After Midnight Page 3

  The two women were on foot—neither of them had felt like navigating a vehicle through the maze of streets in bumper-to-bumper traffic. The safe house Aswad had mentioned was located in a rundown building in one of the poorer neighborhoods of the city, and as they headed toward it, Abby sensed her former boss’s blue-eyed gaze boring a hole into the side of her face.

  “You lied to Jim,” Noelle remarked. “Why?”

  She’d wondered when the other woman would broach the subject. Noelle hadn’t said a word about it when they’d left the hotel in one of the beat-up Jeeps, but Abby had felt the curiosity radiating from that petite-but-deadly body.

  “Because he was already on edge,” she said tightly. “I didn’t feel like pissing him off further by admitting that you showed up without my permission.” Aggravation clamped around her throat. “I told you it didn’t need to be done in person. I asked you to dig into any property records filed under Nazara’s name—you could have done that from Paris. So now I’m going to ask you the same thing Morgan did: what the fuck are you doing here?”

  The blonde offered a cryptic look, followed by an even more cryptic response. “You said a lot of things on the phone, Abby. I’m here because of the things you didn’t say.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  Rather than answer the question, Noelle cocked her head at the building up ahead. “That’s our destination. Let’s do a quick sweep.”

  Swallowing her frustration, Abby nodded and let Noelle take the lead. They circled the building beforehand, running into a group of laughing, barefoot children in the alley behind it then a bearded man who tried to peddle knockoff jewelry on them.

  Once they determined the area was clear, they rounded the building and ascended the rickety steps to the entrance. Somewhere up above, the smell of tobacco drifted out of an open window, mingling with the traces of car exhaust and spices already permeating the muggy air.

  They walked right through the unlocked, paint-chipped front door, entering a lobby that reeked of urine, smoke, and rotting food. Abby tried not to breathe as she followed the other woman to the stairwell, keeping her hand on the small of her back in case she needed to draw her weapon.

  They climbed ten flights to the top floor and emerged into a hallway that smelled even worse than the lobby. The blistering heat didn’t help, and Abby’s chest was beaded with sweat by the time they reached the door at the end of the hall.

  Neither of them spoke as they withdrew their pistols. Noelle cocked her head in a silent signal. Abby responded with a nod.

  Noelle reached for the doorknob.

  It fell off in her hand.

  Abby almost laughed at the sheer disgust that filled those ice-blue eyes, but she hid her amusement when Noelle tossed another signal her way. With another jerk of the head, Abby stepped to the side.

  She adjusted the grip on her weapon as Noelle gave a silent count. Three seconds later, her old boss charged forward and kicked open the door with a loud crash. The cheap, aging wood toppled right off the hinges, causing Noelle to curse under her breath as she shot forward to grab hold of the broken door and prop it up against the wall.

  This time Abby took the lead. She ventured into the tiny apartment and checked the first doorway on the right, then murmured, “Clear.”

  They moved in opposite directions to conduct a sweep. Which took all of five seconds, because the apartment was the size of a shoe box.

  Noelle ducked into the sole bedroom in the back, then returned to the closet-size living room, annoyance etched on her face. “Nobody’s here.” Her gaze moved to the plastic coffee table, which was piled with plates of rotted food and a couple of ashtrays overflowing with stale cigarette butts. “From the looks of it, nobody’s been here for a while.”

  Abby wrinkled her nose at the clutter, but it was the stench that made her stomach roil. She couldn’t believe the other tenants hadn’t lodged a complaint yet, but then again, the whole building smelled bad, so one rank apartment probably didn’t make much of a difference.

  She drifted over to the window and cranked it open, welcoming the rush of air that streamed into the room. Her stomach still felt unsettled, though, and she suddenly wondered if maybe it was . . . No. She swiftly banished the scary thought, distracting herself from the nausea by peering out the window, past the rooftops until her gaze landed on the historic Khan Khalili market. Hundreds of stalls, shops, and tables made up the marketplace, a labyrinth of narrow alleys that someone could easily get lost in—or get abducted from. Kathy Aberdeen’s son had been snatched from one of those alleys, right under the vigilant watch of his bodyguards. A somber reminder that you were never as safe as you thought you were.

