Beautifully Broken (The Broken Series Book 2) (14 page)

Michael
chuckled. “The Mona Lisa always draws a crowd. You really seemed to enjoy
Monet’s work. Would you like to see the gardens that inspired his paintings?”

I
stopped abruptly. “Those gardens still exist?”

Michael
nodded. “Yes, of course. The gardens are in Giverny, just outside Claude
Monet’s home. It is a bit of a drive, but I can easily arrange a tour of the
gardens.”

I
threw my arms around his neck. “Thank you, Michael! I would love to go there.”

Michael
looked surprised by the hug. Then, in complete disregard for the thousands of people
milling around us, he yanked me back into his arms and kissed me long and hard.
I could barely stand by the time he was done kissing me.

Rafael
tried not to laugh as I fought to regain my composure.

Michael
wrapped his arm around my waist and navigated me toward the car. “Where would
you like to go next?”

“The
Eiffel Tower,” I responded breathlessly. I felt like I was raiding a coffee
shop. There were so many places to choose from. I knew I’d eventually need
Michael’s help sorting through the options, but on this day, at least, I had
some control over what I was doing.

The
Eiffel Tower was less than fifteen minutes away. Jean and Rafael bypassed the
long line at the base of the Eiffel Tower and engaged in some negotiations with
the man running the elevators.  Somehow, they managed to ensure the four of us
were in the very next elevator alone.

The
Eiffel Tower was far taller than I had imagined and surprisingly windy at the
top. Michael easily located his house. He identified a number of landmarks for
me as we peered over each side of the observation deck.

Later
that night, I sat captivated by Michael’s stories about the culture and history
of France. We sipped on wine and ate Nicoise Salad in our usual place by the
fire. The salad was an incredible concoction of tuna, tomatoes, green beans,
capers, baby potatoes, sliced red onion, hard boiled eggs, and small buttery
tasting black olives, which were decoratively displayed on a bed of butter
lettuce.

We
didn’t climb into bed until we had finished the entire bottle of wine. I shared
stories from my time in the U.S. Senate while indulging Michael in his request
for a back massage. When I grew too tired to continue the massage, Michael propped
himself on one arm and drew intricate designs on my back with his fingers.

“Can
I ask you something?” I inquired sleepily. The question niggling at my mind was
the one thing preventing me from falling asleep.

“
Bien sûr
,
mon coeur.
You can ask me anything,” Michael murmured as he continued
drawing on my back.

“When
you were buying all of these things for me…” I paused nervously, suddenly
afraid to ask.

“Hmmm?”
Michael responded, completely lost in his ministrations.

“…did
you happen to purchase birth control?” I winced as I asked the question. I had
been on birth control in Virginia and had already missed days of the little
white pills.

Michael’s
hand stilled. He rolled me over onto my back, then blanketed my body with his.
He captured my face with both of his hands and gazed into my eyes.

My
breath caught. My entire body clenched, then flooded with heat as his body hardened
against mine. I silently cursed all three glasses of wine.

Michael’s
eyes searched mine. “
Non,
ma chérie.
There will be no birth
control. I dream of having
bébés
with you. Don’t you
want children?”

My
heart came to an abrupt stop. “Yes,” I admitted warily. “But I would prefer to
be married before I start having babies.”

Michael
smiled. “We can be married tomorrow.”

I
stilled, knowing I was on dangerous ground. “Michael, I’m not ready to be
married.”

Michael’s
smile widened. “We won’t marry until you’re ready, but there will be no birth
control. On this I will not negotiate.” Michael kissed me before I could argue
the point further. “
Mon coeur
, you need to leave this to God. He will
decide when we have
bébés
.”

I
tried not to panic as my stomach fell out of the bed and rolled across the
floor. I had completely forgotten that Michael was Catholic. We stopped short
of having sex in Montana because he didn’t have a condom. I hadn’t realized he
wasn’t carrying one because he didn’t believe in birth control.

Michael
offered me a chaste kiss before rolling over and tucking my back against his
chest. “
Bonne nuit, mon amour.
Sleep well.”

Sleep
well…
I thought, darn well near hysterics. There would be
no sleeping
well
. That much I did know. My brain went around and around
this new development and the consequences of having sex with Michael. I had
decided to give this man everything he wanted, never in a million years
thinking that might involve a child.

Kadyn
was sitting at a small wicker table outside the Carlyle Grand. He often brought
Kri here for breakfast on Saturdays. It was a gloriously sunny day with very
little humidity, which was quite rare for June. He hardly noticed. Instead, he
watched all the other people around him going about their lives. They were talking
about everything and nothing; and they were laughing, happy to be with the
people they loved. Kadyn closed his eyes as he tried to block out their happiness.

“Hi,
Kadyn.”   

Kadyn
opened his eyes. He smiled thinly at Mickey as he rose from his chair. “Hi, Mickey.
Thanks for coming.”

They
made small talk until the waitress stopped by to take their order. Once
Mickey’s coffee arrived, Kadyn shifted the conversation. “Mickey, I was hoping
we could go back over what happened the day that Kri was kidnapped.”

Mickey
looked down at her coffee cup as she stirred in sugar and cream.

Kadyn
cleared his throat and continued apologetically. “I’m sorry. I know it’s
difficult to relive what happened, but I can’t help but think we might be
missing something… something that might give us some clue where Michael would
have taken her.”

Mickey
took a sip of coffee. She exhaled softly as she set the cup back on the table.
She glanced briefly at Kadyn before fixing her gaze on the cup. “I came into
work early. It was an hour before we normally opened, so I was the only one
there. I had to pull some lease papers together for a new resident, who wanted to
swing by and sign them before work. Michael walked in when I was in the storage
room getting a new ream of paper for the copy machine. I recognized him
immediately from the picture Kri gave me last October.”

