Page 70 of Elusive Promise

"They'll try again."

"We'll be ready."

"Does that mean we're still partners?" she asked, happy to see that his earlier anger had dissipated.

He frowned as he turned his gaze back on her. "I don't like what you did, Parisa. We were working together, and you went behind my back. How can I trust you?"

"It was an impulsive decision, Jared. When I was waiting in the restaurant, I started thinking about how much needed to be done, how many boots were required on the ground, how many people might need to be investigated, places to be searched, and how little time there was before the ransom payoff. That overrode everything. All I could think about was that I didn't want Jasmine to die."

"People died in Paris, too."

"I know that," she said, noting the depth of emotion in his voice. "But Jasmine is in danger now. And you know how critical it is to find her as soon as possible." She tilted her head, giving him a long look. "I told you who I am, Jared. Now, you need to tell me who you are. Let's put all our cards on the table. No more secrets. Who do you work for?"

He gave her a long, hard look and then he said, "CIA."

She let out a breath, a little surprised he'd actually told her, but not really shocked he was CIA. "So, you're a spy."

"I prefer operative."

"Were you in Paris at the time of the explosion?"

"Yes."

"When did you come back to New York?"

"Two weeks ago. When I realized Ben might be involved, I followed him back here."

"So, your apartment is really new."

"I rented it furnished."

"Why are you working alone, Jared? Or are you working alone? What is the CIA's involvement in this?"

"The agency is not involved in the investigation into Jasmine's kidnapping, unless someone on some level is working with the bureau, providing information on Bezikstan radical groups. But that person is not me."

"But the CIA is looking into Paris."

He hesitated. "Yes, but not with as much intensity as I would like."

He was answering her questions, but he still wasn't giving her much. As she studied the shadows in his light-green eyes, it all clicked in to place. "You knew one of the Paris victims, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me that before?"

"Because you didn't need to know."

"You're not going to give me that CIA bullshit, are you?"

"It's true. You didn't need to know."

"Well, I do now. Who died in Paris? Was it a friend, a girlfriend, a relative?"

"It was a coworker, a fellow operative. Her name was April." He turned away from her, staring out the front window, as he tapped his fingers restlessly on the steering wheel.

"You and April were working a case in Paris?"

"It actually started in London."

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