Taken (11 page)

“You’re right. I can’t promise everything will be okay,” he said. “But I can promise we will do everything we can to find Sophie. People are praying for your sister, Kate, and while I know God doesn’t always fix things the way we think He should, He’s still right here. Walking with you each step of the way.”

She nodded, wanting to believe him. Wanting to believe everything would be okay.

I know You’re there, God, but even that knowledge doesn’t always stop me from feeling gripped with the fear. Help me to feel Your presence. To trust You’re there.

She looked up at Marcus and studied his face. There was that hint of a five-o’clock shadow, and a concern in his blue eyes that suggested both compassion and unease. She was grateful for the sense of protection and safety he brought, but knew he was right. Even with all of the resources he brought to the table, he couldn’t promise everything would be okay.

I can’t control this situation, or fix it, for that matter, God. I need You now. Please. Show us what to do.

“Can I share something with you?” he asked.

She nodded, his question pulling her out of her thoughts.

“As you might have noticed, I’m not exactly the emotional type, but we’re doing a Bible study in my small men’s group at church on David that has had me look at emotion in a different light.” He laced their fingers together. “When you read through the Psalms you can’t help but see David’s deep emotion, and sometimes, even, his fear. There were times when he wept out loud to the point of exhaustion.”

Kate considered his words. “I guess I’ve never thought of David as being afraid. I mean, he faced a giant and killed him when no one else would.”

“I don’t know, but maybe sometimes, the healthiest thing to do is to simply stop and weep. And that’s okay.” A shadow crossed Marcus’s face. “Loss changes a person. You know that. I know that.”

* * *

Marcus’s gaze shifted away from her for a moment. Graphic photographs of crime scenes that would never be erased from his memory flipped through his mind. No matter how much he tried to distance himself, each victim had left a lasting scar he tried daily to erase.

“I suppose you and I are somewhat alike in the emotional department,” he continued. “I was always the older sibling who took care of everyone else. Sometimes it’s hard to be the one who has to carry that burden. Especially when you’re hurting, as well.”

“Yes, it is.” She nudged him with her elbow. “But I suppose having that soft side isn’t so bad.”

“Maybe not, but I’ve always made it a priority to not allow my work to become personal. If I did, I’m not sure how I’d handle most of my cases.” He hesitated. “But there’s something different about this case. Something that makes me want to forget I’m working a case.”

A smile played on the edges of her lips. “Meaning?”

“Meaning I’m having a hard time seeing this as just another case to close.” He struggled to put what he was feeling into words. “I’m having a hard time seeing
you
as just another source in a case, instead of a beautiful woman sitting beside me in one of the most beautiful cities in the world.”

He watched her face for her reaction, knowing he’d gone too far, but couldn’t read her expression. Surprise? Interest? The bottom line, though, was that there were reasons for keeping his work and personal life separate, and he’d just crossed that line.

“I’m sorry—” he began.

“We’re too different, you know.” He couldn’t tell if she was trying to convince him or herself. “You’re an FBI agent. I’m a photographer and currently a student. You run on adrenaline, while I prefer my boring, ordinary life in the suburbs.”

He swallowed hard. “Which is only one of many reasons why it wasn’t appropriate for me to say what I did.”

Kate shook her head, her smile still lingering. “Unless I’m feeling the same way.”

Marcus hesitated before responding, aware of every reason why he should stop this conversation. They
were
too different. They lived in completely different worlds, and when this case was closed she’d walk out of his life. But he was also a man, and the way he felt wasn’t because he felt sorry for her and her situation, or even him trying to step in and be the hero.

It was that something about her had drawn her to him. Her strength, her faith, her honesty...and that unexplainable, electrical feeling between them he couldn’t ignore. Her face hovered in front of him, allowing him to breathe in the now-familiar citrusy scent of her perfume. Close enough for him to kiss her.

Ignoring the voice of reason in his head, he leaned in and brushed his lips across hers. Just for a moment. Just long enough for him to discover that he hadn’t imagined the attraction between them.

Her phone rang beside her on the couch. She pulled away from him, then checked the caller ID.

“Bad timing, but it’s my mom, hopefully with some good news.”

“Wait...” He rested his hand over the phone. “Just so you know, I don’t usually—okay, ever—kiss those I’m working with.”

