Unlike Rosa.
It could have been that comparison that had frightened her so much when he’d touched her. Rosa had been breakable and they’d broken her. Margaret hadn’t been able to help her.
But she could help Sean Patrick.
She took the phone recorder out of her pocket. It was still running. If she turned it off, it would automatically transmit to Lassiter.
Not yet.
She had to make sure that she’d gotten what she needed from Salva.
Otherwise, she’d have to go through the same nightmare process with Nicos tomorrow. She reversed the recorder while she tried to remember the exact names of the three computer experts that Lassiter had given her. George Bildwan, Carl Montgomery, Simon Zwecker.
Okay, scroll through Salva’s call history and see if any of those names were listed. Or any other name with any notations concerning computers after them.
She started to scroll, not too fast, in case she might miss something. She was already ten minutes into Salva’s list and there were no names she recognized.
So many names … Some were just initials. When you dealt with drug dealers, sometimes you didn’t want them accidentally identified. She hoped to heaven that computer guru wasn’t listed under only initials. All of this might be for nothing if—
Simon Zwecker!
That had been one of the names Lassiter had mentioned.
And Salva had called him two months ago.
Don’t get too excited. He might not be the only expert Salva had hired. Keep going through the history and see if any of the other names pop up.
But her hands were trembling as she carefully went through the rest of the history. None of the other names on Lassiter’s list appeared anywhere in the history. But Simon Zwecker’s name appeared several times over the previous months. And the communication between them had evidently started over two years ago. During that initial period, there was a spurt of daily calls that indicated intense activity.
So it had to be Simon Zwecker.
And Lassiter had to know it was him right now. Would he be able to trace him from this phone interchange? He’d had no problem when he’d tapped her phone. He’d been clever enough to create this small jewel of a device. So trust him. She’d done her part.
Now let him do his.
She pressed the turn-off button that would transmit the recording to Lassiter’s phone.
Santo Domingo
11:50 P.M.
Lassiter heard the soft ping of his text alert as he was striding with Mandell toward his Gulfstream on the tarmac.
Cambry?
He’d phoned him in the car and he’d said he’d check with the office in Silicon Valley and get back to him. But that had been only minutes before and he had—
Not Cambry.
No ID.
Just the designation of the device the message was transmitting from.
LX-40.
“Holy shit.” He stopped on the tarmac and stared down at the text. “My God. Margaret.”
Mandell was gazing at him, puzzled. “What is it?”
“I don’t know.” He moved quickly to the plane and ran up the steps. “You get the plane in the air. I need to go through this list and see if she managed to get us what we need.” He headed for the cockpit. “Though it would be a miracle if she was able to pull it off this soon.”
“It would be a miracle,” Mandell said drily. “You just dropped off that LX-40 late this afternoon. You weren’t even expecting her to pick it up until tomorrow.”
“Margaret thrives on doing the unexpected,” Lassiter said. “And if she actually had that LX-40 in her hands, then she’d do anything in her power to get us what we need. She’s nothing if not determined.” He dropped down in the copilot’s seat and began to scroll through the list. “This is Salva’s call history. She told me once that he’d be the one to set up Nicos’s computer system.…”
“And she thought Salva would be easier?” Mandell asked as he did the preflight check.
“That wouldn’t have anything to do with it. She knew he wouldn’t be easy. He’s smarter than Nicos. She just knew he’d be the most likely one to tap.”
“Well then, you’d better see if she was right.” Mandell was taxiing down the runway after he got the okay from the tower. “I thought your taking that Olympic-distance swim to leave that recorder for Margaret Douglas was a bit extreme, certainly a long shot. But she may be proving me wrong. If we manage to get her away from Nicos, I’ll be interested in meeting her.”
“When, not if,” Lassiter said sharply. “We pick her up in Montego Bay in two days.”
“We may be in the middle of a Colombian jungle in two days, going after Patrick, if we can follow up on her information.” He glanced at Lassiter as he took off. “You always told me that was first priority.”
“We pick her up,” Lassiter repeated as he continued to scroll through the history. “I’ll work it out.”
I don’t know when I’ll get away if you can’t do it at Montego Bay.
And he would have to do it. Because if they found a way to grab Patrick, then Nicos would be looking for reasons why it had happened. Leaks, bribery, or anything different that would have signaled a change or weakening in his security.
And Margaret would be the one different element.
“Well, we won’t discuss priorities until we’re sure that your Margaret’s given us a name that will take us to Patrick,” Mandell said. “I saw a few of those photos Nicos sent you and I don’t think the decision will be—”
“We’re sure,” Lassiter said, interrupting him. He looked up from the text. “We have a name. Simon Zwecker. The last address we had for him was in Trinidad. Cambry’s checking on any updates, but we’re not waiting. Now let’s go get him.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Vadaz Island
2:40 A.M.
Blood!
Black-and-white tiles!
Margaret jerked upright in bed, panting, her face wet with perspiration.
Rosa.
No, it was only a nightmare. It would have been really bizarre if she hadn’t had a dream about that night, after everything that had happened today.
And the fact that she was back in this house, where the nightmare had started.
She looked at the arched door across the room. Beyond that door was that gleaming tile floor that had haunted her for years. The memory that had been a constant torment and that had sent her running and hiding like a child afraid of the dark.
It was dark now in this bedroom. It would be darker in that room where Rosa had died, because evil still lived there. Margaret didn’t want to think of that room. She wanted to lie back and cover her head and pray for sleep.
Like the young girl she’d been three years ago. But she wasn’t that girl any longer. She’d come here to stop Nicos and Salva from ever being able to send her on the run again. She had to keep them from performing those atrocities they’d done to Patrick and Rosa on anyone else.
Yet she wanted only to go and hide again.
I’ve given you what you needed, Lassiter. I don’t know if I can help you anymore. Dear Lord, I’m afraid.