"I know. I'm terrified. Neither of you might believe this, but I really do want Jasmine to be all right. She's my best friend's daughter. I just want to protect my son, too."
"Sometimes, you can't protect people from themselves," Jared told her.
Elizabeth sat down on her bed as tears streamed out of her eyes. "Will you at least try to protect him, Parisa?"
"Yes." Parisa felt compassion for Elizabeth, but she was also angry that Elizabeth had been sitting on information that could save Jasmine's life. "Don't call him, Elizabeth. Don't tell him to run. It won't work. He can't outrun this. He needs help, and I'm his best hope."
"You will remember that Neil saved your life?" Elizabeth asked.
"I could never forget that," she promised.
They headed out of the bedroom and down the hall, letting themselves out of the apartment.
"Do you think she's telling us the truth?" Jared asked, as they took the elevator downstairs.
"I hope so," she said grimly. "But I don't know. Maternal love…it can be pretty damn strong."
When they got into the car, she looked up the address for the shelter, which was near the Javits Convention Center, as Elizabeth had said. She gave Jared directions as he started the engine.
He was all business now—no teasing smile, no sexy humor. He was focused on the job. And that focus made her question again just what it was about the Paris bombing that was so personal to him.
Something else he'd said to Elizabeth had puzzled her. "You told Elizabeth that you can't protect some people from themselves."
"Yeah, so?"
"It felt like you had some experience with that."
He met her gaze for a quick moment, and there was an odd bleakness in his eyes. "I have. It didn't end well."
"Will you tell me about it?"
"Let's focus on finding Ben. Nothing else matters right now."
She couldn't argue with that, but his words only made her more curious and reminded her that while Jared might have shared some personal data about himself, there was still a lot he was holding back.
* * *
Parisa's question triggered some unwelcome memories, and Jared shoved them ruthlessly out of his mind. He didn't want to think about the past right now; there was too much going on. They had their first big break. There was a tie between Ben and the kidnappers. At least, he thought there was. Ben could just be in hiding because of what he'd done in Paris, but since he hadn't been hiding until Jasmine disappeared, his behavior seemed tied to her kidnapping.
He'd been right about Parisa being a valuable asset. She had used her relationship with the Langdons, her debt to Neil, as a way to get Elizabeth to trust her, and it had worked. She had probably destroyed her relationship with the family, but she was determined to save Jasmine, no matter the cost.
"Do you think I should call the FBI?" Parisa asked, interrupting his thoughts. "Ben could have information that will lead us to Jasmine. Should I be sitting on it?"
"Let's find Ben first. See what he knows—get him to talk to us before he calls for a lawyer, or he tries to run. You have the best shot of getting the truth out of him than anyone."
"He might already be running. There's no guarantee Elizabeth won't tell him to do just that."
"I think you convinced her that you're the best chance Ben has at getting a fair hearing. You were very persuasive. You brought in your stepfather, your debt to Neil, pushing all the right buttons."
"Even though they were mostly lies. Harry would never defend Ben if he's truly guilty. But time is ticking away. I did what I had to do. Ben knows something about the kidnapping. If his life is truly being threatened, then he's involved in that at least, maybe Paris, too." She drew in a breath. "But I think he's a side player at best. That's why he's scared, why he's alone."
"I'd agree with that."
"We'll wait to call the authorities until after we locate Ben."
"That won't be long now. We're almost there."
The shelter was two blocks away from the convention center, tucked in between a mix of warehouses, convenience stores, fast-food restaurants, and retail establishments.
Jared parked the car on the first floor of a three-story parking garage about a quarter mile from the shelter. Since it was Sunday, and there were apparently no conventions in town, there was plenty of parking. He took out his gun and put it in the glove box. He might have to pass through a metal detector at the shelter, but Parisa would be armed if they ran into trouble on their way to and from the shelter.
"It's warmer today," she commented, as they walked out of the garage. "With the sun out, it's almost easy to believe spring is not that far away."
