Elusive Promise GO PL 2

by Barbara Freethy

"Again?" he asked. "And I thought I was the cocky one."

  "Well, you already had your turn. Now, it's mine."

  "I do like the way you think. And the way you kiss," he added, as her mouth touched his. "And yeah, that, too," he said, as she moved down his body.

  * * *

  While Jared was showering, Parisa got dressed and went downstairs to make coffee. It was seven fifteen, so they had a few hours to drive into Manhattan and get to the consulate before the scheduled ransom exchange.

  She felt a twinge of regret as her brain focused back on the job at hand. It had been more than a little nice to let it all go for the night. Especially since the night had turned out so fantastically amazing.

  She smiled to herself at her use of double adjectives. She didn't really have enough words, or maybe the right words, to describe her night with Jared. And it wasn't even all about him; it was about herself, too. She'd felt free for the first time in forever. Unfortunately, she suspected the emotions Jared had helped her unleash were not going to go back into the box she'd put them in a long time ago.

  But that was a problem for another day.

  Opening the refrigerator, she pulled out the sandwiches they'd gotten from the neighbors the day before. Unwrapping the first one, she bit into turkey and Swiss with sliced tomato and pesto sauce. It was delicious, and she'd definitely worked up an appetite. She was just swallowing the last bite when Jared entered the room.

  His dark hair was damp from the shower, and his cheeks were cleanly shaven. He smelled good. He must have found some aftershave somewhere.

  He walked straight to her and gave her a long, deep, minty kiss. "It's been too long since I kissed you," he said.

  "It's been about an hour. You taste like toothpaste."

  "And you taste like pesto."

  "I saved you a sandwich. They're delicious."

  He grinned. "Not as delicious as you."

  She flushed at the look in his eyes. "You're going to need to rein it in, Jared."

  "Is that what you want me to do?"

  "Not really. It's kind of nice to have a man so boldly interested in me."

  "That's a change for you?" he asked in surprise.

  "Well, they might have been interested—but not in the real me, which I didn't show them, so I guess I can't complain."

  "I get it," he said, taking a sandwich out of the fridge.

  "Do you want some coffee?"

  "I'd love a cup."

  She filled a mug and brought it over to the table, as they sat down. "Have you had a lot of relationships out in the field?" she asked curiously.

  "I wouldn’t call them relationships. What about you?"

  "Same," she admitted. "I've done far more flirting than anything else, you know? It's a lot of smoke and mirrors."

  "I agree. If we need a change in career, maybe we should just become magicians."

  "You could be my pretty boy," she said with a laugh. "The one I put in the box and cut into pieces."

  "I was thinking of you as my pretty assistant."

  "See, that's the problem with us. We both like to be on top."

  "We actually both had fun on the bottom and on the top and on the side…"

  "Like I said, we need to start reining all this in," she said, feeling more heat run through her. "The night is over."

  "Is that all we get—a night?"

  "I don't know, Jared," she said, telling him the complete and utter truth. "Do you?"

  He met her gaze. "No."

  "Until we do, let's table this kind of talk."

  He nodded as he unwrapped his sandwich. "All right. You told Damon you wanted to be at the consulate this morning. I assume that's where we're headed when we get into the city."

  "Yes. I may not be able to be at the drop, but I can at least talk to Anika and Kenisha. Maybe I can get their take on Ben. Anika might know more about Ben's relationship with Sara than his parents do."

  "Good point," he said, as he devoured his sandwich. "There's something else I've been wondering about. I've gone over in my head what April told me right before the explosion a million times. She said the head of the group was in Bezikstan or the US, someone who had a lot of connections, someone no one would ever expect to be a supporter of their cause, which allowed him to move freely without suspicion."

  "Okay. But that could be any number of people."

  "It could be Raj Kumar."

  "Jasmine's father?" she asked in astonishment. "No way."

  "Why not?"

  "Because…just no way."

