Elusive Promise GO PL 2

by Barbara Freethy

  The Paris bombing was a global issue. That made her think he worked internationally. If he was part of an agency, why did he seem so isolated?

  At some point, they were going to have to put all their cards on the table. But that point wasn't now.

  After Jared parked, they got out of the car and walked down the street to the Langdons' building. There was a doorman in the lobby, who asked for their names, then made a call upstairs. After a moment of conversation, he hung up the phone and gave them a nod. "You can go up—912—ninth floor."

  "They're home," she said, feeling excited that they were going to talk to someone.

  "This is a luxury building and knowing a little about Manhattan rents, I'd have to ask how a teacher from Bezikstan can afford this," Jared commented, as they got into the mirrored elevator.

  Her brows knit together at his question. "Good point. I think Neil might come from money, but I don't know for sure."

  "Worth looking into," he muttered, thinking he needed to expand his research beyond Ben.

  "Let me take the lead with the Langdons," she said, as the elevator doors opened. "They'll expect that."

  "No problem. I'll just be your devoted boyfriend, who is incredibly relieved that you weren't kidnapped." He grabbed her hand. "For our cover."

  "You're pushing it, Jared."

  He laughed. "Not yet I'm not, but who knows what's coming?"

  As a flicker of desire ran through his gaze, her gut clenched, and her fingers tightened around his. In truth, neither one of them knew what was coming next, but she was looking forward to finding out.

  Thirteen

  Parisa knew she should let go of Jared's hand, but she couldn't seem to find the will. They were still holding hands when Elizabeth Langdon answered the door. Elizabeth had short, black hair and dramatic gold-flecked brown eyes that were heavy with liner. Her black slacks and thin, shimmery blue sweater showed off a slender frame. Despite her put-together appearance, Parisa could see the worry in her eyes and the paleness in her skin.

  "Parisa," she said. "You're all grown up."

  "Yes, I am."

  "Neil mentioned you called last night. I'm glad to see you're well."

  Parisa let go of Jared to kiss Elizabeth on both cheeks. "This is my boyfriend, Jared MacIntyre." She would have thought using the term boyfriend would have made her stumble, but it had come out surprisingly easy.

  "It's nice to meet you, Mr. MacIntyre," Elizabeth said politely.

  "You, too. Parisa has spoken very fondly of you and your husband and your son."

  "That's sweet. Neil and Ben aren't here right now, but come in. Would you like something to eat or drink?"

  "No, we're good," Parisa said, answering for both of them. She was disappointed to hear that Ben wasn't there, but maybe they could find out where he was.

  As Elizabeth ushered them into the apartment, she was impressed by the designer décor and the stunning views. "This is beautiful."

  "We fell in love with it as soon as we saw it." Elizabeth led them into the living room, and they sat down on two adjacent couches. "When Ben moved here for school, we knew we'd be visiting him fairly often. And then Neil took a job at Everly for the year, so it made sense to have a home here."

  "Is Ben going to move back to Bezikstan after he graduates? He must be getting close," she said, trying to ease her way into a conversation about Ben.

  "He probably has another year. I'm not sure what he's going to do," Elizabeth said. "I'm really glad you're all right, Parisa. You must have been terrified when the kidnappers came in and grabbed Jasmine."

  "It all happened so fast, and the fumes were disorienting. I didn't really know what was happening," she said, realizing that Jared had taken her hand again when they sat down. It seemed awkward to pull away now that they were seated so close to Elizabeth.

  "You were lucky. We heard the security guards didn't make it."

  "I was very fortunate," she agreed.

  "Did you see who took Jasmine?"

  "I didn't. I was barely conscious."

  "That's what Kenisha said. She told me a ransom demand came in yesterday. It's for a lot of money, but hopefully the Larimers will pay it. Kenisha can barely breathe, waiting for tomorrow morning. She's terrified that even if the Larimers pay the money that Jasmine won't be traded back. What do you think?"

  "I don't know. I'm worried, too."