"Only about three months," he said dryly. "But I'll take a nice day any time."
"Me, too. I'm a sunshine girl. I always feel better when the sun is out."
He smiled as she lifted her face to that same sun. "There's something to be said for a winter night with a blazing fire and a hot drink."
She smiled back at him. "Sure. That's nice, too. I guess you prefer the cold."
"I like living where the seasons change. Anything gets old after a while."
"Is that why you move around?"
"How do you know I move around?" he countered.
"Good point," she said dryly. "Let's talk about how we're going to approach Ben."
"This one is on me. It's a men's shelter. You won't be going in."
She frowned, not looking at all happy about that. "I don't think Ben will talk to you."
"He doesn’t have to speak to me. I'll get him out of the shelter. Then you can work your magic."
"You think you can do that?"
"Wrangle one scared twenty-one-year-old out of a homeless shelter? Yeah, I think I can do that."
"I hope you can back up your confidence, Jared."
"I can."
She caught him by the arm as they neared the shelter. "Hold on one second."
"What's wrong?" he asked, noting a serious gleam in her eyes.
"I know you have your own questions for Ben, but that bomb went off weeks ago, and Jasmine is missing now. She has to take precedence over Paris. Promise me you'll bring Ben out, so we can get the information on Jasmine before you start interrogating him on the explosion."
"I already agreed that Jasmine is the priority."
"Good. I just wanted to make sure we're on the same page."
He glanced down the block, seeing throngs of homeless men gathered outside the shelter. "I don't like the idea of you hanging around the street. Why don't you get a drink in the restaurant next door, and I'll meet you there?"
"All right. Don't be long."
He waited until Parisa was in the restaurant before walking into the shelter.
A man sat behind a counter, tapping on a computer keyboard, while he spoke into the phone resting between his head and shoulder. He appeared to be in his forties and wore a T-shirt with an inspirational quote about finding salvation.
Jared waited until he finished with the call. Then he said, "I hope you can help me. I'm looking for my younger brother." He pulled out his phone. He'd been carrying around a photo of Ben for the past few weeks, and he showed it to the clerk. "His name is Ben, but I'm not sure what he's calling himself today. He's bipolar and suffers from depression. He asked me for help and told me to come down here. My family is really worried about him. I hope he's here."
The older man took a look at the picture. "Yeah, he's here. Came in this morning. Looked like he was coming off a big high, shaking and muttering to himself."
"He sometimes loses track of reality. He doesn't remember where he is or how he got there. Sometimes, he doesn't even remember my name. It breaks my heart."
"Yeah, I know how that goes. My dad is the same way. He's in the gym. I told him he could stay twenty-four hours, then we have to fill out paperwork. Empty your pockets before you walk through the metal detector."
He put his wallet and car keys in a small container and then walked throu
gh the detector. The man passed him his belongings, and he moved into the gym.
The large room was filled with cots placed about four feet apart. It was a sea of humanity and the stench was fairly overwhelming. There were probably thirty people in the room. He suspected all the beds would be full come nighttime.
Some of the men were sleeping, a couple of groups were playing cards on the floor between their cots, and a few were reading.
His gaze swept the room until he saw a solitary figure sitting cross-legged on a bed by the wall. He had earbuds on and was looking at his phone, as most kids his age did.
Ben had dark hair like his mother and wore jeans, and a hoodie sweatshirt with Everly stamped across it. Jared felt a wave of relief that Elizabeth had not warned Ben that they were coming.
Fortunately, there was no one particularly close to Ben, which would make conversation easier.
He sat down on the cot next to him and leaned forward. "Ben."
The kid's head jerked, and he pulled the headphones out of his ears, looking suddenly terrified.
"Don't move," he ordered, sensing that Ben was about to run. "Your mother sent me to get you."
"No, she didn't," Ben replied, but he looked a bit uncertain.
