Chapter 31
Chapter 31: The Trap in Bloomsbury
Three days later, Alastair called me back. They had found her.
"She’s been loitering around a small coffee shop near the British Museum, about two blocks from Anna's design studio," Alastair reported. "She’s trying to catch Anna alone. She doesn't realize we’ve altered Anna’s daily schedule."
"What’s the plan, Marcus?" I asked, turning to my lawyer.
"We don't need a British warrant, Claire," Marcus smiled, his tone tight with legal strategy. "Sabrina committed a federal crime the moment she used a credit card obtained via fraudulent information to flee the United States while on active probation. The FBI has already issued an international red notice. All the London police need to do is pick her up for a visa violation, and the US Marshals will handle the rest."
"Let's do it," I said. "But I want to look her in the eye when it happens."
"Claire, you're in Virginia," Marcus cautioned.
"I can be in London by tomorrow morning," I replied.
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Twenty-four hours later, I stepped off a flight at Heathrow Airport. I didn't go to a hotel. I took a taxi straight to the Bloomsbury district, meeting Alastair in an unmarked sedan parked down the street from the coffee shop.
Through the rain-streaked window, I saw my sister. She was sitting at an outdoor table under a canvas awning, shivering in the cold damp air, staring intensely at the entrance of the art school across the street. She looked like a ghost of her former self—the expensive jewelry, the designer bags, the arrogant posture all replaced by the raw, ugly reality of a desperate criminal.