“And I don’t usually—ever—kiss handsome FBI agents.”

“So we’re okay?”

She nodded, but the smile that had been playing on the edges of her lips disappeared as she answered the call. Marcus glanced at his watch and prayed for good news. Prayed that Rachel was finally awake. Because time for Sophie was running out and they needed answers.

ELEVEN

K
ate stood up and walked back toward the window to take her mother’s call while Marcus stepped into the small, adjacent kitchen to give her some privacy. “Mom...I was hoping you’d call. How’s Rachel? Is she awake yet?”

Please, God. Please let Rachel be awake...

“Not yet. I’m sorry, Kate.” There was tension in her mother’s voice, along with fatigue. She knew her mother well. Knew that she’d be at that hospital at Rachel’s side every moment possible, even it if meant not getting the rest she needed to keep going.

“How are you coping, Mom?” Kate tried to mask the disappointment in her voice.

“I’m tired, but okay. The women at church have been amazing. Always insisting I eat and get enough rest.”

“And are you getting enough rest?” Kate asked, postponing the inevitable question about Rachel.

“Probably not, but the doctor gave me some sleeping pills that have helped. Eugenia makes sure I sleep at home at night and is even staying with me.”

“I’m glad to hear that. You need your rest, and there isn’t anything you can do for Rachel right now beyond being with her—and taking care of yourself.”

Kate had talked to Eugenia, one of her mother’s closest friends, before she left, asking if she would step in while she was gone and ensure her mother got enough rest. Thankfully, Eugenia had readily agreed.

“What about Sophie?” her mother asked. “Have you found out anything? Do you know who has her? The police have told me very little on this end.”

It was the question Kate had been dreading to answer, as she’d yet to decide how much she should tell her mom. Did she share with her that her granddaughter was being held by people involved in diamond and weapons smuggling? That she was planning to make the exchange in less than forty-eight hours? And that if they didn’t find the diamonds they might never see Sophie alive again?

She settled for leaving out the details for the moment, hoping her mother wouldn’t press for answers until she had something positive to give her. Dealing with Rachel’s injuries was enough on her mother’s plate for the moment.

“There are still more questions than answers, Mom, but they are following every lead they have.”

“I just don’t understand, Kate. Tell me this doesn’t have anything to do with Chad? He might not have ended up being the perfect husband, but I can’t see him doing anything to harm Sophie or Rachel.” Her mother paused to take a deep breath. “On the other hand, if this was just a random kidnapping...I think that’s even more terrifying.”

“Chad wasn’t behind the kidnapping, but there is something you need to know, Mom.” Kate stared at the apartments across the street with their colorful rows of flower boxes filled with hydrangeas, geraniums and roses. “I met with Chad this afternoon.”

“You saw him?”

“I don’t know how to tell you this, but he was hit by a truck after he left the church where we met.”

“What? Is...is he okay?”

Kate paused, wishing she were there with her mother. Hating the fact that she was having to tell her this over the phone. “He didn’t make it, Mom.”

“No...” Her mom’s voice caught. She was crying in the background. “How am I going to tell Rachel? Sophie and Chad...despite their marriage issues, they’re her world.”

“I don’t know, Mom. All we can do is take it one day at a time.” She needed to know more about Rachel. “What are the doctors saying about Rachel, Mom? How long until she wakes up?”

Kate waited for her mother’s answer, needing Rachel to be okay. Needing to be able to talk with her.

“I don’t know. What I do know is that she’s not doing well. That’s the real reason I called, Kate. The doctors haven’t said much, but I can tell they’re worried. I can hear it in their voices. See it in their eyes. They’ve put her back on a breathing machine, and she’s not responding the way she should. The doctors have decided to keep her in a medically induced coma for now.”

Kate bit the side of her lip as a wave of nausea swept through her. That meant they were going to have to somehow find the diamonds without her sister’s help.

God, we need Rachel to wake up. She is the only one who has answers that will help us get Sophie back.

