Dead in a Week, Page 5

  “Can you swing it?” Aidan asked, even though he already knew what her answer would be.

  “I’m at home. So I can begin packing now. There’ll be no obstacles. McKinsey will be delighted to acquire Nano as a client.” She paused, and Aidan could hear her unzipping a suitcase. “I’ll take the train from Lyon to Paris—”

  “Not necessary.” Aidan cut her off. “I already dispatched Zermatt’s Gulfstream to you. It’ll arrive at Lyon-Bron Airport by morning.”

  Simone had a smile in her voice. “Merci. I’m honored. Such royal treatment after you just flew commercial. Or was leaving the private jet in New York a strategic move on your part?”

  “You know the answer to that. I wanted you out here. I wasn’t going to waste time making that happen for my own personal convenience. The jet will arrive in Lyon by five a.m. You should be in San Francisco tomorrow afternoon Pacific Time. A car will pick you up and drive you to the Four Seasons Hotel in Silicon Valley. There’ll be a reservation in your name.”

  “Will you be there in my bed to welcome me?”

  Aidan heard the half-teasing, half-seductive note in her voice and responded ruefully. “Unfortunately, no. I’ve got to get home to Abby and put some other pieces in place. I’ll probably be flying to Munich for an overnight. But not to worry. I’ll be back in California ASAP.”

  “I’m very glad to hear that. Au revoir, mon amour.”

  Aidan stared at his phone for a long time after disconnecting the call. His mind was racing in an entirely different direction, rethinking an idea that he’d been toying with for some time now. His network was vast. But there was one avenue he had yet to tap—a strong and accessible one. This would be the perfect opportunity to reach out and see what it would be like to work with his brother in a hands-on way he’d never done. Plus, his brother’s own investigative team—a team Aidan had helped out more than once—had a few key members who’d be very helpful here in both a professional and personal capacity. The fit was good.

  He’d make the call and start the ball rolling.

  Offices of Forensic Instincts

  Tribeca, Manhattan, New York

  24 February

  Saturday, 3:00 p.m. local time

  Casey Woods, president of the successful and high-powered investigation agency Forensic Instincts, was seated at the brownstone’s main conference room table, reading an update on their current case. It was still in its infancy—preliminary interviews and computer searches being conducted—and Casey didn’t expect it to burst into full swing until all the intel had been gathered. For now, the urgency was moderate. Her gut told her that would change. By then, she and her team would be ready.

  She’d just poured herself yet another cup of coffee when her cell phone rang.

  She glanced down at the blocked number and frowned. She didn’t like anonymous calls. Still, she couldn’t ignore them. Sometimes they were important. So she settled for answering in an equally anonymous manner.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Casey. It’s Aidan.”

  Casey’s brows rose in surprise. Aidan Devereaux was the older brother of her right-hand man, Marc Devereaux. Both brothers were forces to be reckoned with. Marc was former Navy SEAL, former FBI, former FBI Behavioral Analysis Unit, and an original member of Forensic Instincts. Aidan was a former Marine communications and intelligence officer and current bigwig at Heckman Flax—plus something larger that Casey wasn’t privy to but suspected was huge. Aidan had consulted for FI on several significant cases. Still, she wasn’t accustomed to him calling her—not unless they were working on a case together. Which, right now, they weren’t.

  “Hi, Aidan,” she said. “This is unexpected.”

  “I hope it’s not a bad time.” He didn’t wait to ensure that it wasn’t. “I need to ask you a favor, and at the same time, I need to request that you not ask why.”

  Casey’s lips curved. “Now that sounds intriguing. Surprising, too. You’ve never asked us for a favor, although we’ve called on you more than once.” She sipped her coffee. “You’ve saved our asses and our lives. Whatever you want is yours, no questions asked.”

  “What I want is to borrow three of your team members. My brother, Emma, and Ryan.”

  Whatever Casey had been expecting, it hadn’t been that.

  “That’s an interesting request,” she replied. Marc was an obvious choice for whatever Aidan was doing. As FI’s techno genius, Ryan made sense, too. But Emma? She was the youngest and newest team member—a former pickpocket, now reformed. Invaluable, but still…

  “Did I promise not to ask any questions?” Casey tried.

