Taken (12 page)

“So he was in no hurry to sell the diamonds,” Kate said.

“Exactly. For the most part, thieves have two options. They can hide their spoils for months or even years, or the other option is to fence them.”

“To whom?”

“He might have tried to cut a deal with an illegal wholesaler. Chad would sell the diamonds at a loss, but still make money, which in turn makes everyone happy.”

“So that explains why he sent them to Rachel.” Marcus picked a lemon tartlet from the tray and took a small bite. “He assumed they’d be safe there, and that Rachel would never discover she actually had the diamonds.”

“What he didn’t expect was that she would decide not to keep the music boxes,” Kate said.

“And when someone discovered what he’d been doing and wanted the diamonds back...he had nothing to give them,” Jocelyn said.

“So someone clearly knew what Chad was doing,” Marcus threw out. “His boss? A coworker? Maybe whoever cut the diamonds for him?”

“His boss makes the most sense to me,” Jocelyn said, picking up her second small piece of cake. This one was covered in bright lime-green fondant. “They would be the ones ultimately losing money from his buying and skimming.”

“What about Rachel?” Pierre asked as he sat back in his chair, holding his coffee. “Is there a chance she found out what he was involved in? Or maybe was involved in it with him?”

The question stung even though it wasn’t the first time the possibility had been brought up. But no matter how she looked at the situation, she couldn’t bring herself to believe Rachel was involved.

“Like I said earlier,” she said, “I couldn’t find any mentions of the diamonds in her journal—”

“That doesn’t mean she didn’t know what was going on,” Pierre pressed.

Kate frowned at the implications.

“We have to look into everything, Kate,” Marcus said, setting down his coffee.

“I know, it’s just that...you don’t know Rachel the way I do. She was horrible at keeping secrets. I can’t see her sitting on a fortune and not breathing a word to anyone.”

“But she knew something was off with her husband.”

Kate closed her eyes for a moment. “She’d been distant the past few months, and I assumed it was because of the problems in her marriage. When Chad moved out of the house, she more or less became a single mom. It was hard for her.”

Kate shook her head as snippets of their conversation the morning Rachel had been shot resurfaced. “The morning I found her—after she’d been shot—she told me that the last time she saw Chad, he was scared.”

“About what?” Pierre asked.

“I don’t know. She just said that the last time she went to see him in Paris, he’d told her he was scared. She’d hinted she was afraid he’d gotten himself involved in something illegal.”

“Like smuggling diamonds. I’d lose sleep over getting caught, as well,” Pierre said.

“She said he wouldn’t tell her, but that it wasn’t something she needed to worry about.”

“What if they were in it together?” Jocelyn threw out. “What if she knew exactly what was in those music boxes because he told her? What if she was a part of the plan and they were waiting until they could sell the diamonds and buy an island or a house in Belize?”

Kate’s head began to pound. “Then why not just keep the music boxes? I saw her mail those packages to someone.”

“Maybe she wasn’t returning them to him like you assumed, but hiding them so he wouldn’t be able to find them,” Pierre added.

“And betray Chad? No.” While she couldn’t believe Rachel had been involved in something illegal, neither could she believe she’d betray Chad.

Marcus reached out and squeezed her hand. “Unfortunately, we won’t know for certain until she wakes up, so I think this is enough for now. Until we can speak with Rachel, everything we come up with is just speculations. What we need to focus on right now is simply finding those diamonds, and I think the place to start is Chad’s father.”

Kate nodded, grateful for his stepping in. He was right. Until Rachel woke up—if she woke up—he was right. They were simply grasping at straws.

“What else do you know about Chad’s father?” Marcus asked.

“Like I said, I only met him twice. The first time was at Rachel and Chad’s wedding. His English is pretty good so we chatted for a bit after the ceremony. He visited one other time in Dallas a few weeks after Sophie was born, but that was almost five years ago. I haven’t seen him since.”

Kate continued flipping through the photo albums, trying to remember what else she knew about the man. As with everything she did, Rachel had meticulously taken photos, labeled and organized them. Her last trip to Paris was no exception. Chad had taken some time off, but on days he had to work, Andre Laurent had taken her and Sophie around the city, but not to just the typical tourist destinations. Instead, he’d taken them to the Place des Vosges, the oldest square in Paris, where Victor Hugo had lived; the famous Berthillon ice cream shop for raspberry and mango ice cream; and one of the traditional, outdoor Le Guignol puppet shows for children.

She started to turn another page, then paused as the pieces of the puzzle began popping into place. “What if she sent the music boxes to Chad’s father?”

“Why would she do that?” Jocelyn asked.

“I don’t know, but the journal entries where she talks about Ace fit into the time period of this trip. Ace could be Chad’s father. And look at this...”

