by Sofia Grey
Daisy digested his words. Did he mean what she thought?
Kate opened her mouth to speak, but Aiden held up a hand.
“Let me finish,” he said. “That’s the good news, and yes, it’s the best we could hope for. But there’s still a problem. We have to assume they’ve been kidnapped, and we don’t know where they are or why they were taken.”
Daisy swallowed. The bright, happy scenario that had started to unfold was suddenly crushed.
“Why kidnapped?” Kate asked. “Has there been a ransom demand?”
Aiden shook his head. “No, and this is the difficult part to explain.” Difficult? Like everything else was easy?
“Last week, Tanner and Jack recognised someone known to be a person of interest. He was looking for Juli Pascal, and that was why Juli came to stay here, under our protection. We think he is behind their disappearance. We don’t know why he wanted Juli or what he could want with the others. But at least there’s a chance they are still alive.”
Alex spoke next. “So what happens now? Why aren’t you out there, looking for them?”
“We are.” Aiden spoke firmly. “I want to divert Tanner and Darcy, to help with the search. Though the flight landed at Otaki, they could be almost anywhere. We’re working closely with the local intelligence services, chasing up rumours and examining maps. Believe me, we’re doing everything we can.”
“Is there anything we can do to help?” Alex asked.
“I’m afraid not. Although it would be a good idea to take Callum with you to Christchurch tomorrow, to keep him safe.”
“I’ll stay backstage with him, while you do the rehearsals,” said Daisy. “We won’t get in the way.”
Kate spoke again, her voice low. “I don’t know what to say. I feel we should be celebrating, but we still don’t actually know anything, do we?”
Aiden sighed. “It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack. We badly need a stroke of good luck.”
*
“You have Juli’s papers,” said Jordan. “Why do you need her as well? Why are we here at all?”
For the first time, a look of frustration showed on Yanni’s face. “My design isn’t complete. Tests have thrown up interesting data, but not the desired results.”
“This was a paper I wrote years ago,” said Juli. “I haven’t followed it up. It was just for my thesis. I’m not an expert in this field.”
“Maybe not an expert, but you have a specialised interest in his work. Your keynote speech for example. You referred to Tesla as a modern-day Prometheus.”
Juli’s mouth fell open. “You weren’t in the audience. I would have seen you.”
“I didn’t need to be. I hacked the text of your speech from the hotel network. Anyway. You’ve been doing some interesting work recently. Related work. Byzantium, for example.”
It was a lucky guess. Jean-Luc had mentioned the project name while he was arguing with Yanni. Before Jack shot him.
Pain dug into her temples, but she forced herself to speak. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Yanni busied himself pulling up data on a nearby laptop. He swivelled the screen to show her.
It was her Byzantium design, but an earlier version, from over a year ago. It had been through several iterations since then.
“Where did you get this?” she asked.
Yanni sighed and lifted his hands, palms up in a conciliatory gesture. “It never ceases to amaze me how the big corporates, like TM-Tech, fail to secure their intellectual property.”
Jordan frowned but stayed quiet. He was probably equally keen to know where Yanni found the design.
“TM-Tech had a bit of a leak, didn’t it?” Yanni smiled “Just over a year ago. It’s amusing you don’t realise how much of your material is available on the open market.”
“We had a small issue.” Jordan’s voice stayed calm. “Most of the data leaked was out of date. We didn’t suffer any major losses.”
That wasn’t strictly true. TM-Tech was attacked by a corporate spy, who stole their most confidential information. It was never reported in the media. For Yanni to know about it was worrying, and suggested he’d been a recipient of some of the data. Her design, for instance.
Shit. What else did he have access to? They were involved in multiple highly confidential pieces of work. Secrecy was paramount when their customers included the Ministry of Defence and the U.S. Government.
“What I want to do,” said Yanni, serious now, “is use Byzantium as a power-enhancer, to make this design more effective.”
