Elusive Promise GO PL 2

by Barbara Freethy

  "His phone is off or dead. I tried it last night and again this morning. It doesn't ring, nor does it go to voicemail."

  "Okay. I'm a little closer to Neil, so I'll start with him then."

  As Jared read off a number, she punched it into her phone. Unfortunately, the call went to voicemail. She decided she might as well leave a message. "Hi, Neil, it's Parisa. I was hoping to speak to you about Jasmine, about everything that happened. If you get a chance, please call me back. It's important." She left her number and then disconnected.

  "Want to try Elizabeth?" Jared asked.

  "Sure." Unfortunately, her second call also ended with voicemail. Since she'd already left a message for Neil, she hung up. "Sorry," she said, giving Jared an apologetic shrug.

  "We could just go over there," he suggested.

  She knew he was eager to make something happen, but she wasn't sure that was the right choice. "It's a thought. But if Ben isn't there, and the Langdons get suspicious about our intentions—"

  "We could blow our hand," he finished, his lips tightening with frustration. "I know it's a risk."

  "Let's see if they call me back. I can't see why Neil wouldn't do that. He wouldn't have any idea that I'm trying to connect Ben to a bombing in Paris. And he'd surely be interested in hearing what I want to say about Jasmine."

  "True. I guess we'll wait."

  She gave him a compassionate smile. "Not my strongest trait, either, but sometimes patience is necessary to get the bigger payoff."

  "I agree."

  He'd no sooner finished speaking when her phone rang. She glanced at the number. "It's my FBI contact. I need to take this. Do you mind if I use the bedroom?"

  "Why don't you speak to him here?"

  "Because I don't want to," she said candidly, taking the phone into the bedroom. She closed the door behind her, knowing that she still needed to choose her words carefully in case Jared might be listening, which he probably would be. "Any news?" she asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

  "Yes," Damon replied. "The Larimers received a ransom demand."

  Her gut clenched. "How much?"

  "Ten million dollars."

  She blew out a breath. "That's a lot of cash. How did the Larimers react?"

  "Westley wants to pay it. His father is concerned that paying the ransom won't ensure Jasmine's safe return, but he's moving forward in trying to raise the money. The kidnappers gave him until ten Monday morning."

  "What about proof of life?"

  "There's a video of Jasmine. She's alive."

  "Thank God!" Relief ran through her. "At least we have a little time. Can I ask when the call came in?"

  "Around noon."

  And Anika had abruptly left the hotel a little before one. She and Westley had gotten together after the ransom demand. What did that mean? Had Westley been the one who'd texted Anika to meet him? But why all the subterfuge? Why hadn't they simply met at the café? Why ditch the bodyguard? Why act like they had something to hide?

  "Parisa?" Damon asked sharply. "You still there?"

  "Yes. I was talking to Anika Kumar at the Clairmont Hotel, probably about the time the ransom call came in. She got a text and left quickly, saying it was from her boss, but I had a feeling she was lying. I followed her to a department store, where she ditched her bodyguard and then met up with Westley Larimer in front of a hotel. They said something to each other, and it felt very intimate, but they didn't go into the hotel, they took off down the street. Unfortunately, I had to move out of sight, and I lost them."

  "Are you suggesting there's something between Anika and Westley?" Damon asked in surprise.

  "I don't know—maybe. Anika also told me that Westley wanted cash to start a new company but couldn't get it from his father, who apparently has a tight hold on the purse strings. She wondered if Westley might have used the diamond to get the money he needed."

  "She thinks Westley set all this up? That's a new angle."

  "It might be worth looking into Westley's financials."

  "That's already happening. And Anika's theory doesn't seem to gibe with her meeting Westley in secret."

  "I agree. She seems to be playing a lot of different sides."

  "Which makes her more suspicious in my mind. It's time to do some digging into her life."

  "I agree."

  "Anything else I should know about?" Damon asked. "Are you still hanging with your mysterious friend?"

  "At the moment," she admitted.

