Finally Kopp spoke. "Look, my son's going to his mom's after school tomorrow. He'll be gone all weekend. Why don't I come up there?"
"I just need an hour of your time." The last thing Nate needed was Kopp hanging around, scaring Marisa. "I hate for you to drive all the way up here."
"It'll give me something to do. And it'll take us more than an hour, if you really want to learn anything."
"I could meet you in Boston."
"I'm happy to come to you."
How could Nate refuse? He dug deep, trying to find an excuse, but whatever he said at this point, Kopp would take as confirmation that Marisa was nearby. "Great. I'm in a little town called Nutfield."
"Never heard of it."
"There's a restaurant in town called McNeal's. What time can you be there?"
"I drop my son off at eight-thirty. About how long will it take me?"
"Five hours, give or take."
"Fine. Two o'clock. See you then."
THE LUNCH CROWD HAD mostly headed home or back to work by the time Nate got to McNeal's the following afternoon. The remodeled restaurant smelled of today's special—corned beef and sauerkraut. He asked for a booth near the back.
The TVs over the bar displayed college basketball, and the hum of one of the games played over the speaker.
He'd just given his drink order to the waitress—her name tag read Bonnie—when Sam walked in. She pointed to the table she wanted, the one adjacent to his.
She smiled when she walked by and slid into the booth right behind where Kopp would sit. Nate didn't get up. "You don't need to be here."
She didn't turn when she answered. "I'm here for Marisa. She wants to know what's going on."
That made sense.
Sam pulled out her laptop. Apparently she planned to work—or maybe email updates to Rae and Marisa—as she eavesdropped.
He didn't like having an audience, but Sam was probably right—and the rest of them, too. Kopp's insistence on coming to New Hampshire was suspicious.
So Nate pretended she wasn't there and checked his watch and watched the door.
Garrison Kopp stepped inside like he owned the place. He was a few inches north of six feet tall. He'd worn a crew cut when Nate had last met him, but now his light brown hair had grown out a little. Very little.
He stood straight, hands in fists at his side, and within a second of walking in, his gaze landed on Nate. He said something to the hostess, who giggled and blushed. She didn't take her eyes off Kopp as he approached Nate's table, whispering to the waitress who stood beside her.
"You found it okay," Nate said.
"Can't hide anything from the FBI."
There was that sense of humor again. Nate hadn't remembered that from his last encounters with Kopp. "Former FBI," he corrected.
Kopp slid into the booth across from him, hiding Nate's view of Sam. She hadn't even looked up when the guy walked in. Town clerk turned James Bond.
The waitress approached, slid Nate’s drink on the table, and set a menu in front of Kopp. "What can I get you to drink?"
"Just water." His fingers tapped the menu. "You have a Reuben?"
"Best in the world."
"I'll take that and french fries."
"Good choice." She looked at Nate. "How 'bout you."
"I'm good with my drink, thanks."
She took their menus and stopped at Sam's table.
Nate had brought all the notes he and his friends had compiled the previous day. He opened the file on the table. “Here’s what I have. I guess all your information is stored in your head."
"Yup."
"So, where shall we start?"
Kopp leaned forward. "Why don't you tell me where Marisa Vega is."
Nate set his pen down. "I told you, I have no idea. She called me and told me what happened with her sister and her daughter. I agreed to try to help her."
Kopp rested his arms on the table between them. He folded his hands and leaned back. He didn't say a word.
Nate had used a similar tactic a thousand times on people he'd interviewed. Keep silent, get them talking. He smiled and sipped his Coke.
A minute passed before Kopp said, "You know I'm way ahead of you, right?"
"You don't seem that quick to me."
Kopp cracked a smile and leaned forward. "How was Mexico?"
Nate and Brady had talked about this, but Nate hadn't taken the threat that seriously. What were the chances that Kopp would check flight records, especially if he wasn't still in the Bureau? Apparently, very good.
"A little hot for my taste," Nate said.
"And Marisa? Was she a little hot, too?"
Nate tamped down a flash of irritation. Kopp was trying to throw him off-guard, and Nate couldn't let him. "I haven't seen her."
