If I Could Stay

by Annette K. Larsen

  He glanced at the mirror before leaning in. I stiffened, wanting to back away, to put more distance between us, because all of my reasons for not trusting him were flooding back. But I knew that he was trying to keep our conversation private, so I stayed still and listened. “There is a lot I need to tell you about your father and your sister.”

  I sucked in a breath. Did he know about Renee?

  “But here isn’t the place. If you agree to hear me out, I have a friend who will secure your release and ensure that no reports are filed about you.”

  My brain kicked into overdrive as I flipped through possible outcomes and consequences. “All I have to do is hear you out?”

  “Yes.”

  It would get me out of here, and at the moment that was my most pressing concern, so I agreed.

  He smiled in relief, then reached for my hand as he said, “Thank you.”

  I pulled away, unwilling to let him touch me. “Just get me out of here.”

  A flash of hurt passed over his face, but he nodded and slipped from the room.

  18

  I WALKED OUT of the station with my purse over my shoulder and my arms folded tight across my chest. Jack walked at my side holding my go-bag. I didn’t say anything, intent on simply walking as far from the police station as possible.

  We had gone nearly two blocks before I spoke. “So, are you an FBI agent now?”

  “No, I’m here for you.”

  My laugh was bitter, my steps clipped. “Sure. And how is it that you knew I was here? How did that cop even know to bring me in? He didn’t bother asking me anything about my ID, and since you’re here, I’m guessing that’s not what gave me away.”

  “The officer who brought you in recognized you from the photo he had.”

  I halted, turning to face him as hot betrayal washed over me.

  “That’s how he knew you had a fake ID, because it didn’t match the information he had on you. He just used the fact that you presented false information as grounds to bring you in so that I could talk to you.”

  “What photo?” I asked as a seething anger lit my chest.

  His gaze was level, but sad. “A photo I took of you while we were in Cameron. I distributed it to law enforcement so we could catch you before you got to your sister’s house.”

  I could hardly see through the haze of anger lining my vision. “You took a photo of me without my permission, and then distributed it to law enforcement?”

  “Leila—”

  “What the hell, Jack?” I yelled. “Did you go running to your law buddies the minute I left town? Did you have fun telling them all the big juicy story about how you’d met me? You must have had a field day when I started calling.” My voice rose, starting to sound a little maniacal. “I’m surprised the FBI didn’t recruit you on the spot.”

  “I started looking into your father. I did. But I did that completely on my own, and I did it for you, because I care about you.” His eyes were intense, too intense. “I didn’t leverage it for my career. I didn’t flaunt it and go telling anyone about it. I didn’t even talk to the FBI until you gave me that name. Joseph Hilmida? Remember?” His voice rose along with his frustration. “You asked me to pass that along.”

  I wanted to bite back at him, keep fighting, but his words had entirely disarmed me. So I fell silent and started walking again while staring at the ground. “So, who’s this mysterious person who got me out of jail?”

  He blew out a quiet breath, but I heard it. “Agent Spencer is with the FBI. He’s behind us.”

  I spun around, almost tripping over the fact that I had been completely unobservant the last several minutes. A guy about twenty feet behind us gave me a short smile.

  I turned back and kept walking. “What’s he doing lurking back there?”

  “I think you make him nervous.”

  “How did I manage that?” My tone was flat, belying the angst that roiled at the suggestion that I could make anyone in this situation nervous. As if I had any power at all.

  “I think just the fact that you’re Julien Marchant’s daughter was enough to do it.”

  My shoulders stiffened. “I can’t help who my parents are.”

  “Of course, but your father has a reputation for being—”

  I stopped in my tracks and turned on him. “I know my father’s reputation!” My momentary calm shattered all at once. I was fed up, annoyed, hurt, and scared out of my wits. “And I don’t care if I’m making all you people nervous.”

  A look of hurt crossed his face, but he held his hands out to me, placating and apologetic. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I was trying to…I don’t know…lighten the mood. It was stupid, I know.”

  “An FBI agent is following me. My mood will not be lightening,” I said with a sneer.

  He was silent, staring at me with frustration and an understanding that I wanted to discount. “You really are safe now,” he said. I hated that he saw past my anger to my vulnerability.

  “You keep telling yourself that.” My voice shook and I hated it. “Are we going to stop and talk to the agent or what?”

  He carefully took my arm and I let him lead me off the sidewalk and behind a stone pillar to the side of a shop entrance. Then he wrapped his arms around me.

  My brain wanted me to pull away and refuse to let him comfort me, but the second he was near I latched onto him and closed my eyes. I would let him ground me, just for a moment, so I wouldn’t feel quite so much like I was drifting at sea, about to be dashed on unseen rocks by unpredictable waves.

  “I know this is hard,” he whispered in my ear. “And you’re probably scared out of your wits, but you can do this.”

  I could do this. Sure. But did I want to? Was it worth it?

  I thought of Renee and the trouble she was in. “You said there was something you needed to tell me about my sister?”

  “Yes, I do. Or, he does. Are you okay to talk with Agent Spencer now?”

