| |
Days later, Tara’s excitement, the sheer joy of being told she was well enough to book a flight home, came to a rude and unexpected halt.
She stared at the six men making her room seem ridiculously small, her gaze tracking from one to the next in disbelief. “This can’t be happening. Jake? Stan? Somebody tell me it isn’t true.” No one seemed to notice she’d called Father Jacobsen, Jake.
“Interpol has become involved due to the number of countries entangled in this,” said the man in the dark suit. He held up a hand to tick off items with his fingers. “France, because the plane not only departed from here, but then turned back and landed at CDG. Britain, because the airline involved is British, the U.S., because the owner of the horse is American, and Canada, because you, Ms. Summers, are Canadian.”
“This whole thing is bullshit,” said Jake, leaving the police interpreter at an obvious loss for a translation. “She would never hurt a horse. Ever.”
The Interpol rep—whose name she had already forgotten—not only communicated in English as though it was his first language, but he seemed to be taking the lead, leaving the two local detectives and their interpreter to catch up. “Her fingerprints are on the syringe.”
“I wouldn’t have used a syringe unless the horse was so out of control he was putting the plane at risk. And I never have, never would, use the drug you say killed him.”
“It has to be a setup,” said Jake.
A clear evidence bag with a syringe inside, was passed to her. “This matches the ones found in your kit. How many did you have packed?”
“Ten empty, with ten separate needles. Plus, I keep two in a case on my belt. Fully loaded with tranquilizer. If a horse is thrashing and potentially threatening the skin of the aircraft, there’s no time to get out my travel kit, remove a syringe and a needle from their individual wrappers, take out the bottle of tranq, and load up. So I keep two five-cc guns ready for immediate emergency use.”
“Why two? Why not one that holds ten?”
“There are different scenarios. One, I’d try for a vein shot first—for the fastest possible effect. Doing so, there’s a high risk of it getting knocked out of my hand and probably landing on the floor of the stall. No way I’d go in after it. Instead, I’d use the second one, hit him in the muscle and pray for a quick reaction while working on calming him and making sure he stays restrained in the crate. In other cases, I’d start with the muscle shot, then try for the vein.”
He nodded. “So five ccs is the standard dose?”
“Definitely not. Normal is one or two. But if they’ve got adrenaline pumping, the effectiveness is greatly reduced, so I’ve been taught to overdose when in an aircraft.
He nodded. “Understood. The two on your belt were intact. Unused. But there were only nine in the other container. The tenth was used to kill the horse.”
All thought evaporated, leaving her at a complete loss for words, but Jake was quick to her defense. “Someone stole it, shot up the horse, and then tossed Tara into the stall with him.”
“I’m no hundred-pound weakling, and not so easy to toss.”
Interpol guy smirked. “We suspect you were incapacitated first. And we concur with Mr. Meyers—especially when considering the case he was working prior to coming here, one that included information shared by you, Ms. Yoste.”
He now turned his attention to Jake. “Meyers Security did their due diligence by contacting us before you boarded a plane bound for France under an assumed identity. We also agree with Meyers, and believe Ms. Yoste is still at risk—probably due to the nature of your investigation.”
Stan took a step closer and put a protective hand on her shoulder.
Jake backed away from the bed, slipped his phone from his pocket and glanced at the screen. Whatever he saw there made him frown.
“That should be information about your associates arriving,” said Interpol guy.
Surprised, Jake stared at him. “They’re landing within the hour. How did you know?”
“Who?” asked Stan, but the others didn’t seem to hear him.
“We’ve been in constant contact with Meyers, and due to your cover, we stipulated they not contact you today until we’d been able to talk to Ms. Yoste.” He consulted his watch. “We’ve made arrangements to use a conference room here in the hospital, and Tara’s doctors have given their permission for her to attend. All parties will meet there shortly.”
“Who?” Stan asked again.
“Everyone in this room and several of Mr. Meyers’s colleagues. We’ll work together to clear Tara’s name, and to find the perpetrators.”
Tara finally found her voice. “I’m being discharged tomorrow. They said I could go home. Stan’s been making arrangements for a flight.”
“You’ll need to stay in the country until this is resolved,” said Interpol guy. “Meyers has committed to your protection.”
Jake touched her hand. “We’ll provide a safe place for you to stay until you’ve been cleared.”
Interpol guy was at the door. “This meeting will resume at seventeen hundred on the fourth floor, room four-two-two.” He waved for the detectives and their interpreter to follow him out.
Jake’s shoulder muscles loosened ever so slightly when law enforcement left the room. He’d been blindsided. Left in the dark while his cousins worked around him and sent reinforcements. He understood they’d have good reasons for every move, but he still felt the sting of not being in the loop. He glanced at the message again.
BACKUP - ANGIE-GRACE-LOGAN-KELTON. ETA 1600
An odd choice of players. Grace and Logan did contract work with the family as well as with dozens of other agencies, including Interpol. Kelton, was ETC, and Angie, the only member of Meyers.
He liked and trusted Grace and Logan. Their telepathic communication with each other was spooky, but damned handy on an op. What he was less comfortable with was their ability to intercept thoughts not directed at them. Grace apparently only heard children, which led to their work in stopping human trafficking rings.
Logan, though, was reputed to be able to tap into the active thoughts of anyone he focused on. Jake would confess to no one that he’d occasionally done a mental la-la-la-la when Logan was around.
The apartment Jake had been staying in while in France belonged to Grace and Logan. One of a vast number of properties they owned worldwide. Some were simple safe houses while others were villas and country inns with fortress-like security.
