“Kelly here,” he said.
“Ah, Mr. Kelly.” A heavily accented voice. Eastern European, unless he missed his guess. “I am seeking my fiancée, who has disappeared in America.”
“Think you could narrow it down a bit?” he asked.
“Her name is Annalisa Maria Von Schmidt De La Pena,” the voice continued. “She is most beautiful, with long dark hair and green eyes.”
Ryder’s breath caught in his throat. It was Lisa, without question. “How did you get my name?”
“You are a finder of missing persons, are you not?”
Not this one, he wanted to shout. “How long has she been missing?”
“A little over a week.” The man had a sibilant way of speaking that irritated Ryder.
“You say she’s your fiancée?” Then why did she choose me to take her virginity?
“Does it matter?” snapped the man. “I need to find her, and I will pay well. Have you heard from her?”
“Heard from her?” Ryder repeated. “Why would I have heard from her?”
“It is complicated,” the man said. “The girl is, er, on medication and has become disoriented. We believe someone provided your name. Either you have heard from her or you have not, Mr. Kelly. Which is it?”
Ryder had no intention of handing Lisa over to this man. Nevertheless, the fellow apparently knew her real identity, and that was valuable information for him and Lisa. “Yes, I’ve heard from her,” he said.
“When?”
“The last day or so.”
“Is she in Denver?”
A red flag went up. How did this guy know Lisa had been in Colorado? Had he been tracking her? Was it possible he had some connection to her accident in New York?
“I’m not sure,” Ryder said. “She’s supposed to contact me again on Monday.”
“Monday?” The man’s voice rose until it cracked. “We must find her at once!”
Ryder’s suspicions deepened at the fellow’s obvious alarm. “Is she in danger? From who or what?”
“Yes. Danger!”
“I should notify the authorities.”
“No!”
Ryder’s instincts shouted that Lisa was in some kind of peril—because of this man. “I’m afraid I have no way of locating her immediately.”
“What did she ask of you? Did you put her in touch with someone in Denver?”
“That’s confidential,” Ryder said. “It would help if you could tell me more about your fiancée. Is she ill? Is there family that should be notified when I locate her?”
Mr. Smith suffered a fit of coughing.
“Exactly where does Miss De La Pena live, anyway?” Ryder glanced at his watch. Eleven o’clock. If he didn’t leave soon, he’d be late for his appointment.
“I must consult with a colleague before we continue this conversation,” said the so-called Mr. Smith.
“Fine with me.” If she were his fiancée, why consult a colleague? Nothing about this man rang true.
“You will be hearing from me, Mr. Kelly.” It sounded like a threat.
Ryder hung up with a sense of foreboding. Instead of resolving the issue of Lisa’s identity, this Mr. Smith, or whatever his real name might be, had complicated it further. What on earth was going on?
Perhaps, presented with her real name, Lisa would finally remember who she was. Ryder itched to drive to the beach and confront her immediately, but that would have to wait. He had a pressing appointment. The corporate runaway’s trail would grow cold if Ryder didn’t get on it immediately.
Besides, what was the hurry? Even if Mr. Smith decided to fly to L.A., he couldn’t get here from Paris until early tomorrow. There would be time enough after Ryder picked up Lisa this evening for them to hash things through.
Suppressing his anxiety, he collected a sports coat and tie and emerged from his office. At the front desk, Zizi clicked away at her computer, updating the accounts. “Good luck with your date tonight,” he said.
She waved and resumed typing. The woman might turn out to be a decent assistant, after all, Ryder reflected.
As he got in his car, he heard the office phone ringing. Well, if it was important, Zizi would either call him or provide the caller with his cell phone number.
He couldn’t afford to stop and check. Corporation presidents didn’t like to be kept waiting.
*
The young man had such a pleasant voice, with a touch of a Continental accent, that Zizi wished he were calling for her. But he asked for Lisa, although he tacked some Spanish-sounding name after Schmidt.
