Months ago, when he’d first started researching her past, he’d felt bad about poking around where he hadn’t been invited, but he’d rationalized it by telling himself that it was his right to know everything he could about the mother of his child. Since she’d made it clear that she didn’t want to talk to him, what choice did he have? But he’d gone deeper than he’d originally intended when he’d discovered that she was the daughter of two international spies. He never would have guessed that she had such an exotic background.
His first impression of Olivia had been that she was a practical, down-to-earth woman—a healthy, easygoing mountain gal who didn’t wear makeup and liked being outdoors. When she’d showed up on his brother’s doorstep and demanded sex, he’d revised that opinion to include passionate. That night, she’d made love like there was no tomorrow. He’d never forget the way she rode him with her blond hair flying in wild tangles and her slender body arched above him. Her small, firm breasts had glistened in the light from a bedside lamp. She’d driven him to a height he’d never reached before. It was no wonder that he hadn’t noticed when the condom had slipped.
After that night, he’d wanted to spend more time with her, but she’d shut him down. He’d returned to his assignment in the Middle East and had tried to forget her. Olivia Laughton would be the one who got away—the woman he’d see only in his fantasies.
Her announcement that she was carrying his child changed his plans, and that was when he’d started digging. Her parents intrigued him. By all accounts, they were charming and sophisticated diplomats. To uncover their connection to the CIA, Troy called in favors from high-ranking sources in the intelligence community. He didn’t know specifics about their assignments, but he had learned of an incident in a South American country that changed the careers of Richard and Sharon Laughton. That incident involved their seven-year-old daughter.
He glanced over at her. “I can’t force you to talk to me, but it’s important for us to figure out who’s after you. Anything you can remember might be helpful.”
“You’re right,” she admitted in a small voice. “I hate that you’re right, but you are.”
“You can tell me anything. I won’t be shocked.”
She exhaled a heavy sigh. “Do you think there’s a connection between the kidnapping when I was a child and what’s happening now?”
“I don’t know.”
She turned away from him with her face in shadow. If he could have seen her expression, he’d have had a better idea of what was going on in her head. Either she would decide to trust him with her secrets or she’d keep that door closed. He hoped for the former.
“It wasn’t that bad,” she said. “When you think of being held captive, it seems like a horror story. But it wasn’t.”
He said nothing, not wanting to interrupt her fragile narrative. There were more vehicles on the road to Keystone, both coming and going. He kept careful watch in the rearview mirror to make sure they weren’t being tailed.
“Our family was stationed in a South American country,” she said. “I don’t even remember which one. I was only seven, and life was kind of a blur, living in one place after another. My sister was four and she was with the nanny all the time. I had more freedom. Our residence was a square with a patio and garden in the middle, which was where I spent most of my time. We had servants, and I played with their kids. Though I wasn’t aware of learning the language, I spoke Spanish as often as English.”
As she continued, her voice became more sure and steady. They were only a few minutes away from their destination, and he decided to prolong their trip so she’d keep talking. He cranked the steering wheel, and the rented SUV made a sharp left.
“Where are we going?” she asked. “This isn’t the way to Keystone.”
“I’m doubling back to make sure we aren’t being followed.”
Her slender hand rested atop her belly. “You know, I’ve never talked about this before. It doesn’t even seem like it happened to me. The memory is more like a movie I saw or something I read in a book.”
Hoping to get her back to the story, he prompted, “Did you have your own room at the residence?”
“I sure did. And a canopy bed with a pink duvet and lots of flounces. The room where my parents slept was huge with a giant walk-in closet. I loved to watch my mother getting all dressed up for special events. The night when the incident took place, she wore a dark blue
V-neck dress with long sleeves and shoulder pads. Remember shoulder pads? My mom always wore them. It was that power dressing thing.”
She was loosening up, and he encouraged her. “I’ve seen photos of your mother. She’s an attractive woman.”
“Beautiful and classy. My sister looks a lot like her. Me? Not really. We all have blond hair, that’s about it.”
He thought Olivia was beautiful, and he’d told her a million times. But that wasn’t the point right now. “When you were a child, did you know what your parents did?”
“They worked at the embassy. That’s all I knew. That’s typical, isn’t it? Most kids don’t have a clue what their parents actually do for a living.”
“Most kids don’t have spies for parents.”
“And they don’t get abducted,” she said. “Okay, now I’ve started this story, I want to get through it.”
“I’m listening.”
“My mom was all dressed up. Since my dad was already at the party, I went to the front of the house with her to wait for the limo that would take her to the party. A big, shiny car pulled up. A strange man got out and talked to her in a low voice. He might have had a gun, probably did, but I didn’t see the weapon. All I knew was that when he grabbed her arm, he was taking my mother away from me. And I knew in my heart that I couldn’t let her go. If I did, I was afraid I’d never see her again. I jumped into the car with her and held on to her with all my strength.”
“You were a gutsy kid.”
“Not at all. I was scared out of my head. I heard the men talking in Spanish, trying to figure out how to get rid of me and I yelled at them that I wouldn’t leave my mother. They ended up with both of us. Two for the price of one.”
“Where did they take you?”
“I curled up on my mom’s lap. We put on blindfolds. She pretended it was a game but I knew better. We drove for a long time. When we got out, we were in a fabulous house—a palace, really. They took us up a marble staircase to the third floor. The doors were locked, but we had plenty of space with a bedroom, a sitting room and a bathroom.”
“And then?”
“Nothing,” she said. “We stayed there for a week. We were well fed and mostly left alone. Then they put on the blindfolds and took us home.”
Troy reminded himself that she was telling this story from the perspective of a seven-year-old. Her mother had been there to protect and reassure her child, and he suspected that Olivia’s mom had gone through hell during that week. “Tell me about a typical day when you were being held captive.”
“I
