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was headed to the toilets. She passed a row of lockers and saw the wife sitting on a bench next to the woman with the cross. They were whispering to each other, both now wearing towels. When they heard her coming, the woman snatched her hands to her sides, as if she’d been caught doing something wrong.
    Jennifer continued on, locking herself into a stall and listening. She heard more whispers, then the rustle of the women standing. She saw a shadow pass by her stall, moving farther into the locker room toward the sauna. She waited a beat, then exited, moving swiftly to their last known location.
    Since they were in towels, it stood to reason they’d changed right in this row of lockers. The lockers themselves had keys that stayed in the doors until used, each with a little accordion wristband. If the door was locked, the key could be removed. When the door was unlocked, the key stayed in the door until the next user came along.
    Jennifer studied the bank and saw that five of the lockers were without keys. She went to her own locker two rows over, broke out her lockpick kit, and returned. Hanging on the inside of locker three’s door she found the cross. She dug through the woman’s belongings until she located a wallet. She laid out anything that looked like official identification, including credit cards, and photographed them with her smartphone. She didn’t waste time with the woman’s purse, not wanting to be discovered. She packed everything up as she’d found it and relocked the door.
    She still had one task left: the photo of the woman. She went back to her locker, intent on rigging a small button-cam in her blouse, then waiting at the juice bar until the woman left. She picked up her clothes, then thought about the sauna. What if she could glean more information besides the nickel task of taking a picture?
    You’re not in danger of compromise. After the picture, you’re out of here.
    She put the clothes back, stripped, and put on her towel. She walked to the sauna and opened the door, the steam and heat hitting her immediately. She heard rustling; then her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she saw the two women sitting very close together.
    She smiled and sat down, her intuition pinging. She said, “Hi. Is it okay if I come in?”
    The woman who had been wearing the cross spoke in accented English. “Yes. Of course.”
    Jennifer sat, and the wife inched away from the woman, leaning in the opposite direction. And Jennifer knew this wasn’t about terrorism.
    They sat for another five minutes; then Jennifer said, “Sorry, but this is a little bit hot for me. I guess it’s something you need to get used to.”
    She stood, and the woman with the cross smiled. Jennifer left and rapidly changed, then spent the remainder of the time waiting at the juice bar. Finally, she saw the wife leave, followed by the woman, now wearing the cross again. She turned on the digital recorder in her purse and tracked them both as they left the facility.

Chapter 4
    Jennifer crossed her arms, clearly pissed, and said, “Pike, I’m telling you they’re tracking the wrong target.”
    “Not our call. Just give ’em what they want and we can go on home.”
    “What do you mean it’s not our call? What do we get paid for? Robot surveillance reports like a red-light camera? Or our judgment?”
    I exhaled, getting to the point she didn’t want to hear. “Jennifer, everything you described is consistent with someone attempting clandestine information sharing. If you ask me, you proved the woman with the cross is the contact.”
    “So you don’t believe me.”
    “Believe what? You won’t say your damn theory. All I know is you found the wife doing something suspicious with another woman in the locker room, which is exactly what Johnny thought you’d find.”
    She glanced out the window, saying nothing, letting me drive.
    We were headed back to the Raffles hotel to turn our—I mean Jennifer’s—information over to Johnny