  "I ran a check on him, Parisa. He comes up as a freelance journalist. I located some news reports online with his byline."

  "Really? I have to admit I'm a little surprised."

  "Don't be that surprised. His life looks carefully orchestrated, very few details, and those details are difficult to trace. I found nothing on his family, nothing on his personal life, and he appears to live his life on cash. I think your first instinct was correct, that he's working for someone, but he's not working for us. What does he want from you?"

  "Access to Ben Langdon. Jared believes that Ben may have information on the Paris bombing because of his relationship with Sara Pillai."

  "I looked into the bombing as you requested. Isaac Naru and his stepsister Sara Pillai are persons of interest and are a high priority for questioning, but they have disappeared. There was no mention of Ben Langdon in the reports I read, but I have to admit I didn't get too deep into it."

  "If Ben is tied to the terrorist group, then Jasmine's kidnapping could be as well. The group originated in Bezikstan. We can't overlook that tie. My next step is to talk to Ben, but I haven't been able to reach him. Did he give a statement to the bureau?"

  "I'm sure he did, but I haven't personally read it."

  "Since the Langdons are very close to the Kumars, Ben's statement might not have been scrutinized as carefully as it should be. I need to find Ben."

  "If you do, let me know. And, be careful, Parisa. You're still a loose end."

  "Believe me, I'm not going to forget that. Thanks, Damon. I'll be in touch."

  She set the phone down and then flopped back on the bed, which was amazingly comfortable. Scooting toward the pillows, she stretched out on her back, and gazed up at the ceiling, thinking about what Damon had told her.

  At least she knew that Jasmine was still alive. That was the most important thing. There was still hope, and she felt incredibly relieved by that. She suspected the Kumars were feeling the same way.

  She still didn't know why Westley and Anika had had a secret meeting, but at the moment all she could care about was Jasmine and knowing that they had at least until Monday morning to find her and bring her home.

  Drawing in several deep breaths, she felt suddenly exhausted. She'd gotten barely two hours of sleep the night before, and the adrenaline wave she'd been riding was starting to wane. Maybe she'd just rest her eyes for a minute…

  * * *

  "So, Jasmine is alive," Jared said, feeling a wave of relief at the report he'd just gotten from Gary, who was monitoring the police investigation through a personal contact. He'd decided to make his own phone call while Parisa was taking hers. "That's good news."

  "Better than the alternative. But getting her back in good condition will still be tricky. I also picked up a lead on Sara Pillai."

  His pulse jumped. "Seriously?" They'd been tracking Sara since the explosion and had come up with nothing.

  "I've been monitoring flights into New York City for days, and a familiar name popped up yesterday—Melissa Holmes. She was one of Sara's former roommates in Paris, but unlike the others, she was an American student."

  "I'm familiar with Miss Holmes. I talked to her, as well as Sara's other roommates, right after the explosion. Now, she's in New York City?"

  "She's not, but her passport is. I reviewed JFK security cameras and caught a brunette coming off the plane with a New York Yankees baseball cap covering her head and her hair obscuring her features. It made me curious, so I had someone go by Melissa's apartm
ent in Paris, and she's still in France. She looked for her passport and then appeared to be shocked that it was missing. She has very similar features to Sara, and I'm guessing Sara was able to use the passport to come to the United States."

  His heart sped up. "If Sara is here, I'm betting Isaac is, too. And Sara arrived yesterday?"

  "She got in just after nine a.m. However, that's where the trail goes cold. She hasn't checked in anywhere under her own name or Melissa's name, nor has she used any credit cards that can be traced to her."

  "If Sara is in New York, then I have to believe that the Paris explosion and the consulate kidnapping are connected."

  "My gut would agree. Any luck getting to Ben Langdon?"

  "I'm still working on it."

  "Work faster. Daphne called me this morning, asking me where you were. I lied and told her you were probably on a beach somewhere, working on your tan, like she suggested. I don't think she bought it."

  "Thanks for the heads-up. Let me know if you get anything else."

  "Will do."