“And then what?” Juli scoffed. “Use it as a weapon? Hold the world to ransom?”
He chuckled. “Hell, no. You’ve been watching too much James Bond. I get the oscillator working and sell it.” He glanced at Jordan with an amused look on his face. “It might surprise you to know that the U.S. Government is one of my biggest customers.”
Jordan’s sceptical expression spoke volumes.
“Really,” Yanni protested. “I’m a businessman, like you. There’s no difference.”
Nick spoke up. “In our line of business, we don’t kidnap our suppliers, and then execute them. I’d say we’re a lot different.”
“Semantics.”
“Jean-Luc is dead. How can that be classed as semantics?” Thinking about the horrific events of last night pushed Juli close to tears again.
“You didn’t know.” His voice sounded almost sympathetic. “Your boyfriend was a mercenary.”
Again, her first thought was of Jack. After what he did, she had no doubts about his loyalties. But no. He meant Jean-Luc. Jack referred to him as her boyfriend. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Yanni rolled his chair closer. His voice was gentle when he spoke. “Did you not wonder why he tried to persuade me that you were Jean? You were entirely disposable in his eyes.”
That was high-calibre bullshit. Jean-Luc died trying to protect her.
With a final, kindly smile, Yanni moved away again and addressed the group. “Let’s keep this simple. My prototype design hasn’t been working too well, and I need your help to fix it. And then you can go home. What could be easier?”
“I wouldn’t trust you as far as I could throw you,” said Jordan, “but I’ll play along. Did anything actually happen when you tried it out?”
“Yes.” Yanni rummaged in a pile of papers and retrieved a newspaper. “Last July, I managed to set off a series of small quakes in the Southland region. You may have read about them. Here, take a look.” He handed Juli the newspaper. “The scientists couldn’t understand them. They didn’t fit the normal pattern for New Zealand.”
She forced herself to read the story.
Since the magnitude 7.6 earthquake that struck Fiordland on Wednesday night, scientists have been puzzled by the apparent lack of damage from such a large and shallow event.
The lack of high-frequency waves from the earthquake is directly related to the low-level of building damage and landslides. By comparison, the magnitude 7.8 Kaikoura quake the year before is thought to have triggered over 100,000 landslides.
“Are you saying you caused this?” She couldn’t hide her disbelief. She handed the paper to Jordan.
“Yes. And that’s why I need your help to refine the design. 7.6 magnitude is far from big enough.”
*
Jack climbed out of the truck and leaned against the side, watching the police officer approach. He was alone, a young guy with an eager, boyish face.
“Afternoon.” He greeted Jack in a friendly fashion, and Jack smiled back.
“Something I can help you with, officer?”
“Yes, sir.” He produced a photograph and passed it across.
Jack examined the picture. A woman in her mid-thirties, with sharply defined cheekbones, clear blue eyes, and straight blonde hair. She was pretty but cold. “Who is she?”
“She’s wanted in connection with some enquiries at the moment. We think she may be staying in this area. Have you s
een her, sir?”
Jack shook his head. “Sorry. Can’t say I have. If I do, I’ll let you know.” He paused a moment. “Is she dangerous?”
The police officer looked surprised. “I couldn’t say.” He glanced at Scarab, now smoking furiously on the other side of the cab. “Is it worth asking your friend?”
“Sure.” Jack walked around to him. In an undertone, he muttered, “Let me do the talking. You’re my cousin, okay?” Scarab nodded, eyes wide with fear.
That done, Jack strolled back to the police officer. “Sorry. He hasn’t seen her.” He handed over the photo. “We’ll look out for her.”
“Sweet as.” The policeman grinned. “You have a good day now.” With a cheery wave he walked back to his car and drove away.
Scarab almost leapt to Jack’s side. “What did he want?”
Jack pulled a face. “Probably best if I drive, in case we get stopped. They’re circulating a picture of Yanni. We need to warn him.”