  “Yeah, you did.”

  A sigh. “Okay, consider it done. When do you need them and for how long?”

  “Immediately. And for a week. Marc and Emma will be traveling and away full-time. Ryan will be on call twenty-four seven from New York.”

  “Does this mean we’ll finally learn about the secret life of Aidan Devereaux?” Casey asked lightly but with genuine curiosity.

  “It means that you and your team members will be given information on a need-to-know basis.”

  “Understood.” Casey didn’t press. “The rest of us are available to you, as well. However we can help, we will.”

  “I know. And thanks. I hope you’re not in the middle of a critical investigation that I’m interrupting.”

  “I’ll handle things.”

  “I’m sure you will.” Aidan didn’t miss a beat. “Do I have your permission to call your team members directly or do you need to speak with them first?”

  “Clearly what you’re working on is urgent. There’s no need to stand on ceremony. Call them. Tell them I gave you the okay. They’ll know to check in before they take off.”

  “Good enough.” Aidan paused. “I appreciate this, Casey. I know it’s tough as a leader to give an unconditional yes without knowing what you’re saying yes to.”

  “I trust you,” she replied. “And I respect you—two things I don’t offer easily or often. Good luck with whatever this is.”

  5

  San Francisco International Airport

  24 February

  Saturday, 1:30 p.m. local time

  Aidan was in a foul mood. He’d arrived here early only to find that his three p.m. flight had been canceled and he’d been rebooked on the next flight to JFK, scheduled for a six p.m. takeoff. That meant he wouldn’t walk into his apartment until some ungodly hour nearing dawn. Great. He didn’t give a damn about sleep; he could catch some on the plane. But Abby—he wouldn’t be able to give her even a quick kiss on her forehead. His little firecracker was the lightest of sleepers and required nothing more than several hours of slumber before she was refreshed enough to get up and go. One muffled footstep and she’d snap into wakefulness, ready to plunge into full active morning mode. And with her strep throat just under control, there was no way Aidan was rousing her before her little body clock went off.

  He’d stay in New York long enough to spend the morning with Abby. He could hardly wait to see her face when he told her his plans for the upcoming week. She’d probably shriek and run around in circles, grabbing her favorite dolls and stuffed animals—not to mention her Minnie Mouse ears—to pack. While she was doing that, he’d fill in Joyce, who he’d frantically called to return home from New Hampshire. The blessed woman was already on her way, having perceived this as one of Aidan’s true emergency situations. She’d be arriving soon—but not simply to relieve Marc and Maddy, as she undoubtedly expected.

  A grin tugged at Aidan’s lips as he contemplated Joyce’s reaction to the spur-of-the-moment vacation he’d be springing on her. As amazing a nanny as she was, the woman was past fifty and not about to jump up and down about spending a week in a can’t-catch-your-breath amusement park. But she’d be vastly relieved when he told her that Emma—who was young and energetic—would accompany them. It would all work out fine.

  Still, he’d have to double Joyce’s weekly salary—not out of ne
cessity but out of guilt.

  Once all his plans were in place, Aidan would grab a late-day flight to Munich, arriving there first thing in the morning, revved and ready to go. Marc would be flying there with him, even though he didn’t know it yet.

  Despite the superb dossiers Simone had provided him with, Aidan was looking forward to working with his brother, as well as Forensic Instincts as a whole. Over the course of working together on several cases, he’d developed both trust and respect for them. Tapping into their expertise was a smart move.

  Aidan made all three phone calls in rapid succession.

  “My fucking flight was canceled and I won’t be home until almost dawn,” he announced when Marc answered the phone. “Also, how’s my princess?”

  “She’s great,” Marc reassured him. “The penicillin kicked right in. Fever’s down. She’s in her room, reading a first-grade-level book to Maddy. She’s frighteningly brilliant—must take after Valèrie. Oh, and your apartment is still standing, but barely.”

  That rare tender smile reserved for Abby curved Aidan’s lips. “She is amazing—and Mensa material. How are you and Maddy holding up?”

  “Like soldiers.”

