Not dead yet, p.5
Not Dead Yet, page 5
He moved to the door, and Cas followed. “See you tomorrow.”
As soon as he stepped into the hall, the locks clicked behind him. A moment later, his cell phone buzzed with her text. He opened the address in his GPS and made his way outside. The wail of an emergency vehicle carried along the otherwise quiet street. Donovan skirted past the swath of light coming from a streetlamp. He strolled toward his destination as though Paris were his home rather than someplace he’d visited only a handful of times. Three minutes later, he reached the apartment building and climbed the five flights of stairs to his temporary housing.
He unlocked the door and quickly searched the one-bedroom apartment. As soon as he was satisfied it was secure, he circled back to the living area and soaked up his surroundings. The furnishings didn’t extend beyond the basics—a couple bar stools at the kitchen counter, a couch in the living room, and a small desk with a straight-backed chair by the window—but even in its simplicity, the place had class.
Flashing lights filtered through the curtains, which Donovan drew aside. In the distance, the Eiffel Tower glimmered in all its nighttime glory. He didn’t know how the guardians had been fortunate enough to purchase property that accentuated that particular amenity, but he couldn’t have asked for a better backdrop.
He kicked off his shoes and dropped onto the couch, where he could enjoy the view. His body relaxed, and his eyes drooped closed. The thought flitted through his mind that he should take advantage of the bed in the next room, but he didn’t have the energy. Even the couch was a huge improvement over his sleeping options of the past week.
He tucked a throw pillow under his head and settled more firmly into the soft cushions.
His phone rang.
He groaned and rolled over, then pulled the phone from his pocket. Ace. “Yeah?”
“Are you still with Cas?”
“No. Why?”
“The bomber was picked up outside of Paris fifteen minutes ago.”
“Are they sure they have the right guy?”
“They’re sure. He was caught on camera leaving the train station a few minutes before the bomb went off. His phone log also shows he was the one who called the police.”
“Where’s he from?”
“Chad.”
“If the guy is in custody, how long do you want me to stay here and indulge Cas’s curiosity about her ex?”
“As long as it takes.”
“As long as it takes to what? To show Cas that her sister is dating her ex? Or that the guy really tried to kill her four years ago?”
“Long enough for Cas to find what she needs. Who knows, maybe in your digging, you two can find the link to the Freedom Coalition and whatever group is controlling them,” Ace said. “I also need you to confirm if our bomber is connected to the Alnaazir in Sudan.”
“What evidence do you have that he is?”
“He had Sudanese pounds on him when he was taken into custody. If he is with the Alnaazir, this could be an indication that whatever these guys are up to, it’s escalating.”
“Has anyone been able to access the debriefing report for Tucker?”
“Not yet, but we should have it tomorrow,” Ace said. “Get some sleep. You’re going to need it.”
“Story of my life.”
“Hey, at least you have a bed tonight.”
“For that, I’m grateful.” Donovan ended the call, set his phone on the coffee table, and rolled over again on the couch. Maybe he’d try out the bed tomorrow night.
* * *
Cas fought against the urge to take the metro to the Four Seasons hotel. Donovan was right. Researching her family could wait until tomorrow, but no amount of common sense could reduce the impatience boiling inside her. The desire to catch a glimpse of her parents was nearly as strong as her need to know what Roshaun was really up to.
In an effort to distract herself from the flood of questions, Cas washed the dishes and wiped down the counters. Once those tasks were complete, she headed to her room with the intent of going to bed early. If she was right, tomorrow was going to be a busy day.
She stopped when she reached the living room and studied the layout of the furniture. With no control over what was going on outside her apartment, the desire to put her life in order tugged at her. She leaned over and shoved at the couch until it was once again against the wall. Then she moved her favorite chair next to the window. It really did look better there.
Satisfied with the new arrangement, she got ready for bed. By nine thirty, her face was washed, her teeth were brushed, and her mind was spinning. It took her only fifteen minutes to give up on sleep and return to her kitchen table, her computer in front of her and the surveillance feed from the Four Seasons’ lobby cameras displayed on her screen.
Two security guards stood at the entrance, a nod to the potential danger from the terrorist activity in the city as well as the possibility of protests against the authorities’ inability to stop it. Cas watched for an hour before she carried her laptop with her to her bedroom. Keeping her screen in front of her, she climbed into bed, then grabbed the remote on her bedside table and turned on the TV for background noise.
A newscaster on her father’s French affiliate recapped the investigation into the terrorist attack, including the capture of the suspected bomber. Following that piece of good news came the announcement of a planned demonstration on Saturday to protest the lack of response by the police to the bomb threat.
Only two days to identify the person behind the fake news story. Otherwise, the police would have to divert significant resources to keeping the protests peaceful. No one wanted a repeat of the weeks of civil unrest that had occurred the last time Parisians took to the streets. There had been looting, burning cars, and minor injuries for both civilians and law enforcement. Knowing her family, they would line up for a front-row seat. At least they would be able to watch from the penthouse balcony where they would be safe.
