Page 79 of The Wolves Come at Night
Delacroix tipped her head and gave Taylor that infuriatingly knowing smile. “You are all of those things, and more. This is why we will work well together. We will hunt the bastard who hurt my friend’s child, and then I will give you the location of John Baldwin’s son. Will you agree to help me?”
Taylor forced herself to breathe. Absolution. Angelie Delacroix—murderer, assassin, terrorist—was offering her absolution. God damn her eyes, she was going to take it. For Baldwin, she whispered to her soul. For the boy. For Sam, and the twins. For them all.
“All right. I’m in.”
With a small exhalation, Angelie relaxed. “Merci, Taylor Jackson.”
“Don’t thank me yet. What’s the plan? How are we going to track Game?”
“Through the money. He sent a ransom demand to Avery. We’re going to give him the money and take him when he comes to retrieve it. Simple.”
“Simple. Right. He’s not going to be expecting that at all.”
Angelie’s eyes narrowed. “I have a few things I’ll need to set up. Be ready by noon tomorrow. Pack for three days. Leave your firearms. We will have all we need upon our arrival. I have taken the liberty of having papers made for you. You may need them.”
She handed Taylor an envelope. Taylor peered inside, saw a passport, driver’s license, a tidy stack of euros contained by a rubber band, and a burner phone. “Presumptuous.”
“Prepared.”
“Where are we going?”
“France. Paris, to be exact.”
“Paris. And what am I supposed to tell my boss? I’m in the middle of two cases, a murder and a kidnapping.”
“Get sick.”
Taylor laughed briefly. Another test failed. There were limitations to Angelie Delacroix’s information—she didn’t know about Baldwin returning to port, and she didn’t know Taylor had quit the force. “You don’t know me very well. I rarely get sick, and I work when I do.”
“Not in this environment you don’t. Here.” She handed over a triple-wrapped plastic bag. “It is a positive COVID test. Tell them you woke feeling ill and tested yourself out of precaution. They’ll have no choice.”
“Keep that. I can’t lie like that, it’s too easily verifiable. I’ll think of something more plausible.”
“Fine. Do as you like. But make sure you will not be bothered. Leave your phone, too.”
“No. I will not waltz off with you without a phone or weapon.”
“You have the burner. I have no idea if your phone is compromised. The number has been spoofed to yours. No one will know the difference but me.”
“I am not—”
“This is not a negotiation. You agreed to the deal. You will do it my way.”
Taylor realized there was a stiletto touching her ribs and stopped breathing. She hadn’t even seen Angelie move, and here she was, pressed up against her, Taylor’s life in her hands. Again.
“Do you understand? Quit wasting my time. I will not harm you. I am a woman of my word. But you cannot defy me at every step. We don’t have time to waste. No phone, no guns. Noon. There will be a car waiting for you on the corner of Fourth and Broadway.”
The pressure left her ribs. Taylor watched carefully, saw the stiletto go back up Delacroix’s sleeve.
“Neat trick.”
Delacroix ignored the glib comment. “Tomorrow,” she said, and left.
This is crazy this is crazy this is crazy.
She now understood Avery Conway’s whispered warning. It wasn’t that they were playing a game. It was about Joseph Game. And with a ransom demand, Avery Conway was aware of what was happening with her daughter. It explained so much about her odd actions—the trip to DC, the strange phone call, the lack of parental panic that Taylor was used to seeing. Avery knew a stranger hadn’t taken her daughter, Taylor would bet her life on it. She was terrified, though, waiting for something to happen. With the other teammates hovering over her, that’s why she hadn’t been able to tell Taylor straight up about Game.
Damn these people.
