Taken (4 page)

“I’m at the hospital now.” There was a long pause on the line. “There’s been no change. And no news on the search for Sophie, either.”

“I know, Mom, and I’m sorry. So, so sorry.”

“I still can’t believe what happened, but for the moment, I’m worried about you. I don’t think you should have left.”

Kate rubbed the back of her neck, trying to iron out the knots that had formed the past twenty-four hours. She knew her mom was hurting. The last thing she wanted to do was add to her worry.

“You understand that I couldn’t just sit around and do nothing, Mom.”

“Did you find Chad?”

“No. He’s not answering his phone. I think he’s avoiding me.”

“I always knew he wasn’t good for Rachel.”

“We don’t know that he’s behind this—”

“Then why isn’t he here with Rachel, or at least out looking for his daughter?”

“I don’t know, Mom. But I promise I’ll call you if I find out anything. Just don’t worry about me. I’m safe. In fact, I’m here right now with the agent I met at Rachel’s house. Agent O’Brian. He’s promised to help, and to keep me safe. We’re going to find a way through this.”

Kate hung up the call a minute later and drew in a deep breath. For Rachel’s sake—for all of them—she was going to have to pull herself together if she was going to find Sophie.

FOUR

M
arcus glanced at his watch, then knocked on the door of the restroom, worried about Kate. “Kate, are you okay?”

She blew her nose. “Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute.”

His mind kept switching back and forth from relief that she was safe to anger over the fact that she clearly had no idea how to follow instructions. She’d almost gotten herself kidnapped. Or worse. Which was why—no matter what Pierre might have convinced him—he still believed she had no business being here in Paris, no business trying to track down a killer on her own and especially no business worming her way into his heart.

Because he knew how that scenario was going to end before it even started.

He drummed his fingers against his legs, irritated he’d allowed the thought to even cross his mind. He’d learned a hard lesson with Nicole. She’d become the perfect example of how mixing romance and a high-stress job was nothing more than a recipe for failure. He’d once believed—even if it had been briefly—that she was the one. Beautiful in an exotic way, she’d managed to turn his world upside-down in the few months they’d known each other. He’d decided she was worth the risk, but he’d been wrong. Very wrong.

Nicole had forced him to choose between his career and her. He’d tried to convince her there didn’t need to be a choice, but she clearly hadn’t agreed. She’d told him she was tired of his busy schedule, of him not being there when she needed him and of constantly worrying he’d be shot...or worse.

Marcus stared at the closed door. Kate, though, was nothing like Nicole.

He erased that last thought—something he was doing far too often—because the bottom line was that it really didn’t matter what she was like. He moved across the room to look out the window onto the quiet street below, lined with apartments, cafés and a small neighborhood grocery store. He’d always loved Paris. There was something about the people, centuries of history and even the endless miles of subways that had intrigued him. He was used to traveling and dealing with the local authorities. What he hadn’t expected was the emotional reaction this case had managed to bring with it.

And Kate Elliot was at the root of that unexpected response.

“She’s pretty,” Pierre said as Marcus stared out the window.

Marcus turned to the Frenchman. “She’s a handful.”

“I think I’d be enjoying the challenge, if I were you.”

“Don’t get any ideas.”

Pierre’s eyes widened. “You seem to be taking this case rather personally.”

Marcus swallowed his frustration. “It’s personal because I’ve been working this for a long time. Every time I think we’re about to close in on another lead, something goes wrong. At this point, Chad Laurent is our best lead, but now his wife is lying in the hospital, his daughter is missing and we can’t find him. Something’s wrong.”

Pierre nodded at the bathroom door. “Does she know Chad’s connection to the diamonds and weapons smuggling?”

He shook his head. “I haven’t told her anything about that.”

“I still say we use her to get to Chad.”

Marcus lowered his voice. “And I still don’t want her to be bait.”

“She’s the man’s sister-in-law. Maybe she can help us bring him in, because frankly, we can’t afford to let him get away again. She might be the best chance we’ve got.”

“I don’t know.”

“You know I’m right. Don’t let your sense of chivalry get under your skin and taint the situation. Like I told you on the phone, we need her.”

Marcus frowned. His negative reaction to Pierre’s suggestion had nothing to do with chivalry or shows of gallantry. He was simply doing his job. Nothing more, nothing less. Kate had already managed to get herself into enough trouble on her own. How much more of a mess would she get into if they used her to hunt down Chad?