  "It could be his director of security, Mr. Bhatt, the man who conveniently didn't vet two men who joined the waitstaff at the last minute, the one who hired a guard on the back stairs, who disappeared."

  "You make some good points."

  "Or…" he continued.

  Her gut twisted at the look in his eyes. "Or who?"

  "Neil Langdon."

  "Why would you suspect Neil?"

  "Because his reactions are off. Why wouldn't he do everything he can to help find the daughter of one of his best friends?"

  "To protect his son."

  "But like you told him, the more Ben cooperates, the better it will be for him."

  "He's not thinking clearly. He's worried."

  "He's also a teacher, a professor now, a man who has access to a lot of young, passionate, ideologic people."

  "Okay, you're going in a lot of different directions."

  "I agree. Raj and Neil are long shots, but I like to consider all possibilities. I know those two people are not who you would want to be suspects."

  "No. But let's get to the city," she said. "The sooner we start talking to people, the sooner we'll get some real answers."

  As they stood up, Jared caught her by the arm. "Before we go." He gave her a long, tender, loving kiss, made even more personal by all the intimacy they'd shared. "It's still you and me, Parisa. Partners—even if we disagree."

  She gazed into his eyes and felt a rush of affection. Actually, it felt like love, but she was afraid to call it that, even in her own head.

  Instead, she said, "Partners—definitely. And I'm not angry. I just want to get to the truth, wherever it leads."

  "I do, too."

  The buzzing of a phone startled her. "Is that yours?"

  "Yes, sorry. I turned it on to text Gary again—my contact at the agency." Jared pulled out his phone and read a text, his jaw turning to stone.

  "It doesn't look like good news. What's happened? It's not Jasmine, is it?" she asked, suddenly terrified by the look in Jared's eyes.

  "No, it's not Jasmine. It's me. The agency found out I was present at a shooting near the convention center yesterday."

  "How would they know that?" As soon as she asked the question, she realized she knew the answer. "The FBI mole. They know who you are. They want you off the case."

  "So does the agency. They want me at Langley today. They've arranged for me to catch the company plane. I need to be at the airport at eleven."

  "Then that's where you'll be."

  He shook his head. "No."

  "Jared, you have to go. This is your job, your life."

  "Let's go to the consulate first. I'll make a decision after that."

  She couldn't imagine what other decision he could make. "Maybe the agency just wants your information, so they can put together a bigger investigation."

  He gave her a short smile. "If that was the situation, they wouldn't call me to Langley. They want me out of New York. They want me off the case. That's not going to happen."

  "You're really going to risk everything, aren't you?"

  "Yes," he said, no trace of doubt in his voice. "Help me make it count?"

  "I will," she said, really hoping she could keep that promise.

  Twenty-One

  It was almost nine when they got back to the city and parked near the consulate. The sun had disappeared behind dark clouds, and it was now a cold, gloomy day, with a storm approaching. Jared hoped that was
n't a precursor of what was to come.

  He'd gotten a couple more texts from Gary, pleading with him not to throw away his entire career for this quest, that April wouldn't want that. And Gary was right—April wouldn't want him to do that. But he'd already disobeyed orders to stay out of the case, and when he got to Langley, there was a good chance he'd find out his job was already over or that he would be sent to a desk, which was not something he was interested in.

  He was going to play things out for a while longer. He still had a couple of hours before he had to decide.

  "Are you okay?" Parisa asked, giving him a thoughtful glance, as they neared the consulate. "If you want to go to the airport—"

  "I'm good. Let's see what's happening here."

  They went up the steps to the consulate, where they were detained by two guards. They gave their names, then waited as one of the guards went into the building. A moment later, Kabir Bhatt came to the door, nodding at Parisa.

  "Miss Maxwell. What can I do for you?"

  "Mr. Bhatt. This is my boyfriend, Jared MacIntyre. We'd like to see Anika and Kenisha."

  "They're not taking visitors."

  "Well, I'm not just any visitor, and I want to wait with them," she said. "I know what's happening this morning. Please tell them I'm here. I'm not leaving until you do."