  Behind her, Noelle was calling Kane with a report. Technically that was Abby’s job, but the queasiness had caused her to drop the ball.

  “They’re not here. Any luck on your end?” Noelle paused. “Got it. See you boys later.”

  Abby turned away from the window to look at Noelle, who gave the quick shake of her head. “They struck out too. Your hubby wants us to check out the next site.”

  With a nod, she headed for the door, but Noelle’s voice stopped her in her tracks.

  “Are you cheating on Kane?”

  Shock slammed into her. She spun around to face the other woman, her jaw falling open when she realized Noelle was dead serious. Amused, even. “What? Of course not!”

  The blonde just watched her. And kept watching. Abby knew that piercing, emotionless stare scared the shit out of some people, but it had never scared her. She couldn’t quite explain it, but she understood Noelle. And she’d thought Noelle understood her.

  Which was why the question left her genuinely bewildered.

  “Seriously, why the hell would you say that?” she demanded.

  To her surprise, Noelle slunk over to the tattered sofa and lowered her lithe body onto it. She rested her gun on her thigh and looked over with a lazy expression. “Honey, the second I heard your voice I knew something was wrong. And when I asked how your deliciously sexy husband is doing, you got real quiet. Sounded to me like you were tiring of him.” She tipped her head pensively. “Though I can’t say I blame you. You know how I feel about happily ever after—it’s a nice fairytale, at least until the evil ogre shows up and slaughters everyone in the story.”

  “Trust me, I’m very familiar with your pessimism,” Abby said darkly. “But I’m not cheating on my husband.” Irritation prickled her spine. “I’m pissed and insulted you could even think that.”

  “Since when do you care what I, or anyone else, think of you?” Noelle smirked in challenge. “Are you on your period or something?”

  Anger bubbled over and came out as a roar. “No, I’m not on my fucking period!”

  “Oh, relax, honey. Fine, you’re not screwing someone on the side. My mistake.”

  Abby scowled, still floored by the accusation that had nonchalantly been tossed her way.

  Noelle rose from the couch and tucked her weapon under her waistband at the small of her back. “Well, I guess I came all this way for nothing. Or maybe not—it’s been a while since I’ve had the chance to toy with Jim. Do you still want me to stick around and help out with this kidnapping thing?”

  Abby nodded tersely.

  “And you’re sure there’s nothing you want to talk to me about?”

  The knowing glimmer in those blue eyes unnerved her, but it was the offer to talk that gave her pause. She didn’t usually confide in anyone other than Kane or Isabel, but . . . about this potential pregnancy? She was reluctant to share her fears with either of them. Isabel would be overjoyed by the prospect of a baby, and she’d encourage Abby to be happy about it too.

  Kane . . . well, he would be equally thrilled. And why shouldn’t he? He came from a perfect family, raised by parents who adored him. His early life hadn’t been tainted by v
iolence the way hers had.

  But Noelle . . . the woman knew all about crappy childhoods. Hell, maybe she was the perfect person to discuss this with.

  “Do you want kids?” Abby asked.

  Noelle blinked at the sudden inquiry, then chuckled softly. “You’re pregnant.”

  “No,” she blurted out. “I mean, maybe. I don’t know.”

  Something akin to helplessness tightened her throat. Control was her middle name, and yet right now, she felt like she was freefalling without a parachute. No way of controlling where she’d land.

  “I’m late,” she admitted. “But I haven’t taken the test yet.”

  Noelle raised one light-blond eyebrow. “I’m assuming Mr. Sinclair doesn’t know?”

  “No, I haven’t told him yet. I . . . I’m . . . scared.” Confessing that was the hardest thing she’d ever done, which was damn ironic coming from a woman who could kill at the blink of an eye.

