Page 5 of Nothing Hiding

"How can you find out who is behind it?" Lucien asked. "He might have been manipulated into doing it. This might not have been his choice, Juliette. Yes, payments were made, but threats might have been made too. He could have had to pay some of these funds out to others down the line. So, who was paying to him?"

"I don't know where to start. A shell company that was closed down? I'm not even certain from the article which 'authorities' even investigated it. I have to try, though. I have to start somewhere. With that, or with the names. Perhaps there are other links to the underworld. Old cases where those same names crop up. It might be a big search, but I can't not try."

"Be careful," Lucien warned again.

"I will. I promise," Juliette said, feeling the weight of the investigation settling on her shoulders. But she couldn't let it go. Not now that she had uncovered this connection. Her father wasn't the man she'd believed him to be, and she owed it to herself to find out the truth.

"I appreciate you listening," she said, wishing he was there, that she could turn and give him a hug, feeling his arms around her, drawing from the comfort of his touch at this time when she was battling with the truth and the reality of everything she'd known.

"I have to go," he said in a regretful voice that told her he was already at the police station’s door, his mind now focused on what the working day would bring. His mind was no longer on her. He was living in a new city and had a new career to think of.

Then she saw that she, too, had another incoming call waiting, and this time, it was her boss, Ebury, back in the States.

"Me too. Speak soon," she said.

She hung up on Lucien, resenting the fact he'd had to move and feeling unexpectedly sorry for herself.

Self-pity was an unwelcome emotion. It didn't sit well with her. Luckily, it was quickly followed by a flash of anger at her own self-indulgence, that she could allow herself to wallow in such emotion.

She forced everything aside, huffing out an impatient sigh, gathering her professional self together to take a call from her boss, who was calling her at one a.m. US time. She guessed he'd be in his Manhattan FBI office, the place she'd worked for a few fulfilling years before joining this task force.

“Ebury?”

"Juliette? Are you ready to head out?" His voice was taut and urgent. From his tone, she knew immediately that it was an emergency.

"I'm ready," she said. She was dressed for the day, in her typical Parisian plainclothes outfit of black pants, her work boots—sturdy but polished, with low heels and grip on the soles—and a scoop-necked top whose color matched the flecks in her hazel green eyes.

"We've got an urgent case in London."

"London?" As she listened, Juliette was already on her feet, cramming her laptop into the bag that always contained a basic change of clothes and a few toiletries, taking her jacket from off the ornamental, wooden coat hook by the front door.

"How soon can you be at Charles de Gaulle? We're not waiting for commercial flights. There's a helicopter charter standing by."

Her eyebrows rose. This sounded very urgent.

"I can be there in twenty minutes," she said.

"Good. The chopper will meet you outside the terminal. We'll send the details during the flight. Bring everything you need, Juliette. I've briefed the others already. This is a high-profile case. The US ambassador's eighteen-year-old daughter has been kidnapped in London. We need to move fast.”

CHAPTER THREE

Juliette climbed into the chopper, greeted the pilot, and slipped quickly into the seat between Wyatt and Sierra.

As soon as she was aboard, the pilot took off, and the chopper lofted into the sky, the sun briefly dazzling her as the chopper banked sharply, turned, and then headed west. Juliette put on her earphones, muffling the sound of the blades. A chopper was no place for a conversation. Discussing the case in detail would need to wait until they'd arrived.

But she briefly greeted each of her co-investigators. First, Wyatt Thompson, her ex-Army partner who’d joined the FBI after his military tours. Tall and rangy, muscular and strong faced, the short haired Wyatt looked every inch the part of law enforcement.

Brave as a lion in a takedown, her all-American partner's unfortunate Achilles heel lay in facing different cultures. And particularly, their foods.

Wyatt gave her a quick, tight grin and a squeeze on the arm.

Then Juliette turned to the young, adventurous tech genius Sierra Lowry. With her cloud of dark hair and sharp, intelligent eyes, she had the gift of instantly adapting to any culture or situation. Already, she was scrolling through a line of coding on her phone, and Juliette wondered if she was working on a hacking program.

Sierra glanced up, raising her eyebrows, and offering Juliette a smile of greeting.

"London. Kidnapping. I'm seeing if I can dig anything up," she said.

Juliette checked her own phone, seeing that more information on the case was filtering through.

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