Taken. Lisa Harris
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the door frame. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. They’d shot Rachel...taken Sophie... What in the world did they want with her?
She scrambled across the backseat, then lunged for the handle on the opposite side. The door was unlocked. He grabbed her foot, but she jerked away from his grasp and stumbled out of the car, still managing to grip her bag. But the action threw her into traffic. Cars whizzed by. The man scooted across the seat behind her. She slammed the door on him, but the driver was climbing out of the front of the vehicle.
Kate lunged out into the path of an oncoming taxi, then swerved to the left. There was no way she could cross the busy traffic without getting hit. She ran around the back of the car toward the sidewalk, hoping to lose herself in a sea of shoppers. Brakes squealed and a taxi missed her by inches, but the near accident barely registered.
What did they want with her?
For the first time, she wished she’d listened to Marcus. He’d been right. She should never have come. She had no business tracking down her sister’s shooter on her own. All she wanted was answers and justice and to get her niece back. Instead, she’d gotten herself involved in a situation where not only were her sister’s and Sophie’s lives at stake, but somehow she’d become tangled up in the mess.
A flock of pigeons scattered into the air in front of her. She turned onto a side street, disoriented without the help of the map. But she couldn’t take the time to pull it out. All she knew to do was to keep zigzagging through the narrow streets until she lost them. She could figure out where she was later.
Lungs screaming for air, she forced herself to keep running. She had no one to call. Nowhere to run for help. In a city of millions, she’d never felt so alone.
A car pulled up beside her. “Get in!”
Kate kept running, but something made her pause and turn. Marcus sat in the driver’s seat.
“Get in the car,” he repeated.
Still out of breath, Kate slid into the car and dropped her bag onto the floorboard, too scared to ask questions. Too scared to consider the fact that she might not be trusting the right person.
* * *
Marcus pressed on the accelerator as he pulled into the heavy traffic and tried to bite back his irritation. Kate Elliot was supposed to be five thousand miles away in Dallas, Texas. Not trying to track down her sister’s shooter on her own here in Paris. No. From what he remembered, he’d given her specific instruction that she was to let him and the police handle the investigation of her sister’s attempted murder. Flying to Paris in search of her niece—as she’d clearly done—had not been an option. But for the moment, he couldn’t worry about what she’d done or why she was here. He needed to get her somewhere safe.
Marcus changed lanes and sped down the avenue, weaving in and out of traffic, hoping he’d catch sight of the vehicle that had tried to snatch her. But as much as he wanted to catch whoever had tried to grab her, for the moment her safety needed to be the priority. Because chasing down the bad guys with Kate Elliot at his side wasn’t a good idea.
“Are they following us?” he asked.
She looked back. “I don’t know. The cars...they all look the same.”
“It was a dark compact—”
“They’re all compact cars...or taxis.”
“I need a description, Kate. A license plate number—something I was unable to get. We need to find those guys.”
His irritation grew. They were the reason he was here. He needed to catch those guys and now he’d somehow ended up saddled with Kate and needing to think about her protection.
Which raised even more questions than he had answers. Like how did they know she’d be here in the first place?
“I was on my way to Chad’s store.”
“I was just there. He didn’t come in to work today.”
“You think they’re still after us?” she asked, her voice ragged.
“I managed to find you, and I don’t think they’re simply going to give up. So yes. There’s a good chance they’re still back there.”
“They had a gun...” Her jaw was set, determined, but she still sounded as if she were about to hyperventilate. “They shoved me into a car.”
“I know. I was driving by when you came flying out of that car into the traffic. You’re lucky you weren’t killed. I don’t know what you were thinking—”
Someone smashed into the back of his rental car, shoving both of them forward.
Marcus gripped the steering wheel as he swerved to avoid a collision with the car in front of him. “Hang on, Kate. I think we just found them.”
They’d found them.
“Marcus!”
Kate could hear the edge of panic in her voice. Gripping the armrest with her fingers, she tried not to hyperventilate as the car rammed into them a second time. She winced as her head hit the side of the car. Marcus would get them out of this. He had to. And she had no choice but to trust him. They were just trying to scare them. But why? None of it made sense. They already had Sophie. What else did they want?
Please, God...all I want to do is find Sophie and make sure she’s safe. But I don’t even know what is going on.
“What do they want?” Kate spoke her question out loud, her arms braced for another impact.
“I don’t know. Are you sure it’s them?”
She glanced back again and caught sight of the bald head of the man who’d tried to grab her off the street. She’d recognize him anywhere. “Yes. Besides, I can’t believe this is just a coincidence.”
Marcus’s jaw tensed, the vein in his neck pulsing, as he sped down a one-way street lined with bikes and motorcycles. Pedestrians strolled down the sidewalk, casting glances as they sped past. He slowed down as he came to a busy intersection, and managed to merge into traffic without stopping.
Kate dug her nails into the armrest, willing the car to go faster. “We need to lose them.”
“Not yet. Keep your eye on them. I need a license plate.”
“A license plate?” She craned her neck so she could see out the back window and squinted as she tried to read the plate. The car behind them sped forward, hitting again.
Her seat belt caught as her body snapped forward.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. I got the license.” Kate scrambled for a pen then wrote down the number on her hand.
“Good, because now I need you to make a call.”
“The police?”
“I’m working with French intelligence. They’ll be able to get us some backup.”
Her hands shook as she grabbed his phone, which was sitting between them.
Marcus kept his eyes on the road beside her, weaving in and out of traffic, with the car still on their tail. “Scroll through the favorites contacts and look for Pierre. Make the call, then put it on speakerphone so I can talk to him.”
A moment later, a man with a heavy French accent answered. “Bonjour?”
“Pierre, it’s Marcus.”
“Did you find Chad?”
“No, but I did run into his sister-in-law.”
Kate felt her fear morphing into anger as Marcus explained the situation while speeding