Taken. Lisa Harris

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Taken - Lisa Harris


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      “Kate—”

      “She loves macaroni from the box and strawberry licorice,” Kate continued, as if she were pleading her case in court. She might sound desperate, but needed him to realize this wasn’t just some missing person, or some domestic dispute in another case he was working on. “Sophie loves Dora the Explorer, going to Sunday school. She can’t sleep without her one-eyed bunny, Lily.”

      Marcus’s eyes widened. “I don’t have an update about your niece, except...”

      “What do you know?” she prodded.

      “You told me your sister’s passport was missing.”

      “Sophie’s has to be missing, as well.”

      “We checked airline manifest lists since her father lives in France.” Hands clenched at her sides, she waited for him to continue. “Both passports were used to fly to Paris. A woman and a little girl, presumably your niece.”

      A ball of emotion tangled inside Kate as she fought not to cry. “So Sophie’s in Paris?”

      “That’s what we believe.”

      Chad was AWOL... Sophie was missing...

      Kate pressed her lips together, because at the moment, there only seemed to be one solution. No matter what Marcus O’Brian, with his perfect profile and piercing blue eyes, had said, she’d already made up her mind. There was only one person in her mind who had the answers. She needed to talk to Chad. Even if that meant flying to Paris and finding Chad herself.

       TWO

      At nine twenty-nine Wednesday morning, Central European time, Kate was already second-guessing herself and wondering—not for the first time—if flying halfway around the world had been a sane decision.

      She clutched the strap of her pink tote bag and pressed through the crowded promenade running parallel to the famous Champs Elysées. Lined with boutiques, chic restaurants and fancy storefronts, it was exactly how she’d imagined Paris. But after thirteen hours of travel, two planes, the RER train into the city and a taxi, her decision seemed impulsive, even reckless. But what choice did she have? She needed answers. Needed to speak with Chad. Needed to find Sophie. Careless or not, she was still convinced that coming to Paris had been her only option. Chad was the key to finding Sophie.

      Which was why there’d been little time to think through the consequences of her actions. She’d charged the airline ticket to her credit card, booked a hotel, then pulled out everything she had on Paris in her travel files. A quick check-in at her hotel after landing, along with a shower, had helped clear her mind, but it hadn’t quite managed to squelch the anxiety or the fear. Added to her list of frustrations was Marcus O’Brian, who had yet to give her an update on his investigation.

      Not that he owed her one, she supposed, but a phone call from the man would go a long way. And not because he’d appeared in her dreams last night, or that she’d yet been unable to forget those blue eyes of his. She just needed someone on her side. So far the only person who’d seemed happy for her company had been the taxi driver who’d gladly exchanged her Euros for a neck-breaking race from her hotel to Chad’s place of employment.

      Kate glanced at her map, then scanned the stone-cut buildings beside her with their decorative ironwork, looking for Anne-Loure, the jewelry shop where Chad worked. The taxi driver had dropped her off short of the shop, but she’d wanted the exercise and hopefully time to get her bearings. But apparently, he’d left her farther from the store than she’d intended. According to her map, the shop was still a half-dozen blocks away. Exploring the famed City of Lights and its history had always been on the top ten of her bucket list. But not this way.

      Paris was supposed to be savored slowly while sipping a café au lait. Lazy afternoons strolling alongside the Seine or leisurely digesting the history of a local museum. Even now, she could sense the historic city’s energy. With its offering of historic sites like the Louvre, Notre Dame and the Eiffel Tower, Paris was a mecca for tourists, artists and historians.

      Kate blew out a sharp breath. This wasn’t exactly how she’d expected to spend her first trip to Paris. She and Kevin had decided on a twelve-day tour of Europe’s cities of lights for their honeymoon, including two nights each in Paris and Prague. A scenic river cruise along the Rhine, Heidelberg... It would have been the perfect honeymoon until Kevin ran off and married her best friend, who would have been the maid of honor at their wedding.

      She’d always thought the story would make the perfect script for a romantic comedy—if it had a different ending. Something along the lines of jilted bride finds love with lonely best man or something like that, but in her case, there had been no lonely best man or happy ending. Just a lot of embarrassment and explanations as to why her fiancé was honeymooning with her best friend.

      At least she hadn’t burned the contents of the honeymoon folder, because today she needed the spreadsheet with travel information, Google maps, online transportation websites, hotels and dozens of other details she’d collected and organized while planning their trip.

      She was over Kevin. Their broken engagement seemed like a lifetime ago most days. And maybe now something good was going to come out of the situation. She’d traveled enough outside the United States to feel fairly confident as long as she had a map and cell phone in hand.

      But as much as the city might beckon, she needed to stay focused on one thing and one thing only.

      Finding Sophie.

      She ran her finger across the photos of Sophie she’d stuck inside the cover of her travel guide—a reminder as to why she was here. Brown hair, bright blue eyes and a smile that melted your heart in two. This was why she was here. Because if anything happened to her—

      Someone brushed against her shoulder. The hairs on her neck bristled. Kate stiffened as a long-haired teen walked away, not even acknowledging the incident. She shook off the eerie sensation. Marcus flashed through her mind, making her wish he was with her, but she quickly shoved away the image. He might have that classic tall, dark and handsome look going for him, and an overprotective vibe, too, but he was also a federal agent with an agenda. He believed Rachel was involved in something illegal. She’d seen it in his eyes, along with the suspicion toward herself. Which meant the man wasn’t worth the risk of a second look.

      And she didn’t need him. Because no one was watching her. No one was after her. Lack of sleep, long hours of travel and the added guilt from being unable to protect her sister were messing with her mind.

      But she couldn’t ignore the knot of fear that had settled into the pit of her stomach. She turned and glanced behind her. How was it possible that in a sea of pedestrians, she still felt as if she were being followed? She hesitated beneath the shade of a shop awning. Notre Dame loomed a few blocks away with its stunning stained glass windows and gargoyles. For a moment, she considered running to the safety and quiet of the historic church. But God could hear her constant prayers just as well here as in the middle of a cathedral. She forced her mind to focus. Speaking with Chad was her one priority right now.

      Someone’s elbow jabbed her from behind. This time, her bag slipped from her shoulder and crashed to the sidewalk, its contents scattering across the pavement. She lunged for the pink MP3 player that had tumbled out and started to grab it, but the man hovering over her snatched it first.

      Shaken, she stood up, hand outstretched, and caught the man’s steel gaze. When he still wouldn’t hand over the MP3, she chanced that he would understand English, and asked, “What do you want?”

      He pulled back his jacket revealing the tip of the gun he was carrying. “I want you to come with me.”

      The knot in her stomach tightened. She glanced around at the shoppers passing by. She could run, but if he caught her, she’d never be able to fight him.

      She decided to scream.

      Fingers dug


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