The communications center at Ma Soeur housed around twenty people. Kate met Isabelle and Andy at the door, secured with handprint and iris recognition, and guided Isabelle and Andy through the maze of computers and people to one of the desks at the front.
A familiar face was sitting there, feet on the table, staring at a huge screen showing images of New York. She swiveled in her chair as she heard them approach and dumped a can of Red Bull into the trash as she jumped to her feet.
It was Jam, her neighbor. Isabelle had wondered how Kate’s team had known when to grab her. Funny how her dreams had shown the Ma Soeur building, but revealed nothing about Jam.
“Jam,” she said evenly. “If that’s even your real name.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” Jam said. “Had a job to do. Real name is Johanna, but shit if anyone’s ever going to call me that.” Jam ran a hand through her purple and black bangs, her head shaved on the left side.
Isabelle managed a smile.
Kate invited her and Andy to sit in a half circle of chairs behind Jam. There was almost no sign of the left hook Isabelle had delivered earlier, bar slight bruising below her eyes.
Kate turned to Andy. “Okay. Tell us what you’ve got. Maybe we can identify this woman before she’s murdered.”
The room quieted as Andy gave them the breakdown of Isabelle’s dream, everyone fixated on her. Every now and then Isabelle would interrupt, adding new detail to the events and surroundings.
As Andy continued, the silence gave way to murmured disbelief.
Jam stopped typing. “You could see the woman’s ID tag for the Norwegian consulate? And the museum? Through the window? All of that?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“Jam,” Andy shot angrily. “You’ll show Isabelle the same respect you do any dreamer. You won’t question her. She’s not here because she wants to be here. She’s here because Kate abducted her, so I don’t want bullshit from anyone. Got it?” She turned around, glaring at the men and women at the workstations behind her.
“There’s no need to be aggressive,” Kate said in a soothing tone, her hand on Andy’s arm. “None of these people did anything to Isabelle or you. As you said, it was my decision to bring her here, and mine alone.”
Kate turned to Isabelle. “But yes, perhaps I’ve never apologized for my behavior. Please accept my sincerest thanks for being here. I hope you have come to understand the reason for our unorthodox behavior. Hopefully, Andy has explained everything to you?”
Isabelle wondered if Kate’s words even counted as an apology. “She has. And I’m willing to see where all of this leads, if you keep on talking to me. No more pushing me into corners.” She locked eyes with Kate. “By the way, I’m convinced I would have listened to you if you simply walked up to me and explained yourself. I was desperate enough to come here willingly.”
From the corner of her eye, Isabelle caught Andy’s fleeting smile.
Kate lifted an eyebrow. “Well, yes, of course,” she said in a cold voice. “As I say. My apologies for that.”
Jam cleared her throat. “Sorry too. It just…there’s so much detail. It’s rare.”
“No problem,” Isabelle said to Jam. “I’m equally surprised I could see everything in such detail. And remember it all.”
Jam turned back to her computer. “Okay. Let’s get cracking. I know Kate said you can see four days into the future, but I normally work with a few hours, a day-and-a-half max. I think it’s safer if we don’t make any assumptions about the time frame here and work as quickly as we can.”
They waited in silence as Jam opened several windows on her computer.
Finally, after about ten minutes, she gave a satisfied grunt. “Okay. That’s better. Now we’re getting somewhere.”
She called up a satellite map on the big screen at the front of the room. “I think I can narrow it down to the corner of Fifth Avenue and East Eighty-Second Street. The buildings here overlook the Met. It’s also the same type of neo-federal townhome of the 1920s you described.” She pointed to one of the roofs on the map. “The fourth floor of this building has a two-bedroom apartment registered to Arlene Hampton. She often goes by the name Lily, it seems. And her photo matches your description.”
Jam pointed to one of the three computer screens in front of her. She swiped the picture on the middle one to the large screen at the front of the room. “What do you think?”
Isabelle looked at the woman. “Looks like her, yes.”
The next photo showed an upmarket building.
Isabelle nodded. “Could be it, yes.”
“Okay, everyone.” Jam got up, stood on her toes to add a bit of height to her five foot three. “Drop what you’re doing and find out if Arlene Hampton is still alive. Surveillance footage, cabs, trains, credit card transactions, the works.”
Isabelle heard the room come alive as fingers dashed across keyboards. Kate sat, legs crossed, her eyes locked on the big screen, her face unreadable. Claire showed even less emotion.
“You okay?” Andy asked.
“Yes,” she said, her voice a whisper.
“Hampton used her credit card at the UN’s coffee shop this morning at nine nineteen,” a blond man to her left said suddenly.
“Anyone can steal a credit card,” Jam said. “Get me CCTV.”
“On it.”
A minute later, a curvy brunette called from the back of the room. “Here you go.”
An image of a blond woman appeared on the big screen. They all turned to look. Arlene Hampton was elegant, dressed in a camel colored coat and blue dress. She strode across the foyer of the United Nations building, coffee to go in her hand.
“That’s her,” the brunette said. “Facial recognition says there is a ninety-seven percent probability it’s her.”
“Corroborate,” Jam called. She brushed the purple bangs to behind her ear, rubbing the shaved side of her head as if a headache lurked there.
“City’s cameras got her as she steps into a cab outside. Ninety-nine percent,” shouted an unseen baritone.
“Great work.” Jam turned to Andy and Isabelle, a lopsided grin on her face. “She’s still breathing. That’s our job done for now. Go forth and make merry. Happy hunting.”
Isabelle turned to Andy.
“Now we try to find Arlene Hampton before anything happens to her,” Andy translated. “Without revealing ourselves.”
“Sounds easy enough.”
Andy shook her head. “It always does.”
Andy looked to Kate who remained seated, her eyes still locked on the screen.
Jam cleared her throat noisily.
Kate finally stirred, nodding stiffly in Andy’s direction. “Good luck.”
Claire rose. “David and Iona will be your backup. They have been briefed about your circumstances.”
“Okay,” said Andy. She started to move to the door, gesturing for Isabelle to follow.
“Make sure you leave no stone unturned in saving this woman,” Kate called to her. “She’s clearly a high-profile target.”
“I will.”
“And don’t let your personal feelings toward me or Ma Soeur get in the way.”
“I won’t.”
Kate mumbled something, her mouth grim.
Isabelle wondered about the pressure on Kate to be right. Right about taking her, bringing her here against her will.
As they were about to walk out, Jam came running up to them. “Sorry about earlier, Andy.”
“No problem.”
Jam stared at Isabelle with something akin to wonder.
“What?”
“You were right.”
Andy frowned. “What do you mean?”
Jam ignored her. “You said you saw snow in your dream?”
“Yes.”
“It’s November. Weather patterns don’t normally see a lot of snow this time of year, but then, what’s normal weather these days.”
“Okay,” Isabelle acknowledged, somewhat defeated.
“But there is a forecast for snow on Friday the twenty-first.”
“That’s three days from now,” Andy said. “And we think Arlene Hampton dies on the night of the twenty-first, considering the calendar.”
Jam nodded, her eyes bright. “I know. Quite impressive.” She gave a slight bow in Isabelle’s direction. “May the force be with you.”