Kopp nodded slowly.
Bonnie returned with his drink and a fresh Coke for Nate. Kopp thanked her while Nate's brain spun. If Kopp knew Nate had gone to Mexico, what else did he know? Probably way more than Nate had bargained for. Had Kopp come to New Hampshire in hopes of finding Marisa? One last collar, for old time's sake?
Nate had to keep the focus on Ana. "Her daughter and her sister were kidnapped. She can't turn herself in, and she can't get caught."
"The kidnappers know where she is?"
Nate shook his head.
"I'm not a cop anymore. You can tell me."
"So you can arrest her?"
"If she didn't do anything wrong, what are you afraid of?"
An idea popped into Nate's mind. He tried to come up with a better one. Nothing. He slipped his iPhone out of his pocket and tapped the photos app. A photograph filled his screen. "I saw Marisa and her daughter in Mexico, because she needed my help." He handed Kopp the phone.
Kopp studied it.
"That's Ana. She's four years old. She was an orphan, dumped at the orphanage where Marisa teaches English to the kids. Marisa fell in love with her and began adoption procedures almost immediately."
Kopp scrolled through the photographs. Rude, but Nate didn't say anything. There were photos of Marisa and Leslie on there. At this point, the biggest priority was getting Ana and Leslie back. Nate would worry about getting rid of the photos of Marisa later.
Kopp paused on a photo and angled the phone to Nate. He'd stopped on a close-up of Marisa.
"She looks good."
"This isn't about Marisa," Nate said. "It's about Ana and Leslie. They've been kidnapped. We need your help to get them back."
"I heard you the first time."
Nate held out his hand for his phone. Kopp slipped it in his pocket.
"That's mine."
"I don't want you to warn her."
Nate thought of Sam sitting behind Kopp, furiously typing on her laptop. With luck, Marisa had already been warned.
"I do have more information," Kopp said. "I kept working the case for months after you printed your stories and moved on."
"What can you tell me?"
Kopp leaned back and crossed his arms. "Nothing until I see her."
Nate folded his file and stood. "I guess we're done here. My phone please."
"I don't even have my sandwich." Kopp nodded to the waitress, who was walking toward them across the nearly empty restaurant.
Nate stepped out of the way so the waitress could serve Kopp.
"What else can I get you?" she asked.
"This is perfect. Thanks."
Nate just stood there, feeling stupid.
"Sit down." Kopp tapped some ketchup on his plate before he took a bite of the sandwich. "Wow, that's delicious."
Reluctantly, Nate slid back into the booth. "Not a sauerkraut man myself."
"You don't know what you're missing." Kopp wiped his fingers on a napkin.
"I can't tell you where she is," Nate said.
"Hmm. Looks like I'm going to have to arrest you."
While Kopp dipped a french fry in the ketchup, Nate's stomach dipped to the floor. He'd planned for a lot of contingencies
, but this one hadn't even entered his mind. "Arrest me for what?"
Kopp popped the fry in his mouth. "You want some? They're really good."
"Not hungry."
"Suit yourself." Kopp ate another fry.
"How can you arrest me? You're retired."
"I just need to make a call, and we can get someone over here straight away to take care of that. You ever been arrested?"
"Haven't had the pleasure."
Kopp bit the sandwich and took his time swallowing.
Nate's heartbeat was racing. He had no idea what to do here.
"You tell me this is your hometown?" Kopp asked.
Nate imagined how it would feel to be perp-walked out of McNeal's into downtown Nutfield. Enough people knew him as the eldest son of Gordon Boyle, Attorney-at-Law, that it would no doubt create a spectacle. Heck, Nutfield was a quiet tourist town. Anybody getting arrested created a spectacle.
Nate shook off the images. Whatever he had to do to protect Marisa. "Look, I thought you came here to help me. If you're just here to make idle threats—"
"Not idle. I know you and Marisa flew into Logan yesterday. I haven't alerted my old friends at the Bureau yet, but—"
"Why not?"