While Scarab phoned Yanni, fingers trembling, Jack climbed into the cab and listened to the frantic conversation. Good. Rattling Yanni’s cage might force him to make a mistake, as well as getting Scarab on Jack’s side.
*
Yanni had some crazy idea that making further modifications to Juli’s Byzantium design would make his oscillator even more effective.
He talked through his ideas. On the surface they sounded plausible, but Juli couldn’t get her head around the idea of the oscillator working at all. The earthquakes last July had to be a coincidence. Didn’t they?
It had turned into a bizarre day. After the terror and bloodshed last night, Juli was running on empty. Her head ached, and her neck hurt.
“What do you want me to do?” It came out almost as a wail. “I can’t think straight.”
“Hey.” Yanni’s voice was calm. “You’re tired—I can see that—and still upset I guess. Why don’t you all take a break and have some sleep? We can pick this up again in the morning.”
Yanni looked at Jordan and Nick. “The sooner you can help get Julien’s design working, the sooner you can all go home.” He sounded sincere.
Juli desperately wanted to believe him. “We need to work together, the three of us,” she said.
This time he shrugged. “Why not? It makes sense. Would you like to go to your rooms for a rest?”
“I’d like a shower.” She wasn’t sure if she spoke aloud, but she must have.
Yanni laughed. The corners of his eyes crinkled with good humour. “My apologies. I’d imagined we’d resolve this business far more quickly.” His dark gaze roamed across her face. “You can use my personal bathroom. It’s the most suitable for a lady. The cleanest.” He glanced at the others. “I’m assuming you’d like to use the facilities too?”
Juli’s longing for a shower—to feel clean again—outweighed her anxiety about using his personal bathroom. As long as he wasn’t in there with her, she didn’t care.
Jordan and Nick were escorted away, and Yanni led her through the main building to the first floor.
Juli kept her eyes open for anything that could be useful to help them escape—a phone, weapons, or car keys. Every kidnap scenario she’d ever seen on film or read about talked of the importance of becoming friendly with the captor. Once they liked you, they were more likely to let down their guard, and you stood a higher chance of not getting hurt.
She fully intended to make Yanni her new best friend.
He led her into a large bathroom, complete with a semi-sunken bath and walk-in shower. It was well appointed, with huge, fluffy, white towels neatly piled, and an array of soaps and oils on the shelves.
She stared longingly at the bathtub. How would it feel to slip into foaming hot water and forget about everything for half an hour?
“Sit down,” said Yanni. “I’ll get everything you need.” He glanced at her speculatively. “You’ll need clean clothes. I can lend you jeans and a shirt that you can adapt to fit.”
“Thank you. And is there any chance of some aspirin? Or something stronger? I have a migraine brewing.”
“Why didn’t you say so? I’ve got paracetamol with codeine. Will that do?”
“Yes, please. That would be good.”
“Coming right up.”
He started the bath running and added a generous slug of bath essence. A woody, herbal fragrance filled Juli’s senses. It smelled amazing.
“I’ll ask Tish, my housekeeper, to keep watch on you.” He paused. “Is that okay?”
Did he mean the bath or the watchdog? Getting clean would make a huge difference to her overall state of mind. She nodded.
Yanni dug a phone from his pocket and sent a text, presumably to Tish. A minute later, a small Asian woman appeared in the doorway, carrying a glass of water and a blister pack of over-the-counter painkillers. Thank God.
Hang on. Yanni was the enemy. He’d kidnapped them and allowed Jean-Luc to be executed. And now, because he treated her kindly and ran her a bath, she no longer hated him so much? That was so fucked up.
As soon as Yanni left, with only Tish in the room, Juli undressed and climbed into the water. It felt divine. She didn’t want to get out again, but she had to.
Tish handed her a new, wrapped toothbrush, and Juli took her time getting dry and fresh. She blotted her hair and left it to dry loose, brushed her teeth, and then examined the clothes Yanni left for her.