“What is it?” Marcus asked.

“It’s a photo of Chad’s father from Rachel’s last trip to Paris. They spent the morning at the Louvre. I remember now that she told me that he is a copyist.”

“A what?” Marcus asked.

“Haven’t you ever visited a museum in Paris, Marcus?” Jocelyn asked.

Marcus frowned. “Of course.”

“He goes to the Louvre every day and studies how to paint by actually copying the masterpieces.” Kate nodded and handed him the photo. “He’s especially interested in Renaissance artists.”

“So what are you thinking?” Pierre asked. “That we might find him there?”

“It’s worth a try,” Kate said.

“The copyists arrive at 9:30 a.m., five days a week,” Jocelyn explained. “And I suppose it’s as good as any place to start looking for Monsieur Laurent if the police can’t track him down sooner.”

“And if we find him?” Kate asked.

“We?”

“I’m going with you, Marcus.”

“Kate—”

“There is no way you can expect me to stay cooped up in this tiny apartment. Besides, if he knows something about the diamonds, do you think he’ll just tell you or hand them over to you?”

“We’ve been over this before, Kate.”

“She’s right, Marcus.” Jocelyn set her coffee cup on the table. “Kate’s much more liable to get the truth out of him than you will be.”

“Thanks, I thought you two were on my side. I can’t take care of Kate and run this investigation.”

“We’ll be there as backup,” Pierre said. “If they come after you, your job is to keep Kate safe, and we’ll take them down.”

Marcus shook his head, clearly not liking the idea.

“You know I need to be there,” Kate started.

“No sneaking off and trying to do things on your own.”

Kate nodded her head. “I promise.”

“Then we’ll need a layout of the museum and a detailed security plan,” Marcus said, still not looking 100 percent convinced. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right.”

TWELVE

“K
ate...Kate?”

Kate’s eyes flew open. She fought to suck in a breath of air. She sat up and felt the perspiration running down her forehead as she tried to figure out where she was.

“Kate, slow down.” Marcus’s voice tried to calm her. “You’re okay. It was just a bad dream.”

She looked up from the couch where she was sitting and tried to stop the room from spinning. Marcus knelt beside her, his hands gently on her shoulders.

“I thought I heard Sophie,” she said. “She was calling me.”

Marcus ran his hand down her arm. “It was just a dream, Kate.”

She shook her head, still not convinced. Everything had seemed so real. She had heard Sophie’s voice. She had to be somewhere nearby.

Marcus’s expression softened. “You fell asleep after we all moved to the couch to finish talking about tomorrow. You looked so tired, though, I didn’t want to wake you. I’m just waiting for Jocelyn. She had to run out for a few minutes. She’s planning to stay with you. Remember?”

Kate nodded, then pressed her fingers against the sides of her temples as the room slowly began to come back into focus. They needed to find Chad’s father. Planned to visit the Louvre in the morning. But she had been so tired. Thought she would just close her eyes for a few moments while the three of them finished planning.

“Sophie was there...hiding in the shadows, out of reach,” she said, the dream still just as clear. “I wanted so bad to find her. To bring her home.”

“I know. It was just a dream.”

But it wasn’t just a dream. Her heart was still pounding. Sophie was gone. That was real.

He ran his thumb down her cheek, the concern clear in his eyes. “Are you going to be okay?”

She grasped his hand and nodded. “I will be.”

Eventually. Though she was quite certain that the scars left by this experience might never completely fade.

“Our conversation in the park was interrupted.” He sat back, studying her. “You were going to tell me about your family.”

She knew what he was doing. Trying to distract her. Trying to pull her away from the lingering panic of the dream.

“I... My parents had been married for twenty years when I was born. My sister was born eleven months later.”

“That had to be a bit of an adjustment for them.”

“It was.” The grip of the dream began to diminish. “They were essentially starting parenthood in their mid-forties with two children under one. From the stories I’ve heard, it was quite a challenge. After twenty years of marriage, they had to completely rethink their entire lives. They owned a butchery, enjoyed traveling, and going out with friends, when all of a sudden they were taking care of children.”

“So here’s an odd question. Why didn’t you or your sister decide to follow in your parents’ footsteps and take over the butchery?”

Kate laughed, as the tension between them temporarily eased. “From around seventh grade through university, I was a vegetarian, something that horrified my father. I’m still not a big meat eater, though I don’t mind a good, well-done steak every once in a while. They eventually sold the business and retired once we graduated from college.”

“And Rachel? The two of you seem close.”

Thoughts of her sister brought the dark shadow of the moment back over their conversation. “Rachel’s had a few rough years. I’ll admit I wasn’t behind her relationship with Chad from the beginning, and now...well, I hate thinking that I was right about him.”

