in deep shock. ‘What’s your connection to Anna?’
‘None of your business. I don’t know you, Sam. All I want is my child back. That’s all.’ She rubbed at her jawline, glanced at the clock. She did not want to seem to look at me. Her daughter had been kidnapped only hours earlier. Her self-control was extraordinary. I reached out and touched her hand with my fingertips. Just a reflex. She flinched.
‘We’re on the same side. I’m in your shoes. They have my son, too.’
‘So Anna told me.’ She studied her wine. ‘Do we have to talk beyond finding Jin Ming? Seriously?’
It occurred to me that maybe she was a plant; someone Anna sent along to make sure I killed Jin Ming and didn’t try to use him back as leverage against Novem Soles. I didn’t know if she really had a kid or really had suffered a kidnapping tonight. She could simply be a convincing actress. She could be lying through her teeth. But I couldn’t get anywhere with her if she knew I harbored suspicions. She was supposed to be a panicked mom, I was a desperate father. Let us, I thought, play true to our parts.
