Tomorrow he would finally meethim.
He tightened one arm around Izzie’s waist, and draped the other over his face, willing himself to sleep. The following day was going to be long and tiring, and the alarm clock would go off in a fewhours.
* * *
As he draggedhis feet along the terminal’s endless corridor, Tristan looked sideways to find Izzie’s expression as drained as his probably was. “I didn’t remember the flight being thislong.”
“Because you haven’t taken it in so many years. Not even the first-class service made it less exhausting thistime.”
“The old seats didn’t help either,” Tristan agreed. “I mean, where were those pods that morph into beds I had seen on theirwebsite?”
“Apparently not in this route, they aren’t,” she snapped in her best midwesternrendition.
Despite the fatigue, he laughed and was reminded, not for the first time, of her delightful sense of humor. Gone were the worries and self-doubts of a couple of months ago. The previous night had been magical, but when they slept through the alarm, and rushed out of her hotel, their only concern had been making to the airport in time. Neither mentioned the L word, or the fact they had saidit.
During the flight, in the relative privacy of their first-class seats, they talked their heads off, but didn’t touch the subject. Tristan decided to wait for Izzie to bring it up by herself. He now believed she had said the words in the heat of their lovemaking. He would rather hear them again, when she was thinking clearly, before surprising her with his ownfeelings.
Right now, he was eager to meet their son for the first time, even though the excitement was almost shadowed by the anxiety of the firstencounter.
“You think he’s going to like me? What if he hates my guts? I mean, he must think I abandoned you andhim.”
Izzie rolled her eyes. “Again with this shit? I’ve told you a million times, and I’ll repeat it another million times until you get it through your thick skull. Arthur is an awesome kid. He’s incapable of hating anybody, and he’s not going to start with you. You’re saving his life, for fuck’ssake.”
They reached the Passport Control lounge, so they stopped, and searched the carry-on external pouches for their passports. Neither noticed a couple in dark suits standing a few feet away until the woman spoke. “Ms. Anderson? Mr. Knight? I’m Special Agent Cooper, this is Special Agent Morales. We’re with the FBI, we need you to come withus.”
Snapping his head up, Tristan ignored the rectangular pieces of printed paper the couple was trying to hand in to him. Frowning, he demanded, “What do you mean? Whathappened?”
Although the United States counted with a myriad of distinct police enforcement agencies, which made it hard for the average citizen to keep track of who watched over what, the FBI did not patrol borders. That much heknew.
“We need to debrief you about the situation, so Customs and Border Protection made a meeting room available for us to use. We’ll take you there. Also, you’ll want to avoid the barricade of press members and fans that’s waiting for your arrival. We’ve parked at the back, so we can get out of here quickly, once we’re done with thedebriefing.”
Tristan’s head was reeling, none of it made any sense, but before he could express his confusion, Izzie spat out, “What the hell are you driving at? What situation?” Panic made her naturally soothing voice turnsqueaky.
“My apologies, ma’am. I thought you knew about it.” The tall red-headed federal agent exchanged a look with her sturdy partner. “Mark King kidnapped your sonyesterday.”
If Special Agent Cooper had kicked him in the nuts, it would not have been as painful. He looked into Izzie’s eyes and blurted out, “This time I will kill themotherfucker.”
“Nobody is killing anyone. Get us out of here, please. You can debrief us on the way. I want to find my son.” Izzie didn’t flinch as she spoke, but a muscle twitched in hercheek.
Tristan admired her control, as the four of them made a beeline to an electronic passport scanner. After Tristan and Izzie got clearance to enter the country, the agents led the way through a labyrinth of corridors until they were out of the terminal. A black SUV with tinted windows was the only vehicle in sight. Agent Morales got behind the wheel and his partner climbed onto the passenger seat. Izzie and Tristan sat behindthem.
Agent Cooper’s auburn hair was made in a tight bun at the back of her hair. For some weird reason, Tristan focused on the neatly arranged strands. Maybe she chose an austere hairdo to make up for her inexperience. He bet she had just left the academy, she didn’t look a day older than twenty-five. Way too young to spearhead a case likeArthur’s.
What thefuck?
She turned around to face them, a sympathetic smile curving her eyes, but a determined glint tinkling in her brown eyes. “I’m aware this is a lot for you two to process. The most important thing to focus on right now is that you’re in good hands. The best, really. My team has handled dozens of kidnappings, among other crimes. We know what we’re doing. We need you to stay calm, let us do our job, and we’ll get Arthur back to you in notime.”
“Thank you, Agent Cooper,” Izzie muttered, flipping the agents’ cards around in her hands. Tristan hadn’t noticed her accepting them. The woman’s strength kept surprisinghim.
“Please, call me Natasha,ma’am.”
Izzie nodded. “You said your team has worked cases like this before? You mean to say, you’re part of a team, or that you command it? I’m sorry, but I figured you were too young to have that kind of experience. I don’t mean to speak out of turn. It’s just that it’s my son’s life we’re talking about here. I need toknow.”
Agent Natasha Cooper smiled, a genuine, warm grin. “That’s fine, ma’am. I get that a lot and I understand your concern. I’m fortunate enough not to show my age, but I’ve also advanced quickly in the Bureau. You’ve got nothing to worry about, Ms.Anderson.”
“Izzie.”
Tristan looked out of the window, Agent Morales was speeding up north on the 405; they should make it to the FBI buildingshortly.