“What had you concerned?”

She paused, wondering if he was asking as an agent or simply because he was trying to be supportive. “I’m not sure. He was good to her for the most part, but when he asked her to marry him they hardly knew each other. He’d traveled extensively. I think she suspected he was having an affair at one point. It wasn’t something we spoke about. But the wonderful outcome of their relationship was Sophie. I love being an aunt, and have spoiled her from the day she was born.”

“What about your father?”

“My father passed away five years ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I still miss him, but my mom’s busy and doing well. Loves being a grandmother and takes care of Sophie several days a week.” Kate stared across the room, ready to take the attention off herself. “What about you?”

“I have a big family,” Marcus began. “Sort of a yours, mine and ours scenario.”

“Really?”

“You sound surprised.”

“I don’t know. I kind of pictured you as an only child.”

“And why is that?”

She leaned back slightly, taking the opportunity to study him. Blue eyes, hint of a five-o’clock shadow, determined chin and a strong jawline. “You seem more the strong, silent type. Independent. A deep need for privacy.”

“I can assure you that growing up, I had no privacy. Actually there are seven of us and I’m the oldest. My parents divorced, then both of them remarried, so our family is a crazy mixture of half and step siblings.”

“Are you close?”

“Work tends to get in the way, and we’re spread out across the country, with my youngest brother in Korea, where he teaches English. I’m closest to one of my brothers, Shane. He lives on the other side of Dallas. I eat Sunday dinner with him and his family every month or two and go fishing and camping with them when I have time off. Hang out with his three boys.”

He told her about his younger sister, who lived in Italy, the trip he took last year with his brothers to Chicago and about his faith that struggled during college until he’d determined to make it his own.

Though she was enjoying his stories, and the chance to see him as a person and not just an agent, she couldn’t stifle a yawn.

“You’re tired,” he said.

She nodded. “I just need a good night’s sleep.”

Without any dreams.

“And tomorrow, if you—”

“I’ll be fine tomorrow. Please...stop worrying.”

“I can’t make any promises, but I’ll try.” Marcus kissed her gently on the cheek then stood up as Jocelyn stepped through the front door. “I’ll see you in the morning, then, Kate. Good night.”

* * *

The next morning, Kate stayed close to Marcus as they made their way through the line of tourists across the open courtyard outside the Louvre’s famed pyramid entrance, which provided light to the underground lobby. She knew Marcus still wasn’t sold on the idea of her coming along, but at least he hadn’t tried to make her stay behind. She watched the crowds for signs of the men who’d tried to snatch her, but so far she hadn’t seen anyone who looked familiar.

Everywhere she looked, there were uniformed officers. She’d noticed them on the streets, in the metro and outside Notre Dame. Today, there seemed to be additional soldiers carrying automatic guns outside one of Paris’s top tourist destinations.

“Is the police’s presence always so...pronounced?” she asked, taking a step forward in the moving line.

“Eight-million-plus visitors come to the Louvre alone every year,” Marcus told her. “Add a few networks of criminals, an influx of criminal gangs from Eastern Europe along with the occasional bomb threat, and I think the added security is probably here to stay. I’ve heard they’ve also increased the number of surveillance cameras and added a significant number of plainclothes officers.”

“I guess I should feel safer.”

But she didn’t. Not really. Instead they seemed more a reminder of what could go wrong.

She walked through the security checkpoint, checked her bag through the X-ray machine, then studied the crowd while Marcus bought them two tickets. An older couple walked past, hand in hand, a young woman pushed a stroller, while a group of students armed with backpacks hurried to keep up with their teachers.

More reminders she wasn’t here to enjoy the museum.

Because armed police, bomb threats, kidnappings and ransom notes weren’t exactly a part of her day-to-day world. Her life ran on routine, made up of family, church and school. Until the past few days had managed to twist that life into something she couldn’t even recognize.

She tried to stuff the fear away in a separate compartment—one she’d have to deal with when this was all over. For now, they needed to go ahead with their plan because so far the police hadn’t been able to locate Chad’s father. Without Rachel—and without Monsieur Laurent—their chances of finding the diamonds were diminishing by the hour. And the clock was ticking.

“I guess you’ve never had the chance to visit the Louvre?” Marcus asked, pulling her away from her thoughts.

“No.” The desire to forget reality and simply meander through the thousands of treasures tucked away throughout the famed museum tugged harder.

“Originally,” Marcus began, “it was built as a fortress back in the twelfth century, but several hundred years later it was reconstructed to serve as a royal palace.”

Kate glanced at the brochure he’d handed her, the tension in her gut refusing to lift.