“Oh, she’s at the store today,” she said. “The surf shop.”
Only after she’d conveyed the address and hung up did she wonder who the man was. Maybe she ought to advise Ryder.
Zizi was reaching for the phone when it rang again. “Hi, it’s Tom.” Her date for tonight, the script reader. “I’ve got tickets to a press preview of one of our new films, and I wondered if you’d like to see it instead of going dancing.”
A press preview? It sounded glamorous and full of possibilities. “Wow! Great! So, what’s the film about?”
By the time she hung up, Zizi’s brain buzzed with anticipation of the evening ahead. She forgot all about the young man with the Continental accent who was looking for Lisa.
*
Customers crowded the shop until late afternoon, when a surfing competition on a neighboring beach lured away most of the crowd. Resting her chin on one hand, Lisa sat behind the counter and gazed through the tinted windows at the sparkling ocean.
She’d resigned herself to spending the day away from Ryder, since he had to catch up at the office. But she hadn’t realized how empty the store would seem without the vibrant knowledge that he might soon appear.
Restlessly, she went to reorganize the racks of clothing. Customers frequently stuck the sizes and colors back in the wrong place, and it took a while to fix them.
When she was done, Lisa paused in front of the full-length mirror and studied the skin exposed by her beach dress. Her bruises had faded, and her hair covered the stitches on her scalp. She should get someone to take those out, she mused, and then she’d be as good as new.
A scraping noise from the back of the shop startled her. It might have been in the storage area, but more likely it came from the alley that ran behind. Lisa listened harder, but detected only the low rumble of the ocean. She must have heard children playing in the alley.
If Ryder couldn’t be here, she wished she had someone else to chat with. Buffy and Starr hadn’t been around all day. Abandoned by my friends, Lisa thought wryly. Just like Nicola.
Nicola. A face jumped into her consciousness: high cheekbones, wide-set eyes, chestnut hair threaded with silver. Lisa clasped her hands together to control the excited trembling. Memories, at last!
She discovered she could see other faces. Her mother and father. A friend named Maureen. It was as if they’d been lurking in the shadows of her mind all week and had simply stepped forward.
What if she forgot again? Thrilled but apprehensive, Lisa hurried to the counter and drew out a pad. She jotted the data as it popped into her head, in fragments. She recalled Maureen’s phone number, but not her own. The location of the château, but not the address of the apartment in Paris, although she’d lived there longer.
Without conscious thought, she wrote, “I came here to get pregnant so I wouldn’t be forced to marry Boris Grissofsky.”
What?!
Lisa stared at the words in dismay. Less because of the impending marriage, which seemed melodramatic to her now, but because this showed how terribly she’d betrayed Ryder. She must have planned to use him, like a stud. How could she have done that?
Although apparently she hadn’t known him when she set out on her adventure, it was wrong to use another human being that way. She might be pregnant right now, and it wouldn’t be an accident. Ryder had made it clear he didn’t want children. She had no right to do this to him.
Pai
n knotted inside Lisa’s chest. It was hard to imagine that she had ever been a selfish girl who set out on a lark and ended up possibly changing everyone’s lives—including hers and Ryder’s.
She would have to tell Ryder everything. If he rejected her, she wouldn’t blame him. She only hoped he might be willing to work through this situation with her. Still, it was a lot to ask.
A draft of air played across Lisa’s neck. Something was moving behind her. Something that wasn’t supposed to be there.
“What—?” Before she could turn around, a hand seized her shoulder and a cloth clamped over her mouth.
As chemical fumes shot into her brain, the store whirled madly and the light dimmed. Lisa glimpsed a man’s face, youngish and clean-cut. She didn’t remember him, not even a little.
Then the darkness sucked her into a void.
*
The missing executive didn’t stay missing for long. Although his cell was turned off and untraceable, he’d used a prepaid phone to call his girlfriend on her cell and reassure her that he was fine.