  As he set down his phone, he blew out a breath, his mind racing with the information he'd gotten from Gary. Sara was in New York. Was she with Ben? They really needed to find Ben.

  He glanced toward the bedroom door. Parisa had been on the phone a long time. She'd probably heard about the ransom demand. That should give her some relief. Jasmine was still alive—and they had time to find her.

  As the minutes ticked by, he began to worry about Parisa. Why hadn't she come back after her call? It had been almost thirty minutes. Surely, she wasn't still on the phone.

  He walked over to the bedroom door and knocked twice. There was no answer. When he opened the door, he saw Parisa on the bed—fast asleep.

  The news about a ransom demand had probably allowed her to let down her guard for a minute, and she had to be tired. He wasn't feeling too energetic at the moment, either. He'd gotten even less sleep than she had the night before, because he'd been watching the building where she'd been hidden away.

  Of course, he couldn't lay down next to her. That wouldn't be appropriate in any way.

  But as he gazed down at the splay of long, brown hair across his pillow, Parisa's beautiful face, the tender bruising around her eye, and the curve of her lips, he found himself filled with all kinds of terrible ideas. He could still feel the heat of her lips against his, the whisper of her breath on his cheek, the fervor of her kiss. What had started out as a cloaking move earlier had turned into a lot more.

  He should not feel this way. He'd kissed plenty of women in his life, some for very similar reasons—to maintain a cover, to get a job done.

  But Parisa—she was different. He couldn't put his finger on it. He didn't know why he felt connected to her. They barely knew each other. But he didn't just feel desire; he also felt protective, and that was another unwelcome feeling.

  He was on a mission to find the Paris bombers, and even though he was willing to put it on the back burner until Jasmine was safe, he couldn't lose sight of it. It was too important.

  Unfortunately, he was out of leads for the moment. He needed a way to get to Ben. Hopefully, Ben's parents would be reachable at some point. They were probably his best bet, unless Gary could pick up Sara's trail somewhere else.

  Turning around, he went back into the living room, closing the door behind him, needing that barrier to help him put Parisa out of his mind.

  He sat down on the couch and turned on the television, perusing the local news, but it was Saturday and there wasn't much on. He wanted to be doing something proactive, and he was frustrated not to have all of his usual resources available to him, but at the moment he was going to have to wait for something to break.

  He settled on a basketball game, hoping for a little distraction, but as the ball moved up and down the court, he felt his lids getting heavy. He laid down on his side and closed his eyes. A little catnap was all he needed.

  Nine

  It was dark when Parisa woke up, and she jerked up on the bed, jumping to her feet, as she tried to remember where she was. Then she realized she was in Jared's apartment. The clock on the nightstand said eight fifteen. She couldn't believe she'd slept for five hours.

  As she walked across the room, she wrinkled her nose at the appealing smell of garlic.

  Opening the door, she was more than a little surprised to see Jared cooking in the kitchen. Something was sizzling in a frying pan on the stove, and there was an open bottle of red wine on the counter.

  "You're cooking?" she asked in amazement, as she moved over to the counter.

  "I got hungry. I figured you'd be, too, once you woke up."

  Guilt ran through her. There was so much to do. It felt wrong to have fallen asleep. On the other hand, she'd desperately needed the rest. "I am hungry," she admitted, her stomach rumbling as she contemplated the steak filets in the frying pan. "It smells good."

  "Almost done," he said, popping open the oven and pulling out two baked potatoes and a pan filled with roasted brussels sprouts.

  "Hmm, now I know why I smelled garlic," she said.

  "I hope you eat meat."

  "Definitely."

  "Help yourself to some wine, if you like." He pulled a wineglass out of the cabinet and set it on the counter in front of her.

  "Looks like you've now familiarized yourself with the kitchen."

  He smiled. "I must admit I haven't done a lot of cooking here."

  "Where did all the food come from?"

  "There's a market downstairs."

  "Handy."

