Lucy hadn’t believed she could feel any lower, but now she did. Even the realization that she wouldn’t be leaving Bryan’s protective custody anytime soon didn’t cheer her. This was no way to live, scared to go out in public, feeling powerless, no job, no home of her own.
They had to catch Vargov and his accomplice. “Do you have a plan?”
“I’m working on it.” He took a deep breath, then looked at Lucy and managed a smile. “I’m sorry. I feel like I’ve really messed things up for you.”
“I don’t know what you could have done. Who was tailing Vargov?”
“What?”
“Isn’t it possible someone let him go on purpose?”
He shook his head. “We recruited some FBI agents on that detail. They couldn’t possibly be involved.”
Lucy didn’t know what else to say on the subject. “Are you hungry?” she asked.
He seemed to have to think about that. “Yeah. I don’t think I’ve eaten all day.
Let’s go downstairs. The restaurant is quiet this time of day.”
Lucy wasn’t hungry, but she wanted to keep him company.
Stash put them in the booth reserved for the Elliotts, the most private spot in the whole restaurant. Bryan requested a bowl of Irish stew, though it was hot as blazes outside.
“Surely that’s not on the menu,” she said, since Irish stew was neither French nor Asian.
“Comfort food. Chef Chin can make anything. Gram used to make that for me.”
Poor Bryan. She’d never seen him in such a state. She wanted to make it better, but she couldn’t. So she remained silent, sipping on a cup of coffee. She’d be there for him if he wanted to talk.
He ate his meal in silence, too. She doubted he even tasted it-his thoughts seemed to be far, far away.
Stash wandered by and, seeing that Bryan’s bowl was empty, asked, “You want some dessert? Chef Chin was experimenting with some lemon-butter fortune cookies this afternoon. I thought they were magnifique.”
“Sure,” Bryan said absently. Stash headed for the kitchen, but his cell phone rang and he stopped midstride to answer. Bryan watched him, and the ghost of a smile crossed his face. “Ah, I know that look. Stash has a new girlfriend. Those cookies are long forgotten.”
“I’ll get them,” Lucy said, scooting out of the booth.
“Lucy, you don’t have to wait on me.”
“I don’t mind. Sit tight.”
Lucy wandered into the kitchen, which was strangely deserted. Now, she thought, where would Chef Chin have stored those cookies? There was a hallway lined with custom shelving where staples were stored in clear plastic storage bins of various sizes. She found something that looked like fortune cookies, opened the container and took a whiff. Lemon. These had to be the ones.
She picked up the container, turned and ran into the chest of a young man wearing the apron of a busboy.
“Oh, excuse-” A hand over her mouth cut off her apology, and the plastic container fell to the floor, cookies spilling and breaking everywhere.
“Shut up,” came the urgent voice of the man behind her. “Cooperate, and you won’t be hurt.”
Oh, right! He wrenched her arms behind her, attempting to handcuff her. Lucy screamed and kicked out viciously at the busboy in front of her. She got in one good blow to the guy’s stomach before he captured her legs and quickly wrapped duct tape around her ankles. He performed this task with amazing efficiency, giving the impression that Lucy wasn’t his first kidnapping. In seconds flat she was immobilized, gagged and being carried toward the back door.
Chapter 10
Bryan couldn’t say exactly what it was that made him follow Lucy to the kitchen. But he felt suddenly uneasy at the idea of Lucy alone and unprotected in a public place. A busboy who had been vacuuming nearby during the lull in business had abruptly abandoned his chore when Lucy passed and had headed too casually in her direction. Bryan followed. He tried to talk himself out of his paranoia. There was no way Vargov or anyone else could know where Lucy was staying. Even his fellow agents had no way of knowing.
Still, he went after her.
When he reached the kitchen, it was oddly deserted. Then he heard a scuffle coming from the pantry hallway, and he didn’t think, he just went into action.
The gun he kept in an ankle holster somehow made it to his hand as he peered around the corner into the hallway just in time to see two men dressed as busboys heading for the delivery door with Lucy trussed up between them.
“Freeze!” Bryan yelled. They dropped Lucy with a bone-crunching thud. One of them reached into his apron. Bryan wasn’t going to give him a chance to show him what was in the pocket. He aimed and shot. The busboy swiveled in time to avoid a fatal shot; he took a bullet in the shoulder and was gone, the other man ahead of him.
Bryan gave chase as far as the alley, but they’d disappeared by the time he cleared the door. He longed to chase them, run them down, demand to know who’d sent them-and how they’d known where to find Lucy. But his concern right now had to be for Lucy. He didn’t know whether she was injured or how seriously. She’d been clearly conscious, and he’d seen no visible blood, but other injuries were possible. He returned to her at once. “Don’t try to move, Lindsay,” he said, amazed he could keep her cover even in the midst of this mess. “You might be injured.” He gently pulled off the tape that had been slapped over her mouth.
She struggled to breathe, and Bryan feared the worst. Spinal injury? Broken ribs, punctured lung? But then she managed to gasp in a bit of air.
“I’m…okay.”
“You don’t look okay.” He gave her a smile and brushed the hair back from her face. “Don’t try to move, okay?”
Stash appeared in the hallway looking frantic. “What the hell just happened? I found Kim and two of the sous chefs locked in the freezer!”
“Attempted robbery gone bad, I think,” Bryan said innocently.
“I…wouldn’t cooperate,” Lucy said. “They wanted to kidnap me. My father has money.” She pushed up on her elbows despite Bryan’s attempt to get her to lie still. “I’m okay, just got the wind knocked out of me.”
Bryan was amazed she’d come up with a cover story so quickly.
“Did I hear a shot?” Stash asked. Chef Chin, the other chefs and a couple of waiters had gathered to stare, mouths open in amazement.
“That was just the door slamming,” Bryan fibbed. He had reholstered his gun before anyone saw it.
“We should call the police,” one of the chefs said.
Bryan supposed there was no way around it. It would look odd if he didn’t want to bring in the cops. They’d all gotten a good look at the “busboys,” who apparently were new hires just the day before. That in itself wasn’t unusual; restaurant staff came and went quickly.
Bryan could have easily picked the handcuff lock and freed Lucy’s hands, but that might have invited speculation, too. So he waited for the cops to arrive, and one of them had a handcuff key. An evidence technician collected the duct tape, hoping to find prints.
Blessedly, none of the restaurant patrons ever knew anything was wrong. Only a few tables were occupied, it being way too early for the dinner crowd. The cops conducted their interviews in Bryan’s office even as the kitchen was being restored to normal.
The man Bryan had shot managed to leave no blood behind him, and Bryan wondered if he’d been wearing a bulletproof vest.
It was all over in a couple of hours. Lucy was banged up, but that was all.
“What do we do now?” Lucy asked forlornly the moment she and Bryan were alone.
“That wasn’t a random act of violence, was it?”
“No way. Pack a bag. We’re getting out of here.”
“And going where?”
