7:14 p.m.
After a finely-dressed woman verified their tickets and a waiter in a white tuxedo handed them glasses of champagne, Jacob and Amber wandered through the wide-open space of a large room decorated with paintings on the walls and antique furniture around the outside perimeter. An ice sculpture of an American bald eagle—surrounded by hors d'oeuvres—was in the center of the room. In front of a fireplace was a lectern. Behind and to the right of the speaking station, a live band, dressed in formal wear, played gentle music for the hundred or so guests.
Amber glanced around. “This really is a beautiful place.”
Jacob sipped champagne. “Just remember the illicit foundation it was built upon.”
She bobbed eyebrows and tipped her head slightly. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” She fanned her chest, while gaping at the other women, especially the taller ones with longer hair and expensive jewelry. “So.” She brought a hand to her mouth and cleared her throat. “What exactly are we supposed to do here? What are we looking for—I mean besides my sister?”
Jacob ogled his date, watching her head pivot and her eyes flick left and right, up and down, while she scrutinized the other women. She needs to loosen up. “Give me that.” He took her glass and handed both of their flutes to a passing waiter. “Come with me.”
“Where are we going?”
He escorted to the center of the room, where couples were slow dancing.
“Jacob?”
Jacob took her right hand in his left and held the small of her back. “This is what people do at these things. They drink. They laugh. They converse.” He paused. “And they dance.”
“But I don’t know the first thing about dancing.”
Jacob and Amber moved left and right, sliding across the floor.
“I mean I’ve danced,” Amber followed her partner’s lead, her hips swaying back and forth, “to rock and roll songs. But dancing,” she glimpsed the sliver of daylight between them, “like this…close together…I’ve never slow danced before.”
Smiling, he took a step, pulled her body toward his, gently pushed her hand, and they spun around, her hair flaring outward, as her head lolled backward a little. “Me neither. I guess we’ll just have to wing it.”
She giggled. “Somehow I don’t think you’re being truthful with me, Agent St. Christopher. You’ve done this before.”
Jacob carried her with him into another spin. “Well…okay, maybe once or twice.”
She laughed.
“My ex-wife and I went dancing quite a few times. I fought her at first, but she slowly won me over. And…I got to where I could cut a pretty mean rug.”
Amber smiled at him. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.”
He arched eyebrows. “Whatever do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. Thank you. I feel more at ease now.”
“I swear I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He shrugged. “I just wanted one dance with the prettiest girl at the ball.”
… … … … …
7:23 p.m.
Standing in a circle with three other men, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a champagne flute, Jacob laughed when one of them delivered the punch line to a joke. As the laughter died, he jutted his chin at the joker and glimpsed the two people flanking the man. “So how well do you know Xavier anyway? This is my first time attending one of his functions. I wouldn’t want to be caught off guard in a conversation…if you know what I mean?”
“Well,” Joker glimpsed the hardwood floor, “he’s a shrewd business man. He and I penned a deal not too long ago and,” the man shook his head before eyeing Jacob, “I’m still not sure if I got a good price…or screwed.”
The two others chuckled, while nodding.
“What kind of business is he—” a utensil clinked a glass near the lectern several times, and all eyes went toward the source of the noise.
“Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen.” A short and portly man set the glass and spoon on a table. “May I have your attention please? Your gracious host for this evening’s gala, Mr. Xavier Bergeron, would like to say a few words.”
Jacob spotted Amber winding through the throng of people jostling to get closer to the upcoming speaker. He took her hand and pulled her aside from the gathering. “Did you learn anything?”
“I sure did.” She gestured at the crowd. “If these people had their say, Xavier would be the next Pope.”
“Yeah,” he eyed the partygoers, “I got the same thing. I think it’s time for a direct assault.”
“What do you mean?”
Jacob opened his mouth, but before he could respond, a man spoke from the far side of the room.
“Thank you. Thank you.” Xavier faced the rotund man, who introduced him. “Thank you, Thomas, for that warm welcome. Although,” wearing gold spectacles, the host faced his guests, “many of you, who have dealt with me in the past, in the business arena, would probably use words other than gracious to describe me.”
Low laughter rolled throughout the room, as men looked at each other, some nodding their heads slightly.
Xavier held up his hands. “All joking aside, I’m very pleased that each of you could join me this evening for a very important event. Four years ago, I started this foundation to highlight the horrors of human trafficking…in all its forms. We must work to eradicate this scourge from society.”
Jacob and Amber exchanged glances.
“Our young people are being sold and used like cattle.” Xavier jabbed a finger into the air. “No, cattle are treated more humanely than those abducted by these ruthless thugs.” He paused and scanned the nodding faces. “I pledge to you that every dollar you give to this charity will be used to bring greater awareness to this atrocious black market business.”
The people clapped.
“Thank you.” Xavier raised a hand. “Together, I know we can bring an end to this illegal practice.” Applause interrupted his address for several seconds. “So please consider making a generous contribution, and please…enjoy the appetizers, drinks and lively conversation. Thank you for your continued support.”