  Noelle’s reaction didn’t ease her nerves, either. The woman actually laughed, as if she found the entire situation comical.

  “Abby Sinclair, scared? Oh, honey, I trained you better than that.” The mocking tone faded as Noelle pursed her lips in thought. “You’re worried you’ll screw up the kid’s life, huh?”

  Surprise jolted through her. “Why, is that what you’d worry about? Screwing up your children?”

  “I won’t be having any children.”

  The swift, confident reply made her frown. “Why not?”

  “Because no child deserves a fucked-up bitch like me for a mother.”

  Abby bit her lip. “I . . .” Pain clogged her throat. “I don’t know if I can keep it.”

  “There may not be anything to keep.” Her old boss offered a careless shrug. “Take the fucking test, honey.”

  “I am. I mean, I will. I just . . . don’t know . . . when.” God. She was stammering, but she was too damn distressed to feel embarrassed about it.

  Noelle pointed to the bathroom. “How about now?”

  Abby had to roll her eyes. “You don’t just go pee and then a voice from above announces whether or not you’re knocked up. You need the damn stick.”

  “You mean this one?” Noelle reached her arm around. For a second Abby thought the woman was going for the gun, but to her extreme shock, Noelle’s hand came back with a narrow cardboard box that she mockingly waved in front of Abby’s face.

  The same pink box she’d stashed in her duffel.

  Her mouth fell open in indignation. “You’re fucking kidding me! You went through my stuff?”

  A hint of a smile graced the other woman’s lips.

  “How?” Abby blurted out. “You just got here this morning.”

  “Last night, actually,” Noelle said smugly. “I waltzed right into your room while you and hubby were snuggled under the covers. You disappoint me, Abby. Again, I trained you better than that. Which raises the question—what the hell kind of amateur Scooby Doo team does Jim run? In the three years he’s had you, he’s totally stripped away everything I taught you.”

  Ignoring the rant, Abby snatched the pregnancy test, still furious. And mortified. And confused again.

  “Why the pretense then?” she muttered. “Why ask if I’m cheating and then pretend to be surprised that I’m late when you knew the whole time what this was about?”

  “You know me, I never pass up an opportunity for some good, old-fashioned deception.” Noelle grinned. “Do you need me to pull your pants down for you and offer encouragements while you pee?”

  “Fuck you.”

  “We don’t have all day, Abby. Get this over with already so we can get out of this hellhole.”

  Despite the anger still coursing through her veins, she clenched her teeth and headed toward the small bathroom, clutching the box so tight the cardboard began to bend. She relaxed her grip, shut the door behind her, then inhaled deeply.

  As she tore open the cardboard and pulled out the plastic white stick, she nearly backed out, but knowing Noelle was on the other side of the door rendered that impossible. She got the feeling the woman would hold her down and force her take the test if she didn’t do it herself.

  Her heart had never pounded so fast, drumming out a frantic beat as she quickly read the test instructions. The toilet looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in years, so she grabbed handfuls of toilet paper and laid them out around the seat before reluctantly lowering herself down.

  A minute later, the stick sat on the dirty counter. She busied herself by washing her hands, but time seemed to have come to a torturous standstill, and two minutes suddenly felt like eternity.

  Wiping her hands on the front of her pants, she left the stick on the counter and stumbled out of the bathroom. Noelle was waiting outside the door, just as she’d expected. A questioning brow cocked up.

  “Another minute left,” Abby mumbled.

  God, she didn’t want to know the answer. A huge part of her wanted the test to be negative, but then she thought about Kane and what a good father he’d be, and her resolve wavered. No, Kane would be a great father. He was strong, intelligent, honorable, loving, tender . . . he possessed a million wonderful qualities that made him the perfect candidate for fatherhood.

  But what did she have to offer? Would she teach their child to kill someone? To wield a knife? To shut down emotionally whenever things got too rough?

  Kane brought out her softer side, but she wasn’t sure it was soft enough for a baby. She couldn’t envision herself cuddling and cooing and lavishing attention on a child. Sure, maybe her maternal instincts would kick in once the doctor put that newborn in her arms—but what if they didn’t?