  He frowned at her words. "One moment." He left them on the step as he stepped into the building.

  "He better let us in," she murmured, tapping her foot impatiently as she looked around.

  He followed her gaze, feeling a bit exposed. There was still danger in the city for Parisa, and they couldn't forget that.

  The front door opened again, and Mr. Bhatt waved them inside. "Mrs. Kumar and her daughter ask that you join them in the salon," he said, motioning toward a room off the main living room.

  Jared wasn't thrilled with being relegated to the sitting room when he could see FBI agents, Westley Larimer, and Raj Kumar in the main living room, but maybe he'd have a chance to slip inside once Mr. Bhatt moved on to his other duties.

  Anika and her mother were seated together on a gray sofa, coffee mugs in front of them, as well as a plate of untouched pastries and fruit. As Anika stood up to greet them, he couldn't help noting her immaculate appearance, the dark-green dress that clung to her frame, the high-heeled black boots, the made-up face. Kenisha, on the other hand, looked like she hadn't slept since her daughter had been taken. Her face was haggard, and her black pants and sweater were wrinkled as if she'd been wearing the same clothes for days.

  "Parisa, thank you for coming," Anika said, giving Parisa a half-hearted kiss on each cheek. Then she turned to him. "We haven't met."

  "Jared MacIntyre," he said, extending his hand.

  "Jared is my boyfriend," Parisa put in.

  "I hope you don't mind my presence," he added. "But since Parisa was attacked yesterday, I don't want to let her out of my sight."

  "You were attacked?" Anika asked in surprise.

  "Yes. Since the kidnapping, there have been a couple of attempts on my life. Someone is obviously concerned that I saw something."

  "Which clearly you didn't," Anika said. "Or you would have told someone by now, right?"

  "Of course," Parisa replied.

  "I thought you said you were single," Anika continued, giving both of them a hard, questioning look.

  "I wasn't sure if I wanted to get serious with Jared, but after what happened Friday night, I started wondering why I was pushing him away when life can change so quickly," Parisa explained, giving him a loving look.

  She really was a good liar. But he also knew how truthful she could be.

  He moved past Anika to avoid more questions and also to speak to her mother. "Mrs. Kumar? I'm very sorry about all this. I am praying that Jasmine comes home safe."

  "As am I," Kenisha said, dabbing at her eyes with a well-used tissue. "Please sit down. Do either of you want something to eat or drink?"

  "We're fine," Parisa said, as they settled on the couch across from the two women. "Is there anything we can do for you?"

  "There's nothing to do but wait," Kenisha replied. "You heard about the ransom demand?"

  "Yes, that's why I came by. I wanted to offer my support. I also heard about Ben."

  "Ben," Anika said scornfully. "I can't believe he betrayed Jasmine. He let the kidnappers into the house. He knew something was going to happen to her. I hope he rots in jail for the rest of his life."

  "Anika, please," Kenisha said. "We don't know the whole story."

  "We know enough. And I don't know how you can defend any of the Langdons." Anika turned back to them, fury in her gaze. "Neil and Elizabeth hired an attorney and won't let Ben talk to the FBI."

  "I heard that," Parisa muttered. "I was hoping they'd changed their minds. I actually spoke to Neil last night. I thought maybe I'd gotten through to him."

  "I haven't heard that anything has changed," Anika said, crossing her arms. "But then, Mother and I are being kept out of the loop. Apparently, the women have no place in any of this."

  "Anika, don't do this. Your father and Westley are focused on getting Jasmine back. They're not trying to punish you," Kenisha said. "And I just can't take any more anger or unhappiness today."

  "I'm sorry," Anika said quickly. "I'm just terrified, Mother."

  "I know," Kenisha said, putting her arm around Anika.

  While the two women were consoling each other, he rose. "Do you mind if I use the restroom?"

  "It's down the hall on the right," Anika told him.

  "I'll be right back," he said, hearing Parisa ask a question about Westley as he left the room.