"She did. She said you need money and a place to stay. I'm going to provide both."
"Who are you?"
"That's not important. She also told me that you're involved in Jasmine's kidnapping."
Ben's eyes widened. "I can't believe she said that. She's lying. I didn't have anything to do with it. Jasmine was—is—my friend."
He wondered if the stumble meant Ben knew more than anyone else about Jasmine's current condition.
"Your mother is scared. You need to come with me."
Ben vehemently shook his head. "I'm not going anywhere with you. I don't know who you are."
"My name is Jared. We're going to get up and walk out the door. And then we'll go next door and order you some food."
Ben looked confused by his words. "What?"
"An old friend of yours will meet us there. She also wants to help you. Her name is Parisa Maxwell. She was with your mom when your mother called you. So was I."
"Parisa won't help me. She'll hate me for what I did."
"Being involved in Jasmine's kidnapping is hateful behavior, but there is a way out for you, Ben. You can help us get Jasmine back. That will counter whatever you did." A hopeful gleam entered Ben's eyes, and Jared played off it. "You know Parisa is well connected. Her stepfather is friends with the president. She can use her power for your benefit, but you have to help us find Jasmine."
"I didn't know they were going to take Jasmine, I swear."
He wanted to ask who Ben was talking about—if Sara and Isaac were involved. He wanted to ask Ben where he was when the Paris bomb went off, when April died. The questions were right there on the tip of his tongue. But he'd made Parisa a promise—Jasmine first; everything else had to wait.
"Let's go," he said, getting to his feet.
Ben was starting to sweat, and there was more than a little terror in his eyes. "I can't trust you."
"Ben, if I wanted you dead, you'd be dead. I'm trying to save your sorry life. So, get up. And if you feel like shouting for help, remember that I'm not the one you're hiding from, the one who is threatening to kill you. That person is still out there, and right now I'm standing between him and you."
Ben looked unconvinced.
"If you can't trust me, trust Parisa. She used to babysit you. She taught you how to play spades. Your father saved her life. I'm not lying. She's next door. And your mother did send us."
"All right." Ben shoved his phone and earbuds into his pocket, grabbed his duffel and walked out of the shelter. Jared kept as close to him as he could, without looking suspicious.
When they hit the street, he grabbed Ben's arm just in case he decided to bolt and hauled him into the fast-food restaurant next door.
Parisa was waiting in a booth, facing the door. There were a dozen or so other people in the restaurant, but mostly families or men who looked like they'd come from the shelter next door. Relief filled her gaze when he shoved Ben into the seat across from her and then sat down next to him, so Ben was pinned in the booth.
"Ben," she said with relief. "What's going on? Tell me how you're involved in this."
"If I tell you, they'll kill me."
"I can protect you," Parisa said. "But you have to start talking now."
"I didn't know they were going to take Jasmine," Ben said. "I thought they just wanted the diamond."
"Who's they? Give me some names," she demanded.
Ben shifted as he looked around the restaurant. "Can you guys really protect me?"
"Jasmine's life is on the line, Ben," Parisa said. "You talk. I'll help. Do it now. Every second counts."
"I got into some trouble in Paris. I ran into a girl I used to know in Bezikstan, and we hooked up. I couldn't believe we were together again. I hadn't thought it would ever happen. But her stepbrother, he's not a good guy, and Sara told me that he was making her do things she didn't want to do."
"Like what?" Jared asked, unable to resist the question.
Parisa flashed him a quick look, then turned to Ben. "We'll get back to Paris, Ben. Let's talk about now. Was Jasmine taken by this group? Do you know where they're holding her?"
"Yes. They took her. I don't know where they are. All they wanted me to do was get two guys into the party. I just had to ask Jasmine to hire them as waitstaff. I told her they were friends of mine from Bezikstan and students at Everly, who needed to make some extra cash. I said I didn't know if they were really allowed to work because of their visa status, and she said as long as I vouched for them, she'd tell the kitchen manager to hire them for the party." Ben's gaze filled with anguish. "She trusted me."