  “Minute’s up.” Noelle’s mocking voice broke through her terrified thoughts.

  Abby’s throat closed up again, and she was embarrassed to realize she was near tears. “I can’t do it. Will you . . . can you . . . go in there and look for me?”

  Noelle grumbled with impatience. “I never took you for a pussy, Sinclair.” Then she marched into the bathroom.

  She was gone for all of five seconds. When she returned, her face revealed nothing. Not a single hint as to what she’d found.

  Gulping, Abby met those expressionless eyes and said, “Well?”

  Chapter Four

  Later that evening, Morgan hung up the phone and turned to the group with a grim look. “That was Special Agent Riggs. They’ve agreed to an exchange with Nazara. Five million for the boy.”

  Kane had been taking a catnap on one of the twin beds in Morgan’s suite, but at the boss’s report, he shot into a sitting position, instantly alert. “When is it?”

  “Six a.m. tomorrow. At the market. Nazara wants it done in a public place, and he won’t budge on the location.”

  Kane hopped off the mattress and made a beeline for the kitchenette, grabbing the pot from the cheap coffeemaker to pour himself a cup. Abby and Noelle were seated at the table, going over the list of associates Aswad had given them, but they hadn’t connected a single name to the abduction. The four of them had spent the entire day and evening visiting every potential safe house where Nazara could be stashing Tommy Aberdeen, all to no avail. They’d run out of places to check and people to talk to, and now it looked like the task force had given up on finding leads too.

  Noelle sounded annoyed by the plan Morgan had outlined. “It’ll be impossible to get a perimeter set up. Too many people, too many alleys to hide in. The market is a damn maze.” She leaned back in her chair with a smug look. “Besides, we all know there won’t be an exchange. Nazara’s not stupid—he won’t bring the boy. The second he gets his cash, he’ll order one of his thugs to kill the kid.”

  “I know.” Morgan’s tone was laced with displeasure, as if he hated agreeing with the woman even for a second.

  The two of them had been exchanging enigmatic words and derisive barbs all evenin
g, which had seriously grated on Kane’s nerves. A part of him wished they’d just get it over with and sleep together. There was no doubt in his mind, especially after watching their interactions today, that a good, hard fuck would do wonders for the pair.

  Or at the very least, it might shut them up for a while.

  “Which is why we need to find Nazara tonight, before the exchange ever takes place,” Morgan added.

  Kane chugged his coffee and poured another cup, desperately needing the caffeine to jump-start his brain. “Riggs still can’t trace the calls? What the fuck are they doing over there?”

  “Nazara’s smart. He only calls from payphones,” Morgan said flatly. “He stays on the line for no more than ten seconds, then moves to a different phone, delivers another piece of information, and hangs up.”

  Abby joined the conversation, sounding as frustrated as they all felt as she gestured to the papers in front of her. “There are no leads here, Jim.” Along with Noelle, she was one of the rare people who ever used his given name, which always reminded Kane that they had a history. Abby’s adoptive father had been Morgan’s commanding officer in the Rangers, and Morgan had known her since she was a teenager. “Most of these people are dead or living abroad.”

  “There has to be another safe house,” Morgan muttered. “A childhood home, a vacation spot. Somewhere Nazara would feel safe.” His tone became accusatory as he glanced at his nemesis. “I’m surprised your magical list of informants hasn’t produced anything yet.”

  “Good intel takes time.” Her blue eyes gleamed. “But waiting positively kills you, doesn’t it? God forbid the whole world doesn’t bend over backwards to give you what you want. That silver spoon you were born with really did a number on you, huh, Jim?”

  Morgan’s features hardened. “Call your fucking people again, Noelle. Get us something we can use.”

  Kane saw the brief flicker of amusement in the blonde’s expression. It was clear she enjoyed the verbal sparring sessions. Morgan, on the other hand, looked like he wanted to murder her each time she opened her mouth.