There were faded jeans, several sizes too big but with a sturdy leather belt, a T-shirt and cotton shirt, soft woollen socks, and a pair of clean boxers. She dressed while Tish looked the other way, and then waited to see what happened next.
Tish led her into a spacious lounge and gestured toward a comfortable, squashy sofa, then disappeared. No sign of the dreaded handcuffs.
Juli had to stick to the plan. Make Yanni her best friend. Get him to trust her.
She sat, yawned, and ran her fingers through her damp hair. She fully expected to be escorted to her cell any minute.
She didn’t expect Yanni to reappear with a pot of what smelled like chamomile tea and two china cups.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Charlie reappeared briefly when dinner was served. He completely ignored Daisy when he ambled into the kitchen and collected a plate of food, before heading to his room. He was drunk. Already.
Her anger at his rudeness continued to simmer. She had to speak to him. He was talking crap, but why? Things were going well between them. Why would he break it off now?
Daisy had no idea, but she intended to find out.
She followed him into his room and closed the door quietly behind her.
He turned and glared at her. “Get the fuck out of my room.”
She stood her ground. “I want to talk to you, and I can’t do that when you lock yourself away.”
He balanced the plate on his bedside cabinet, sat on the bed, and leaned down to untie the laces on his boots. His movements were uncoordinated and jerky. How much had he drunk? And so early in the evening? When he picked up an open bottle of tequila and slugged some back, she saw the bottle was half-empty.
“Newsflash, babe—Daisy. I don’t want to talk to you.” He gestured with the bottle to emphasise his point.
Her heart sank. He had to rehearse tomorrow. At this rate, he’d be lucky to even stand up straight in the morning.
She marched to him and plucked the bottle from his hand. “That’s enough.”
He lunged at it, but she side-stepped him easily. “The fuck it is.” His eyes turned flinty as he stared at her. “You could be turning into my mother.”
What was he rambling about now? Daisy replaced the screw top on the bottle and moved it out of reach. “Charlie, you can talk to me. Whatever it is that’s going on.” She kept her voice soft and soothing. She wanted him to trust her.
A long moment later, he stood, swaying before her. “Daisy, believe me, I’m bad news. You don’t want to stay here with me.”
She didn’t move.
“I’m
warning you.” His voice became harsher, more gravelly. He sounded as though he’d smoked an entire pack of unfiltered cigarettes. “I can’t be what you want, and I’ll only end up hurting you. Get the fuck out of here.”
It was time for a leap of faith. Charlie was hurting. She might be able to help. She took a deep breath and moved to him, placed her hands against his chest, and kissed him on the lips.
His resistance was short lived. “Fuck it,” he murmured.
She’d never known anyone to kiss as intensely as Charlie. He put his heart and soul into seducing her with his mouth.
She forgave him the alcohol breath and dope fumes. She even forgave him his cruel comments from earlier. He couldn’t have meant them. Not with the way he was kissing her now, as though his life depended on it.
An hour later, Daisy lay snuggled in his arms. Should she go to her room, or stay with him? There was noise, like people arriving, and she listened to the rumble of voices in the hallway. Perhaps there was more news.
Charlie was fast asleep. He wouldn’t notice if she snuck out.
She dressed rapidly, splashed cold water on her face and smoothed her hair with wet fingers, then went to see who’d arrived.
A handsome fair-haired American guy was here with a stunningly beautiful blonde. She had the kind of looks Daisy could only ever dream about. They were both tired and travel-weary, and the woman’s eyes were the kind of red that suggested she’d been crying recently.
Alex introduced them as Marcus and Louisa. They’d flown in from Houston as soon as they heard the news.
Aiden updated them on the details they knew, which weren’t many. He was preparing to go into Wellington with Tanner and Darcy, to continue following up leads on the missing plane.
Tanner was talking to Alex, when he took a call on his mobile. His voice rose in astonishment. “What? Where?”