"Have they been in touch with you since the kidnapping?" Parisa asked.
Ben shook his head. "No. And even though I don't know anything, I'm afraid they think I know too much."
Parisa tucked her hair behind her ear, her gaze intense as she looked across the table at Ben. "Who contacted you? Was it Sara? Her stepbrother? Someone else?"
"I don't know the person's name. The voice sounded like it was computer generated. He said they'd kill me and my family if I didn't do what they said. I was told that the waiters' names were Victor Salgetti and Ray Bateen, but I don't think those are their real names."
"Where would they stay here in New York?"
"I swear I don't know."
"But you know Sara is here, right?" Jared put in. "She arrived in New York Friday morning."
"No, she didn't. She couldn't get into the country. Everyone is looking for her."
"So, you know she's in hiding," Parisa said. "Where would she go if she came here? Does she have friends, family?"
"Her only family is her stepbrother. Everyone else is dead. But she's not here in the city. She can't be," Ben said in confusion.
"She is here. She used her roommate's passport, Melissa Holmes," Jared said.
"I don't know anything about that."
"Is Isaac here, too?"
"Maybe. Probably. I think he's the one who's setting me up. He knew I was connected to the Kumars, that I go to the consulate a lot. He has to be the one behind this."
"How did he use you, Ben?" Jared asked. "Is the group going to pin the Paris bombing on you?"
Ben's eyes widened. "What do you know about Paris?"
"Ben," Parisa said, drawing Ben's attention back to her. "We have to find Isaac. Did he talk about New York? Does he have friends here? Are there students at Everly involved in the group? We need a lead. It's the only way we're going to find Jasmine."
Ben drew in a breath and let it out. "The only place here that Isaac ever mentioned was a comedy club in Hell's Kitchen. It's called the Stone Cellar. He said his friend was a bartender there, so he used to get in for free. I don't know the guy's name."
"When did they contact you about
getting the men into the party?" Parisa asked.
"On Tuesday, three days before the party. I told Jasmine not to wear the ring. I told her it was too much. She said Westley was insistent, that she had to wear it. I suggested she put it on for the announcement and then take it off right away." He paused. "Look, can you give me some money? Can you help me get out of town? I'm really scared, Parisa. I never meant for any of this to happen. You have to believe me. I love Jasmine."
"I love her, too," Parisa said. "And I'm terrified for her—and for you. I don't think you're safe, Ben. You're a loose end that needs to be tied up. I'm going to do you a favor. I'm going to make sure you're protected." She lifted her gaze and looked toward the door.
Jared was shocked by her action and quickly turned his head as three men came through the door, wearing dark suits and badges at their belts. Parisa had called in the FBI.
"You tricked me," Ben exclaimed, as the men surrounded their table.
Jared's mouth drew into a tight line, feeling the same sense of betrayal.
Parisa had called the feds while he was in the shelter. What the hell had she been thinking? They'd had an agreement—a plan. They would question Ben first, and then they would turn him over.
Clearly, Parisa had had a different plan.
"The safest place for you is in custody," Parisa said to Ben as she slid out of the booth. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and handed it to the tall, dark-haired man with the blue eyes, who had driven her home from the hospital after the first attack, the same one who'd put her in the safe house, and probably the person she'd been in contact with the entire time.
"I recorded everything," Parisa told the agent. "He's all yours."
"Thanks," the man said shortly, giving him a sharp look.
Jared slid out of the booth, allowing the agents access to Ben.
Parisa gave him an apologetic look, but he wasn't interested in her apologies.
He'd made a big mistake playing this all her way. He'd let her get everything she needed before he'd gotten anything he needed. But it was too late to change that now.
He headed out the door, waiting outside until the agents brought Ben out and put him into a waiting black SUV.
Elusive Promise GO PL 2 Page 14
