Georgia made sure to drive the speed limit as she retraced her route. She headed south and east to Palatine Road, letting her adrenaline rush subside, although she glanced at the rearview mirror several times to make sure the cruiser wasn’t following her.
As she approached the intersection of Palatine Road, her breathing back to normal, she spotted a bead shop in a strip mall. Was that a sign? She decided it was, especially since a café with specialty coffees was only three doors away.
She pulled into the strip mall, parked, and climbed out. As she passed Beautiful Beaders, she looked in the window. The front window displayed beaded fashion accessories. Not just necklaces, bracelets, and earrings. Beaded brooches depicting miniature animals, watering cans, coffee pots, even a vase of beaded flowers on plush velvet material. Some of the miniatures were very clever. JoBeth would love them.
She stopped into the café and ordered a latte. She knew she was wasting time. The pad of paper she’d found in Barb’s beading room was her next task, and she should work on it before LeJeune left for Jefferson Medical. But the drink was her reward for what she considered a job well done. Still, she would call the man who’d taught her how to pick a lock for a refresher course when this was over.
Back in the car, the aroma of fresh coffee perfumed the air while she fished the pad out of her pocket. Fortunately, the paper was thin, which made it perfect for her needs. There were definite indentations on the top sheet. She took out a sharpened Number Two pencil from her glove compartment and set the pad down on a hardcover book she kept in the car for just this purpose. Angling the pencil at a forty-five-degree angle, she began shading over the indentations with the pencil. Back and forth, careful not to press too hard but firmly enough to raise an image. Slowly, some markings appeared.
She was getting something. It might be a grocery list, or Barb’s errands for the day, but maybe not. When she was sure she’d covered all the indentations, she looked at the penciled sheet of paper. A buzz skimmed her nerves. Goosebumps rose on her arms.
AA 2569 to Quito + Cuenca.
She grabbed her iPhone and Googled Cuenca.
Ecuador.
She called LeJeune.
After leaving a message, Georgia finished her latte and started the car. She punched in Jimmy’s cell. Again, it went to voicemail. She left another apology and called Vanna. That call went to voicemail as well. “Hey where are you?” she said. “I just finished work, and it went well. I thought we could order in tonight. Let me know.”
She called JoBeth next. May as well include her for dinner. She could tell her mother about the bead store. Again the call went to voicemail. Where was everyone? She finally had good news to share, but no one to share it with.
She headed east on Willow Road when her cell chirped.
LeJeune.
“Well, cher, your news gave us a real lift. We alerted Interpol, our agents in Colombia and Peru, and local police. They’re all heading to Cuenca as we speak. Turns out Cuenca is a mecca for American expats. Blackstone probably thought he would blend in. Thanks to you, however, that’s not gonna happen.”
“Do you know exactly where he is?”
“We’re close. As soon as you told us Cuenca, we asked our intel friends to look through electronic traffic from the area. There’s an internet café in the middle of an American neighborhood, and it seems that a Mr. Black has been busy sending emails.”
“To who?”
“Working on it now. If we don’t identify his location, we’ll wait for him at the café. But the best news is that as soon as we find him, he and wifey will be on a flight back to Chicago where he will become the Bureau’s overnight guest at the Palmer House. We’ll interview him over breakfast. Be there by eight.”
“You got it.”
“And Davis?”
“Yeah?”
“You did good.”