  She poured wine into a glass and sat down at the counter, watching as he spooned butter over the steaks. He moved with confidence and purpose and he looked sexy as hell, strands of hair falling over his forehead as the heat warmed his face. She couldn't remember the last time a man had cooked for her, and despite the extraordinary circumstances they were living in, this moment seemed remarkably normal.

  He glanced in her direction, his green eyes warm and smiling. "How's the wine?"

  "It's perfect," she said, even though she had yet to take a sip. "You appear to know what you're doing."

  "I do know what I'm doing."

  "Are you ever not confident?"

  "Hmm, I'd have to think about that," he said with a grin.

  She couldn't believe how comfortable she felt with a man she didn't know at all.

  "How did your call go earlier?" he asked. "Apparently, you didn't learn anything that made you want to rush out of the apartment and do something."

  "I did get some information, but there was nothing for us to do about it."

  "What did you hear?" He turned down the flame on the steaks as he gave her his attention.

  "The kidnappers made a ransom demand of the Larimers—ten million dollars, to be paid by Monday at ten a.m. The demand came in before we saw Westley and Anika. Maybe they were meeting about that."

  "And I assume there's proof that Jasmine is alive?"

  "Yes. It was a huge relief to know that there's still time to find her."

  "Are there any leads?"

  "Not that I was told. I don't know the details of the ransom exchange, either," she said. "I'm just happy that the Larimers are willing to put up that much cash for a woman who is not yet in their family."

  "It's a lot, especially when they've already lost a diamond worth five times that."

  "Maybe the Kumars will chip in. They're not as wealthy as the Larimers, but they have money."

  "I'm sure they will," he said, returning his attention to the steaks. He flipped them over, then turned off the heat.

  "Can I help?" she asked somewhat halfheartedly.

  "I've got dinner. But if you want to try contacting the Langdons again…"

  "I can do that. I should have done it earlier. I was on your bed, and it was so comfortable, I was just going to close my eyes for a minute. I feel guilty I slept so long."

  "You were exhausted. You don't have to defend yourself. But if you can talk to Neil
or Elizabeth and find out if Ben is staying at the house, maybe we can go by there and see him after we eat."

  She pulled out her phone and saw no missed calls. "He didn't call me back. But I'll give him another shot." She punched in Neil's number. She was almost surprised when he answered. She put the phone on speaker, so Jared could hear the conversation. "Neil, it's Parisa."

  "Oh, my God, Parisa. We've been so worried about you. How are you?"

  "I'm fine. I'm recovered. I called you earlier. Did you get my message?"

  "Yes. I'm sorry. I haven't had a chance to call you back, but I'm happy to hear you're well. Elizabeth spoke with Kenisha earlier, and she said you haven't been able to remember anything that would help the police find the kidnappers."

  "That's unfortunately true."

  "We've heard about the ransom demand and are very happy that Jasmine is alive."

  "It's definitely good news. I really want her to be all right."

  "As do we. Jasmine and Anika are like daughters to Elizabeth and me, and Jasmine has been so kind to Ben since he came to the city."

  "Anika mentioned that." She licked her lips, happy they'd zeroed in on Ben but not wanting to raise any alarm bells. "How is Ben handling everything? Is he staying with you?"

  "Not tonight. He told Elizabeth he wanted to stay with friends, get his mind off the terrible events of last night. None of us slept at all."

  "I know the feeling. Do you think Ben will be home tomorrow? I want to talk to him about something."

  "He should be back sometime in the morning. What did you want to speak to him about?"

  She searched her brain for a good and unalarming reason for her to want to talk to Ben. "When Jasmine and I were talking upstairs, she mentioned Ben was feeling down after a romance in Paris that didn't go well. She wanted to give him a book of poetry that had helped her when she'd gone through a breakup, and she thought it might do the same for Ben. She'd actually written a personal note to Ben on the inside cover. I was looking at it when the air went bad and everything went nuts. When I got to the hospital, I still had the book in my hands. It seemed like a sign that I was meant to pass it along. I was thinking it might help Ben get through this, too."