Running Strong Page 9

  “It doesn’t sound like she has much affection for your child. Why would—”

  “No.” She cut Dylan’s question off. “She has a great deal of affection for him. Or what passes for affection in her world. From the moment she saw him… I saw it, but I was grateful that she was so fond of him that I ignored the warning signals. She’s obsessed with him.”

  Raphael frowned at her words. “Any grandmother would be fond of her first grandchild.”

  She shook her head. “It was more than that. It was like she wanted to claim him as hers.”

  “And she wanted you out of the picture,” Dylan said.

  “Yes. I made a stupid mistake. I told them I was leaving and taking my son with me.”

  “I’m assuming that didn’t go over well.”

  “On the contrary. We were at dinner when I told them. They were calm. Said they supported whatever I decided to do. That we would be missed.” She gave a humorless laugh. “Clarissa even went so far as to say she hoped I would find a place close-by so she could see ‘the boy.’

  “The next morning, Joan, one of the maids, brought me coffee, as she had for as long as I’d lived there. I drank maybe three swallows and began to feel dizzy. I think, maybe, that was the first time they drugged me.”

  All of this sounded unbelievable, but it was obvious Giselle was convinced, and Raphael saw no reason to doubt her. Barely thirty-six hours ago, he sat across from Daniel Fletcher and was told Giselle was dead. Did he tell Raphael the lie with the hope that very soon it would be true?

  “How long did this go on?” Noah asked.

  “I don’t know exactly. It could have been weeks or only days. I’ve never fully regained my memory of that time. I have flashbacks…nightmares. I don’t know if they’re real or not. What I do know is that one morning I woke, semi-clearheaded, and discovered I was incarcerated.

  “I don’t know how long I was there. Maybe only a few weeks, but I have a feeling it was longer. I was drugged daily…remembered nothing. I only knew I didn’t belong there and needed to escape. Once I did…as soon as I was able, I went back to New York. I knew I couldn’t just show up at their house. They would have either had me carted away, or worse, but I needed to find out about my son.

  “Mavis Tenpenny is his nanny. I remembered that on her days off she often visited the cemetery where her parents are buried. I went to the cemetery every day until she showed up. I explained what happened. What the Fletchers did.”

  “She believed you,” Raphael asked.

  “I don’t know. I thought she did, but now I’m not sure. She was my only hope on getting news. I had to take the chance.”

  “What did you ask the nanny to do?” Dylan asked.

  “I wanted to know about my son. How he was. I wanted photographs. Any kind of information she could give me.”

  “You didn’t ask her to bring him to you?”

  “Of course I did, but she refused. I wasn’t surprised. She would be putting her career on the line, possibly her life. At that point, I had to settle for what I could get. Photographs and information.”

  “But you got more than that,” Noah said. “You got a recording of Fletcher telling Raphael that you were dead.”

  “Yes. The minute I watched it, I knew it was a ruse to get to me.”

  Raphael hadn’t thought she could get paler. The telling had taken a toll. He gave Noah a look that his boss correctly interpreted as, That’s enough for now.

  He came to stand in front of her. Noah and Dylan were behind him, each on his phone, barking out orders for intel on the Fletchers. He couldn’t take his eyes off Giselle. Her skin was so translucent, she looked as though she could keel over any moment.

  “I’ll be right back.” He strode out of the room and was back within a minute with a bottle of water. Opening the bottle, he handed it to her and watched her take small sips.

  “Better?”

  “Yes. Thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  The silence that followed was both uncomfortable and painful. He wanted to say more. He wanted to ask her why she hadn’t contacted him. Even though they’d ended badly, she had to know she could have come to him.

  “Are you happy?”

  Her softly worded question came out of left field and temporarily froze his brain.

  “Happy? Not sure what you mean.”

  “I mean…in your life. With LCR? Is it what you thought it would be?”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  “I’m glad.”

  She looked different but the same. Her dark brown eyes were still beautiful, but they used to glimmer with laughter. Now they were dull and lifeless. Her heart-shaped face had thinned out, making her cheekbones more prominent. Her lips were still full, but there were little lines around them, showing the tension and stress she was under. Her hair was much shorter, just brushing her shoulders. Years ago, it had reached the small of her back.

  She had suffered. There was no question about that.

  “Raphael…don’t.”

  “Don’t what?”

  “None of this is your fault.”

  She had always been able to read him. It bothered him that she still could. He’d been through hours of training on how to remove all emotion from his face. A part of him did feel guilty for not checking to make sure she was okay. Another part told him he had nothing to feel guilty about. She was the one who’d left him, not the other way around.

  He went on to a safer subject. “How old is your son?”

  “Almost four.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Giovanni.” A slight smile curved her lips. “Gio for short.”

  “I like it.”

  A brief flash of grief swept across her face. She quickly replaced it with the stoicism she’d displayed since she arrived. Giselle was no longer the innocent, naïve young woman he had once known. She was a mature woman…a mother, grieving for the loss of her son. And her husband.

  “I was sorry to hear about your husband’s death.”

  “Thank you.”

  He wanted to say more. He wanted to ask if he had been good to her. If she had loved him. Inappropriate questions and none of his damn business.

