Buch lesen: «Taken»

ONE

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”

Kate Elliot pressed her cell phone against her ear with her shoulder as she fumbled to open her sister’s front door with her spare key. The lock stuck. “My sister... I think... I think she’s been shot.”

“What is the location of the emergency, ma’am?”

Kate squeezed her eyes shut, fighting back tears as she gave the woman her sister’s address.

“The paramedics are en route now, ma’am.”

Thirty seconds later, Kate managed to open the door. She stepped inside the two-story house in the upscale Dallas suburb, her heart pounding. Dora the Explorer giggled on the flat-screen TV in the living room. The normally immaculate house had been completely trashed.

“Rachel!” She screamed out her sister’s name.

Kate picked up the remote, froze Dora’s character, then called for her sister again, but only an eerie silence greeted her. Trying not to panic, she checked quickly through the downstairs.

There was no sign of her sister.

She headed up the stairs straight for the master bedroom. Like the rest of the house, the room had been trashed. Bedding lay in mounds on the floor, framed photos had been ripped off the walls and dresser drawers dumped onto the floor. Their contents lay strewn across the bloodstained carpet—all telltale signs of the horror that had taken place moments before.

Rachel lay still on her back in the middle of the room.

Kate dropped to her knees beside her sister, avoiding a thick shard of glass from a broken mirror, and grasped Rachel’s wrist. The monotone beeping from the receiver of the landline vied for attention against a pulse that was steady but weak.

Rachel groaned and opened her eyes.

“Don’t move, sweetie. I’m here.” Fighting back the tears, Kate wiped off the perspiration that had beaded across Rachel’s ashen forehead.

“They broke in through the back door... They had guns... It all happened so fast...”

“An ambulance is almost here, and they’ll get you to the hospital. You’re going to be okay, Rachel. I promise.”

Kate’s gaze shot to her sister’s bloodstained dress and realized it was a promise she might not be able to keep. “Rachel, stay with me. Please.”

Grabbing a bathrobe off the floor, Kate pressed the fuzzy garment against Rachel’s abdomen where the bullet had entered. The white material immediately took on a deep crimson stain.

Oh, God, please don’t take her now. Not this way.

Rachel’s eyes widened as she gasped for air. “Sophie... They took Sophie.”

“Sophie’s fine, honey. She’s with Mom.” Kate forced her voice to stay calm despite the sick feeling spreading through her. Rachel had to be mistaken. Sophie spent every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning with Grams. And today was Monday.

But if that was true, why had Dora been on?

Rachel’s mouth twisted from the pain. “No...Mom couldn’t keep her today. Her arthritis is flaring up again.”

The walls of Kate’s stomach contracted. Surely someone hadn’t taken her four-year-old niece. She brushed back a strand of Rachel’s auburn hair. “I didn’t see her when I came in, but if she’s not with Mom, she has to be here somewhere.”

Kate glanced at the open door of the bedroom, trying not to imagine what Sophie might have seen. Armed men breaking in and tearing apart the house. Her mother shot. And if they had taken her...

“Sophie?” she shouted. “Are you here, sweetie? It’s Auntie Kate.”

No response.

Kate pressed harder against Rachel’s wound to try to stop the bleeding, as her mind scrambled to put together a time line. She’d arrived moments after Rachel’s call, unclear from her sister’s frantic speech as to what had happened, other than the chilling words that she’d been shot.

They shot me, Kit Kat. Hurry...please. I can’t...

The moment she’d stepped into her sister’s house, it had been clear that something was terribly wrong. Someone had been here, systematically going through every inch of the house. Looking for something. But what?

The tug to find Sophie grew stronger, but for now, she had no choice but to stay with her sister.

“Rachel, I need you to try to focus for a minute. Who shot you?”

Rachel’s gaze narrowed. “Two men.”

Kate listened for signs that someone was still in the house, while trying to swallow the terror. “Do you know them?”

Rachel shook her head.

“What about Sophie?”

“They took her.” A shriek erupted from Rachel’s lips as she fought to sit up. “I know they did. They took my baby.”