Kopp shrugged. "I don't think she stole the money. And I don't want to get that little girl—or the sister—killed."
A surge of hope. "Then help me! You said—"
"Not until I see her. Fact is, the Bureau is good at hostage negotiation. They'll probably have a lot better luck saving her sister and her kid than you will. But it's not your decision to make. It's hers."
Maybe Kopp did think Marisa innocent. Maybe he would help them. But maybe those were just more lies to get Nate to give up her location. He wouldn't give Marisa up for anything. They'd just have to find another way to get Leslie and Ana back. Nate blew out a frustrated breath. "Forget it."
"You don't have a lot of choices here, man."
Man. Like they were friends.
"I'm trying to help," Kopp said.
"Fine. Give me my phone and let me make a call."
Nate hoped to at least get his phone back long enough to destroy it. Dropping it in his fresh Coke should do the trick. He wasn't sure what else was on the iPhone, but the updated photograph of Marisa alone would be a good first step to getting her caught.
"Don't think so."
"You're really going to do this? Put two people's lives in danger?"
Kopp tilted his head to the side. "You're really going to go to prison to protect a fugitive?"
"She's not guilty." His voice had been loud enough the hostess turned in their direction. He lowered it. "And I'm not going to prison."
"It's a gamble. You may, you may not."
"I thought you feds were supposed to protect the weak."
Kopp leaned forward. "I already told you, I don't think she's guilty. I have my suspicions about who took the money, but I never thought it was her."
"Could've fooled me."
"I know you don't believe me, but I'm trying to help you."
"So help."
"I need to see her."
"Why?"
Kopp took another bite of his sandwich. Nate had the irrational urge to toss the plate across the room like a Frisbee. Instead, he kept his hands still and waited.
"You tell me her daughter and sister have been kidnapped. But for all I know, she's the one in danger—from you. You knew everything everybody else knew. Maybe you're behind all of this."
"You're crazy."
"You just quit your job, right? Sold your house?"
"How did you—?"
"Not a state secret, man." He sipped his water. "So all of a sudden, you don't need a job? Found a way to make money on the side? Like by kidnapping for ransom."
"I didn't take them. Are you insane?"
Not only did the waitress and the hostess look that time, but Sam turned around and glared at him. Nate looked at the table. It was over, and there was nothing Nate could do. At least Marisa wouldn't have to wonder what happened to him. Sam was there, reporting everything.
A familiar feeling of hopelessness washed over Nate as he stood. He held his hands out in front of him, wrists together. "Go ahead. Arrest me."
Kopp took another bite of his Reuben while Nate stood beside their table. He dropped his hands to his sides. He could run, but the only thing worse than getting led out of McNeal's in handcuffs on a Tuesday afternoon in front of God and everybody would be to do it after being tackled attempting to flee.
Sam had turned back around, but he could see her shaking her head violently. He could imagine what had happened. Sam had messaged Marisa, and Marisa didn't want him to get arrested. Unfortunately, Nate didn't see any other options.
Kopp wiped his mouth with his napkin. "Why don't you see what your friend thinks before we do this?"
"What friend?"
Kopp slid to the end of his seat and looked up at him with raised eyebrows. Nate sidestepped, and Kopp stood and turned to Sam.
Her eyes registered shock—and something else that had Nate rolling his eyes.
Okay, fine. Kopp might be considered attractive in some circles. Female circles, mostly. Based on her reaction, definitely in Sam's circle.
"Your voice sounded older," she said.
Right. Flirt with him, Sam. That'll help.
Kopp smiled and held out his hand to shake. "Garrison Kopp."
She took it and shook. "Samantha Messenger." Was she blushing?
Nate blew out a breath loudly. "Are you two done?"
They ignored him. "What does Marisa want to do?" Kopp asked.
Sam glanced at Nate before she answered. "She doesn't want Nate arrested. He's trying to help her."
"Do you think she can trust me?"
Sam swallowed. "Let me ask her." She turned to type on her laptop while Kopp turned back to Nate. "Sit down."