“I want you to come home, Kate. It’s not safe. The police implied to me that Chad
and
Rachel were involved in something illegal, but I can’t believe that. Not about Rachel anyway. I don’t know how to handle this.”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out, Mom. And please understand...as much as I want to be there with you right now.” Kate fought the rising guilt for saying no, but there was no other option at the moment. Not if they wanted to get Sophie back alive. “I can’t leave until I find Sophie. I’m working with the authorities here and staying at a safe house.”

“I can’t lose you both, Kate.” Her mom sobbed. “You’re all I have, you, Rachel and Sophie.”

“Please don’t cry. You’re not going to lose me, Mom. I’m safe.”

For now anyway.

“What do you know about him?” her mother asked. “This agent—Marcus—you told me about?”

“He’s with the FBI, and he wants the same thing we do. He wants the men who hurt Rachel caught.”

“Do you trust him?”

“Completely.” She glanced over at him. He was talking to someone on his cell phone in the tiny kitchen. She trusted him because she had to trust someone. Trusted him because he’d never given her reason to not trust him.

“If you won’t come home, then you must promise me you’ll be careful, Kate. Promise me that. Please.”

“You know I will, Mom. And I love you, Mom. You know that.”

“I love you, too, Kate. Bring Sophie home as soon as you can.”

* * *

Marcus hung up his cell phone in the small kitchen, then started pulling out plates and silverware for dinner while Kate spoke to her mother. He wished he could ignore the lingering feeling of her lips against his...and the light touch of her hand against his arm. Because she’d been right. They were too different, and he was fooling himself to think that whatever was happening between them could ever turn into a serious relationship beyond Paris.

But for some reason that knowledge hadn’t been enough to stop him from kissing her. Which had him questioning his decisions. Relationships were complicated and messy, and ending up hurt wasn’t a place where he wanted to go again. But on the other hand, Kate wasn’t Nicole. And just because Nicole had hurt him, didn’t mean there wasn’t someone else out there who could love him wholly and unconditionally.

Someone like Kate.

Shoving his turbulent thoughts of Kate aside for the moment, he pulled out four plates and set them on the counter. Whatever feelings had passed between them were going to have to wait, because what mattered right now was getting the information they needed from Rachel. The clock was ticking, and they needed to know where the music boxes had been sent. Without Rachel, it was going to be a shot in the dark unless Kate was able to decipher her journal and figure out the truth.

As for the exchange, he planned to talk to Pierre and Jocelyn about their plan, but as far as he was concerned—assuming they had the diamonds by then—he didn’t want Kate anywhere near it.

He pulled open the silverware drawer as Kate stepped into the kitchen. The smile she’d had earlier had vanished and her face had paled.

“Kate...what’d your mom say?”

“It’s been rough.”

“And your sister? Is she awake yet?”

Kate shook her head. “They’ve had to put her back on the ventilator. She’s still in a coma.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“So am I. Because unless we find those diamonds...”

She didn’t need to finish her sentence. They both knew what was at stake.

“If you don’t mind, I need to freshen up a bit.”

He caught the fatigue in her eyes and nodded, wishing he could make things right again for her.

Ten minutes later, Pierre and Jocelyn walked into the apartment with takeout for the four of them. The smell of garlic and spices permeated the apartment as they set the food onto the small dining room table. Kate had washed her face and freshened her makeup, but a hint of redness still registered in her eyes as she greeted them.

“Hope you both love Chinese,” Pierre said.

“I didn’t think I was hungry, but it does smell good,” Kate offered.

“Not very Parisian, but I hope it will do. Beef with scallions and ginger, fried rice and cashew chicken.” Jocelyn smoothed down her tan skirt, then started pulling the food out of the sacks. “And, Kate, I don’t know what to say about your brother-in-law, except I’m really, really sorry.”

“Thank you, though I don’t think the reality of the situation has completely sunk in yet,” Kate said.

“They know they need to keep her alive and well if they want the diamonds,” Pierre added.

“I hope, but I have so many questions. They already have Sophie. Why the need to grab me off the streets? It doesn’t add up.”

“We keep asking ourselves the same thing, because you’re right. It doesn’t add up,” Jocelyn said. “What about your sister?”

Kate glanced at Marcus before answering. “I just got off the phone with my mother a few minutes ago. She’s still unconscious.”

“So we still don’t have any idea where she sent the music boxes,” Pierre said.

“Marcus thinks there might be a clue in her journal.”