Kate held Rachel tighter. She had to be mistaken. “Sophie has to be here. What reason would anyone have to take her?”

Rachel’s breathing grew raspier. “I don’t know.”

Kate glanced at the window. Where was the ambulance?

“You have to know something, Rachel. They were here, looking for something. What were they looking for?”

“I said I don’t know.”

Kate frowned. If Sophie was missing—and Rachel didn’t make it—they were going to need every clue possible to find her. “Try to think. Please. Does this have anything to do with Chad?”

She’d never known Rachel’s husband to be abusive, but that didn’t mean their marriage had always been amiable.

Kate remembered that Saturday Rachel had met her for lunch and told her not only that she was pregnant, but that she was going to marry the baby’s father. Rachel had spent that summer in Europe, traveling with a group of friends, and had fallen for the first Frenchman who’d caught her eye. Kate might not have approved of the relationship, but she’d seen the love Rachel had for Chad and prayed that they’d find a way to make it work. They’d all hoped for happily-ever-after. But sometimes life didn’t turn out that way.

“When I went to see him...in Paris...he told me he was scared.” Rachel choked out the words. “He told me they would do anything to...to get what they wanted.”

Kate tried to put together the pieces. Rachel had left for Paris three months ago to try to patch up her relationship with her husband, Chad. When she returned, Rachel had distanced herself, never opening up about the trip. Kate had assumed her silence was her way to deal with her failing marriage. Now she realized it had to be much more than that. She’d always feared Chad and Rachel’s relationship might one day end in divorce. She’d worried about how Sophie would handle the loss of a father, and how Rachel would cope as a single mom, but she’d never considered the scenario they were facing now. Not the reality of her sister fighting for her life.

“Who are they?” Kate asked. “What do they want?”

Sirens screamed in the distance.

“I think he’s involved in something illegal,” Rachel said.

“What?”

“He wouldn’t tell me.”

“Did Chad take Sophie?”

“No, but it could be...someone he’s involved with.”

Flashing lights from the ambulance reflected against the beige walls of the bedroom. Kate heard the front door slam against the foyer wall and shouted to the paramedics to come upstairs.

Rachel gripped Kate’s forearm. “Promise...promise me you’ll find her, Kate. Don’t let anything happen to her. Please...please, Kate...she’s all I have.”

Kate nodded at her sister. “You know I’ll do everything I can. I promise.”

The following minutes clicked by like a hazy fog. Kate stood at the edges of the room, watching the paramedics try to stabilize Rachel. She’d already explained to one of the officers that not only had her sister been shot, but her niece was missing. The room tilted as they searched the house for Sophie. Nausea spread through her. Nothing made sense. Rachel was a mom who worked part-time as a hairdresser at a local beauty shop. Someone clearly wanted something that was worth killing for, but what? And why would they take Sophie?

Thirty minutes later, Kate stood in the waiting room while doctors rushed to save Rachel’s life.

As she leaned against one of the walls, an officer approached her and began peppering her with questions. Though sympathetic, he wanted answers—fast. Did she know who had shot her sister? Did she know where her niece was?

Kate caught the young officer’s gaze, fighting the urge to scream. No. She didn’t have any answers. Didn’t know who had shot Rachel. Didn’t know where Sophie was.

As he continued to ask her questions she had no clue how to answer, she thought about calling her mother and the pastor from their church, but had no idea what to say. How was she supposed to break the news to her mother that Rachel might be dying and Sophie was missing?

She wondered if they should expect a ransom note. That was how they did it on television. Cops or FBI agents waited with the grieving family until the kidnappers called to make their demands. They needed to find out what they were after, and if this were somehow connected to Chad, because Rachel didn’t have the kind of money kidnappers would demand.

Which meant she needed to talk with Chad. She tried his preprogrammed number she’d kept on her phone. No answer. Despite their failing marriage, Kate couldn’t imagine the man shooting Rachel and leaving her for dead. The two might have had their issues, but she didn’t think Chad was capable of murder—or even kidnapping, for that matter.

Except all the signs were there. Possible divorce, a string of heated arguments, and if he was involved in something illegal... Even if he hadn’t been here, Chad had to know something.