  “All right.” Noah’s voice called him back from things best not dwelled on.

  Straightening to his full height, he faced Noah, noting that at some point Dylan had left the room.

  “What’d you find out?”

  “Nothing and a lot, depending on how you look at it. As we figured, there is no death certificate on Giselle. I don’t know what Fletcher thought to gain by telling you she was dead, other than the hope that you’d leave it alone.”

  “Or buying them time to actually make it real,” Raphael said grimly.

  “Possibly.” Noah’s gaze went to Giselle. “Do you think your son is in any immediate danger?”

  “No. They won’t hurt him physically. But I’m worried…very worried about his emotional well-being.” She swallowed hard and continued, “I don’t know what they’ve told him about me. Not really. Mavis said he believes I’m on a long trip…a holiday. I cannot imagine what he’s thinking. He’s just a little boy. He doesn’t understand what’s going on.”

  “We’ll do everything we can to get him back for you,” Noah said.

  She pressed her fingers to her eyes and breathed out a long, sobbing sigh. “Thank you, Noah.” Collecting herself, she straightened her shoulders, lifted her chin. “Now, tell me what you need me to do to help you get your family back.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Giselle walked with Dylan to the parking lot. She was being taken to an LCR safe house. Noah had told her that his first order of business was to get her safely settled, away from anyone who might recognize her. She was feeling exposed and couldn’t deny the relief. The Fletchers could have spies everywhere.

  Raphael stayed behind. She told herself she was glad of that. Every ounce of her reserve had been used up. Facing him alone would be more than she could handle
right now. She needed some time to prepare herself again. She thought she’d done a good job of handling her emotions, but that could end at any moment. A few hours away from him would help prepare her for the next meeting.

  They weren’t friends any longer. Still, she had felt bereft, empty, the moment she’d walked out of the room without him. She snarled at those feelings now. This wasn’t a reunion to catch up with an old friend. She had ended their relationship the day she left him. Something he had acknowledged, and quite painfully, when he hadn’t returned her call. It was over—had been over for a long time.

  Her reason for calling him that day would have to be addressed soon. Would he regret not returning her call? She hoped he didn’t. Even though many things would be different now if he had, she was learning that regret was just another form of torture.

  She needed to focus on the positive. She finally had people who could help her. Highly trained operatives who rescued people on a daily basis. They had the skills to get her son back.

  She wasn’t ready to feel optimistic, wasn’t really sure there was any optimism left inside her. But there was a glimmer of hope. For right now, she would settle for that. It was much more than she’d had in a long time.

  She glanced toward her car. “I parked in the visitor lot across the street.”

  “We’ll have someone get your car for you later. For right now, let’s get you hidden.”

  Nodding, she followed him to a charcoal-gray Jeep Grand Cherokee not far from the entrance. Before she’d walked out of Noah’s hospital room, she had covered her hair again. Someone could be watching, waiting for her to come to Noah. She could take no chances. She had walked into the hospital as a man. Anyone watching would recognize her immediately. She couldn’t take the risk.

  With a sigh, Giselle settled into the front seat, but couldn’t make her body relax. Dylan’s demeanor wasn’t threatening, but his harsh expression hadn’t changed. When she had met him, he had been undercover as John Wheeler, an LCR operative working to bring her father to justice. He looked only slightly less dangerous now.

  As the Jeep moved out of the parking lot and onto the main road, she searched for something to say. Polite conversation often flummoxed her. Growing up with only her family to converse with had left her at a disadvantage when it came to everyday discussion. With the exception of today, her lengthiest exchange in months had been with a motel night clerk, and that had been about changing rooms because the heating didn’t work.

  “You could have called Jamie.”

  Startled at the break in silence, she jumped slightly. “What?”

  “Jamie would have helped you.”

  Yes, she would have. Without going into the gory and humiliating details, how could she explain what she had gone through? The weakness, the sickness. The extreme paranoia. After escaping from the hospital, she had lived with the fear that she really was crazy. She hadn’t trusted herself and was too afraid to trust anyone else.

  Having no choice, she had given what little trust she’d had left to the people who had cared for her. Without them, she wouldn’t have survived. They had gone a long way in reestablishing her belief that there were still good people in the world. But she had lost all confidence in being able to discern who those people were.

  When she’d finally regained her mind, and her strength somewhat, she had been physically better but without an ounce of confidence. Her only focus after that had been to get to her son.

  Knowing whatever she said wouldn’t settle anything, she said, “How is Jamie? Is she still teaching?”

  For the first time, she saw his expression change, soften. She knew Jamie and Dylan had married—that had happened not too long after her father’s arrest.

  “Doing great. Teaches part-time now. We’ve got two girls, four years old and seven months.”

  “That’s lovely.” And she meant that with all her heart. It was nice to know that some people did fall in love and live happily ever after. She had once believed in that for her and Raphael.

  “Raphael.” She swallowed. “Is he…um…married?”

  She hated to be so obvious, but she wanted to know. Needed the answer like she needed her next breath. She told herself it didn’t matter, not really. But she couldn’t allow herself a breath until she heard Dylan’s answer.

  “No. He’s not married.”