This meeting had spun so far out of Nate's control he almost laughed as he slid back into the booth. Kopp sat and slid to the inside end of the booth. When Sam turned to speak, he patted the space beside him. "Why don't you join us?"
She gathered her laptop and her bag and slid in beside Kopp. "I asked her. I'm waiting for a reply."
"Good. You want some fries?"
Sam smiled and took one off his plate. "Thanks."
Kopp met Nate's eyes. "Seriously, man. Help yourself."
Nate just sipped his soda and waited.
A moment later, Sam's MacBook dinged. She read the message and looked at Nate. "She said to trust him. She wants you to take him to the cabin."
Well, at least Nate wasn't getting arrested today. He hoped he could say the same about Marisa.
Chapter 10
MARISA PACED BEHIND the sofa. Her eyes were scratchy from lack of sleep, her muscles achy. The night before, the soft mattress had wrapped her in luxury while her thoughts had wrapped her in dread.
How was she supposed to sleep without her daughter by her side?
Would Marisa even be able to keep Ana? She hadn't considered the danger when she'd decided to adopt the newborn. At the time, Marisa had thought she'd spend the rest of her life in Mexico. Oh, sure, she'd hoped to come home, but not as a fugitive. And now... Would Ana have a mother in prison, or would the adoption fall through entirely?
Assuming Ana survived.
Rae stepped through the front door, little Johnny on her hip. Marisa had tried not to cry—and failed—when she'd first seen the seven-month-old. He smiled and cooed, his dark hair and skin so like Ana's. Marisa physically ached for her child. How could she survive if she didn't get Ana back?
Now, Johnny was desperately trying to grab the phone from his mother, who held it to her ear. "Okay, I'll tell her." She paused. "Love you, too."
She ended the call and slid the phone into her pocket. "Brady's headed this way."
Marisa stopped. "No. We don't need to pull him into this. He could lose his job. And you should go, too. You don't need the trouble."
Johnny squealed and squirmed, and Rae set him on the floor. He immediately crawled away. Marisa could remember when Ana had been that age, just itching to walk, to run, to explore her world. Marisa had been terrified every minute, more in Mexico than she would have been in a safe place like this. Mexico had never seemed as dirty as when Ana was sticking everything in her mouth.
Where was that sweet girl now? What kind of environment had the kidnappers taken her and Leslie to? Was it clean? Were they feeding her?
Eat your eggs. She'd said it every day, hoping her daughter would grow up strong and healthy.
Now she just wanted her to grow up.
"We're not going anywhere," Rae said.
Marisa had to blink to return to the conversation, the room.
"Kopp doesn't know we know you're a fugitive," Rae continued.
"Do you think I'm doing the right thing?"
Rae watched Johnny as he tried to pull himself up at the coffee table. The pause told Marisa she was taking the question seriously, which Marisa appreciated. Finally, Rae said, "I don't know how Nate getting arrested would help anything. Brady was right about that—it would just put the authorities onto the fact that you were in the country, and Kopp already knows that. Nate wouldn't give you up."
"I always trusted him."
"But the police would be looking for you everywhere. You'd have to flee, and how could you figure out who stole the money on your own?"
"But what if Kopp arrests me? What if the people who took Ana...?"
Rae wrapped her arms around Marisa and pulled her into a hug.
Marisa barely knew the woman, but Rae's arms felt like a lifeline in a stormy sea. Rae patted Marisa's back. "Brady knows what he's doing. You have to trust him. And Nate."
Marisa stepped away. "And the federal agent who wants to arrest me?" Marisa started pacing again. "I don't even care at this point. I just want Ana and Leslie safe."
"I know. Why don't you sit?"
The sound of tires on gravel sent Marisa to peer out the window. Nate parked Brady's blue truck in the short driveway, and he and Sam stepped out. A black sedan stopped on the narrow road in front of the cabin.
Marisa had the overwhelming urge to bolt. She turned, spied the back door. Right, and then what? Jump in the lake?
She stepped back and stood between the breakfast bar and the sofa. Rae picked up Johnny and joined her.
Twisted Lies Page 12