  "Why do such horrific things have to happen? When we were evacuated from the party, and I saw the ambulances pulling up in front of the consulate, it reminded me of that night in Bezikstan when the embassy was overtaken. I wasn't with Neil when he went to help all of you, of course, but I could see the chaos from my windows. I was so worried for my friends, and I felt helpless, just as I did Friday night." She drew in a breath. "I'm sorry. I'm rambling on. Tell me what you've been doing, Parisa?"

  "I'm a translator with the state department."

  "You were always Neil's star student in his language class. He said you were a natural." She paused, her gaze swinging to Jared. "What do you do, Mr. MacIntyre?"

  "I'm a journalist."

  "How long have the two of you been together?"

  Jared gave her a smile. "It feels like five minutes, doesn't it, honey?"

  "Yes, it does," she said, knowing that despite the very serious circumstances, Jared was enjoying their roles.

  "But it's been almost a year," Jared added, as he turned toward Elizabeth. "When I saw Parisa, I fell hard. She was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. I could barely speak."

  Parisa felt her cheeks warm at his compliment. He was putting on an act, but still, it was nice to hear.

  "Parisa has always been a beauty, like her mother. How did you meet?"

  "Do you want me to tell the story?" Jared asked her.

  "Sure," she said, curious to hear what he would say.

  "It was raining, and we were both running for the same taxi. Our hands actually came down on the car door handle at the same time. It was like an electric shock ran through me," Jared told Elizabeth. "Our eyes met, and I thought to myself, where on earth did this stunning woman come from?"

  "I think you were more likely wondering how you were going to get me to take a different taxi," she interjected.

  He smiled at her. "Not at all. I wanted to get to know you." He glanced back at Elizabeth. "I told her we'd share the taxi. We got into the backseat, dripping wet, and icy cold, but there was so much heat in the car—"

  "Jared," she protested, not sure how far he was going to go with the story.

  "Don't worry," he said with a laugh. "I'm not going to elaborate. We got lucky enough to be stuck in traffic for almost a half hour, and during that time I convinced Parisa to meet me for dinner that night. The rest is history."

  Hearing Jared's tale made her realize how good he was at making up a story on the spot, much like she had been when she'd told Neil about the book of poetry Jasmine had wanted her to give to Ben. How ironic that she would feel so connected to a man who was as good a liar as she was.

  "That's so romantic," Elizabeth said. "It's just like one of those romantic comedies I used to act in. And not at all what I would have expected with Parisa. She was always such a cautious, look-before-you-leap, analyze-every-possible-scenario, make-a-pro-and-con-list kind of girl."

  He raised an eyebrow as he glanced at her. "You've definitely changed, sweetheart."

  "I was a teenager when Elizabeth knew me."

  "That's true," Elizabeth said. "You're an adult now, and I'm sure I don't know you at all."

  "Speaking of children growing up, I was hoping to speak to Ben."

  "Yes." Elizabeth frowned. "Neil said that Jasmine gave you a book, and she wanted Ben to have it, but I don't understand. She didn't know she was going to be kidnapped, so how could she leave you something to give to my son?"

  "She was showing me a book of poetry when the fumes came into the room." Parisa reached into the tote bag she'd bought at the bookstore and pulled out the volume
of poems that were all about heartbreak. "She said that Ben was heartsick about a girl he was seeing in Paris, and she thought this might help him. She wrote a note to Ben that she thought would encourage him. I was looking at it when the air in the room got bad, and somehow, I hung on to it through everything. Every time I look at it, I feel like I kept it for a reason—Ben needs to have it."

  "I can give it to him when he gets back."

  "I'd really like to do that myself. When will he be home?"

  "I don't know. He's having a difficult time dealing with Jasmine's kidnapping. The two of them have become very close. He went to stay with friends."

  "Do you know anything about this girl he was seeing in Paris?"

  "He hasn't talked to me about her, but I heard him on the phone with Jasmine, and he said the name Sara. He dated a girl named Sara when he was sixteen. I'm pretty sure it's the same girl. Judging from what I overheard, they reconnected in Paris, but things didn't end well. When he came home early from his study program, I was relieved, because there had been an explosion in the city, not far from his hotel, and I didn't like him being so far away from me." She let out a breath. "Not that there's any place that's really safe anymore."