Cas straightened when the camera showed her sister exiting the hotel elevator. Roshaun stepped off right behind her and slipped his arm around her shoulders. They crossed into the main lobby camera view. Makayla looked up and laughed at something Roshaun said.
Something sharp and jagged ripped through Cas’s heart.
Chapter 6
Birds chirped. A truck engine roared to life. The scent of fresh bread lingered in the air. Donovan stretched his arms over his head, the movement nearly toppling him off the couch. He regained his balance and sat up. Bleary-eyed, he stared at the tall window across the room, the Eiffel Tower perfectly framed in the center, a cloudless blue sky creating the perfect scene. Was he really here for work, or had Ace sent him here for a much-needed vacation? Spending time searching on the computer with Cas and trailing an ex-boyfriend would be a piece of cake compared to his usual.
Donovan headed for the shower and dressed for the day. After he threw his clothes in the washing machine, he gathered his computer bag and left the apartment.
He was in line at the bakery, debating what to buy, when Ace called.
“Where are you?” Ace asked.
“At the bakery, on my way to a friend’s,” Donovan said, deliberately not mentioning Cas’s name in public. “Can I call you back?”
“Just answer yes or no. Did you do a search on Cas’s background this morning?”
“No. Why?”
“Someone did, and the search originated in Paris.”
Donovan’s heartbeat picked up. “Did you already tell her?”
“She isn’t answering.”
Donovan stepped out of line. “I’m supposed to be there in fifteen minutes. Maybe she’s in the shower.”
“Or maybe she’s been compromised.”
“I’m on my way to her apartment now.” Donovan rushed out the door. “ETA four minutes.”
“I’ll call her again.”
“Let me know if you reach her.” Donovan hung up and picked up his pace. The moment he entered Cas’s building, he pushed past three men waiting near the elevators in the spacious lobby and made his way into the stairwell. As soon as he was out of their line of sight, he broke into a run and sprinted up the stairs. He forced himself to slow when he reached the third floor, taking a moment to verify the hall was clear. He reached Cas’s door, listened for a brief moment, and knocked with a heavy hand.
No answer. He knocked again.
“Coming.” Cas yanked the door open. “You’re early.”
Donovan pushed his way inside and glanced around. The living room furniture had been rearranged, but other than that, nothing appeared to be out of place.
Cas closed the door and looked at his empty hands. “What happened to you bringing breakfast?”
Donovan ignored her question and asked one of his own. “Did you talk to Ace?”
“No. Why?”
“He’s been trying to call you.”
Cas pulled her phone out of her pocket and unlocked her screen. “My phone is right here, and it doesn’t show any missed calls.”
“Let me see it.” Donovan snatched it out of her hand.
Cas crossed her arms. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”
Donovan opened Cas’s favorites and hit the button to call Ace. Nothing. He tried again, using his own phone. Again, the call didn’t go through.
“Our phones aren’t working. We have to get out of here.”
Cas opened the coat closet door and grabbed her leather go-bag. “A cell tower could be down.”
“Or someone is using a dampening field,” Donovan said. “Ace called me. Someone here in Paris did a search on your real name this morning.”
Cas whirled to face him. “Who?”
“I don’t know.”
Cas rushed into the kitchen, opened the freezer, and grabbed a Ziploc bag full of . . . cookies.
“You might be compromised and you grabbed dessert?”
“Long story.” She dropped them into her messenger bag. “Let’s go.” She paused at the door long enough to look through the peephole.
“Clear?” Donovan asked.
“So far.” Cas led the way into the hall. She turned away from the nearest stairwell and opted for the one farther away.
“Does your building have surveillance?” Donovan asked.
“Yes, but if there’s a dampening field, we won’t be able to tap into it.”
Donovan contemplated their limited options. “Maybe instead of going down, we should go up.”
“Good idea.” Cas climbed the stairs to the fourth floor. Donovan glanced at his phone and tried calling Ace again. “Still nothing.”
“Do we risk the elevator? Or should we take the stairs?”
“Any idea who might have compromised you?” Donovan asked, his voice low. “Could your sister or Roshaun have seen you?”
“No. I’m sure they didn’t notice me.”
“Someone did.”
“Or this is a false alarm. The anniversary of my death was this week. It could be someone was looking me up because of my family being here in Paris.”
“Maybe, but that doesn’t explain why our phones aren’t working.”
“I usually take the stairs. Maybe the elevator is the smarter choice.”
Donovan followed her to the small glass-encased elevator. He pressed the button, and a moment later, the doors slid open to reveal an empty elevator.
They stepped inside the cramped space, and Cas hit the button for the first floor. “We’ll be able to see the ground-level lobby from the first-floor hallway.”
“Good.” They reached their stop and peeked over the railing. Three men stood on the ground floor, one beside the elevator and the other two next to the staircase entrances.
So much for a quiet week in Paris.