Another employee already had the girlfriend’s contact information. When Ryder reached her and dropped a few terms like industrial espionage and conspiracy to commit theft, she’d provided the man’s new number.
They’d tracked him to a hotel in Washington, D.C. Two security officers and a top executive from the corporation’s Baltimore office were en route to confront the man. As long as they could prevent trade secrets from falling into rival hands, they preferred to resolve the matter quietly rather than upset stockholders.
Not until Ryder was exiting the corporate building did he notice that it was nearly six o’clock. An hour late! The store must have closed by now.
When his cell phone sounded, relief surged through him. That must be Lisa, checking in. But since he didn’t recognize the number, he answered with his standard, “Kelly here.”
The voice that responded was masculine. “Mr. Kelly, this is Officer Valencia. I thought you should know that I found the door to the surf shop unlocked with no one inside.”
Ryder held his fears firmly under control. “Maybe Lisa’s grabbing a bite to eat down the block.”
“There are no obvious signs of anything taken or damaged,” the policeman continued. “However, when I looked in the back of the store, I found the rear door open. There are scratch marks on the lock.”
Someone had broken in? “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Thank you.”
As Ryder drove to the beach, one thought kept recurring. What if Mr. Smith had lied about being in Paris? He might have been in Los Angeles all along. Lisa could have gone with him of her own free will, but she wouldn’t have left the store open. And there had to be an explanation for the scratch marks on the lock.
At the store, he found the police officer waiting. “I’ll be glad to file a burglary report if anything’s missing, sir.”
Ryder stared around the shop. Not a surfboard out of place. When he opened the cash register, it bristled with cash, checks and credit receipts. “The only thing that’s missing is my girlfriend.”
The last time she vanished, she’d left a note. Ryder almost hoped that he would find one, just so long as he knew she was safe. If Lisa had left a note, it should be near the register.
With a frown, he noticed that a small box offering the store’s business cards had tipped over and spilled its contents across the counter. How had these been knocked over? As soon as he brushed away the cards, he saw a pad covered with scribbles.
It wasn’t addressed to him; it didn’t appear to be a message at all, just random notes. At the top were the names of two women, Nicola Dupin and Maureen Buchanan. Beside Maureen’s name was a phone number with an international dialing code.
Next appeared the names Schuyler and Valeria Von Schmidt De La Pena and an address in France. De La Pena, he thought. Relatives, maybe parents. So Lisa’s memory had returned.
Ryder’s throat clenched. That would provide a reason to walk out, to resume her old life. He pushed aside another card and saw scrawled at the bottom of the page: “I came here to get pregnant so I wouldn’t have to marry Boris Grissofsky.”
A dark heaviness settled into his stomach. So that was her game. Ryder couldn’t imagine why she had needed to get pregnant to avoid a marriage, but it explained Lisa’s seduction of him. If he could trust what Mr. Smith had told him, someone had given her Ryder’s name; it didn’t really matter how she’d come by it.
The bitter truth was that she’d flown to Colorado to use him as a human stud. After he’d fallen for her, she’d gone her merry way. Only amnesia and the chance discovery of his business card had sent her back.
Now she’d departed once more, possibly carrying a baby. His baby.
The prospect hit Ryder like a blow. His child. To grow up where? To be told what lies about him? He’d never wished to be trapped into fatherhood. Now that the possibility of a child had become real, however, he resented even more strongly being shut out of the picture.
“Mr. Kelly?” Office Valencia emerged from the storage room, where he’d been searching.
“Yes?”
“Do you recognize this?” He held out a sandal.
Ryder’s heart thudded as he took it. It was a woman’s shoe, about Lisa’s size. A few scuff marks on the sole indicated that it had been worn, but not much. “My girlfriend bought a pair of these two days ago,” he said.
“I found it on the floor in the back,” the officer said. “There’s no sign of the mate.”
Why would Lisa abandon one sandal? Why would she leave these incriminating scribbles—with enough information for him to track her—if she intended to disappear? It also made no sense for her to jimmy the lock and depart via the back door when she had a key to the front.