“By the end of the eighteenth century,” he continued, “the Louvre had become an art museum, filled with royal artifacts as well as acquisitions from conquered lands, which is why you’ll find almost everything you could imagine. Egyptian antiques, ancient Greek and Roman crown jewels—”

“And my favorite.” She flashed him a weak smile. “The
Mona Lisa
.”

“And that of half the people in this museum at the moment.”

But today she wasn’t expecting to catch a glimpse of Leonardo da Vinci’s masterpiece, or the armless beauty of the
Venus de Milo
or any of the other famed offerings of the museum. Today she was simply praying to find answers that would lead her to her niece.

Using the museum’s official map, Marcus led her through a maze of halls and rooms. Throughout, painters were working on creating their own replicas of some of the most famous works of art in the world. With their easels and stools set up across the diverse rooms of the Louvre’s galleries, in front of the gold-framed works of art displayed on colored walls.

“Do you see him in here?” Marcus asked.

“Not yet.”

She kept walking beside Marcus, barely glancing at the art they passed. Her nerves were on edge as she searched the crowd for Monsieur Laurent. For the men who were after her.

A moment later, she found him. Andre Laurent was standing inside the grand Renaissance room, a fine paintbrush in his hand next to a colorful palette of paints. She crossed the large room, stopping half a dozen feet from where he stood, staring at the painting hanging on the wall in front of him. He wore a collared shirt and a striped vest, as well as the same overgrown mustache she remembered. Sophie had once commented how he always tickled her cheek when he greeted her.

“Excusez-moi, Monsieur Laurent...”

Andre Laurent looked away from the painting to Kate. The older man’s brow furrowed for a moment as if trying to remember who she was, then shifted into a broad smile. “You’re Rachel’s sister.”

“Yes. I’m Kate.” She smiled at the older man. “I’m visiting Paris for a few days. Rachel told me you spend most of your time here. I was hoping to find you.”

He set down his paintbrush and paints, then shook his head, still clearly surprised. “It’s good to see you.” He smiled, then kissed her lightly on each cheek before pulling back and catching her gaze. “You look beautiful, Kate, and so much like Rachel. The same eyes and cheekbones.”

“Thank you. And your painting. It’s beautiful, as well.”

“The artist is Bernardino Luini, and he painted this almost five hundred years ago.” He pointed to the painting on the wall. “
Nativity and Annunciation to the Shepherds.
Five hundred years ago, and I’m still learning from him.”

“Rachel told me how much you enjoyed creating replicas.”

“Four hours a day. Five days a week. Each canvas must be a different size from the original and signed, dated and stamped. There are 150 of us who waited a year to get this privilege. For these few hours I’m here every day it’s like I become the student to the master painter, and the Louvre is the book from which I learn to read. That was first said by the renowned Postimpressionist painter Paul Cezanne, who did the same thing over 150 years ago. But enough of me, I had no idea you were in Paris. Rachel didn’t tell me. How long has it been...five years?”

“Yes. It’s been a long time. When Sophie was born.” Kate turned to Marcus, unable to put off the inevitable. “I’d like you to meet Marcus O’Brian. He’s an FBI agent from the United States.”

M. Laurent shook Marcus’s hand. “FBI? I’m afraid I don’t understand. I assumed you were in Paris on holiday.”

“No, we’re here to speak to you about Chad.”

M. Laurent’s face paled. “I’m sorry...I don’t understand.”

Kate glanced around the room, where half a dozen tourists studied the paintings in the room. “Is there somewhere private we could go? The police have been trying to find you.”

The older man clasped his hands together. “Chad told me to be careful. Told me to go to a hotel for a few days. That he was in some kind of trouble, but he wouldn’t tell me what was going on.”

“M. Laurent, I don’t know how to tell you this, but—”

He looked up and caught her gaze. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

Kate drew in a deep breath and nodded. “I’m so sorry. He was hit by a truck yesterday afternoon near Notre Dame. I know that he and my sister had their issues, but he was still family. I really am so, so sorry.”

M. Laurent stumbled backward a step, then sat down on his stool. “I knew something was wrong, but he wouldn’t tell me. I even tried to call Rachel to see what she knew, but I never was able to get through.”

“Chad
was
involved with some dangerous people,” Marcus added. “We’re still not 100 percent sure if they were the cause of his death, but Kate is helping me find answers.”

“What about Rachel?” the older man asked.

Kate’s stomach felt queasy at the question. She hadn’t expected to have to tell him about Rachel and Sophie, as well. “Chad didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what? Except for his call on Tuesday, telling me to go to a hotel, it’s been at least a month since I spoke to Chad.”

“She...” Kate looked to Marcus, then told M. Laurent briefly what had happened with Rachel. “She’s still in the hospital, and will more than likely be there for a while.”