* * *
Cas studied the familiar figures, and panic streaked through her. It couldn’t be. How did they find her?
“Looks like you have a welcome party,” Donovan whispered. “Do you know them?”
“Yes, and they know me.” Cas took a step back, and her heart jolted. “The man in the center is Jamal Williams, a member of the coalition’s board of directors.”
“And the other two?”
“Ezra Jackson is on the left. He’s a protest organizer for the coalition.” Cas took another step back. “I don’t know the other one.”
“But you can guess he’ll know you,” Donovan said. “Is there another exit?”
Cas fought for calm. She was no longer the naive girl who didn’t understand the evil in the world. She was a trained intelligence operative. Various exit strategies raced through her mind. “The fire escape, if we can get to it.”
“What are the chances they’ll have someone watching for you outside?”
“I don’t know. It’s possible.” Cas leaned forward. “They aren’t trying to find me at my apartment.”
“Which means they either don’t know which one you live in . . .”
“Or they have more men with them.” Cas took another quick look at the men below. “None of these guys is carrying anything large enough to suppress cell signals for a whole building.”
“They must have someone outside.”
“And going down the fire escape will leave us vulnerable.”
“Are any of the apartments on this floor vacant?”
“No, but a cop lives in 107.” Cas started down the hall.
“Looking for backup?”
“Either that or a way to the fire escape,” Cas said. “With all the chaos going on in the city right now, I doubt anyone’s home.”
“Only one way to find out.” Donovan strode beside her and knocked on the door. No answer. He knocked again. Still no response. Donovan retrieved a lockpick from his bag. “I really hope this guy isn’t in the shower.” He turned the lock.
“Woman, actually. A female cop lives here.”
Donovan stepped back. “You go first.”
Cas slipped inside, and Donovan followed, closing the door behind him. The lamp on the end table cast a soft glow in the otherwise dark apartment. The shutters on the windows were closed, and no sound indicated anyone was home.
“Wait here,” Cas whispered. She crept through the living area of the apartment that was nearly identical to her own and made her way down the hall. The bedroom door hung open. Cas peeked inside. Empty. After checking the closet and bathroom, Cas called out, “Clear.” She moved to the window where a traditional metal fire escape filled her view.
Donovan approached behind her. “Move over. I’ll look out and see if anyone is at the bottom.” He opened the window and leaned out to get a better look. He didn’t speak until he leaned back inside. “Looks like your friends are covering all of the exits.”
Fear merged with determination. “Now what?”
“We need a distraction.” Donovan glanced around the room. “Too bad the cop who lives here doesn’t have an alarm system.”
“There’s a fire alarm in the main hall,” Cas said. “If we pull it, I might be able to slip outside in the crowd.”
“That may be our best bet.” He snapped his fingers and opened the closet. After a brief search, he plucked out a police uniform and held it in front of him. “Put this on. It will help you blend in.”
Cas took it from him. Would the uniform allow her to hide in plain sight, or would it draw attention to her when she needed to be invisible? She blew out a breath. Whether she liked it or not, this was her best option. She carried the uniform into the bathroom to change. Time for a new kind of undercover work.
Chapter 7
Donovan checked his phone again while he waited for Cas to change. Still no service. Ace had to be going crazy right about now, not knowing what was going on.
Cas opened the bathroom door and stepped into the bedroom. Donovan clenched his jaw to keep his mouth from dropping open. How the woman could make a police uniform look good was beyond him. She held up the brown ankle boots she had been wearing. “I hope her feet are the same size as mine because no one is going to believe I’m a cop wearing these.”
Donovan opened the closet door and pulled out a pair of practical loafers in black. “Try these.”
Cas checked the size. “Close enough.” She opened her bag and retrieved her pistol with its waistband holster before she packed her boots inside. She sat on the bed and pushed her feet into the shoes. “I didn’t see a belt. Is there one in the closet?”
“No, sorry.”
“Is our guy still by the fire escape?”
Donovan glanced out the window. “Yeah.”
“I don’t know which is safer, trying to exit through the lobby or going down the fire escape.” She tucked her weapon into the front of her waistband. “If we get lucky, the alarm system is hardwired and emergency personnel will respond. If not, we go wherever the crowd is.”
Donovan led the way back into the living room. “You ready?”
She moved to the window where she could see the fire escape. “Ready.”
Donovan opened the door and crossed to the fire alarm on the wall between the cop’s apartment and the next one. After a quick check to make sure the hall was clear, he elbowed the glass that covered the alarm and pulled the lever. Instantly, an alarm shrieked through the air. Donovan darted back into the apartment and closed the door. The last thing he needed was to be noticed by one of the policewoman’s neighbors.
Doors and windows opened. Footsteps clanged on the metal fire escape. More echoed in the hallway.
“How’s it looking out there?” Donovan asked.
“Only five people on the fire escape. How about the hall?”
Donovan peeked through the peep hole. “One couple heading for the stairs. We need to wait for the upper floors to empty so we have more of a crowd.”
