Page 45 of Enigma
They both knew it was probably true, but neither suggested changing course. Lloyd was still missing, Olive’s family’s murder was still unsolved, and Oasis held the answers they needed.
“We still have a lot of questions to answer,” Jason finally said.
Olive nodded, then froze as an announcement echoed through the terminal.
“Ladies and gentlemen, Southwest Flight 1247 to Dallas is now beginning the boarding process. We’ll start with our A-group passengers.”
“That’s us.” Jason stood.
As they gathered their minimal belongings and joined the line of passengers heading toward the gate, Olive couldn’t shake the feeling that they were walking into a trap.
But sometimes, she thought, the only way out of a maze was to navigate your way through it.
Even if something dangerous was waiting at the center.
Dallas-Fort Worth International Airport buzzed with the controlled chaos of a major hub.
Olive and Jason had an hour layover before their connecting flight to Austin, and the terminal was packed with travelers dragging luggage, businesspeople on phones, and families corralling restless children.
“I’m going to find a bathroom,” Olive told Jason after they located their gate. “And maybe grab some coffee.”
Jason nodded, already pulling out his phone to check for any updates from Detective Santos. “I’ll stay here and keep an eye on things.”
Olive made her way through the crowded terminal, her eyes constantly scanning for anyone who might be following her.
She saw no one.
She purposefully picked a bathroom located away from the busy gates.
She wanted to make a private phone call.
She locked herself in the farthest stall and pulled out her phone, scrolling to Simon Long’s contact information. Her finger hovered over the Call button for a moment before she pressed it.
The phone rang once. Twice. Three times.
“Come on, Simon,” she whispered. “Pick up.”
It went to the same generic voicemail.
Of course.
She ended the call without leaving another message and released a long sigh.
Whatever game Simon was playing, she needed answers now, not whenever he decided to resurface.
She was so focused on her phone call that she almost didn’t hear the bathroom door open. But the sound of high heels clicking on tile made her look up from her phone.
She’d been the only person in this bathroom, but she’d known other women would soon use it.
Except . . . the footsteps stopped directly outside her stall.
“Olive Sterling,” a woman said on the other side of her door. “We need to talk.”
CHAPTER 29
Ice shot through Olive’s veins.
She quickly slipped her phone into her back pocket, her mind racing.