Jacob and Amber looked at each other, barely applauding, while the attendees separated and resumed their interactions. “You were saying,” she touched his arm, “something about an assault?”
A waiter passed, and Jacob exchanged his half-empty glass for a full one. “I’m going to wait until the crowd thins out a bit, but,” he sipped, “sometimes if you want the truth, you have to go to the horse’s as—” he shook his head, “horse’s mouth.”
Grinning, she brought the flute to her lips and eyed the golden liquid inside, “You had it right the first time,” before taking a drink.
… … … … …
7:33 p.m.
Amber drank, while glimpsing the crowd. “I don’t think one person has left yet. How long before they thin out?”
“Well, I know it must seem like I attend these type of events all the time, but—”
“Mr. St. Christopher.”
Turning around, Jacob came face to face with the man of the hour.
“I make it a point to meet those who are new to these benefit functions.” Xavier shook his guest’s hand. “It’s a pleasure.”
“The pleasure is mine, Mr. Bergeron.”
“Please call me Xavier.” He faced Amber and shot a glance at Jacob.
Jacob stood next to her and put his hand on her back. “This is my girlfriend, Amber…Amber Jones.”
She gave Jacob a quick look before shaking hands with the host. “Mr. Bergeron—”
He lifted a finger. “Xavier.”
She forced a brief smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Xavier.” The man held her grasp for a few seconds longer than customary. Her heart beating faster, she was forced to flex her bicep a little harder to free the hand.
Noticing the awkward exchange, Jacob lightly patted her back before casually drawing closer and putting his hand on her opposite hip. “This is a nice party, Xavier. You really know how to show people a good time.”
“You’re too kind, sir.” Xavier slipped hands into trouser pockets. “What kind of work do you do, Mr. St. Christopher?”
Letting go of Amber, Jacob slid his free hand into a pants pocket and glanced away before facing his questioner. “Acquisitions.”
“Oh really? Of what type…art, paintings, antiques?”
“No,” Jacob pursed his lips, “I focus on areas of…human interest.”
Xavier slowly nodded his head. “I see.” He paused, slightly squinting at the taller man. “So what brings you to my fundraiser?”
“I couldn’t resist giving to a worthy cause.” Raising his glass, Jacob peeled away a finger and aimed the digit at the lectern. “Your speech included powerful words. Do you really believe all that?”
Xavier stood erect.
“That human trafficking can be eradicated, I mean?”
Xavier relaxed. “I do. I wouldn’t be,” he glimpsed the room, “organizing this event every year if I didn’t. If I may ask, what is your experience with this crime?”
Jacob hesitated. “Three years ago, my daughter went missing.”
Amber cranked her head toward her date, eyes wide.
“She was thirteen at the time.”
“You have my condolences, Mr. St. Christopher. That’s truly a shame.”
“Yes it was.” His gaze penetrating to the back of Xavier’s head, Jacob eyed the man. “I despise those who take advantage of young girls.”
The older man broke eye contact. “As do I.”
“Believe me when I tell you, if I knew someone was abducting women, and forcing them into a life of prostitution or slavery…” raising his free hand to within a few inches of Xavier’s neck, Jacob mimicked a choking gesture.
Xavier recoiled slightly from the claw in his face.
“...I’d rip out his throat and feed it to him.”
With Jacob’s hand still poised in the air, the two men stared at each other.
Slack-jawed, Amber went back and forth between them.
Assuming a casual posture, Jacob lowered the hand. “Forgive me. I sometimes get passionate about worthy causes.”
“Well,” Xavier observed the floor for a few seconds before regarding his donor, “you certainly have your reasons for your passion, Mr. St. Christopher.” He flipped a wrist. “It was a pleasure meeting you both; however, I have something I need to attend to…please excuse me.”
“Of course.” Jacob shook the man’s hand.
“Miss Jones,” Xavier took and kissed the back of her hand, “it was a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“Likewise.”
He dipped his head at the two of them, “Enjoy the rest of your evening,” and walked away.
Jacob glared at Xavier; snaking through the crowd, shaking hands, smiling, laughing. Gritting his teeth, the HomeSec agent balled his pocketed hand into a fist. If you had anything to do with Felicity’s…
Amber put her hand on his back.
…I will make good on what I said. I’ll rip out your heart and—
She looked up at Jacob. “Was that part of your cover, or was it true…what you said about having a daughter, and her being—” droplets hit her cheek, and she flinched. Wiping her face, she glanced down to see Jacob holding his glass in one hand and the base in the other. She took the broken stemware and gave the pieces to a nearby waiter.
“I’m sorry.” Jacob held out his handkerchief.
She waved him off, while scanning her dress. “It was only a couple drops.” Her hand returned to his jacket, and she tipped her head back. “Was that story true?”
His lips disappearing into his mouth for a moment, he gave her a fleeting look before going back to squinting at Xavier, his left eye twitching twice.
Rubbing his back, Amber put her head to his chest for a split second before looking up at him. “I’m so sorry.” She had seen the pain in his passing glance. “You really do know what my family and I are going through.”
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
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