Page 24 of Elusive Promise

"Because I still have my gun." She took it out of the waistband of her leggings as a pointed reminder that she could take care of herself.

He smiled and then pulled up his long-sleeve shirt and took out his own gun.

She couldn't stop her jaw from dropping. "Why didn't you show your gun before—like in the safe house when I was being attacked?"

"I didn't need to."

Her gaze narrowed. "Since when do reporters carry guns?"

"It's a dangerous world, Parisa."

"Don't I know it," she muttered, grabbing the handle of her suitcase and dragging it into the bedroom. She didn't bother to lock the door, because he could easily break through the flimsy lock. And while she didn't know who he really was or what his long-term game was, her instinct told her she could trust him—for now.

Six

Jared put his gun down on the table, waiting to hear the click of the lock on the bedroom door, but it didn't come. He was surprised. Parisa definitely didn't trust him, but, apparently, she trusted him enough. He wished he could say the same.

She'd clearly been speaking to someone in law enforcement, probably the man she'd called earlier. And she had some kind of credentials. If she'd just been a witness to the kidnapping, she would not have been given any facts about what was happening at the consulate or where the Kumars were now staying.

If he had to guess, he'd say she was FBI. Her driver to the safe house had been Special Agent Damon Wolfe. And when she'd made her call from the car earlier, even though she'd been careful in her word choices, it had been clear that she knew the person she was speaking to.

Pulling his laptop computer from the top drawer of his desk, he opened it, and logged into an encrypted site. There, he found a copy of the police report that Gary had sent him—the interview between the police and Parisa. He skimmed through the report, noting that Parisa had stated that she'd gone upstairs with Jasmine, because the bride-to-be wanted a break from all the attention. Had that really been it?

The kidnappers had only put the toxins in the third-floor ventilation system, which was a newer system and separate from the one servicing the first two floors. Someone had to know that Jasmine would go upstairs. Had Parisa actually been the one to set Jasmine up? To get her to go to her bedroom?

His gaze narrowed on that thought. But that would make Parisa a conspirator, and he didn't believe that. If he hadn't found her and gotten her out of the bedroom, she could have easily died along with the guards.

But who else would have known that Jasmine would even go upstairs during the party?

Or had the kidnappers planned to do it later that evening?

He frowned, hating when a piece of the puzzle didn't fit. Jasmine could have easily gone home with Westley that night. In fact, she probably would have.

There was something he was missing.But what?

Leaving that question hanging, he spent the next fifteen minutes reading through witness statements, none of which were of value to the investigation as far as he could see. He noted that Gordon Roberts, the security guard who had been posted at the back stairway, had disappeared. Two waiters had also vanished after the kidnapping—Victor Salgetti and Ray Bateen. Gary was already researching the three men, and he was sure the other agencies involved were doing the same. Hopefully, someone had left a clue behind.

Clicking out of the police report, he pulled up photos of Sara Pillai and Isaac Naru. He wanted to show them to Parisa. She claimed she'd never heard of them, but there might be a chance she'd seen them somewhere, possibly at the party.

Sara was a slim girl of twenty-two, with brown hair that she almost always wore in a ponytail. She had striking features, and he could certainly see why twenty-one-year-old Ben had fallen for her. The photograph of her had been taken in Paris a week before the explosion. She and Ben had had a picnic in front of the Eiffel Tower and Ben appeared to be completely infatuated with the woman sitting on the blanket across from him.

The moment, the relationship, seemed innocent and not at all noteworthy, if not for what had happened a week later.

His gaze moved to the second photo. Isaac Naru was a short and stocky man of twenty-nine years, with a square face and a brooding, shifty expression. His photo had been caught by a security camera at London's Heathrow Airport as he'd waited to board a plane to Paris three days before the explosion. Had he been contemplating what he was about to do?

Neither step-siblings had been seen since the blast at the café. There had been no record of them leaving Paris or arriving anywhere else. Ben had departed Paris four days after the blast. He'd taken a direct flight to JFK Airport. For the past two weeks, he'd been staying with his parents at the apartment they'd rented a year earlier. Ben didn't appear to be taking classes, although he had not yet graduated from Everly.

He opened another computer window and pulled up a photograph of Ben that he'd taken at the party. He really wished now that he'd made a move on Ben while he'd had the chance. He'd been waiting to see if he'd connect with Sara or Isaac, but he'd waited too long.

He heard a click and as the bedroom door opened, his attention moved to Parisa. She'd changed out of her leggings into dark-blue jeans and a cream-colored ribbed V-neck sweater that clung to some very nice, full breasts.

A knot entered his throat as his gaze moved to her face. Her eye was not as swollen as it had been, but there was purple-and-black bruising around the lid and the bridge of her nose.

Despite the bruises, she had beautiful features with her wide-set dark eyes, long, sweeping lashes, and a sexy mouth. Her skin had a warm, honey-glow, and was creamy, no freckles or skin spots—nothing to mar the perfection.

His pulse sped up as she looked back at him, as he felt the strong pull of attraction that had hit him the first moment he'd seen her. For a split second, at the party, he'd almost forgotten why he was there, what he was supposed to be doing. And he couldn't make that mistake now.

It wasn't going to be easy to concentrate with her around, but he would have to find a way. Later…maybe later…they could explore some other distractions.

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