Bulletproof Mascara: A Novel (33 page)

“What about the date?”

“Two weeks ago. Same time frame as Lawan’s disappearance.”

Nikki rubbed her head. It was turning out to be a long day.

“All right, well, you’re cross-referencing all of Lawan’s known numbers or companies against Victor’s phone, right?”

“I . . . uh . . . yeah . . . I’m working on that,” Jane said.

Nikki could hear her typing in the background. “You haven’t done that yet, have you?” she asked tiredly.

“I’m only one person,” said Jane patiently. “And you’re not my only case. It got bumped to the bottom of the priority list.”

“Well, bump it back up,” snapped Nikki. “A little girl’s life might be at stake.”

“I’m on it,” Jane said, sounding hurt.

“I’m sorry, Jane,” Nikki said. “It’s been a long day, and to top it all off, I’m not sure where Val is.”

“You’re not the only one,” said Jane. “Dr. Hastings put in like three ‘request to calls,’ and Val’s ignored every single one of them.”

“Is that normal?” Nikki asked, trying to fight the urge to curl up into a ball.

“For Val? If it’s insensitive and inconvenient, it’s par for the course.”

“Jane,” said Nikki, sinking down onto the floor and leaning against the door. “The number of things I’m certain about in this situation is limited. Victor’s a bad guy, but I don’t know what he’s up to. Or rather, has been up to, since I think he just got taken off the playing field. Lawan doesn’t seem to be missing, so much as intentionally absent. Lawan and Z’ev may be working together, but I don’t know why. Z’ev clearly isn’t who he says he is. I’m pretty sure he’s some sort of government agent, but he’s not about to tell me the truth. Sarkassian is a mystery. And now there’s a little girl in trouble, and my partner is in the wind. I need fewer question marks, OK? I can’t do this without help.”

“I’m sorry, Nikki,” Jane said, sounding distressed. “I know I’m not being the best informational specialist I could be, but Dr. Hastings keeps piling extra work on me. She knows I’m working with you and Val, but it’s like she wants me to work twenty-four hours straight. At this rate, I’m going to miss something crucial, I just know it. But I will do better. I promise.”

“Get Jenny and Ellen to help,” suggested Nikki. “They might have a few minutes to spare you, and they know the situation. Dr. Hastings doesn’t have to know.”

“I . . . I might ask.” Jane sounded depressed, and Nikki guessed that if she was willing to ask for help, then the workload must be significant. “Meanwhile, did you and Val get the map I sent? I collated Victor’s most-called numbers and marked them on a map of Bangkok. I e-mailed it this afternoon.”

“No,” Nikki said. “I’ll look now.”

Scrambling over to the desk, she turned on the computer. As
she waited for it to boot up, she distinctly heard a click on the phone line and a sigh from Jane.

“That’s Dr. Hastings paging me again,” said Jane. “Can I call you back?”

“Yeah, sure,” agreed Nikki. “I’ll log in to the website. You can get me through there.”

“Cool,” Jane said, and hung up.

Nikki pulled up Jane’s e-mail. Numbers, contact list, calendar appointments, etc.—all had been collated into neat columns that Nikki’s tired eyes blurred over. Jane had also marked a map of Bangkok with Victor’s most frequently called numbers, but as she commented in a dry footnote, all locations were subject to inaccuracy due to Thailand’s high cell phone usage. Addresses were only good for billing; on-site confirmation would be required.

Nothing about the e-mail seemed particularly urgent. Victor called a warehouse owned by Rival Shipping most frequently. Second most frequent was Sarkassian’s number. An unspecified business in the poorer part of town and a strip club downtown completed the list of most-called numbers.

The next e-mail from Jane contained the picture, and Nikki reluctantly opened it up to view it on a big screen. Once it was bigger, she could see something that she had missed the first time. Staring at the picture, she was convinced that she’d seen the little girl before—in pictures all over Lawan’s home and office. It was Lawan’s daughter.

Nikki leaned her forehead onto her hand. She felt hot and sticky, but immediately got goose bumps when the air-conditioning kicked on, and she shivered. She felt ill, then wondered if she should take a trip to Lawan’s clinic. Her head snapped up and she pulled up Jane’s e-mail again. Then she ran to her bag, pushing
clothes out of the way in an attempt to find the sheaf of papers Val had given her on Lawan. Moments later she was comparing the business address on Jane’s e-mail to the printed one in Lawan’s dossier. There it was, plain as day. The third most-called number on Victor’s phone was Lawan’s clinic.

