'I could use the Dunhill jet . . . for greater flexibility. And I am hesitant to take advantage of my flying privileges with the syndicate's aircraft.' Jasmine raised her chin. 'The local military police were less than cooperative. It seems corruption is a way of life down there.'
'I bet that offended your genteel sensibilities.' Mumbling under her breath, Raven made her feelings known, as if there might be some doubt.
Ignoring her, Jasmine continued, 'I didn't know whom to trust. A local police captain shadowed my every move. And believe me, that is not an easy feat. Someone is covering up the whole thing and discrediting me in the process. I no longer have resources of my own. And I am afraid Nicky will forfeit his life for my failure.'
'Even if I believed you . . .' Christian fell back against the leather couch, frustration tainting his mood. He shook his head. 'I don't have access to that kind of money, Jasmine.'
'No, but your mother does. I believe Fiona would help if she knew what happened to Nicky.' She averted her eyes and spoke softly. 'It is my belief they still care deeply for each other . . . even after all these years.'
Glaring at Jasmine, he narrowed his eyes in doubt, then found comfort in Raven's loving gaze. Severing ties with Fiona had been painful enough, but to go back to her now was nearly unthinkable. Still, a life hung in the balance. Would he really have a choice?
'Even if I can get the money, you're suggesting we conduct our own search and rescue mission before the funds are wired. Is that it?'
'Yes. And I am certain since the kidnapping took place at the Hotel Palma Dourada in Cuiaba, it must have been an inside job. It was too perfectly executed to think otherwise. We could start there. Between you and I, we would split up, stay one step ahead of the local law. We can trust no one.'
'I'll say. Christian, this doesn't add up.' Raven turned and placed a hand on the nape of his neck, stroking his hair. 'From the way she's talking, this is one big conspiracy—from the local sheriff to the bellhop and the maid. And let's not forget Charboneau's lawyer too. Hell, I'm sure we can trace this all back to the suspicious creation of the blue M&M and the government cover-up of the alien autopsy at Area 51. Are you really buying all this?'
Raven had a good point, despite her vivid conspiracy analogies. On the surface, Jasmine's story had major holes in logic. It should have been a simple equation. Number one, the kidnappers would want a ransom. Number two, the local law should have been hot after the bad guys. And number three, Charboneau's lawyer should have earned his high-priced retainer by arranging for the funds to be wired. Yet according to Jasmine, only the ransom had been demanded by the kidnappers, nothing more. Something didn't add up.
'Unless someone doesn't want him to make it out of Brazil alive. It might be pretty convenient to get rid of him and blame it on the local cottage industry of corporate executive kidnapping.' He threw his theory out for consideration, then turned his gaze toward Jasmine. 'Why was Charboneau in Brazil?'
A flicker crossed Jasmine's eyes. He knew in an instant that whatever response she contemplated would be a fraction of the truth.
'Once or twice a year, he travels there. He generously funds a genetics research facility. He is a benevolent man.' She'd answered his question, yet he knew she held something back.
He wasn't surprised that Raven didn't buy Jasmine's act.
'Let me take a stab at translating this for you, Christian,' Raven offered. 'She says Charboneau's involved with a charitable venture in South America. I see an opportunity to launder funds in a foreign country . . . and no doubt tax benefits for his corporation to boot. But I bet that's not all. Hell, I wish I got this much spin out of my washing machine. Ever think about a career in politics?'
'I am only his bodyguard,' Jasmine replied, pretending to be insulted. 'I cannot respond to such an inference.' If the situation were not so grave, he might have seen the humor in her indignation—an assassin who draws the line at associating with known tax evaders.
'Yeah, right.' Raven crossed her arms and tilted her head, her facial expression mocking the woman's reply. 'With that song and dance, you should take your act on the road. In fact, I insist.'
'Why Brazil?' Christian asked. 'Genetics research is conducted in the United States too.'
'Maybe Charboneau doesn't like all the pesky laws we have in the good old U.S. of A.,' Raven speculated.
Jasmine ignored her insinuation, but not without a steely glare. 'The rain forests and marshlands of the nearby Pantanal serve as a virtually untapped resource for new medicines . . . which is an offshoot of the research of Nicky's facility. I have heard him speak of this often.'
'Yeah. He sounds like a real humanitarian,' Raven interjected. 'Maybe the local natives got restless. They found out what he was doing and are asking for a million dollars in retribution. And who's to say, once the ransom is paid, Charboneau won't be killed anyway, to stop his plundering of their natural resources?'
Christian had to admit Raven's points made sense.
'My only concern is for Nicky,' Jasmine said. 'I cannot sit back and do nothing. I need to know your answer, Christian.' Before he responded, she added, 'But know this, if you turn me down, I will find a way to fly back there on my own. I will not leave him to those jackals.'
'Very commendable sentiments, but I need time to think. I won't be pressured.' He had a lot to consider. And how much would he trust Jasmine's version of the truth? He didn't have many ways to verify it, especially without jeopardizing a rescue attempt.
'Time?' Pulling back, she gripped the armrest of the chair. 'If only I had it to give.'
'From where I'm sitting, you've got no choice. I have to contact the American consulate and call the State Department.'
Jasmine narrowed her eyes and clenched her jaw, knowing he intended to check out her story. She had to know he wouldn't take it at face value. He had a million reasons to make sure this wasn't a scam concocted by her and Daddy dearest. To her credit, Jasmine kept her mouth shut.
'Plus, I have to speak to Fiona about the money . . . and other things,' he continued. 'Meet me here at seven tomorrow morning. If I decide to help you, I'll be packed and ready to go. If not, you're on your own.'
He raised himself off the sofa, letting her know the meeting had ended.
'As you say, I have run out of options. Until tomorrow, then.' Jasmine stood and reached for his hand, taking his fingers in hers. 'If you decide to join me in this fight, do not take a weapon. With customs and airport security such as it is these days, I've had to make special arrangements.' A faint smile quickly faded. 'I know you are a man willing to risk a great deal out of loyalty. You have proven this before. Please, I beg of you, don't turn your back on Nicholas.'
Christian returned her gesture with a reassuring squeeze of her hand. He watched Jasmine walk toward the elevator and listened as it rumbled to the ground floor. Raven stood silently by his side.
In many ways, he wanted to believe Jasmine. To believe her meant he had all the pieces to the puzzle of his past. His biological father had a name, such as it was. But staring into Jasmine's dark eyes, he'd felt the pull of a dark chasm, filled to the brim with corruption and lies. The woman had grown accustomed to living in such a realm, accepted it. Yet he could not. He felt completely unprepared to enter the world of his so-called father, Nicholas Char-boneau.
It was one thing to free a man needing his help, but was it his fight? Even if Fiona confirmed Charboneau to be his father, how much would he risk to uncover the truth about his past?
'It's hard enough to talk to Fiona these days . . . in that place. Now this.' He shook his head and pulled Raven to his chest, filling his senses with her warmth.
'Nicholas Charboneau. Just when I thought I'd seen the worst.'
Christian's gaze fogged with the image of a face he knew well. Next stop, a long-awaited confrontation with his mother, Fiona. And this time she'd have to tell him the truth.
CHAPTER 4
Day four
Fiona had no need to fear the never-ending damnation of hell. She lived it, each and every day, cut off from the wealth and privilege—and freedom—she left behind.
Christian could only imagine what it must be like for her to live in a minimum security prison located in