She punched in his number again, wondering what time it was in Paris right now. Wondering why he wasn’t answering.

Only one thing was clear at the moment. She was going to keep her promise to her sister and find Sophie.

* * *

Monday afternoon, Marcus O’Brian slid the key into the front door of the upscale house and slipped past the yellow tape. Operation Solitaire had turned into a yearlong investigation with diamonds being smuggled into the United States in exchange for military-grade weapons for a number of third-world African countries. And his search had led him here.

After weeks of dead ends, he still had more questions than answers. Which was why coming here was a long shot, but it wasn’t one he was willing to dismiss. Chad Laurent, half French, half American, might be working as a legitimate buyer for an international jewelry company, but now Marcus had compelling evidence Chad was buying and selling diamonds sourced from illegitimate channels; uncertified diamonds that had been smuggled into the international market and in turn sold as legitimate gems. And now on top of that, the man was a prime suspect in an attempted murder case and kidnapping charges of his wife and daughter.

He stepped through the front door and studied the layout of the three-bedroom, two-story house that had been ransacked—open-concept living room, dining room and kitchen, with a wide staircase to the second floor. Among the chaos were picture books, puzzles, stacks of children’s DVDs and colorful drawings hanging on the fridge. He went over in his mind everything he knew about Rachel Elliot Laurent. Married for five years, but currently separated from her husband. There was no evidence of abuse, which was why the shooting seemed out of character if Chad was behind it. Or at least unexpected. But the rules of the game had changed, and he had a feeling that Rachel wasn’t as innocent as she’d portrayed herself to be in their interview three days before the shooting.

Something about her demeanor had rubbed him the wrong way. She’d insisted she knew nothing about Chad’s possible illegal activities, especially now that her husband had relocated to Paris six months ago, but she’d been hiding something. He was certain of it.

He heard a noise upstairs. Marcus’s pulse shot up a notch. Someone else was in the house. He took the stairs to the second floor slowly, gun drawn, senses alert to the unfamiliar sounds of the house. According to his contact within the local PD, no one should be here. More than likely it was someone who’d decided to take advantage of the empty house, or a family member who didn’t care that this was a crime scene. If he were lucky, the perpetrator had returned to the scene of the crime.

He stepped through the doorway of the master bedroom and stopped. A woman knelt beside an open wooden chest facing away from him, going through the contents. Like the rest of the house, the room had been trashed, but here, blood stained the light-colored carpet. The crime scene unit had already swept the house for evidence, but whoever she was, she clearly wasn’t supposed to be here.

“I want you to put your hands in the air and stand up slowly.” He held his weapon level and aimed it at her as she stood and turned toward him, clearly alarmed by his presence.

“Who are you?” she asked as she followed his instructions.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He took a step toward her. Recognition skirted his memory as he searched for a name. “Kate Elliot?”

Her frown deepened. “How do you know my name?”

“I know your sister. Wow. The two of you could be twins.”

“Irish twins, actually. We were born eleven months apart. But that doesn’t answer the question of what you’re doing here.”

He stopped midstride, and pulled back the front of his black tailored sports coat. “My name is Marcus O’Brian. I’m with the FBI, investigating what happened to your sister.”

He studied her briefly—shoulder-length, reddish-blond hair pulled up in a ponytail, intense hazel-colored eyes. Something struck him about the intensity of her posture, like a mama bear defending her cubs. But why not? Her sister had been shot and her niece was missing. And from her defiant expression, she didn’t believe he was one of the good guys.

“Why is the FBI involved?” she asked.

He lowered his weapon and reholstered it. He didn’t have evidence that Rachel was involved in her husband’s illegal activities, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to keep digging. “I can’t talk about that.”

“Do you know who shot her?”

“No...but I am sorry.” He knew she was hurting, but showing empathy had never been his strong point. “How is she?”

“She came out of surgery, but she’s still unconscious. And the last I heard there were still no firm leads on my niece’s whereabouts.”

“Were you here when she was shot?”

“No, but I was on my way. I found her here. Whoever shot her took Sophie and left Rachel to bleed to death.”