Two minutes later, Kate stepped into the living room, looking more put together than when he’d first found her on the street. He could tell she’d been crying, but he didn’t blame her. She was lucky she was still alive. The guys who’d been after her played for keeps.

And despite his frustration toward her, he had to give her some credit. She was smart, intuitive and clearly took the initiative. Three characteristics he admired. But that admiration of Kate’s characteristics was bound to get him into a heap of trouble if he didn’t stop now and rein in his meandering thoughts.

“How about I run across the street and get some coffee and sandwiches for the three of us?” Pierre offered. “I don’t know about you, but I missed breakfast.”

Marcus nodded. “Thanks. That would be nice.”

He sat down on the edge of a plaid, padded armchair in the living room, feeling awkward as Pierre left them alone. But it was time to get to work. He had a number of questions to ask, and he needed answers. Not that this was an interrogation, not officially at least, but there were things he wanted to know before they could go any further and he was convinced she knew things that could help him find Chad.

“Why don’t you sit down. If it hasn’t already, jet lag will be hitting you soon.”

She nodded, then sat down on the couch across from him.

He reached into his briefcase, pulled out Rachel’s journal and photo albums, and set them on the wooden coffee table between them.

Kate’s gaze narrowed as she recognized them. “You read her journal?”

“It’s evidence.”

“Evidence?” Kate stood up and started pacing in front of him. “Do you know how upset my sister would be knowing the government is reading her private thoughts?”

Marcus tapped the floor with his foot at the fumble he’d clearly just made. This wasn’t the way to get her to help him. “I’m sorry, but she doesn’t have too much to worry about. So far, I haven’t been able to decipher much of it.”

“My sister has her own kind of shorthand.”

“So I’ve discovered. I was hoping you would be able to help me interpret it. Do you think you can read it?”

She stopped pacing and caught his gaze. “It’s my sister’s journal.”

“I know, but you want to find your niece.” He opened the book to a marked page, then handed it to her. “For example, who’s Ace? She mentions him around the time she was in Paris.”

“I don’t know. Rachel...she always makes up nicknames for people.”

“Like?”

“Growing up she called me Kit Kat. Sophie’s always been Pumpkin.”

“And Chad?”

“She called him Beau.”

“So this name...Ace...could be anyone.”

“Yes. I’m sorry. I really don’t know. Why do you want to find him?”

“I’m the one asking the questions for the moment.”

She plopped back onto the couch. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not the enemy here. I will do anything I can to help my sister and find my niece—including working with you—but I don’t know why that needs to include an interrogation.”

“I’m sorry.” Marcus pinched the bridge of his noise. He needed to quit saying he was sorry, as much as he needed her to understand he was trying to help. “This isn’t an interrogation. Listen. I’ll make you a deal. Let me ask you what I need to know, then I’ll answer anything you want.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

His phone rang, and he grabbed it out of his front pocket. She was right. She didn’t deserve to be put in a position where she felt like the enemy.

A moment later he hung up the phone and slipped it back into his pocket. “Our conversation will have to wait. They need me down at the station in regards to that stolen car that chased us.”

She scooted forward on the couch. “I’ll come with you—”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now, but I’ll be back in an hour or so.” He tried to ignore the disappointment in her eyes. “Pierre is on his way with lunch, along with one of the female French agents, who will stay here with you until I get back.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” she shot back.

“If I remember correctly, you were needing a bit of help when I showed up.”

Her frown deepened, making him feel guilty again for provoking her.

“Kate, please. I’m not trying to argue with you.” He paused while trying to categorize his thoughts. “This isn’t personal. I just want to keep you safe.”

Except it was becoming personal. No matter how he tried to keep things strictly business, his heart wasn’t complying. She stared up at him with those wide eyes, making him want to draw her into his arms and promise her that he’d fix everything. Which irritated him all the more. He’d never had problems keeping his professional life separate from his personal life. Kate Elliot was just another case. A source he might be able to use to his advantage.

Nothing more. Nothing less.

But if that was true, then why did his heart wish he could stay?

* * *

Kate’s phone rang, jolting her awake. She opened her eyes and stared at the sunlight filtering through flowery drapes, trying to figure out where she was. Her mind clicked through the events of the past forty-eight hours in rapid succession. Rachel’d been shot. Sophie was missing. She was in Paris. And Marcus... She still wasn’t sure what to think about the too-good-looking agent.