She brought up the phone log and looked at the dates on Victor’s phone calls to the clinic. The calls went back at least six months and continued after Lawan’s disappearance, so it couldn’t have been about the kidnapping. If Victor had been talking to Lawan, it had been for another purpose.

“But why? She hated him.” Nikki spoke out loud, and the sound of her own voice startled her in the quiet of the room. Thoughtfully, she reached for the phone and dialed Val. Moments later she was listening to Val’s voice mail message. Frowning, she dialed again, this time trying for Laura Daniels.

“Have you found her?” was Laura’s immediate response—not even a hello.

“Not exactly,” said Nikki, “but I need to know about the clinic.”

“What about it?” asked Laura, her voice sinking, and Nikki could picture her shoulders sagging downward.

“Do they carry a lot of drugs or anything that someone might want?”

“No,” Laura said firmly. “They carry a very limited supply of drugs. Drugs are such a problem already that it’s really a struggle to keep people clean. Why?”

“I saw Lawan tonight,” said Nikki, still trying to sort through her own thoughts.

“You did?!” Laura’s voice rose to a startling pitch, and Nikki jerked the phone away from her ear. “Is she all right?”

“Yeah, I think she’s been hiding out with her boyfriend, a Muay Thai fighter.”

“Saman? I called him,” Laura said, sounding hurt. “He said he hadn’t seen her.”

“I also saw the guy from the clinic and the night club—Victor—and she definitely is not a fan of Victor’s, so I’m wondering why her clinic is the third most-called number in his phone.”

“Well, you wouldn’t call the clinic if you wanted to talk to her,” Laura said defensively, and Nikki realized that her question could have been interpreted as accusatory. “You’d call her cell phone. She’s in and out too much to get her at the clinic.”

“Sorry, of course,” Nikki said, backpedaling. “But he is calling the clinic, so who’s he talking to?”

There was silence on the other end of the line as Laura considered. “What’s the actual number?” she asked.

Nikki gave it to her.

“That’s Patient Records,” Laura said. “The clinic has two numbers—one for the public, one for doctors or pharmacies calling in for prescription confirmation or patient records.”

“Patient records?” Nikki repeated. “Like the ones Lawan had all over her office?”

“Yes,” Laura said, slowly as if thinking, “she did.”

“I don’t get it. What’s the connection?” mused Nikki. “What could Victor possibly want at the clinic, let alone in Patient Records?”

“I don’t know,” Laura said.

“Tell me about Lawan’s daughter,” Nikki said, realizing that Laura was going to be horrified if told about the picture on Victor’s phone. She would have to handle this tactfully.

“Lindawati,” said Laura. “She’s absolutely darling. And so smart. She’s supposed to be coming back for summer vacation soon. I called the school when Lawan disappeared, to make sure they didn’t release her, though. I didn’t want her coming back to all this. They wouldn’t let me talk to her. They said it was against
their security protocols.” Laura sounded bitter. “I’ve been working the network trying to find someone with an in at the school. I’m so afraid that the end of term will roll around and Lindawati will be stuck there with no explanation.”

“The network?” repeated Nikki.

“The people who can afford to attend boarding schools are a rather limited social group. I just have to find someone who’s got leverage there who owes me a favor.”

“You make it sound like the mob,” Nikki said, and Laura laughed, but Nikki wasn’t listening. She was thinking about Lindawati, who was clearly no longer at the school. Somehow Victor had gotten past the school’s security. She replayed the scene in the bathroom, ignoring Laura. “That doesn’t help Lindawati,” Lawan had said. Victor had kidnapped Lindawati to use against Lawan, but why? Lawan had been investigating Rival Shipping in her office at home. She’d been poring over patient records at work.

“Nikki?” said Laura. “Are you still there?”

“The orderly,” Nikki said, following her thoughts. “I forgot about the orderly.”

“What?” asked Laura, nonplussed.

“Victor’s been calling the clinic, and we saw the orderly hand him a disk. So he must have been talking to the orderly. Meanwhile, Lawan was investigating Rival Shipping because of her support for increased security measures at the port. She must have found out about whatever he and the orderly were up to—found the connection between Rival and the clinic—and they kidnapped Lindawati to keep Lawan quiet.”

“What?!” Laura screeched, and Nikki grimaced. “That’s impossible! Why didn’t you tell me? I called the school. They said she was fine. We have to call the police immediately!”

“If Lawan thought the police could help, I think she would
have called them by now,” said Nikki, and she heard Laura sigh in exasperation.

“I can’t take this! Rival Shipping, you said? Why, I have a good mind to march down there and demand an explanation.”

“Laura, that is a very bad idea,” said Nikki, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. “You have to leave this to the professionals.” She was thinking of Z’ev and his mysterious government agency—it had to be the CIA.

