Tristan spied Izzie’s hand clutching Anastasia’s under the table. His heart swelled at the small gesture of reassurance. Amid her nightmare, Izzie took the time to let her assistant know she had no blame in the matter. Mark would have found another way in, even if Anastasia had not gone to thestore.
Natasha went on, “We have been able to trace his movements up to a point. His car was last seen on the 210, a little after the exit to downtown San Bernardino. The trail went cold there. There is a big junction in the area. He might have driven north to Nevada or south to San Diego.” She paused as if to gauge theirreactions.
Izzie and Anastasia had their eyes trained on the agent, barely blinking. Tristan cast his down intently studying his hands crossed on the table. His heart skipped so many beats he lost count, air left his lungs. His mind raced with disconnected pieces of information chasing after one another. He didn’t know which way was upanymore.
“Mr. Knight, does this information ring any bells, sir?” Natasha’s expression turned razor sharp. He knew she knew he knewsomething.
“Maybe, not sure,” he mumbled, not bullshitting her as her squinted eyes suggested. He held her stare. “It stirred something in the back of my mind, but I can’t say whatexactly.”
Natasha’s eyes relaxed. “That’s okay, it happens. You’re tense, and our memories are fluid. However, any little thing that might not make sense to you may be useful. Tell me what youremember.”
The pieces fell into place as she spoke. Tristan had a hunch as to where Mark had taken Arthur. If he told the FBI, he wouldn’t have a chance to wring the motherfucker’s neck as he was dying to do. What would be the odds of the agents giving him ten minutes alone with the bastard before they took him intocustody?
Slim tonone.
Mark had threatened Izzie if she called the cops on him. Tristan had to consider that aswell.
Izzie’s stare focused on his, hope and despair warring in her green eyes. He avertedhis.
If he lied, maybe he could get there ahead of the police. He just needed enough time to punch a hole through the fucker’s face. He didn’t care if he got arrested for it. Mark deserved to have his perfect featuresrearranged.
“Mr. Knight?” Natasha’s tone had gained a sternerpitch.
If he got to the cabin and assaulted Mark, what kind of fucked up example would he set for his son? One where laws didn’t matter, and violence was a valid way of solving issues. Not to mention he would be gambling with Arthur’s life. God only knew what kind of shit went on inside Mark’s addledbrain.
“Spill it, goddamn it!” Izzieblurted.
He blinked his way out of the hellhole his mind had taken him to. His eyes landed on Izzie’s and hechoked.
“Fuck! I’m sorry,” he pleaded, pulling her rigid body against his in an awkward embrace. He cut his stare to Natasha’s. “My apologies, agent Cooper. I don’t remember the exact directions, but Mark’s parents had a cabin in Lake Arrowhead when he was growing up. He took me there once or twice. The place had been sold years before, but he liked to boast about it. That’s not much to work with, but it’s all I’vegot.”
Izzie scowled at him and he raised his hands in the air. “I promise, love. That is all I remember. I’m not trying to solve this on myown.”
“That would be a first.” She eyeballed him for a moment, then her shoulders relaxed. She laced their fingers together again. “I believeyou.”
He kissed her knuckles. “Thankyou.”
While they talked, Natasha punched a number on the internal phone. “Check the Lake Arrowhead area for any properties belonging to the King family going back fifty years.” She hung up and addressed them. “Thank you. There’s little more you can do right now, I’ll ask for a car to take you home.” She raised a hand, when Tristan tried to counter the offer. “We’ll work faster and more efficiently, if we don’t have to worry about your well-being. A patrol unit has been assigned to your house since yesterday. You’ll have round-the-clock protection from Mr. King, any unknown associate of his, and the press. In the meantime, we’ll follow this lead. It’s the most solid one we’ve got and I’ve a feeling it might do it.” She stretched out her hands and held Izzie’s when they got up from their chairs. “I promise we’re not going to rest until we bring Arthur back toyou.”
“Thankyou.”
* * *
They rodeto Izzie’s home in tense silence. Tristan feared any of them might crumble if the other said something. He kept his mouth shut and his eyes trained on the landscape outside the tintedwindows.
Once inside, Anastasia offered, “Can I get you anything,Izzie?”
“Thank you, hon. Waiting is awful, but there’s nothing much to do. Go home, hug your family. I’ll keep youposted.”
The women shared a tight embrace, Anastasia waved to Tristan on her way out, and they were left alone to wait for the FBI’scall.
Smashing Izzie’s antiques was not an option, even though Tristan had the urge to break things to get the frustration out of his system. Instead, he stood in the middle of her living room, feet disappearing in the thick cream rug, and held his arms wide open, inviting herin.
“Why don’t you follow the wise advice you just gave Anastasia? Hug your family,” Izzie wrapped herself around him and broke down crying. She had been holding the emotions in, putting on a brave face, and now she let them loose. Her sobs shook her small frame, but Tristan gladly absorbed the shocks, smoothing her hair and back. “Let it out, love. You don’t need to be strong for me,” hewhispered.
She wailed, her voice muffed by his shirt as she crinkled it in her fisted hands. “The bastard took Arthur because of me. Me.” She stabbed her chest. “I’m the one to blame here. Nobodyelse.”
“I know that’s how you feel, but that isn’t true. Mark King is a sick bastard. He’s the only guilty party in all of this. He isn’t the smartest person either. I’m sure he took Arthur to that cabin. They’ll find them, throw Mark’s sorry ass in jail, and bring Arthur to us.” He wasn’t just saying that to appeaseher.
