Elliot was just another case. A source he might be able to use to his advantage.
Nothing more. Nothing less.
But if that was true, then why did his heart wish he could stay?
* * *
Kate’s phone rang, jolting her awake. She opened her eyes and stared at the sunlight filtering through flowery drapes, trying to figure out where she was. Her mind clicked through the events of the past forty-eight hours in rapid succession. Rachel’d been shot. Sophie was missing. She was in Paris. And Marcus... She still wasn’t sure what to think about the too-good-looking agent.
She grabbed the phone off the bedside table of the room she’d been given. Marcus had left the apartment after a call, leaving her with Jocelyn and Pierre, who’d thankfully left her alone for the most part without hounding her with too many more questions. After lunch, Jocelyn, the forty-something-year-old agent with ebony skin and dark brown eyes, had suggested Kate take a short nap until Marcus returned in order to fight off the jet lag, and Kate had agreed.
She checked the caller ID.
Chad?
Kate’s stomach lurched as she quickly sat up and answered the phone. “Chad? Where are you?”
“You shouldn’t have gotten involved,” he said.
She glanced at the closed door of her bedroom and lowered her voice. “I shouldn’t have gotten involved? Rachel was shot, and you’re telling me that I shouldn’t have gotten involved?”
“I’m sorry.” There was a long pause on the line. “All of this is my fault.”
“Why?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Then at least tell me where you are. We need to talk.”
“We can’t meet.”
“I’m not here to play games, Chad. You owe me an explanation.”
“Who’s the man you were with this morning?”
He knew about Marcus?
“What man?” she asked.
“You got into a car with him.”
“He’s just a friend. Someone I met back in the States recently.” She might not be sure what to think about the good-looking agent, but that didn’t mean Chad needed to know she was helping the FBI. Not yet, anyway. “How do you know?”
“That doesn’t matter, but don’t lie to me, Kate. He’s with the authorities.”
She hesitated briefly. “They want to make sure I’m safe. Your friends...or whoever they were...tried to grab me off the street.”
“I’m sorry about that, but I can’t have the police involved.”
“You keep saying you’re sorry.” Kate heard her voice rise a notch. “But sorry doesn’t exactly cut it. Just tell me where Sophie is, and I’ll be happy to leave. With her.”
“I don’t know. You have to believe me. I never meant for any of this to happen. They...” His voice trailed off.
“They what, Chad?”
“I can’t tell you. I’m in far too deep.”
Kate frowned, but she wasn’t about to give up. She needed a different approach. “I have a feeling we can help each other. Please.”
Another long pause followed. Kate’s heart pounded. She had to make this work.
“Chad?”
“I’ll talk to you, if you come alone. You’ll have to make sure you aren’t followed.”
“I’ll do anything you say, if it helps find Sophie.”
“Can you get to Notre Dame by two o’clock?”
Kate glanced at the clock on the bedside table. That would give her an hour. The safe house was in the Latin Quarter, and while she wasn’t sure how far it was, walking should be an option. “I’ll be there.”
“But, Kate...if I find out that you have a tail, I’ll disappear and I promise, you’ll never see me again.”
* * *
Marcus walked down the crowded street in the heart of the Latin Quarter from the metro and was reminded as to why he loved this city. The safe house they’d secured was located in an eighteenth-century building, a perfect place to disappear. Winding cobblestone streets were filled with quaint cafés, restaurants, boutiques and open markets, along with famous museums and squares. To anyone who saw him walking toward the historic apartment building, he was just another happy tourist here on holiday.
“Marcus?” Pierre’s voice came through his radio earpiece, reminding him he wasn’t here to relax. The lead he’d gone in for had been nothing more than another dead end. It was time they finished this.
Marcus pushed on the earpiece. “Go ahead, Pierre.”
“I’ve got good news and bad news.”
“Something tells me I’m not going to like this.”
Marcus stopped in front of a pasta restaurant with a wide red awning and tables, filled with customers, set up along the sidewalk. “What’s going on?”
“Kate received a phone call, then slipped out of the apartment—”
“She what?”
“Jocelyn and I were in the kitchen talking. We thought she was still in her room on the phone.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Marcus started walking again, quickening his pace down the street toward the apartment. “What in the world was she thinking?”
“We’re thinking one of two things. Either Chad called or the kidnappers called.”
Marcus agreed. More than likely, neither of them would want the authorities involved. And as for Kate, his clear, simple instructions to stay put the next hour hadn’t been enough.
“How long ago?”
“Five...ten minutes at the most. She’s not answering her phone, but she’s headed in the direction of Notre Dame.”
“How do you know?”
“That’s the good news. We just managed to catch up with her.” Pierre gave him their location. “She’s a block ahead of us.”
“Then you need to catch up with her and bring her in.”
“I’m not sure that’s the best idea,” Pierre began.
Marcus frowned. “What do you mean?”
As far