She grabbed the phone off the bedside table of the room she’d been given. Marcus had left the apartment after a call, leaving her with Jocelyn and Pierre, who’d thankfully left her alone for the most part without hounding her with too many more questions. After lunch, Jocelyn, the forty-something-year-old agent with ebony skin and dark brown eyes, had suggested Kate take a short nap until Marcus returned in order to fight off the jet lag, and Kate had agreed.

She checked the caller ID.

Chad?

Kate’s stomach lurched as she quickly sat up and answered the phone. “Chad? Where are you?”

“You shouldn’t have gotten involved,” he said.

She glanced at the closed door of her bedroom and lowered her voice. “I shouldn’t have gotten involved? Rachel was shot, and you’re telling me that I shouldn’t have gotten involved?”

“I’m sorry.” There was a long pause on the line. “All of this is my fault.”

“Why?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Then at least tell me where you are. We need to talk.”

“We can’t meet.”

“I’m not here to play games, Chad. You owe me an explanation.”

“Who’s the man you were with this morning?”

He knew about Marcus?

“What man?” she asked.

“You got into a car with him.”

“He’s just a friend. Someone I met back in the States recently.” She might not be sure what to think about the good-looking agent, but that didn’t mean Chad needed to know she was helping the FBI. Not yet, anyway. “How do you know?”

“That doesn’t matter, but don’t lie to me, Kate. He’s with the authorities.”

She hesitated briefly. “They want to make sure I’m safe. Your friends...or whoever they were...tried to grab me off the street.”

“I’m sorry about that, but I can’t have the police involved.”

“You keep saying you’re sorry.” Kate heard her voice rise a notch. “But sorry doesn’t exactly cut it. Just tell me where Sophie is, and I’ll be happy to leave. With her.”

“I don’t know. You have to believe me. I never meant for any of this to happen. They...” His voice trailed off.

“They what, Chad?”

“I can’t tell you. I’m in far too deep.”

Kate frowned, but she wasn’t about to give up. She needed a different approach. “I have a feeling we can help each other. Please.”

Another long pause followed. Kate’s heart pounded. She had to make this work.

“Chad?”

“I’ll talk to you, if you come alone. You’ll have to make sure you aren’t followed.”

“I’ll do anything you say, if it helps find Sophie.”

“Can you get to Notre Dame by two o’clock?”

Kate glanced at the clock on the bedside table. That would give her an hour. The safe house was in the Latin Quarter, and while she wasn’t sure how far it was, walking should be an option. “I’ll be there.”

“But, Kate...if I find out that you have a tail, I’ll disappear and I promise, you’ll never see me again.”

* * *

Marcus walked down the crowded street in the heart of the Latin Quarter from the metro and was reminded as to why he loved this city. The safe house they’d secured was located in an eighteenth-century building, a perfect place to disappear. Winding cobblestone streets were filled with quaint cafés, restaurants, boutiques and open markets, along with famous museums and squares. To anyone who saw him walking toward the historic apartment building, he was just another happy tourist here on holiday.

“Marcus?” Pierre’s voice came through his radio earpiece, reminding him he wasn’t here to relax. The lead he’d gone in for had been nothing more than another dead end. It was time they finished this.

Marcus pushed on the earpiece. “Go ahead, Pierre.”

“I’ve got good news and bad news.”

“Something tells me I’m not going to like this.”

Marcus stopped in front of a pasta restaurant with a wide red awning and tables, filled with customers, set up along the sidewalk. “What’s going on?”

“Kate received a phone call, then slipped out of the apartment—”

“She what?”

“Jocelyn and I were in the kitchen talking. We thought she was still in her room on the phone.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Marcus started walking again, quickening his pace down the street toward the apartment. “What in the world was she thinking?”

“We’re thinking one of two things. Either Chad called or the kidnappers called.”

Marcus agreed. More than likely, neither of them would want the authorities involved. And as for Kate, his clear, simple instructions to stay put the next hour hadn’t been enough.

“How long ago?”

“Five...ten minutes at the most. She’s not answering her phone, but she’s headed in the direction of Notre Dame.”

“How do you know?”

“That’s the good news. We just managed to catch up with her.” Pierre gave him their location. “She’s a block ahead of us.”

“Then you need to catch up with her and bring her in.”

“I’m not sure that’s the best idea,” Pierre began.

Marcus frowned. “What do you mean?”

As far as he was concerned, the
best
idea would have been to go with his gut instincts and already have her on the next flight to the United States. She clearly didn’t trust him, which was going to make it difficult to get her to help them.