  If they had information about Renee… “Yes.”

  He pulled back, gave my upper arms a squeeze, and then looked over my shoulder and waved him over.

  “Hello, Miss Marchant, I’m Agent Spencer.”

  I nodded.

  “Would you be willing to come with us to the Regional Agency Office and talk with us?”

  “No.”

  He looked at Jack then back at me. “But—”

  “I told Jack I would hear you out. I never agreed to go to an FBI office.”

  He gave a stiff nod before diving in. “I want to assure you from the start that Officer Trent is here as your advocate and support.”

  I shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortable with the fact that I wanted Jack and didn’t want him at the same time. I crossed my arms tighter and fixed my eyes on the agent.

  “Renee called you,” he said.

  My eyes narrowed and I turned to glare at Jack. “So you did track my calls?” My incredulity demonstrated just how much faith I had put in Jack. Even though I knew he was a cop. Even though I knew he wanted to know about me and investigate, I had thought he would respect my wishes, that he would trust that I knew what was best for me. Anger and betrayal welled up as my thoughts tumbled around, trying to work out how it would have been possible for him to track the call from Renee—and then I realized.

  It wasn’t possible.

  My brow furrowed in confusion as I stared at him, trying to put my thoughts back together. Then I turned back to the agent. “The call from Renee was on a completely separate phone than the one I used to call Jack.”

  “We didn’t track it from your end,” Agent Spencer answered. “We have a man on the inside who heard Renee make the call, and we knew you would come if she asked.”

  “You’re going after Renee?” My sisterly protective instincts flared up, while at the same time I knew I couldn’t blame them for wanting to stop her. I wondered if I had met the inside man when I was with her, but then realize it didn’t really matter.

  “She’s just a mea
ns to finding your father.”

  “That will never work. My father doesn’t have anything to do with Renee.” Dad had abandoned Renee long ago.

  “Perhaps not directly, but he’s been keeping tabs on her for years.”

  “He has?” My eyes strayed to Jack once again, and he gave me an encouraging smile.

  Agent Spencer nodded again. “Renee had an easier time getting her business off the ground than she should have. From what we can tell, your father knew what she was doing, and he allowed it to happen. I think he even takes a sort of pride in what she’s doing and how she’s doing it. But make no mistake, Renee continues to operate because your father allows it, not because she’s outsmarted him.”

  Of course. She had been lured into a false sense of security because she underestimated our father. He was always in control.

  I studied the agent in front of me and wondered if I was just as naive as Renee had been.

  “Does my father know she’s sick? Do you? Does the FBI know if she’s okay, because I haven’t been able to get a hold—”

  “Your sister is fine, Miss Marchant.”

  I pulled back. “What do you mean, fine?” She wasn’t fine. Her message had sounded anything but fine.

  “She’s not sick. There are no doctors. Her life is not in danger because of any health issue or illness.”

  I wanted to be relieved, to let go of all the worry and tension that was caught up in Renee, but my body wouldn’t let it go. There was no relaxing, because I didn’t believe him. I shook my head since no words could make it past my lips, which were pressed so tightly they may have been white. If she wasn’t sick, that would mean that she had lied to get me here, and that thought…

  “She’s not sick,” he repeated. “But she is in danger.”

  Another wave of worry hit me in the face, but again, I couldn’t find the words I needed.

  “We’ve had a man working inside your sister’s organization for nearly a year with very little actionable information coming up about your father.” He paused, taking a breath. “Until last week.”

  I leaned forward.

  “Miss Marchant, your father has taken up residence inside your sister’s house. He’s the reason she wants you to come back.”

  I pulled back, the world feeling suddenly tilted and uneven. “That’s not possible. There is no way that Renee would work with my father.”

  “Your father didn’t give her a choice.”

  His words clanged around in my head, heavy and discordant. My father had taken up residence in Renee’s house, against her will.

  It was a siege.

  Renee wasn’t sick; she was being held by my father. I couldn’t decide which was worse. “What does he want? Is he threatening her? Trying to ruin her business? What?”

  “We have a recording of the events surrounding the call your sister made to you, but you would have to come back to the office to hear it.”

  I swallowed and my eyes darted from Jack to Agent Spencer, back and forth as I tried to decide if I believed him and if it would be worth it. “I’d like to speak with Jack now, please.”

  “Sure thing.” Agent Spencer nodded and stepped away.

  “Is this guy for real?” I asked as soon as the agent was out of earshot. “Do you trust him? I mean really trust him?”

  “I do. When I went to the bureau with the information about Joseph, I was put in touch with Agent Spencer. He knows your father has moles, so all of the intel is compartmentalized. I also did a lot of checking up on him. Everything I found and every interaction he and I have had make me trust him.”

  I began to hyperventilate, and I shoved my hands into my hair, trying to regain some semblance of control. “It was all a trap.”

  “Did that possibility never cross your mind?” Jack asked gently.

  An angry, pathetic burst of laughter escaped me. “Of course it did. I always think it might be a trap. I was prepared for the situation with Renee to be a set-up.” I swallowed a knot of hurt that had lodged in my throat. “What I didn’t anticipate was the trap that you set.”