  She kept her face averted, her gaze focused out the window. She knew Dylan was looking at her, that he had questions. She was glad he didn’t ask. She didn’t have any answers.

  She had no right to be glad that Raphael wasn’t married. She had given up that right when she’d walked away from him. She should want him to be happy…settled. And she did.

  Still…

  ***

  Raphael paced the confines of Noah’s hospital room. He wouldn’t be able to settle again until he joined Giselle at the safe house. Just watching her walk out of the hospital room without him had been painful. He needed to make sure she was safe. But first, he and Noah needed to talk.

  “You believe her?” Raphael asked.

  “Yes and no. We knew Reddington has some major backing. Having Fletcher’s money and influence behind him would get him through doors he’d have no way of opening on his own.”

  “Which might explain how he got out of prison without anyone having a clear answer about why.”

  “Exactly.”

  “What’s the part of Giselle’s story you don’t believe?”

  “I’m not sure I disbelieve her as much as I think she’s holding back.”

  Raphael nodded. “I agree. She’s not telling us everything.”

  “I need you to find out what that is. She’s going to trust you more than anyone. If she’s going to help us get my family back, we need to know everything. And if we’re going to get her son back, we need everything she’s got on her in-laws. Why the hell do they hate her so much? Enough to want her dead?” Noah’s eyes narrowed into slits. “Think you can be objective?”

  The automatic answer that came to his mind was yes, of course, he could be objective. He was an LCR operative, trained to interrogate people, to ferret out secrets they didn’t want to give up. It was his job. But this was Giselle, the girl he’d once loved.

  Instead of answering right away, he took a moment for a gut check. Satisfied, he nodded. “Yeah, I can.”

  “Spend some time with her. The more we know, the better our chances of getting my family back without anyone getting hurt. Then we’ll concentrate on rescuing her son.”

  Before he could respond, the cellphone in front of Noah chimed. They both glanced at the display, noting the unidentified caller. Had to be Reddington. He hoped like hell the bastard was calling to move this thing forward.

  “McCall,” Noah answered.

  “Delightful to talk with you again, Mr. McCall.”

  “You ready to deal, Reddington?”

  “Do you have something to deal with?”

  “I do.”

  “Excellent. Perhaps you and I could satisfy a mutual need.”

  “LCR isn’t in the habit of bartering one life for another, Reddington. You know I can’t give your family back to you, right?”

  “That’s not my intent. I’m sure you know I’m ill, likely only have a few months left. But it would give me such joy to see them one last time.”

  Raphael barely refrained from an eye roll at Reddington’s overdramatic speech. The bastard was enjoying himself. The idiot thought he was in control. Playing it his way until Noah’s family was back safely was the only way to go. Once they were within LCR’s grasp, the tables would be turned. Reddington wouldn’t know what hit him.

  “Where and when?” Noah said.

  Reddington’s voice, formerly soft and mellow, went hard. “I’ll make the arrangements. I would hate to be disappointed, McCall.”

  “You won’t be.”

  “I’ll be in touch.”

  Snarling a vicious curse, Noah dropped the phone on the table in front of him
before he could throw it across the room. Fury zoomed through his veins. Closing his eyes, he searched for the famous control he was known for. He and Mara had been through rough times, absolute hell. They had survived then, they would survive now. No son of a bitch bastard freak was going to destroy his family. They were counting on him to rescue them, and he damn well would not let them down.

  “Noah?”

  Resolved, calmer, he opened his eyes. “Let’s get everyone ready. When he calls with the location, I want everything in order. Get it started. Then get what else you can from Giselle.”

  Raphael gave a solemn nod and walked out the door. Noah blew out a ragged sigh. He didn’t like using anyone other than LCR operatives. Putting an innocent in danger went against everything LCR stood for, and if Giselle was right, this entire elaborate scenario had been done to draw her out of hiding. If that was the case, after this was over, he would not rest until he dug up every speck of dirt on Daniel Fletcher.

  Did Reddington realize he had set up his own daughter to be murdered? Noah had long ago stopped being surprised at the shit people did to one another. The very reason he’d started LCR was to help people who got caught up in other people’s evil deeds. But if Reddington had agreed to this with the full knowledge that his daughter would die, Noah had to admit even he was shocked.

  Either way, Giselle would be protected. This he swore.

  Focusing on what needed to be done had kept his mind from going to what Mara and his children were going through. He tried to tell himself that now that he knew Reddington wanted to make a trade, his family for Noah’s, they were being treated well. But he didn’t know that. Lying to himself wasn’t his thing, but he had no choice. If he started thinking anything else, he wouldn’t be able to focus on getting them back.

  He stared at the door and thought about the young man who’d just left. This was rough on him, too. Raphael was part of the McCall family. He was hurting, worried. And now the girl who’d broken his heart was back in his life. How that would play out, he didn’t know. Raphael had exceeded every expectation Noah had had for him. He was an exceptional man in every way, but it was Raphael Sanchez’s heart that Noah admired the most. Yes, he could be ruthless and had a stubborn streak a mile long, but Raphael had a heart for rescue unlike anyone he’d ever hired. In fact, he reminded Noah of himself.