Dr. Christopher Kelton headed the psych department of ETCETERA—ETC being a clandestine agency made up of every conceivable kind of investigator from garden-variety scientists to mind readers.
Besides being a power at ETC, he was married to Grace’s half-sister. Made it tough for Grace sometimes because she didn’t always see eye-to-eye with Kelton. Word was they’d butted heads in a spectacular way after her father was murdered.
Jake shook off the edge of resentment. No time for that kind of thing. He was in the loop now and there’d be time for a meet before they went upstairs. Meyers was a hell of an outfit and they’d sent power with a capital P. Looked like their goal was to get into Tara’s head to find out what had happened. Trying to tap into what she didn’t think she knew.
“I’m going down to get my group and bring them to meet you first,” Jake said. And hopefully he’d find out what the hell was going on.
Grace spotted Jake in spite of the disguise and watched him for a minute or two before he noticed her. She wasn’t used to seeing him so serious. He’d always been the carefree nephew when compared with Quinn and Gage. More like Trent, and she wondered if that came with their mutual love of flying.
He’s pissed and worried about his lady. Logan’s voice slipped into her head with information he’d obviously mined from Jake’s.
Young and in love, she responded, and leaned against her husband.
Not like we’re old enough to be his parents at least. He slipped an arm under her coat and when his knuckles bumped her holster, his hand slid lower.
Public place, she reminded him.
Paris. And we’re in love. Besides, your coat’s hiding my hand.
When Jake made them, he went inside and they followed.
Logan’s momentary frown smoothed. I was concerned about him broadcasting a minute ago, but he’s shut down now. Looks like it’s show time, pretty lady. He brushed his mouth over hers.
I’m so looking forward to meeting the woman who’s slipped under his armor.
They climbed the stairs to the second floor.
Once inside a closed waiting room, Logan grinned and held out his hand. “Good to see you.”
Jake squinted. “Is this a trick? You gonna sneak into my head?” Anyone connected with telepaths or mind readers knew access was much easier if there was also a physical connection.
“You got something to hide?”
“Ignore him.” Grace moved in for a hug and Jake didn’t shy away. “How are you doing?”
“Good now that everything’s sunk in and the cavalry’s arrived.” He held his hand out to Logan and they did the one-armed man-hug thing. “Tara had her heart set on going home, but she’s holding up.”
“How much does she remember?”
“Nothing. Not even loading the horse in the crate.”
“You say she’d never get into the stall with the horse, yet the only way she could end up there is by either climbing over the side, or someone putting her there,” Grace said.
“And she’d put up a fight. She’s pretty damn tough. Not unlike Angie. Speaking of, I thought she was with you?”
Grace laughed. “She’s probably still rubbing down her pretty jet and putting it to bed with a big pillow. She got to fly us over in the new Gulfstream.”
“I didn’t know she was certified for the G.”
“She’s not, yet. An ETC pilot flew left seat.”
“Speaking of which, where’s Kelton?”
“He’ll be at the meeting. Prefers to meet all participants at the same time. Claims it prevents his impressions from being skewed,” said Logan.
And wouldn’t she love to mess with his impressions, thought Grace. “Back to business, boys. How do you think Tara would feel about having someone take a little walk through her memories? Or maybe undergoing hypnosis?”
“She’s a pretty private person.”
“Is there any chance she’s keeping details from you? Think about how secretive she was before—Quinn filled us in on how she gave you the information in a roundabout way because she didn’t want to point fingers. How desperate is she to clear her name and get on a plane for home?”
“Mostly, she’s mortified that anyone would think she would harm an animal.”
“If she’s anything at all like me,” said Grace, “when the shock wears off, what she’ll be is thoroughly and unequivocally, pissed. And if that’s the case, I’m betting she’ll go for door number two: hypnosis.”
Jake tipped his head. “Why?”
“She’d have control by approving the questions ahead of time and by having an advocate with her. Whereas, if she gives permission for a memory search, there are no boundaries.”
“How much do you want me to tell her?”
“I think you can leave out our special abilities for now. But it is time we met her.”
Grace could feel the change in him when he tapped on the door. I wonder if he knows he’s in love?
Logan grinned. If he doesn’t, he’s a complete idiot.
One of the cousins said she wasn’t his type.
Logan grinned at her. Like that has anything to do with reality. You weren’t my type either.
Grace’s first impression of the woman sitting on the bed was that she looked ready to bolt from the room.
“Tara, Stan. My cousin slash sort of aunt, Grace, and her husband, Logan.”
Stan met them halfway across the room, with his hand outstretched. “Thank you for coming to help. Tara would never hurt a horse.”
“And I’d sure as hell never climb into a transport stall with one, especially a stallion I didn’t know.” Her fists were clenched, her jaw tight.
“We completely believe in your innocence, but also believe you’re still in danger. We’re here to help you get this mess cleared up and to keep you safe,” said Grace.
Logan approached Tara. “I’m sorry you have no memory of what happened, but sometimes it’s for the best.” He held out his hand and when she took it, he said, “We’ll find out who hurt you, who’s behind all of this.”
“Thank you.” She managed a smile. “I’m starting to feel a bit better knowing Jake’s colleagues are here to help me. I’ve researched Meyers.” She flicked a guilty look at Jake. “I had to know who I was going to trust with the information I had.”
Well? asked Grace, knowing Logan had done a quick scan of Tara’s thoughts.
She’s pretty convinced she knows who’s behind the attack, but has no memory of the incident itself.
And do we know who she suspects?
He’s on Jake’s short list. Now we have to find out why.