The Freedom Broker (Thea Paris #1)(19)

“Thanks for meeting us so late.” She smiled, but it was forced.

“Sorry to hear about Piers. He had a heart attack?” Peter asked.

The CFO was divorced with two kids, and Christos had confided in Rif that Peter’s speech had been slurred during a morning meeting recently. That was why Rif wasn’t surprised that his eyes were glassy now, as if he’d had one too many Rusty Nails. His gaze dropped to Thea’s cleavage, and Rif ached to punch him.

Her expression darkened. “We’ll miss him keenly. He was with our family for twenty-two years.”

“Can I assist with the funeral service or help in any other way?” Peter asked.

Sycophant.

“I appreciate your kindness, but Piers came from a small town in South Africa, and the service will be for family and close friends only. Meanwhile, Papa asked me to be a conduit between him and the business for a few days so he can put away his BlackBerry and spend time with Piers’s family. Hopefully nothing pressing is on the horizon?”

Peter’s eyes widened, perhaps skeptical that his workaholic boss was taking five minutes off work, let alone a few days. Still, he had no reason to suspect Thea. Also, she had an air of innocence that made her a skilled liar. Perfect for negotiating.

“Business is always hopping, but we can muddle through for a few days without him. I’ll handle any necessary decisions.”

Rif’s gut told him something was rotten. What about the Kanzi oil deal? Didn’t Peter think it important to mention a multibillion-dollar opportunity that would put the company at the top of their game?

“Actually, I’d like you to double-check with me before making any important decisions. Until my father comes back, you understand,” she said.

The CFO cleared his throat. “Does this mean that you’re considering your father’s offer to join Paris Industries?”

Of course Peter worried more about Peter than anything else. If Christos’s favorite child came on board, the CFO’s aquiline nose would shift out of joint, and he’d possibly be out of a future at Paris.

“Kidnapping captures my interest right now.” Her jaw tightened.

“There’s a board meeting the morning of January second. He’ll be back for that?”

“Sure hope so. I wouldn’t want to sit through that painful experience for him. That’s over and above the call of duty,” she said with a light laugh.

“Believe it or not, I find them interesting. But your job trumps everything. Any good hostage tales to share?”

She didn’t miss a beat. “We recently recovered a teenage girl in Colombia who had been taken en route to school. Turns out her chauffeur was involved. Talk about a violation of trust.”

“Terrible.” Peter’s pale face became slightly pink, a physiological response indicating potential guilt. But was it from a deceitful business move, or was the CFO involved in the kidnapping? Or could it simply be the alcohol? Give Rif five minutes with Peter in a dark alley, and he’d get the answer, but Thea always wanted to play it straight.

A text message alert from her father’s phone emanated from her purse.

“I need to take this; it could be work,” she said. “Please excuse me.”

“Sure, sure. I’ll keep you posted on any developments.”

Rif stood, letting her slip out of the booth. A slight tremor in her knees was the only sign of her tension, and he only noticed because he knew her so well. She strode toward the door. He leaned down inches from Peter’s face and looked him in the eye. “You’re hiding something, and I’m going to find out what it is.”

Peter’s skin darkened to deep pink.





Chapter Eleven



Thea stepped outside the club into the cool night, desperate for fresh air. Rif stood beside her, surveying the deserted street and the shadowed overhangs. Diligent, as always. Good thing, as her brain was wrapped in layers of fog.

“Let’s go.” He had his hand on her back, guiding her down the alley.

A war raged inside her. She ached to know the kidnappers’ next move but dreaded potential bad news. Whoever was behind this had already left a trail of corpses. She couldn’t bear the thought of Papa being one of them. No way could she wait to read the message. She fumbled in her purse for her father’s cell.

Before she could pull it out of her purse, Rif’s fingers dug into her arm. She looked up. Four figures dressed in black had encircled them. Two held knives, one had a crowbar, and the fourth brandished a chain.

She dropped the phone back into her purse and slung the strap across her body to free her hands. Instinctively she and Rif positioned themselves back-to-back. She slipped off her Louboutins and kicked them aside.

Two men charged her while the other two pounced on Rif. Her sensei’s voice filled her thoughts. Unless they are highly trained, people don’t work well in packs. Use their disorganization against them.

She moved to the left, forcing them into the nearby alcove. The first attacker approached. A flash of steel drew her attention. She stepped aside, hooked her wrist around his forearm, and stepped into the hold. Crack. She broke his arm and shoved him into the other man. The knife clattered to the ground. She spun around.

The second attacker pushed the first aside and came straight for her. She turned to avoid the chain. Too late. The heavy links lashed her back, battering her right kidney. Pain shot through her body.