  “Good. I’m glad you’re up to par. Because I need you to fly to Munich with me tomorrow. I’ll be there for a day. But I need you, boots on the ground, for the good part of a week. I just talked to Casey. She approved all this.”

  Marc digested that thoughtfully. “Care to share?”

  “Not on the phone. We’ll talk when I get home. After that, you and Maddy head out and catch a few hours of sleep. You and I will take off tomorrow afternoon. I’ll find a way to tie the trip to Heckman Flax business. Melissa will make the reservations.”

  “You need me, I’m there.”

  “Thanks. I also need Emma and Ryan and am calling them next. Ryan can do his job from New York. Emma’s another story. She’s going to Disneyland with Abby.”

  Marc chuckled. “Sounds like fun. I hope you’re paying Emma for the week’s vacation she’ll need from her vacation.”

  “I’ll pay for the next vacation she takes. Destination of her choice, taken with the guy of her choice. Five-star all the way.”

  “Do Maddy and I get that, too?”

  “Sure. Tell Maddy to start researching her dream spots. She can take the guy of her choice, too.”

  “Very funny. I’ll let that fly because you’re in a piss-ass mood.”

  “Is that Daddy?” Abby’s voice called out from Marc’s side of the line.

  “It sure is,” he called back. “Wanna talk to him?”

  “Yes!” The sound of her racing feet reached Aidan’s ears.

  “Here’s your little genius,” Marc told Aidan. “See you soon.”

  Aidan heard muffled sounds as the phone was transferred.

  “Daddy?” Abby sounded giddy with joy, as if Aidan had been away for weeks rather than a day.

  “Hi, princess.” Aidan was getting used to that tight feeling in his chest whenever he had to speak to his daughter long-distance—which was far too often to suit his tastes. “Are you taking good care of Aunt Maddy and Uncle Marc?”

  “’Course. I hate my medicine. But Aunt Maddy gives me ice cream afterwards. My favorite flavor.”

  “Let me guess—pink cotton candy?”

  “Uh-huh. It feels cold and nice in my throat. It makes it stop hurting. It’s so pretty. And it tastes so good. I saved some for you. The container’s kind of messy now because Aunt Maddy let me use the scooper and I dripped. I wanted to lick the sides, but she said I couldn’t ’cause there might be germs.” Abby barely paused to catch her breath. “When are you coming home?”

  “I’ll be there when you wake up.” Aidan was grinning broadly by now. “And I have a surprise for you.” He heard her whoop with excitement. “But only if you promise to get a good night’s sleep.”

  That gave her pause. “How long a sleep?”

  “Until I come in and tickle you.”

  Abby gave an indulgent sigh. “Okay. But I can’t help it if I wake up before that. If I do, I’ll keep my eyes closed.”

  “Do that. And not just to fool me. To rest. Because you’re going to need lots of energy for my surprise.”

  Abby was still squealing and Aidan was still grinning when he hung up.

  Next call was to Emma.

  “Aidan?” She sounded more surprised by the call than Casey had. Then again, she was the most junior member of Forensic Instincts and the least likely for Aidan to reach out to. Having been orphaned at a young age, Emma had survived the foster care system only to hit the streets as an all-too-successful pickpocket. When she decided to get her act together, she’d applied for a job at FI and Casey had given her the chance of a lifetime. Now Emma was a far-more-mature, full-time team member.

  “Why are you calling?” she asked, her blunt candor almost as refreshing as Abby’s.

  “Because it’s time to pack,” he replied. “I need a week of your time and a ton of your energy. You’re going on a trip—if you’re willing. Casey’s given her okay.”

  “A trip?” Emma was audibly stunned. “To where? For what? Are you asking me to help with whatever secret thing it is you do? Am I going to be investigating with you?”

  Aidan gave an uncustomary chuckle. “You sound like Abby. Which is good. Because if you agree to this trip, you’re going to be spending a lot of time with her. To answer your questions, no, you’re not going to be investigating anything and, no, I’m not sharing work details with you. I will tell you that my job is taking me to California. I’ll be there for a week and I want Abby nearby. So I’d like to make provisions for her—along with you and Joyce Reynolds, Abby’s nanny—to spend that week in Disneyland. Joyce will do the mothering, you’ll do the theme park circuit. That work for you?”