  "That's true," she murmured.

  "Since he returned, Ben has been depressed. I thought the engagement party would take his mind off things. He adores Jasmine. He was so upset, he tore his room apart, broke a lamp, almost broke a few fingers hitting the wall with his fist. Neil told me not to worry, that he was just blowing off steam, but I'm his mother—how can I not worry?"

  Hearing Elizabeth talk about Ben's reaction to Jasmine's kidnapping brought forth mixed emotions. Was Ben just torn up about his good friend being abducted, or was he somehow a part of it, maybe even a reluctant participant?

  "Do you have Ben's number?" she asked. "I'd really like to text him, see if we could meet up, so I could give him the book, and maybe my telling him what Jasmine said to me would make him feel better."

  "I guess that would be all right," Elizabeth said slowly. "Maybe it would give him a reason to come home." She stood up. "Let me get my phone. Ben just got a new number, and I don't have it memorized."

  As Elizabeth left the room, Parisa glanced at Jared. "What do you think?"

  "I'm not sure. I don't think she knows much of anything."

  "I don't, either. But her motherly instinct has her worrying about her son. She knows something is off with him. And so do we." She pulled her hand away from Jared's. "By the way, that was quite a story you told her about our first meeting. Did you just pull that out of your hat? Or did it happen with some other woman?"

  "What do you think?"

  "That you made it up on the spot."

  "Have you ever done Improv?"

  "I have not," she said. "Have you?"

  "I took a class in it. It's all about saying yes, going with whatever the prompt is. You'd be good at it."

  "Maybe." She crossed her legs, then uncrossed them, a bad feeling running through her. "It's taking her a long time to find her phone."

  Jared stood up. "Too long. Clearly, Elizabeth has tremendous love for her son. She could be contacting him right now, warning him not to talk to you."

  "Why would she be afraid of me?"

  "You asked a lot of questions about Ben. Maybe you ran an alarm bell by your sudden interest in him and determination to speak to him."

  She rose, feeling edgy herself. She was starting to trust Jared's instincts as much as her own. Making a sudden decision, she walked out of the living room and down the hall.

  Fourteen

  Elizabeth was in her bedroom, speaking in low, urgent tones in Hindi. Parisa held up her hand to Jared, who had followed her down the hall, motioning for him to wait.

  "Parisa is here and she's asking for you," Elizabeth said. "She wants your phone number. She has a book that Jasmine wanted to give you. She won't leave it with me. I don't know what it's about. She said it's to heal your broken heart. She's acting oddly." Elizabeth paused. "She said she doesn't remember anything about the kidnapping. She didn't see the men who entered the room."

  Parisa looked at Jared with a frown. "She's talking about me," she whispered. "About the book and the kidnapping."

  She moved closer to the door, as Elizabeth said, "I don't like this, Ben. I'm worried. You have to tell me what's going on, so I can help you. Why don't you come home? What do you mean—you can't? I don't understand." She took a breath. "I don't know where your father went. Yes, yes, I know he sometimes doesn't understand you, but he's your father. He loves you." She paused to listen once more, then added, "Please, come home, Ben. Whatever is wrong, we can fix it."

  "I've heard enough," Parisa told Jared, then pushed open the bedroom door and stepped into the room.

  Elizabeth jumped, a guilty look on her face.

  "Let me talk to Ben," Parisa said.

  "This isn't Ben."

  "Yes, it is. I heard you talking, and I'm still fluent in Hindi."

  Judging by the expression on Elizabeth's face, the older woman had forgotten that.

  "He hung up," Elizabeth said.

  "You hung up," she told her, having seen Elizabeth push the button on her phone. "Why? What are you and Ben hiding? Does Ben have something to do with Jasmine's kidnapping?"

  "No, God, no! How could you ask that?" Elizabeth demanded, but there was fear behind her vehement denial.

  "Because you just told him I don't remember anything about the men who kidnapped Jasmine."

  "He was wondering if you'd given the police any helpful information. That's all."