“Do you have any idea who might have wanted to hurt her?” he asked.

“No. I’ve already told the police everything I do know, which isn’t much.”

“Like I said, I’m not with the police.”

“Don’t you share information?”

“Yes, but I’m in the middle of a separate investigation connected to her husband.”

“Chad?” The fatigue in her eyes deepened. “Do you think Chad is behind my sister getting shot?”

“At this point, I have no idea. What I do know is that the FBI is currently investigating Chad for possible involvement in an open criminal case where your sister is a potential witness.” Or in his mind, a suspect, but he wasn’t going to bring that up at this time. “Do you think it’s possible your brother-in-law was involved in the shooting?”

“At this point, I’d believe almost anything, but I don’t think so. Chad can be a jerk, but he doesn’t like to get his hands dirty. And besides, I can’t see him shooting Rachel, or taking Sophie, for that matter. He threatened to get a divorce once or twice, but as far as I know he’s never moved ahead with his threats. He wants to see Sophie, without the responsibility of raising her. Bottom line is I can’t see the point of him snatching her.”

“So what do you know?”

“I know that someone broke into this house looking for something.” Her gaze dropped as she fiddled with a loose thread on the edge of her purple T-shirt. Tense. Nervous. “I know that my sister is lying in ICU and my niece is gone. I know I probably shouldn’t be here, but I thought I might find some clue of what Rachel—and Chad—are mixed up in.”

He studied her expression. There was something she wasn’t telling him. “Do you know what they’re mixed up in?”

“No, but someone was clearly looking for something and I want to know what.”

Something unexpected triggered inside him as her expression softened. She might appear strong on the surface, but she was also clearly vulnerable. A part of him wanted to sweep her out of here and protect her from whatever she’d innocently walked into. Which was crazy. One, he had no idea if she really was innocent. And two, his job was to take down criminals, not simply to rescue pretty damsels in distress.

Marcus shoved aside the unexpected attraction. He’d watched his own family struggle to balance the stress of a career in law enforcement with relationships and too many of them hadn’t survived. Those who did, carried their own scars that he wanted nothing to do with. Nicole had managed to substantiate that conclusion when she forced him to choose between her and his career.

He shook his head at the unwanted memory. He needed to stay on track. “Has your sister traveled recently?”

Kate closed the lid of the trunk and sat down on it. “She went to Paris three months ago. I’ve been looking through her photos and journals to see if something happened there that might give me a clue as to what Chad might be involved in—or any suspicions she might have had—but so far, I can’t find anything out of the ordinary, except for one thing...”

“What is it?”

“It’s probably nothing, but I can’t find her passport, which is strange. Rachel’s very compulsive and orderly. She’s going to have a fit trying to put this house back together.”

“Where does she normally keep the passport?”

“At one time she kept it in this trunk, where she keeps a lot of her important papers like birth certificates and financial papers. She probably just moved it.”

“Do you think she’s involved with something illegal?” he asked.

“Rachel? Never.”

But he’d seen Rachel’s financials and knew her credit cards were maxed out and she was behind on her house payments. Money could be a powerful motivator. Which was why he couldn’t dismiss the possibility of her being involved in what happened today. Or that Kate Elliot knew more than she was letting on.

* * *

Kate stood up and started past the red stain on the carpet. Nausea swept through her. The room smelled like death and she needed some fresh air. “I need to return to the hospital. If I don’t take my mother home, she’ll stay there all night.”

“Wait...before you go, I need to ask you a few questions. It won’t take long. I promise.”

She hesitated, then reluctantly sat back down on the edge of the trunk. She was tired. Tired of the questions that she didn’t have answers for. Tired of waiting on an update from the hospital. Afraid of the panic that had yet to lessen. And this man, Marcus O’Brian, was simply adding to that panic.

“You and your sister are close?” he began.

“For the most part, yes.”

“What about Chad? How was their relationship?”

“That was a subject we didn’t talk about often. I didn’t think he was good enough for her and she resented that. So we avoided the subject.”

“Why didn’t you think he was good enough for her?”

