It took longer than expected. Not because the O'Donnells were particularly secretive, but because the Internet still wasn't up to snuff after the crash.
First thing after leaving the coffee shop, the three of them drove to the county seat and looked up the lot and block number of the property jointly owned by Francis and Marie O'Donnell who were listed as residents of Riviera Beach, Florida. From there to the local library where they used a computer to track the couple. Bits and pieces from multiple sites sketched out the details Jack needed. Francis: seventy-six and a former stockbroker who retired from Bear Stearns well before the meltdown. Marie: seventy-four and a former high school teacher.
Jack made the assumption that, barring a family emergency, a couple in their midseventies with a primary residence in South Florida would keep their distance from the bitter cold of Long Island in March.
So he decided to move in.
He left Weezy and Dawn in the Hamptons and made the long trip to his apartment to retrieve his break-in kit and a few other goodies.
Darkness had fallen by the time he returned. Weezy dropped him off at the end of the street and he walked the rest of the way. He had a bad moment when he reached the place and found lights on in the front room and an upstairs window. But a few cautious peeks inside showed no signs of life: he spotted a timer in the socket feeding the light in the front window. No doubt the same story upstairs. A good policy for the owner: The place looked occupied to anyone driving by.
He used a bump key to enter the house through the rear door into the utility room. The place felt delightfully warm to Jack after the frigid wind off the bay, but still a little cool for the comfort of a couple of septuagenarians. A good sign, but he needed to be absolutely sure the place was empty. He hurried through the first floor, then through the bedrooms upstairs. All empty.
Back on the first floor, he used quick flashes of his penlight to find a thermostat. They'd left it set on fifty-five. He upped that ten degrees and heard a furnace go on. He tried a faucet. No water. Took him a few minutes to find the shut-off valve; he turned it back on.
He called Weezy and gave her the all-clear, then went out by the garage - a one-car garage, unfortunately. But they'd found a spot in the trees down by the highway, not a hundred yards from the O'Donnells' back door, to stash the SUV. A padlock on the simple gate latch held the garage's old-fashioned double doors closed. He shimmed it open and waited.
A few minutes later a car appeared with its headlights out. Jack swung the garage doors open and held them until Dawn's Volvo was inside, then closed up and replaced the padlock without securing it. Weezy and Dawn emerged from the garage's rear door with the bare-necessities groceries they'd picked up in Amagansett. Weezy had her backpack with her precious Compendium slung over her shoulder.
"Okay," he said as they unpacked the bags in the kitchen. "We've got heat, water, and power."
The backwash of light from the front room provided enough illumination to allow them to see what they were doing.
"All the comforts of home," Weezy said.
"Not quite. We need to stay out of the front room while the light is on. Same for the lighted room upstairs. The owners may have hired some security people to drive by now and then, or they may have some sort of neighborhood watch. We don't want to risk someone spotting movement in a supposedly empty house."
The women nodded.
"I'll find a blanket to drape over the bathroom window, so we can at least put that light on when we need it, but otherwise no lights."
Dawn looked at him. "Sounds like you think we're going to be here a long time."
"I don't know. I hope not."
She looked from Jack to Weezy. "I've got a feeling there's another agenda here."
No dummy, this girl.
Weezy said, "I want you to get your baby back. But..."
Dawn turned to Jack. "But what?"
"Mister Osala is important too," he said.
She frowned. "Why?"
Okay. Time to lay out as much as he could for her. He gestured to the kitchen table.
"Maybe we should sit down and discuss this."
They pulled out chairs and seated themselves in the near dark.
Jack said, "Where do I begin, Weez?"
She cleared her throat. "I think we should keep this on as mundane a level as possible."
Explain it without mentioning the Otherness and the Ally? Not easy, but it would keep them from looking like head cases.
"Worth a try."
She leaned toward Dawn. "There's a war going on. It's being fought behind the scenes. Mister Osala is a very big player in that war. He's not a detective, your mother never hired him to protect you - in fact, your mother never met or even heard of him. Everything he told you is a lie."
"Then why - ?"
"He leads a cult. You saw their symbol on the back of your obstetrician's watch. They think they can take over the world."
Dawn slapped her hands on the table. "Oh, I don't believe this!"
Jack saw where Weezy was going.
"You don't have to believe it," he said. "What's important to know is that Osala believes it. And he believes your baby is the key to that takeover."
Jack didn't know if that was true - he had no idea what Rasalom had planned for the baby - but it might be. And even if he was wrong, it sounded good. Whatever it took to widen Dawn's focus from just her baby to a bigger picture.
"But that's crazy!"
Weezy said, "No argument. But crazy or not, the baby is why he took you in during your pregnancy and dumped you as soon as you delivered. That's why he spirited the baby away."
"And that," Jack said, tapping the table, "is why he's got to figure into what we do here."
"But I just want my baby back."
Jack hit her with an angle he thought would lock her in.
"Do you want to keep your baby once you find him?"
"Of course!"
"Well, you can depend on Osala to do his damnedest to get him back. So unless we deal with Osala here and now, you and your baby could spend the rest of your lives on the run."
Dawn leaned forward. "What do you mean by 'deal' with him?"
"Leave that to me."
A pause, then, "You're a little scary, you know that?"
"Scarier than the guy who locked you away in his apartment for months on end and then stole your baby?"
Another pause. "Score one for you. But how does this affect what we're doing here?"
"Okay," Jack said. "We're working with only two facts right now: Osala's driver is over there, and the pediatric surgeon present during your labor has paid a visit. Everything else is assumption. We can assume your baby is there but we need to establish that as a fact. And even if we do, we can't move until we can establish beyond a doubt that Osala is there."
"But why?"
Jack thought he'd made that obvious but Dawn's tunnel vision persisted.
"So that when you take the baby and leave, I can make sure no one hounds your trail."
Weezy rested her hand atop Dawn's. "Larger issues than you and your baby are at stake here, Dawn. You don't need to know the details, but you were right: We have another agenda. But it dovetails perfectly with yours. We'll help you get and keep your baby, but you've got to promise us you'll play it Jack's way and let him decide the timing. That way we'll all walk away with what we came for."
"Do I have a choice?"
"Of course you have a choice," Jack told her. "But if you do something rash, we could all come away empty-handed."
"Rash?" She sounded offended. "Like what?"
"Like going over there and peeking in the windows to see if you can spot the baby."
She didn't reply.
"On target?" Jack said.
She sighed and he saw her nod in the dim light. "Yeah."
He'd figured if she hadn't already thought of that, it wouldn't be long before she did. Might as well get it on the table.
"Just promise me, Dawn, that the only window you'll peek through is one of those upstairs, okay?"
A reluctant tone: "Okay. But somebody needs to look in that house."
"I agree. And that would be me. Dark is the best time. In fact, I'll take a look right now."