  They hadn't discussed what they'd do when they got inside the consulate beyond finding a way to get whatever information they could. Now that he'd made his move, Parisa would keep Anika and Kenisha distracted.

  As he made his way down the hall, his memory of the layout of the consulate came in handy. There were two doors leading into the living room: one from this hallway, and one from the front foyer.

  He paused by the bathroom, glancing around. There was no one in the hall, no one paying attention to what he was doing, so he moved closer to the living room door, which was partially ajar.

  From his limited view, he could see Westley and his father Phillip, Agent Wolfe, Mr. Bhatt, the NYPD detective who'd been at the hospital with Parisa the first night, and the older man she'd spoken to at the party, Vincent Rowland. Maybe it was a good thing they'd been sent to the smaller sitting room. Vincent didn't need to know Parisa was here.

  "Just do exactly as we've practiced," Damon told Westley. "No deviations. Do you understand?"

  "Yes," Westley said tersely. "I've got it. We've gone over it a hundred times. I don't hand over anything until I see Jasmine. But I'm afraid they're going to realize there are cops all over the place and not show themselves."

  "We already have people in place," Damon said. "They've been there for over two hours. When the kidnappers get there, they won't see anyone new arriving on the scene."

  "I hope that's true."

  "This will work," Vincent reassured Westley. "The bureau knows how to run this."

  "That better be true. I can't even think about what Jasmine has been going through the past few days."

  "Don't think about it," Damon advised. "Stay focused on what you need to do."

  Hearing footsteps, Jared quickly backed away from the door and dashed across the hall into the bathroom. He heard heels clicking down the marble floor and peeked out to see Anika walking toward the kitchen. This might be the perfect time to get a moment alone with her, ask her what she was doing with Westley the day before.

  When he entered the kitchen, he saw a male chef at the stove and a woman chopping vegetables. Where had Anika gone? Had she simply headed toward the back stairs?

  Then he felt the rustle of a breeze and realized the door to the basement was open.

  His heart jumped against his chest. He knew better than anyone what was
in that basement—a way out of the consulate. Why would Anika be leaving her family now?

  "Can I help you?" the woman who'd been handling the vegetables asked.

  "I was just looking for some water," he said, improvising a cough.

  She reached into the fridge and pulled out a bottled water.

  "Thanks," he said, as she handed it to him. He made his way quickly back to the salon.

  Parisa gave him a speculative look. Kenisha was on the phone. He motioned for Parisa to get up.

  She moved across the room, and he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "We need to go—now."

  A dozen questions filled her gaze, but she simply nodded. They walked down the hall and out the front door. Neither of the guards seemed interested in their departure, and the law enforcement personnel were still in the living room.

  Once they were out of sight, they jogged the rest of the way to the car.

  "Where are we going?" Parisa asked, as he fired the engine and pulled into the street.

  "To the end of the tunnel," he replied, turning quickly at the next corner. "I'm pretty sure Anika is using it to get out of the house unseen."

  "She said she was going upstairs to make some calls."

  "She didn't. She went down to the basement."

  Parisa grabbed at the door handle as he sped around the next corner, and then he slowed down as he saw Anika walking toward a small silver Prius by the park. She had a duffel bag over her shoulder now, and his pulse leapt once more.

  "Oh, my God," Parisa said, putting her hand on his leg. "That duffel bag…"

  "Filled with cash, I'm guessing."

  "Anika is making the drop. Westley is going to be a decoy."

  He flung her a quick look. "I think so, too. Maybe that's what she and Westley were setting up the other day. But I don't think the switch is sanctioned by law enforcement. I heard your pal Damon going over the rules with Westley, and there was no mention of Anika's involvement."

  "The kidnappers must have contacted Westley separately."

  "And he enlisted Anika's help."

  "Which is crazy, because she won't know what to do, how to handle a situation as volatile as this."

  "I don't know about that. Anika seems like a pretty cool customer to me."