‘She’s not going to look like her booking photo.’

‘It’s all we have.’

Faith stared at Reuben Figaroa. ‘I don’t like that duffel bag. Even with a million bucks in cash, it doesn’t need to be that big.’

Will followed her gaze to the monitors. Reuben was still sitting at the table staring at his laptop. ‘We had one of our guys sitting near him, but Reuben got spooked, so we had to pull back.’

‘He couldn’t tell what was in the bag?’

‘No, but Reuben’s been looking at pictures of the wife and kid on the laptop, scrolling through them over and over again.’

‘Who’s that?’

Will looked at the big monitor. A young woman was walking toward Reuben. She sat down three tables away. Her head was bent toward her phone. White earbuds disappeared into her hair. She was wearing what most of the other mothers were wearing, some variation on a gym outfit.

Reuben stared at the woman for a long while before turning back to his laptop.

Faith said, ‘Her shoes are wrong.’

Will looked at the red shoes. They were slip-ons. ‘You mean because she’s not wearing sneakers?’

‘A woman who can sit around a mall on a Wednesday morning in her workout clothes doesn’t buy her shoes at Walmart.’ She added, ‘Also, why is she here if she isn’t with a kid?’

Will studied the other women on the periphery of the food court. Invariably they had some form of child attached to them, whether they were holding a baby or dragging a toddler away from Legoland.

Deshawn said, ‘It’s eleven twenty-eight.’

‘Green jacket.’ Faith stepped closer to the monitors. ‘That’s a woman, right?’

An androgynous-looking woman was waiting outside the elevator on the first level. She was wearing dark sunglasses and a Braves baseball cap with the brim pulled low. Her jeans were dark blue. The dark green jacket was zipped almost to her neck. Her hands were tucked into the pockets.

Deshawn said, ‘She doesn’t work here. At least not so that I’ve noticed.’

‘Is that Souza?’ Faith asked. ‘She could have the kid somewhere else, maybe in a car downstairs.’

A second location. The worst of the worst-case scenarios.

Will got on the radio. ‘We need a quiet sweep of the garage. Check for Anthony in a parked car.’

The woman pressed the elevator button again. Her hand went back into her jacket pocket. There was something furtive to her movements. She was clearly nervous.

Will clicked on the radio again. He told Amanda, ‘We might have someone in the elevator. Green jacket. Stand by.’

‘Ten-four,’ Amanda said.

‘She doesn’t look young, right?’ Faith practically had her nose touching the monitor. ‘The way she carries herself. She’s not talking on her phone or listening to music. It’s too hot for that jacket.’

Deshawn said, ‘We’ll see her face when she gets on the elevator.’

The doors slid open. Green Jacket didn’t look up as she got on. She kept her head down, hands still tucked deep into her pockets. The doors started to close, but her arm shot out, stopping it.

‘Shit,’ Faith said. Yet another woman was getting onto the elevator. Tall, blonde ponytail, dressed in a V-necked T-shirt and running shorts. She was trying to wrangle a two-seater baby stroller onto the elevator. An infant was in the front seat. A little girl dressed like a character from the Lego movie slept in the back.

‘I don’t like this,’ Faith said. ‘That’s two kids. Two hostages.’

As they watched, Green Jacket leaned down, gripping the front of the stroller and pulling it onto the elevator. There was an exchange of pleasantries before the doors closed. They silently rode up to the third level.

‘She’s still not looking at the camera,’ Faith said. ‘Nobody keeps their head down all of the time like that.’

Will held the radio to his mouth. ‘Green Jacket, getting off the elevator.’

Phil Brauer stood up from the table. He threw away his coffee cup in the trashcan. Green Jacket helped the blonde maneuver the stroller out of the elevator, then walked toward the movie theater. Brauer sat down at another table. He put his phone to his ear. Will heard the man’s voice on the radio. ‘Can’t tell with the hat. She’s got dark hair. Looks about the right age.’

They all leaned closer to the screens. Green Jacket stood in front of the box office. She looked up at the board that showed the movie times.

‘Is it her?’ Faith asked. ‘I can’t—’

‘Contact,’ Amanda said.

Reuben Figaroa was standing up.

The blonde with the tandem stroller stood on the other side of his table.

Virginia Souza.

The bottom girl had cleaned up well. She had dyed her hair honey blonde instead of bleaching it. Her make-up was understated. Her clothes accentuated her body but didn’t show off too much. The ponytail gave her a more youthful look. She had been here before, taking time to study the other women to make sure she would blend in.

‘It’s Anthony,’ Faith said.

She was right. Anthony was in the back of the stroller. He was dressed in pink. His legs were folded up underneath him. He was too big for the seat. His eyes were closed. They were shaped like Angie’s. His skin was Angie’s. His jeopardy was Angie’s.

Will clicked the radio. ‘It’s her. She has Anthony and an infant in the stroller. There’s a second woman, probably backup, three tables over, red shoes.’

Amanda said, ‘Alpha team, Delta team, lock down.’

She was closing off Legoland and the theater.

Faith asked, ‘What are they saying? They’re just standing there.’

There was obviously a terse exchange going on between Reuben and Souza. Will saw that the man’s fists were tightly clenched. He kept looking at his son, then at Souza, like he couldn’t decide whether or not losing Anthony was worth the pleasure of killing her.

‘She told him about her backup,’ Faith guessed. ‘That’s the only reason he’s not on top of her. Red Shoes has to have a gun.’

‘The iPad,’ Will said, because he knew how these women worked. ‘Souza wants to put Reuben on the hook for more money. She thinks she can get the iPad from Angie.’

Amanda cut in. ‘Brauer texted. He can’t hear them. He can’t see what Red Shoes is doing. Can anyone see her hands?’

Will told her, ‘She’s got her phone in her lap.’

‘The purse,’ Faith said, because like almost every woman there, Red Shoes had a purse that could easily accommodate a handgun.

Phil Brauer moved his chair, turning sideways. He was holding out his cell phone like he needed glasses to read something, using his peripheral vision to check on Green Jacket.

She was still looking at the box office times. She still had her hands in her pockets.

Faith said, ‘They’re sitting down.’

Reuben was in his chair. He didn’t slump like before. His shoulders were straight. His legs were so long that his knees reached the other side of the small table. Souza had to keep her chair pulled back so that she could face him. Her mouth kept moving. She seemed blind to the effect her words were having.