Chapter 1
Cassian did not let the jet leave.
He did not let anyone destroy anything either.
The hangar was secured while his attorney drove in from downtown Chicago.
Sabine and Adrian were separated immediately.
Elodie stayed with Cassian.
He carried her into the private lounge adjoining the hangar and sat with her on the leather sofa while a pediatrician from the family’s medical service examined her.
The doctor found bruising where the hard-shell case had pressed against Elodie’s legs and shoulders, but no major injury.
“She needs warmth, fluids, and quiet,” the doctor told Cassian. “And she should not be questioned repeatedly.”
Cassian nodded.
He had spent most of his adult life believing questions became more useful when people were frightened enough to answer them.
He would not use that philosophy on his daughter.
Elodie refused to release the photograph.
Cassian recognized it.
His late wife, Claire, stood beside a harbor railing wearing a white summer coat, one hand holding her hair away from her face.
It had been taken about six months before she died.
Elodie kept it beside her bed.
Cassian had never paid much attention to the background.
Tonight Adrian had nearly knocked over three suitcases trying to take it.
That changed its importance.
Cassian’s attorney, Rebecca Sloan, arrived shortly after midnight.
She was fifty, precise, and one of the few people around Cassian who never lowered her voice because of his surname.
She looked at the jet.
Then at Sabine’s luggage.
Then at the opened travel case.
“Tell me nobody has moved anything.”
“Nobody.”
“Good.”
The passports and tickets were photographed where they had fallen.
The private flight crew provided the filed travel documents.
The destination printed on Sabine’s ticket was Halifax, Nova Scotia.
Cassian looked toward Claire’s photograph.
He knew that harbor.
Halifax.
Claire had traveled there several times while reviewing contracts connected to Rinaldo Marine Logistics, one of Cassian’s legitimate companies.
The photograph had been taken during one of those trips.
Rebecca noticed his expression.
“What?”
“That picture was taken in Halifax.”
She looked at it.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
Across the hangar, Adrian had finally stopped demanding to leave.
That interested Cassian.
He had expected anger.
Instead, his future brother-in-law looked increasingly nervous every time Rebecca examined the photograph.
Cassian carried Elodie toward the private vehicle waiting outside.
Before they left, Rebecca stopped him.
“There’s another problem.”
“What?”
“The flight manifest.”
Cassian waited.
“Elodie isn’t on it.”
He looked back at the jet.
Sabine had her passport.
She had international tickets.
She had locked the child inside luggage.
Yet according to the official documents, only Sabine and Adrian were supposed to be aboard.
May you like
Cassian looked down at his daughter sleeping against his shoulder.
Whatever they had planned, Elodie was not supposed to officially exist once that aircraft left Chicago.