  He sucked on his lower lip as he looked up at the sky. Then he slowly nodded before looking back at me. “Okay. I deserve that. But I won’t apologize for it. Not when it kept you safe from your father.”

  “For now.”

  “Yes, for now,” he said, his voice rising. “And safe for now is way better than not safe for now.”

  “Fine!” I said it just to make him stop, because he was making sense and I didn’t want him to make sense. I wanted to be mad at him. I wanted to be right. I wanted the situation to make sense, and it didn’t yet. “He said he wanted me to go to an office. Is that really necessary?”

  “It’s your choice, Leila.”

  My heart jolted at the sound of my name.

  “I know this makes you uncomfortable, but I also know that you want to protect Renee. The best way for you to do that is to hear what the FBI has to say.”

  I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to.

  But I had to.

  “Fine,” I agreed.

  The speed with which the agent showed up with a car was disconcerting, but I held on to the fact that Jack thought this would work. I was going voluntarily. Supposedly I could leave at any point. I got in the car, which was new and leathery and smelled sterile, and immediately started freaking out, so I tried to distract myself.

  “Agent Spencer, I read last spring that my father’s girlfriend went missing. Do you know anything about that?”

  “Yes. She was one of ours, actually. She’s the closest we’ve come to getting someone inside your father’s organization. But he never fully trusted her, and when he became suspicious, we had to pull her out.”

  A knot in my chest relaxed. “So she’s fine? She’s not at the bottom of some canal?”

  “No, Miss Marchant.”

  I nodded to myself and tried to let that relief ease some of my anxiety, but it didn’t work and when we arrived at the building, I had to force myself to shut down all of my fight-or-flight responses. It was just a regular office building, not architecturally impressive or imposing. Agent Spencer took us to the employee entrance and quickly searched me for weapons before scanning his badge and entering a security code.

  I clutched my purse strap in a death grip as I followed behind Agent Spencer, my eyes practically laser-engraving his back. We stepped into his office and I tried not to flinch when the door clicked shut. Agent Spencer logged into his computer while Jack encouraged me to sit down and then pulled up a chair beside me. I told myself he was my advocate, that he was here to support me, but he had also ratted me out to the FBI. Whether or not his intentions were good, that fact grated.

  So I faced Agent Spencer, staying on the very edge of my seat, unable to relax or even breathe normally.

  Finally, Agent Spencer looked at me. “I’m going to play the audio recording we received from our source. That way you can hear exactly what was said between Julien and Renee that prompted her to call you.”

  I nodded even though my body screamed that I did not want this. I didn’t want to hear my father’s voice, didn’t want to know what he had demanded.

  Agent Spencer’s mask broke and I saw a spark of true empathy. “I have to warn you: what you’re about to hear is disturbing.”

  I mentally scoffed but my voice was hollow when I spoke. “I have no doubt about that.”

  His head bobbed, and then he pushed a few buttons before sitting back in his chair.

  My father’s voice floated out of the speakers, making my heart go cold. “Make the call, Renee.” It was the same tone he always used when giving a command. Flat, direct. No worry that someone would refuse.

  “No. I won’t drag her into this.” Renee spoke boldly, but there was a tremor.

  “It’s too late for that. I’ll get my way; you know I will. The only question is how many people will have to suffer before you make the call.”

  “She’ll suffer if I mak
e the call!” she shouted.

  “I’m trying to protect her. She needs to be home, where she belongs. I would never hurt her.”

  “You expect me to just take your word on that?” Anger and bitterness coated her words. “You expect me to give up the one person in this world who I care about?”

  “I don’t think she’s the only one you care about.” My father’s voice took on a menacing quality, making my stomach turn.

  The sound of a scuffle and indistinct shouts came over the recording before the shouting voice was muffled and quieted.

  “I believe you care about this man.”

  Ice pumped through my veins as I wondered who he was threatening, and what he would do to him.

  My father continued, “This man who you encouraged to betray me. This man who you manipulated into aiding Leila in her dangerous plans to flee. I think you care about him.”

  “Dad, please don’t.” The desperate plea from my sister made my eyes prick. I put a hand to my mouth, knowing that the only person he could be referring to was Milo.

  “You seem to care whether he lives or dies. And I would wager that you care whether most of your employees live or die. That’s why you were never going to survive in this business, Renee. Make the call.”

  “I can’t.” Her voice was a desperate, whispered lament.

  “That’s unfortunate.”

  A shot rang out. My own startled scream echoed the sound of Renee’s. I pressed my palms into my eyes, holding my breath in an attempt not to cry as I listened to the chaos that continued to jumble together over the speakers.

  Finally, my father’s voice rang out over everything. “What will it be, Renee? Make the call and guarantee your people’s safety as well as your sister’s? Or refuse and we’ll see just how many people you’re willing to sacrifice in order to keep Leila from me?”

  A broken, limping silence buzzed for more than a minute before Renee spoke. “Just tell me why. Why do you need her? And don’t tell me it’s just because you care. I’ll never believe that! Tell me why you need her.”