Mickey
looked down at her hands, which were now visibly shaking. “He said there were a
number of car bombs at the Pentagon that were set to go off. He showed me a
small black cell phone that looked nothing like the kind we use around here. He
said he would detonate the bombs and kill you and thousands of other people if
I didn’t do as he said.”

Kadyn
nodded, encouraging her to continue.

“Before
we left the lease office he made me memorize the message I gave you. He forced
me to get the master key and some duct tape. He held me by the arm as we walked
to Kri’s apartment. We didn’t pass a single person on the way. You know how
short the distance is between her place and the front office. I was hoping she
had already left for work, but she was in the shower when we arrived. I tried
to yell, to warn her, but Michael covered my mouth and threatened to blow up
the Pentagon again. That’s when he put the duct tape on my mouth, my wrists,
and ankles.”

Kadyn
stood and moved his chair so he could sit next to Mickey. Her entire body was
shaking. He wrapped his arm around her and offered his napkin so she could wipe
her tears. “Did he go into the bathroom?”

Mickey
sniffled softly. “I don’t know. I couldn’t see the hallway from where I was
sitting. I didn’t hear the shower running when he went back there. I think she
was done with her shower by then.”

Kadyn
rubbed his hand down Mickey’s arm as he tried to ease her trembling. “Did you
hear them talking?”

Mickey
nodded. “Bits and pieces. I was trying not to cry so I could hear, but I was so
scared. He said some things in French. I heard her refuse to go with him. Then I
heard him tell her about the Pentagon.” Mickey reached for her coffee.

Kadyn
watched silently as she took a sip.

After
a few seconds, Mickey continued. “Kri looked so scared when I saw her. She
reached for me, but Michael yanked her away.”

Kadyn’s
jaw clenched. He hadn’t thought for a second that Kri had waltzed out of the
place, but he hated hearing that Michael had manhandled her.

Mickey
took another sip of coffee. “I think she was just trying to buy some time, but Kri
said something about needing to pack.” Mickey’s eyes narrowed as she tried to recall
Kri’s exact words. “She said, ‘if we need my passport, then I’m going to need
clothes.’ Michael didn’t let her pack anything. He told her he had enough money
to buy whatever she needed.”

Kadyn
smiled. “A passport, huh?”

Mickey
nodded. “Yes. I’m sure she mentioned a passport.”

Kadyn
and Mickey stopped talking as the waitress delivered their food. Kadyn returned
his chair to the other side of the table and immediately dove into his ham and
cheese omelet. It was the first real meal he’d eaten since Kri disappeared. “Would
you be willing to call Captain Graves and let him know you remembered this
conversation about the passport? It’s very important.”

Mickey
looked up from her French toast, which was practically floating in syrup. “Of
course. I’m sorry I didn’t remember this sooner. I didn’t realize the passport
was so important. I was so focused on remembering the message, it was hard to
think of anything else.”

Kadyn
patted Mickey’s hand. “You remembered it. That’s what matters.”

Kadyn
walked Mickey to her car when they finished eating. He called Phil as he walked
back to his motorcycle.

“Hey,
Kadyn. What’s up?”

“I
think I’ve found a way to get the feds back on the case. I just finished
talking with Mickey, and she remembers Kri saying something about needing a
passport.”

“Well,
that should help. It certainly increases the likelihood that he took her out of
the country.” Kadyn heard a car door shut as Phil paused. “I’ve been searching
passenger lists from commercial flights that departed out of Reagan, Dulles,
and BWI over the past few days. So far, Kri’s name hasn’t popped up. I’m still
working my way down the list of Michael Garcia’s that flew out of our area the
day of the incident. I tried to look into private jets, but I hit a road block.
Apparently, there’s a loophole in the TSA security regulations for private
jets, which means the government doesn’t require the vetting of pilots or
passengers on private jets.”

Kadyn
stopped just short of his motorcycle. “You have got to be kidding me!”

Phil
sighed. “No. Unfortunately, I’m not. There always seems to be a loophole for
people who have money.”

Kadyn
shook his head. “Mickey heard Garcia saying he had enough money to buy Kri whatever
she needed. This guy just might have the means to fly her out of here on a
private jet.”

Phil
groaned. “I hope you’re wrong on that count, my friend, because if he did, our
odds of finding her just went from slim to none.”

Kadyn
tried to remain optimistic as he disconnected the call. The passport would
ensure the feds’ involvement in the case, which was what he’d wanted all along.
Kadyn swung his leg over his bike. He settled into the seat and scrolled
through his list of contacts for one last call.

“Hey,
Kadyn. Feel up to coming over for breakfast? Roger is cooking steak and eggs,”
Cenia answered cheerily.

“Thanks,
Cenia. I already ate. I just wanted to check in to see if you had any luck with
those reporters yesterday.”

Cenia
sighed. “I spoke with both reporters. They refused to talk unless I spilled the
reason why I was asking about Garcia. I’m still trying to reach the person who
wrote the op ed piece that suggested a connection between Garcia and that
terrorist group in Eastern Europe.”

Kadyn
scowled as he kicked the stand up on his Aprilia with the heel of his boot.
“That’s not exactly the news I was hoping for, but thanks for trying, Cenia. I’m
taking my bike out for a little while so I can clear my head. Mind if I swing by
afterwards?”

“Not
at all. Roger and I should be here all day. Why don’t you plan on joining us
for dinner?”

“Sounds
good. I’ll see you soon.” Kadyn ended the call. He slid the phone into his back
pocket before tugging the helmet over his head. He turned the ignition key and
eased the sleek black racing bike away from the curb, determined to find some
open road.