“It’s worth a try.”

“I have to try. She sent those diamonds to someone. If I want to get Sophie back, I need to find out who.”

* * *

Marcus set the journals and albums onto the table beside the food. “I hate to make this a working dinner, but time isn’t exactly on our side.”

Kate started with the latest journal, turning pages between small bites of beef and fried rice. Journaling—along with her own version of shorthand—was a habit Rachel had picked up during high school.

“You can read that?” Marcus asked.

Kate held up her phone, where she’d looked up a cheat sheet to help decipher some of the phrases. “Enough to get the gist of most of it. We used to send notes to each other like this. It’s a mixture of typical shorthand, using symbols and abbreviations for words and common phrases, along with our own ‘language.’ Rachel kept at it, though, and always used it when writing in her journals. It used to drive my mom crazy when she found one of our notes.”

“You told me that she uses nicknames for everyone. Ace is the one I noticed a number of times from her time in Paris that you didn’t know.”

“I’ll look for that name and see if I can put it in context.”

She read through the pages, trying to sort through Rachel’s shorthand, while the others looked through the photos. Setting aside the guilty feeling that came with it was proving to be impossible. A guilt over feeling as if she were trying to pry into her sister’s private thoughts.

An hour later, Kate dropped the journal back onto the table, needing to take a break. Jocelyn and Pierre had already cleared away dinner, giving them more room to work on the small table.

“Anything?” Marcus asked.

Kate began flipping through the pages of one of the photo albums. “Nothing that seems to relate to what’s happening now. Their marriage was clearly in trouble, but I don’t think she knew anything about what Chad was involved in. In fact, she makes it very clear that she wanted to save their relationship. I know Rachel. If she knew what Chad was involved in and the danger it posed to her family, I think she’d have considered walking away before endangering Sophie’s life.”

Marcus tapped one of the photos of her and Rachel together. “Is that you and your sister?”

“Yes.”

“You really do look a lot alike.”

Kate took the album from him and smiled, feeling nostalgic over the shot. “I took her to the airport that day. She was on her way to Paris, hopeful she could work things out with Chad.”

“Would you like some café?” Jocelyn asked, setting a tray of coffee cups and a pot onto the table. “It’s decaf.”

“I’d love some. Thank you,” Kate said.

“I would, too,” Marcus said. “Thank you, Jocelyn.”

“What about Chad’s relatives?” Pierre set down a plate with an assortment of petits fours from the bakery across the street and sat down. “Parents? Siblings? I know the police are still trying to contact his father, who lives here in Paris. His name is Andre Laurent.”

“I don’t know a lot about his family. Chad is—was—an only child. His mother died from breast cancer a few years back if I remember correctly,” Kate said. While the fear still lingered, at least they were trying to find a solution. “His father came to their wedding in Dallas. He was a nice man, and he seemed happy to have Rachel as a part of his family.”

“Have the police been able to speak with him yet?” Marcus asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

Pierre shook his head. “He’s not picking up his cell phone, and he’s not at his apartment.”

“As soon as they find him, we need to question him,” Marcus said.

“Here’s another question.” Kate took a sip of the coffee Marcus had poured her. “I think I understand how Chad stole the diamonds, but how was he intending to sell them without getting caught? You can’t flood the market with diamonds without someone noticing.”

“It’s the same question every thief has to answer,” Pierre said, eyeing the dessert tray, before picking up a small square piece of cake covered in pink fondant. “It seems like every few years or so someone tries to walk away with a fortune, but when they try to unload it...well, that’s where they get caught.”

“Pierre is right,” Marcus said. “If it’s a famous painting, for example, you can’t exactly sell it on eBay. You have to sell it on the black market, where someone will hide it away among their private collection. And diamonds are the same. You can have them cut and polished, but flooding the market will ultimately raise questions.”

“But isn’t there a difference between breaking into a jewelry shop,” Kate said, “and what Chad did? He might have been wrong, but he
assumed
no one knew what he was doing.”

“True, but I’d think he’d still want to lay low,” Jocelyn said. “If it were me, I’d have them cut and polished so there would be no way to trace them, but you’d still need to be careful. He wouldn’t have wanted anyone to know—his bosses especially—what he was doing.”