Page 60 of Bishop's Flight
“And Agnes knows that isn’t an option.”
Bernard nodded. “No one wants to lose Lucas, but handing the city over to an individual like Zasha Sokholov—any of the Sokholovs, but particularly them—would be a disaster.”
“And it probably wouldn’t keep Lucas safe anyway.”
Bernard offered her a curt nod. “Correct.”
She sat back and mulled over their options. “You send those pictures of the flooring to your daughter?”
“I have.”
“Anything?”
“She’s still searching images online to find anything that can narrow it down. It appears to be a man-made material. It appears woven. It’s unusual but it’s also black. The computer doesn’t know quite what to search for.”
“Woven, synthetic carpet.” Brigid turned the idea over. “Wouldn’t be industrial. Could it be something from a garden center? Something like that?”
He cocked his head. “That’s an interesting thought. Woven vinyl perhaps? Why would you need woven vinyl flooring? What would be the purpose?”
“It wouldn’t be comfort.” She tapped her fork on the edge of her plate. “It wouldn’t stain if it got wet.”
There was something there…
Wet.
Drainage.
Then why not a slick flooring like in a garage? Something easy to spray off?
A thought was tugging at the back of Brigid’s mind.
You wouldn’t want to slip.
“Why would you slip?”
Bernard asked, “What’s that?”
She looked up from contemplating her empty plate. “Woven vinyl flooring. It wouldn’t be damaged by water. It wouldn’t pool on the top like a solid flooring. Think about those outdoor carpets they make for conservatories, things like that.”
“Conservatories?”
“Ah… patios.” Brigid waved a hand. “Outdoor spaces.”
“So you think Lucas is being kept outdoors? Not likely.”
“No, it was definitely inside.”
There was something she wasn’t putting together, and it was sitting right on the edge of her mind. There was a connection she was missing because she was feeling stressed and desperate to find the boy.
You know what it’s like to sleep in fear.
“If and when Bernice gets back to me with an answer, I’ll call you immediately.” Bernard craned his neck and glanced at the front of the coffee shop as the bell over the door rang. “I should get going.”
“Thanks for meeting me here.”
“Not a problem. I needed to clear my head anyway.” Bernard slid out of the booth and stood. “I wish I had something else to give you right now, but I don’t.”
“This city is too damn big.”