  "Give me your phone. I want to talk to him."

  "No." Elizabeth put the phone behind her back. "You need to stop ordering me around, Parisa. I don't know who you think you are, but you must leave—now."

  "I'm not leaving, Elizabeth. Someone tried to kill me Friday night and again a few hours later. Jasmine is missing, and I believe your son has information on that."

  "What? No, he doesn't know anything about it."

  "Then why is he hiding out somewhere? Why won't he come home?"

  "He's just upset."

  "I know you're trying to protect your son, but telling the truth is the best way you can help him. I'm not going to be the only one looking for Ben, Elizabeth. If I go to the police with my suspicions—"

  "What suspicions? What did Jasmine tell you?"

  At the question, Parisa wondered if Ben had told Jasmine something about the Paris attack. Deciding to improvise, she said, "Jasmine told me that Ben was in trouble, that something bad had happened in Paris, and it wasn't just about a failed romance. She told him he needed to talk to the police, to tell them what he knew, that he might be able to save lives. I'm fairly certain she was speaking about that bomb that went off."

  The blood drained from Elizabeth's face. "That's not true. Ben couldn't have had anything to do with that."

  "But he knows someone who did—his girlfriend."

  Elizabeth started shaking her head. "Please leave. I don't know why you're trying to hurt me, Parisa. Neil saved your life as a teenager. How can you come at our family like this?"

  "I'm trying to help Ben. He's in trouble. He's afraid. And the longer he's out in this city alone, the more danger he could be in."

  "You think Jasmine was kidnapped because of something Ben did? That's impossible."

  Despite her defensive words, it was clear Elizabeth had doubts.

  "You're thinking the same thing," she told her. "I know you are. That's why you're worried. You need to tell me where Ben is, or I'll pass my suspicions along to the FBI. They won't take your silence for an answer, and Ben will end up in a lot more trouble."

  Elizabeth grabbed the chain around her neck and ran it nervously back and forth between her fingers. "Ben said some people are threatening to kill him and us. He needs to hide. I promised to get him some money."

  "What people—Jasmine's kidnappers?"

  "I don't know…maybe."

  "Does Ne
il know about this threat?"

  "Yes. He spoke to Ben early this morning, and he left in a fury an hour ago. He said he had to get some air. I don't know where he went. He didn't go to Ben. Ben was afraid to tell him where he was."

  "But he told you, so you could get him some money, and he could disappear."

  "He's a victim in all this. I know my son. He's not a bad person."

  "Where is he, Elizabeth?" she pressed.

  "You'll hurt him."

  "I won't. I'll try to help him."

  "How can you help him?"

  "My stepfather still has connections in law enforcement," she lied. "I know he'll use those if Ben will come clean. It's his only chance. You know that." She was pulling out all the stops, probably destroying whatever relationship she'd ever had with the Langdons, but she had no other choice. Clearly, Ben knew something.

  "You really believe Harry will help Ben?"

  "I know he will. You have to trust someone."

  "I haven't seen you in years, Parisa."

  "Fine. I'll just call the police. I'll be honest, I came here this morning not just because of the book of poetry, but because of the concern Jasmine expressed about Ben. Jasmine loves your son as much as you do."

  "Which is why he would never hurt her."

  "I believe that, but we both know he's caught up in something, and if people are threatening to kill him and you and Neil that you can't handle this by yourself."

  "I don't know what to do?" she said helplessly.

  She looked Elizabeth in the eye. "Talk to me. Tell me where he is."

  "Ben said he was going to go to the men's homeless shelter run by Sacred Cross. It's by the convention center. He thinks he can blend in and stay hidden until the kidnappers are found. Then he swears he'll go to the authorities and tell them what he knows. He just wants to stay safe until they're caught."

  "Thank you."

  As they turned to leave, Jared put in a parting remark. "If you're sending us on a wild-goose chase, you'll regret it," he told Elizabeth. "Not just because you may end up in jail on obstruction of justice charges, but you might end up dead. The people who kidnapped Jasmine are playing for keeps. They've already killed two men."