Page 93 of Elusive Promise

"Oh, my God," Parisa said, putting her hand on his leg. "That duffel bag…"

"Filled with cash, I'm guessing."

"Anika is making the drop. Westley is going to be a decoy."

He flung her a quick look. "I think so, too. Maybe that's what she and Westley were setting up the other day. But I don't think the switch is sanctioned by law enforcement. I heard your pal Damon going over the rules with Westley, and there was no mention of Anika's involvement."

"The kidnappers must have contacted Westley separately."

"And he enlisted Anika's help."

"Which is crazy, because she won't know what to do, how to handle a situation as volatile as this."

"I don't know about that. Anika seems like a pretty cool customer to me."

"Cool, yes, but she's not a hostage negotiator."

"I don't think there's going to be a negotiation." He stayed several cars behind Anika as she drove away from the park. The last thing he wanted was for her to spot them.

"I should call Damon," Parisa said.

"Let's play this out a bit longer, just in case we're wrong. Plus, Vincent Rowland was in the living room with Damon. If you call Damon, and Vincent is involved, you could be putting Jasmine's life on the line—"

"Got it," she said crisply, pulling her gun out. "We've got this."

The FBI agent in Parisa had just come to life. He could see the determination and focus in her eyes, and he felt exactly the same way. If Anika was meeting the kidnappers, they might have only a split second to make a decision that could save Jasmine's life.

As he stopped at a light, he saw Parisa drilling her fingers against her thigh. He covered her hand and met her gaze. "We're going to do everything we can to save her. We're as well trained as anyone."

"I know. I'm glad you're with me, Jared. We're stronger together."

"I agree." They were better together in a lot of ways. He just didn't know if they could stay together.

Twenty-Two

"Where do you think Anika is going?" Parisa asked as they took the Midtown Tunnel, heading toward Queens.

"I'm guessing a house," he said. "It makes sense that they'd keep Jasmine in a single-family home—no doorman, no nosy neighbors to hear anyone yelling or crying."

She checked her watch. "It's 9:20—forty minutes to the official drop. Westley will be leaving in probably ten minutes. Maybe we're wrong. Anika could be going to a friend's house."

"Then why didn't she say she was leaving when you were in the salon? And why did she exit through the tunnel? And what's in the bag?"

Jared asked a lot of good questions. Her gut told her that Anika was going to make her own drop.But would Jasmine be there?She straightened in her seat as Anika's car slowed down. "She's looking for an address. Don't get too close."

"I won't." He reduced their speed, lingering at a stop sign for an extra beat.

The homes in this neighborhood were modest in size, and rather run-down, with overgrown weeds sprouting through cracked sidewalks and chain-link fences around some properties. Parisa caught her breath as Anika turned in to the short driveway for an old, narrow, two-story colonial with peeling yellow paint. It was between an empty lot and a house that had been boarded up. There were homes across the street, but no one too close.

Jared crossed through the intersection and pulled over behind a parked truck several houses down from the one Anika was at. He cut the engine.

She gripped her gun tightly as she watched for some sign of movement from the residence. There was no one out in this working-class neighborhood on a Monday morning, which could be good. She didn't want to deal with innocent bystanders if things went south.

"What is she waiting for?" Jared questioned.

"I don't know, but we need to get closer."

"Agreed. There's a bus coming down the street behind us. If Anika or anyone in that house is looking in this direction, we'll be out of sight for a second. I'll cross the street. You take this side."

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