Page 3 of Tinley's Daddy
“Just be careful.” I shook my head.
“You’re worried about me?”
The skepticism in his voice made me chuckle. “No, I’m worried about Rayna.”
“How’s it going there?”
“Mauri’s got the latest proposal. Can you please read through it, let me know your thoughts so I can wrap this up?”
I turned toward two men at the bar arguing in hushed tones. They were both dressed in drab dark suits with ugly ties. They stood out because men in Paris took a little more care in what they wore. These guys were in uniform. The Western Europe accent gave them away too. Turkish.
“I’m on it.” Kyler cleared his throat. He had more to say but wouldn’t.
“You two will be laughing about this in twenty years.”
Kyler appreciated I was one of the few people in his life who gave it to him straight, but I wasn’t an asshole either. If he needed this to keep himself sane while Rayna figured her shit out, who was I to crush his hope?
The two men were joined by another who’d come from the elevators. I picked up a few words, then all three jumped up and headed back across the lobby.
“I’ll check in tomorrow.” I hung up and followed the frantic group of guys. One broke off to the first elevator bank to the south tower. The other two stood in front of the elevator to the north tower.
“If you don’t find her…” the taller man’s voice trailed off.
“She couldn’t have gotten far,” his friend said in Turkish.
“Kapa ceneni!”
The guy’s face went blank, and his eyes darted around.
The elevator dings and we all filed in.
I stood to the left; they huddled to the right. I pressed the eleventh floor. The short one pressed the twelfth floor button. He narrowed his eyes and nodded. I nodded back.
We rode up in silence. The taller man’s phone beeped. He read it, cursed under his breath, and showed his colleague.
We reached my floor, and I nodded again to the gentleman and stepped off. I turned right and stopped.
At the end of the hall, behind a huge potted plant, was a girl crouching down, trying to hide. As I approached, she darted out and flattened herself against the door. My door.
Our eyes locked and hers softened for a moment as she stared me up and down. She had the biggest brown eyes. Expressive eyes full of courage and fear.
Footsteps padded across the floor behind me, going in the other direction. The panicked look on her face made my chest tighten. She wore a shimmery silver dress. It hit her mid-thigh and not much else from what I could tell. No purse. No shoes. No jewelry. Her nails were short, with chipped pink polish. Her toes the same.
The footsteps started back in our direction. The building had a curve. As soon as he reached the elevators, he would see her.
Her eyes darted around, looking for an escape.
I shuffled toward my door, fished my key card out of my pocket, and opened it.
“Hey, excuse me,” the man from the elevator called. I turned, shielding her from his view. She was such a tiny thing, it wasn’t hard. “You see a young pale-looking girl with long dark hair?” He peeked down a small hall to his right before moving toward me. “She’s my… niece.”
The pause in his sentence made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
“About this tall.” He stopped in front of me.
“No. I haven’t seen anyone.” A door farther down the hall opened and we both turned. A couple stepped out arm in arm. The couple made their way toward us.
“Hello,” the woman said in a French accent.