Kate hesitated, wondering how her sister’s marital relationship was going to help find her shooter. She might not have thought he was the best choice for her sister to marry, but Rachel loved him and he was the father of their child.

“Please understand,” Marcus continued. “I realize I’m probing into something very personal, but the more I know about Chad and your sister, the easier it will be for me to find out the truth as to who was behind this. And for now, I can’t go to her with my questions.”

Kate let out a sharp sigh. “It bothered me that he put his job above his family. He traveled a lot, which meant he was gone more than he was home, something I know she resented. Especially because of Sophie.”

“Where did his job take him?”

“They have an apartment in Paris. He worked in both the US and Europe as a buyer. Occasionally he traveled to Africa.”

“And his traveling took a toll on their marriage?”

“It was more than just the traveling, but yes. Six months ago, he moved back to Paris. I think divorce was on the table, but there wasn’t anything official.”

“Did they still communicate?”

“Some. My sister went to Paris three months ago to try to see if they could give their marriage one last chance.”

“And when she returned, what did she tell you about the trip?”

“Not much, but it was clear that it didn’t go the way she’d hoped. I think she still loved him—that she still does—but it became clear to her that he had no intentions of settling down and giving her what she wanted.” Her gaze dropped to the stained spot on the carpet.

“What is it?”

Kate grabbed one of the throw pillows off the bed and hugged it against her chest, wishing he wasn’t able to read her so well. “While we were waiting for the ambulance, she told me Chad was scared about something.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know. All Rachel said was that they would do anything to get what they wanted.” She looked up at him, the fear she’d been feeling all day gripping her tighter. “Do you know what Chad’s involved in?”

“Let me ask the questions for now. Later, I’ll answer those that aren’t classified.”

“Classified.” Kate shook her head, irritation weaving itself through the fear. “You sound like James Bond.”

“No. Real life doesn’t play out like the movies.”

No, it didn’t. And today had become an extreme example. One couldn’t simply go home once the credits rolled.

“Do you think Rachel knew what he was involved in?” he asked.

She tried not to show her resentment of the question. “No.”

Marcus took a step forward. “Did she ever mention being suspicious about his behavior?”

Kate shook her head. “You have to understand that I want to help, but there is nothing I can tell you that is going to help us find Sophie and my sister’s shooter. We need to talk to Chad. He’s got to know—”

“We?” Marcus shook his head. “What you need to do is let the police—and myself—handle this. We are looking for him right now, in fact, and when we find him, we’ll interview him. But you’re not a part of we.”

“But I know Chad.”

“And I know what happens when civilians try to get involved in police business. Trust me, it doesn’t work.”

“So you haven’t been able to locate Chad yet?”

He hesitated. “No.”

“Then what about Sophie?” she rushed on. “You have to know something. Have some lead as to where she might be. Sophie, she’s...she’s four years old, full of energy and has the biggest imagination I’ve ever seen. She’s silly and loves to tell jokes—”

“Kate—”

“She loves macaroni from the box and strawberry licorice,” Kate continued, as if she were pleading her case in court. She might sound desperate, but needed him to realize this wasn’t just some missing person, or some domestic dispute in another case he was working on. “Sophie loves Dora the Explorer, going to Sunday school. She can’t sleep without her one-eyed bunny, Lily.”

Marcus’s eyes widened. “I don’t have an update about your niece, except...”

“What do you know?” she prodded.

“You told me your sister’s passport was missing.”

“Sophie’s has to be missing, as well.”

“We checked airline manifest lists since her father lives in France.” Hands clenched at her sides, she waited for him to continue. “Both passports were used to fly to Paris. A woman and a little girl, presumably your niece.”

A ball of emotion tangled inside Kate as she fought not to cry. “So Sophie’s in Paris?”

“That’s what we believe.”

Chad was AWOL... Sophie was missing...

Kate pressed her lips together, because at the moment, there only seemed to be one solution. No matter what Marcus O’Brian, with his perfect profile and piercing blue eyes, had said, she’d already made up her mind. There was only one person in her mind who had the answers. She needed to talk to Chad. Even if that meant flying to Paris and finding Chad herself.