Chapter 30
“Well, I think we’ve hit a new low,” Quinn said.
They were at The Mulia, one of Bali’s newer hotels, later that night, sipping Cosmos and eating shrimp tempura in a blue room the size of half a football field, with huge, cream-colored egg-beater chandeliers, floor-to-ceiling niches filled with cinnabar jars and at least nine stations serving different kinds of cuisine. The dessert station alone had a separate room.
“Really? I think we’re making progress,” Tam said.
“Progress? We were mistaken for child molesters and hustlers.”
“Exactly, in that order. Being seen as a p********e is a lot better than being thought of as a child molester. We’re getting closer to our goal of finding your father. We keep putting ourselves out there, we’re going to meet someone who knows somethin