Ryder recalled Mr. Smith’s Eastern European accent. It would fit a man by the name of Boris Grissofsky. Lisa had been willing to seduce a stranger to get away from him; she must have had good reason to dislike or even fear the man.
“Would you like me to put out an all points bulletin?” asked the policeman. “At this stage, I think we have enough reason to suspect foul play.”
“Absolutely.” He provided as much information as he could, along with a photo he’d taken of Lisa showing off her new clothes.
After Officer Valencia departed, Ryder dialed the number for Maureen Buchanan. No answer. He couldn’t find a listing for the De La Penas at their address, which was in the Loire Valley. Whatever information they might be able to provide, he had no intention of standing around waiting for it. Besides, her parents were apparently forcing her into a marriage, so they must have some knowledge of this whole business.
He had to take action. He couldn’t leave Lisa at the mercy of her abductor. Lisa and our baby.
If she were in Los Angeles, the police had as good a chance of finding her as Ryder did. But from everything he’d learned, he suspected she was being taken out of the country.
It went against his nature to fling caution aside and head blindly to France, to an address in the Loire Valley that might not even be hers. Also, since Lisa’s memory had returned, he had no idea how she felt toward him, or what kind of person she really was. She’d tricked him, shamefully, about the baby. But how could he abandon the woman he loved when there was a chance she needed him desperately?
Ryder hovered on a precipice. It was the cliff that lurked in his nightmares, beyond which lay a free fall. Once he jumped, there was no telling where he would land.
It no longer mattered. He hadn’t given away his heart; it had left him, and he might as well throw the rest of himself after it.
On his phone, he booked the first flight to Paris.
Chapter Fourteen
Lisa awoke to stiffness, darkness and the hum of an airplane. As if retaining fragments of a dream, she recalled being jostled and carried and plunked down. How much time had passed? Where was she?
The last thing she recalled clearly was sitting at the counter in the surf s
hop. Hearing a noise, starting to turn, and her arm hitting a box of the store’s business cards. Then...nothing.
A prickling sensation in her hands led to the discovery that they were tied behind her back. She couldn’t see, and when she moved her head, she felt the tug of a blindfold. Beneath her lay a rough blanket. Through it she could feel the floor vibrating as the engines churned.
Her nose wrinkled at the scent of cigarette smoke. It was too harsh for American tobacco. The scent evoked a holiday in Greece with her mother. They’d eaten lunch at an outdoor café on the island of Mikonos, and the man at the next table had been smoking.
Her mother. Greece. The château. Her father. She remembered everything. Everything but the events of the past few hours. Someone must have kidnapped her and taken her aboard an airplane.
Boris. It had to be him. But why go to such lengths? He’d been eager to set a wedding date. Was there some more pressing reason than mere impatience?
Maureen had mentioned something about Win’s camera work for Boris that Lisa hadn’t paid attention to at the time. “The first check bounced.”
Tycoons didn’t write rubber checks. Not unless they’d run into serious trouble. Serious enough for her large dowry to become a major attraction.
Tears burned Lisa’s eyes. Whatever Boris planned for her, he’d made a terrible mess of her life. Ryder. Her need for him ached like a physical wound. He would assume she’d abandoned him again. To make matters worse, if her abductor had left the notepad there, he would discover her notes and learn that she’d sought him out to get pregnant. He would never forgive her.
No matter what it took, she had to return and apologize. But Ryder had already granted her a second chance. A third one was inconceivable.
Lisa’s muscles throbbed from her uncomfortable position, and the cigarette smoke stung her nose. Cautiously she worked her wrists behind her back, but every movement made the ties bite more deeply into her skin.
Putting aside the effort, she transferred her attention to the blindfold. By rubbing her cheek against the coarse blanket, she worked up enough friction to shift the cloth a fraction of an inch. Then another. Frustration nearly made her cry out, but she didn’t want to attract the attention of whoever was smoking.
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