“You’re right,” said Laura, clearly struggling under this command; her breathing was still labored. “I’m sure you and Val will find them and everything will be all right, but I’m so worried about Lawan. And God, poor Lindawati . . .” There was a stifled sob at the end. Nikki gulped, realizing that Laura was relying on her to be the professional.

“But what is it that they don’t want Lawan to reveal?” asked Laura, sniffling into the phone. Nikki grimaced at the noise. “What could a shipping company want with a free health clinic?”

“I don’t know,” Nikki said, “but we’ll find out, I promise. We’ll find Lawan. It will all be all right.” She tried to sound as if she believed it herself.

“I just wish there was something more I could do. I could go to the clinic and look at the patient records?”

“No, I don’t think it’s necessary,” Nikki said quickly. The last thing she needed was one more person in danger.

Laura said goodbye and promised Nikki she would wait by the phone.

There was a mirror behind the desk, and as she hung up the phone, Nikki took in her reflection. Her eye makeup was smudged from the water in the bathroom. Her hair had decided that the humidity was unacceptable and was sending out tendrils as if seeking escape. The room was a disaster area: shoes scattered
across the floor, her purse leaking onto the floor, clothes spreading like a slow lava creep from her backpack. Nothing was where it was supposed to be. She remembered the way Z’ev had looked at her purse in disbelief, and she sighed.

Her purse was a just a smaller picture of her suitcase. Her suitcase was just a miniature of the room. Her room was just a snapshot of how she lived her life. It was all the same: she jammed things in and then couldn’t find them later, and all the things she could find were never the things she wanted. The universal truth that a woman was her purse hit her with an impact that left her ego stinging; it was something she wished she didn’t know.

The instant messenger sound dinged, interrupting her misery.

I DON’T SUPPOSE VAL HAS APPEARED?
Jane typed.

NO
, Nikki typed.

DR. HASTINGS IS GOING TO LEAVE PERMANENT BITE MARKS ON MY A$$—GOT TO FIND VAL QUICK.

IS SOMETHING WRONG?
Nikki typed.

DON’T KNOW
, Jane replied,
BUT DR. H HAS GOT A BUG UP HER BUM ABOUT SOMETHING. IT DOES SORT OF SEEM LIKE SOMETHING’S UP. NOT THAT ANYONE IS GOING TO TELL ME.

DOES SHE WANT TO TALK TO ME?
offered Nikki.

I DON’T THINK SO
, Jane replied.
ACTUALLY, I GET THE FEELING THAT SHE DOESN’T WANT ME TALKING TO YOU AT ALL. SHE JUST WANTS VAL.

I NEED YOU TO WORK ON THE STUFF FROM VICTOR,
typed Nikki.
I THINK THERE’S A CONNECTION BETWEEN LAWAN’S CLINIC AND RIVAL SHIPPING. I THINK LAWAN FOUND OUT ABOUT IT AND THEY KIDNAPPED HER DAUGHTER—THE GIRL IN THE PHOTO. I NEED TO KNOW WHAT THE CONNECTION IS.

I HEAR YOU, BUT DR. H JUST DUMPED A CASE REVIEW ON ME AND TOLD ME IT WAS TOP PRIORITY.

At the desk Nikki fumed, drumming her fingers against the glossy wood.

FIND ME VAL, AND MAYBE I CAN GET BACK TO YOUR STUFF,
typed Jane. Maybe? Nikki could practically hear the hopeful tone in Jane’s written message.

I DON’T KNOW WHERE SHE IS
, typed Nikki. She didn’t want to tell Jane what she was really afraid of—that Val was either still mad at her, or that Nikki had left her vulnerable to an attack.

WELL, NOT TO BE FLIP, BUT YOU ARE A TOP-OF-HER-CLASS CARRIE MAE AGENT, AREN’T YOU?
was Jane’s response.
FIND HER!

Nikki sighed. It wasn’t that easy. Val was never that easy.

I’LL TRY
, she typed, and got a smiley face and an abrupt TTYL back, before Jane’s IM icon disappeared.

THAILAND XI

Party Like It’s 1999 . . . 
Again

Without much hope, Nikki crossed the hall and banged on Val’s door again. When no one responded to her repeated knocking, she went back to her room. If Val wouldn’t open the door, she would have to open it herself. Rooting through the gadget box, she found the digital lock pick/eye shadow compact and went back across the hall. Moments later she slid into Val’s room and flipped on the light. She wasn’t sure what she had expected to find, but it hadn’t been a perfectly ordinary room.