  “Wow.” Emma sounded both excited and hesitant. “I’d love it. But with Abby…” She hesitated. “Even though I won’t take my eyes off of her, I’m terrified she’ll find a way to take off.”

  “That’s why Joyce will be there. Two pairs of eyes. Besides, I have a feeling that you’ll offer her enough fun things to do to hold her interest. And I’ll have a long talk with her before you go. I’ll also send Joyce with my credit card and a wad of cash for you to buy drinks for everyone on the flight out—a thank-you in advance for what they might have to put up with. I’ll make sure there’s enough money there for additional rounds if need be. Deal?”

  Emma was laughing. “Deal. When do we leave?”

  “Tomorrow, probably somewhere around dinnertime. I’ve got a quick international trip to make first, and I want to spend the morning with Abby before she and I take off in opposite directions. Once I’ve made the necessary arrangements, I’ll text you everything you need. You’ll meet Abby and Joyce at JFK. Abby’s recovering from strep throat, so I’m hoping she’ll sleep through part of the flight. I’ll be winging my way to California immediately following my meeting. And Emma? Thanks.”

  Aidan’s third call was a piece of cake. Ryan McKay, who rivaled Terri in his technology genius, was thrilled to be brought on board. He and Aidan had worked together before, but always on FI cases and never including any of the Zermatt team members other than Aidan himself. This was new and intriguing terrain for him. So, in his customary way, he asked question after question, all of which Aidan evaded, promising that his own brilliant IT colleague, Terri Underwood, would fill him in as needed.

  “What’s her background?” Ryan asked.

  “She’s the best. That’s all you need to know.”

  Ryan snorted. “You’re not going to tell me shit, are you?”

  “I won’t keep anything from you that could help you work on this investigation,” Aidan replied. “But you’re going to have to curb that nosy personality of yours. And you’re also going to have to learn to share. Terri is in charge here. You’re second-in-command on this. Think you can handle that?”

  “To work with you again, yeah, I can handle it.”


  “Good. Terri will contact you soon.”

  * * *

  Six days left…

  Munich, Germany

  25 February

  Sunday, 3:00 p.m. local time

  Philip Banks didn’t look like the retired MI6 agent that he was, nor like the crackerjack investigator who now comprised one of Zermatt’s core four. No, this afternoon, dressed in his well-worn jeans and half-zipped parka, messenger bag slung over his shoulder and cell phone poised for candids, he looked like a tourist visiting Munich, totally fascinated by Hofbräuhaus, the city’s largest and most historic pub.

  Precisely the image he was going for.

  Brows knit in apparent concentration, he refocused his phone, appearing to be snapping pictures in a Snapchat frenzy. In fact, he was actually running a special app that Terri had created, which mapped the visual, telemetric, and Wi-Fi data of the entire area around him. The data was captured and streamed real time to Terri in New York. At her end, Terri would be watching her computer systems as they analyzed the data and began to immediately search for nearby businesses, Wi-Fi networks, and security cameras. Philip was well aware that the process would take hours, but by penetrating the local networks, accessing the security and router logs, Terri would be able to tell exactly who had been present when Lauren was kidnapped.

  He’d spent the past day and a half conducting fieldwork—casually engaging employees, patrons, and even passersby to see if any of them remembered his “daughter” who’d been at Hofbräuhaus Friday afternoon with friends. No luck. And he had to be careful to keep his questions light and offhanded. He couldn’t come off as a creeper, and he couldn’t tip his hand and alert anyone to a “missing girl” scenario. Other than Zermatt and the Penningtons, no one knew about Lauren’s kidnapping, including and especially law enforcement. Philip intended to keep it that way.

  From the brewery, he’d trekked the mile to Ludwig Maximilian University, where Lauren was attending school during her junior year abroad. The campus was quiet, since winter break had just begun, but Philip was determined to check out some of the names Terri had plucked off Lauren’s cell history—names of friends she’d texted who wanted her to visit them during her hiatus from academia. If any of them had yet to leave campus, Philip would find them. And if any of them were already at home, he’d find them, too.