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“Just need to copy an address and some codes.” She scribbled, closing the book and handing it back as the window opened. She slammed her laptop shut and handed the woman a twenty. “Thanks.”
“Got anything smaller? I didn’t get to the bank yesterday.” The woman handed two white cups to Sam.
Sam placed the cups in the cup holders. “How about adding two mocha chocolate chip cookies, and we’ll call it even. And if my asshole ex comes looking for me, you didn’t see me, right?”
“See who?” The woman handed her two white bags. “It’s too dark out here, and some jerk across the street shines his security lights right into my camera. Can’t see a thing.”
Trevor held back his grimace. No need to make them even more memorable. Although the woman was telling the truth about the lights across the street; they were blinding.
“Thanks, I really appreciate it.” Sam grinned. “Have a great day.”
“Of course. Have a wonderful, drama-free day. Drive safe.”
Sam pulled away and on to the highway headed west. She took a sip. “Oh, that’s perfect. I know how to pick them.”
“Chancy making that ask. She’ll remember you now. If they have even the slightest glimmering that woman knows something, they won’t hesitate to torture her.” And then they’d kill her or traffic her. Or maybe he was taking worst-case scenarios to an extreme because how would the Bratva find them?
“This area attracts a lot of migrant workers. She had signs in several languages offering help for trafficked individuals. I think she’s a safe bet.” Sam pulled off the highway again, near a church, and sipped her coffee, pointing at his notebook. “Want to look that address up? It’s nearby, I think.”
Trevor let his objections go, opening his map book to their area and peering at the address. “Lost River Airport Community. Interesting. Are you a pilot?” He searched the paper map, but nothing jumped out at him. He didn’t want to use his laptop, but he also wanted to get off the road.
“No.” Sam snorted. “I don’t like flying at all.”
“What about Dahl?” Trevor pulled up a new protected browser window with a mapping program showing the northwest quadrant of Washington. He entered “airport” into the search bar. Their target popped up, so he zoomed in and looked for the highway turnoff, then clicked on two airports to the south of them. The techies at the Bureau would be able to see he’d zoomed in, but hopefully, anyone working for the Bratva would be thrown off by him looking at the other two airports.
“Yeah, I think Andreas flies. I’d forgotten that.” She shrugged. “That explains why there was a separate address and lock codes for a hangar.”
Trevor powered down the laptop. “I know how to find the place. Let’s go. We’ll turn off at the town of Mazama, probably thirty or forty minutes up the road. Look for the Yellowjacket SnoPark or Monument Creek Trail.”
Sam put the car in drive and pulled on to the highway. The sky was lightening around them; time to leave before their car showed up on too many cameras. He pulled his ball cap lower.
She remained at the speed limit through town, and slightly above on the highway. They rolled along the Methow River, through the town of Winthrop, then turned off for Mazama and crossed the river. They drove west, paralleling the Lost River, and turned at a sign for the Lost River Airport Community. She drove toward the river without hesitation.
“Do you know where you’re going?” Trevor searched for street signs.
“Not exactly, but I’m sure the Dahl family has the biggest, nicest, most private house in the community. And that will be on the river.” She smirked. “Behind a gate. He sent me several codes.”
“Good point.” He knew little about the family, other than what Sam had shared. Hopefully Aviss wouldn’t find any concerns because they’d be easily trapped in the subdivision. The only alternative way out would be on foot. “After we arrive, let me do a full walk around and look for issues and escape routes. Assuming everything is okay, we’ll unload, then I’ll move the car to the hangar. If we have to run, our vehicle won’t be trapped up against the river.”
“Good idea. I’m assuming we’ll want to leave most stuff in the car, so let’s walk through the house and see what we’ll need first.” She slowed, pointing at the river ahead of them.
An extremely useful suggestion. He was proud of her for adapting so quickly but wished she didn’t have to. He opened his notebook to the page she’d written on and put it in her lap. “Excellent idea. I’ll scan addresses—wait, there it is.” As she’d speculated, a big gate blocked the road. Surprisingly, it was a plain ranch gate, not a big splashy iron art piece like most rich people would choose.
Sam pulled up to the gate and entered a code into the waiting keypad. The gate opened toward them, which was useful if they had to ram it to get out. She pulled through, and the gate closed behind her.
Ahead was a beautiful, surprisingly small, dark-stained log house, the river running only twenty feet beyond it. “Cute.” Three steps rose to a small landing with a door on the left, two windows to the right. A single large triangular window matched the peak of the roof.
“Yeah, that’s a little surprising.” She pulled up in front of the house and turned the car to face back down the driveway. “I’ve been to a couple of their vacation homes, and they’re usually gigantic showplaces. Maybe this one is an older acquisition?”
“Maybe.” Trevor got out, stretching his legs. “Or someone wanted a hunting cabin?”
“Possible. His father is a big game hunter, which Andreas finds repugnant.” Slinging her backpack over her shoulder, Sam led the way to the front door and entered the code. With a whirr and a beep, the door opened. Inside, she entered a code into a security panel.
Trevor wanted to swear but didn’t. “That’s not ideal because I’m sure it’s monitored.”
Sam glared at him. “Andreas isn’t stupid. I’m sure he told the monitoring company he was coming up.”
Trevor hoped so, or they’d be found even easier. They stepped into a small entry with a bench and hooks on the wall. To their right was a kitchen with pale wood cabinets, light gray countertops, and stainless appliances. A live edge log breakfast bar separated the living area from the kitchen. Sheets covered lumps that were probably a couch and two chairs grouped around a fireplace to the right. A dark wood table with seats for four stood to their left, along with a matching china cabinet and bar against the wall. The ceiling above them ended at the breakfast bar; Trevor assumed the loft held beds and a bathroom. The far end of the cabin was all windows, shades blocking most of the light.
