Searching for Cate (22 page)

He didn't want her leaving, didn't want her going to a foreign country where she would be even more exposed to danger than she already was. But he had no right to tell her not to go. No right at all.

“How long will you be?”

She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Not sure.” Not long, she hoped.

Words rose in his throat. Words of caution. Crazy words, asking her to stay. He struggled to hold them in check, but he could feel himself losing the battle.

Christian frowned. “I know I don't have a right to say anything.”

She didn't want him to tell her not to go…and yet…
“I think my letting you know kind of gives you the right.”

He said the only thing he knew he could, fairly. “I don't like you going.”

“I know.” She could feel her heart lighting up. He cared. At least a little. “I won't say it's as safe as crossing the street, but it is necessary and I'll be careful.”

His frown deepened. “It's not always a matter of being careful.” He didn't know if he liked what was happening. Control over his life was slipping from his fingers again. But he couldn't make himself back away. At least, not yet. “You know, I think that for the first time, I realize what Lukas has to go through with Lydia.” He took her hands in both of his. And didn't want to let them go. “Call me when you get there.”

“It might be the middle of the night before I get the chance,” she warned.

He laughed shortly. “I'm not exactly a stranger to middle-of-the-night calls.” He grew serious again. “And even if I were—call.”

“Okay. I'll see you.” She began to walk away, but then he caught her by the wrist, turning her around again. Her eyes searched his face. “Something else?”

“Yes. Something else.”

And before she could ask what, Christian swept her into his arms. Kissing her long and hard.

H
er knees were the first to abandon her.

Forgetting for a moment that they were standing in the middle of a busy hospital hallway, Cate threw her arms around his neck.

She sank deeper into the kiss, wild sensations scrambling her pulse and turning everything upside down. Alarms went off in her head. If she didn't get him to stop kissing her right now, she knew she wasn't going to be responsible for what came next. Exercising supreme control, she ended the kiss.

It took more than a few erratic beats of her heart for her bearings to return. Cate drew in a breath and released it again before she trusted herself to speak coherently and above a squeak. She wished she was home, in bed.

With him.

She did her best to reunite herself with a smattering of composure. “Wow. Will that be waiting for me when I get back?”

He thought about being cagey, about holding back. About his own survival, all of which dictated a flippant retort. But this was about absolute moments. And the thought that she might not return completely decimated all the safeguards he told himself he should be reconstructing. Instead, he smiled warmly at her, remembering their weekend and wanting to feel that there would be others to savor with her. “Count on it.”

Cate pressed her lips together, still tasting him. Why wasn't there more time? “Then I'll be sure to come back.”

Abruptly turning on her heel, she hurried off to see Katya before she said anything more stupid than that. Or dragged Christian off to a supply closet to jump his very provocative bones.

 

“What will become of me?” Katya asked the question haltingly, mixing what she knew of Polish together with the brand-new English she had been picking up.

The girl was like a sponge, Cate thought. Despite what had happened to her, she was eager to learn, eager to have a life.

Pressed for time, Cate still answered her, both in Polish and then in English, hoping that somewhere between the two languages, the girl would understand and continue to find hope. With hope anything was possible. Cate knew that firsthand, because somewhere in the barren garden of her own soul, hope had begun to sprout again.

“You'll be taken into the child services system.”

The words meant nothing to Katya and Cate didn't know the term for it in Polish.

Katya read into her friend's tone and drew her own conclusions. “Is orphanage?”

Cate heard fear surrounding every syllable. “No, it's much better,” she said quickly. Because the situation demanded it, she cut to the wished-for happy ending. “And then, after a while, maybe a nice couple will adopt you.”

Katya's brown eyes widened and there was a spark of hope in them. “You? You adopt?”

Cate's heart felt heavy. The word no came automatically to her lips, but she suppressed it. There was no way she could stand being the one to squelch Katya's hopes. So she began to turn the question, the idea, around in her head. She certainly hadn't been thinking, even remotely, of adopting or even of having a child of her own at this point in her life. But Katya needed someone.

And
she
needed someone.

Maybe one need could cancel out the other one and they could both be the better for it. It was worth thinking about. “I'll look into it.”

Katya cocked her head, her long brown hair spilling over one shoulder. “Is yes?”

“We're a long way off from yes,” Cate cautioned, then explained. “It isn't up to me.” She saw that she was losing Katya in both languages. So she smiled, nodded and, fondly imitating Katya's accent, said, “Is ‘maybe.'”

Katya understood the word
maybe
and how far it
was from
yes.
But she smiled because it was also far from
no.

“
Maybe
is good,” Katya concluded.

 

She'd spent more time than she'd meant to. In both places. Which meant that she was late.

Jumping into her car, Cate peeled out of the parking lot. She took to the road, making sure she was doubly vigilant at all times. One eye on the lookout for the flow of traffic in front of her and one eye watching for the sight of any approaching police vehicle behind her.

She got back to the field office in what she felt could very well have been record time.

The minute she walked into the task force room, she saw Lydia coming toward her like a shot. Something was up. She didn't need a news bulletin to tell her that.

“Did you listen to the news?” Lydia asked her when she was still halfway across the floor.

Cate shook her head. “I was trying to enjoy this CD I bought a week ago. Didn't know when I would get a chance to listen to it again.” She knew now that she should have switched on the all news station instead. Lydia had never looked so grim. “Why?”

The news was as grim as Lydia's expression. “There's been a bombing at the American embassy in the Ukraine. Sullivan says they're checking to see if some terrorist organization is claiming responsibility.”

“Damn,” Cate muttered, then looked at Lydia as several of the others gathered around them to listen and share. “What else could it be?” Questions began occurring to her. Questions that had to be answered. Ques
tions she was almost afraid to ask. “How many casualties?”

The reports were still coming in and conflicted with one another. Lydia was rooting for the lower numbers, but even one was one too many. “Enough.”

“Baker one of them?”

Lydia shook her head, feeling helpless. “We don't know.” Sullivan had placed several calls to the ambassador, who had been touring a museum at the time the bomb had gone off. So far, the ambassador hadn't called back. “He hasn't been accounted for yet.”

Cate did a worse-case scenario. “Which means Baker might have used this as a cover-up to cut his ties and escape.”

“He'd only do that if there's a leak in the bureau and he found out we were after him.” There had already been one security overhaul eighteen months ago. Right now, things were as airtight as they could get. She didn't want to entertain the thought of another leak.

There was another explanation. “Or the people he's dealing with made things too hot for him,” Cate pointed out. “Anyone involved in what amounts to the kidnapping and selling of children doesn't exactly have the moral makeup of a Boy Scout.” Thoughts raced through her head as she weighed options as well as their accompanying repercussions. “In any event, I don't see how it changes anything for me. He's either out there to be found or dead, in which case I need to bring the body back.”

Not to mention questioning everyone who'd ever had anything to do with the man since he'd gone over there, she added silently. As another thought occurred to her, she looked at Lydia.

“I'm going to need to take someone with me.” She was thinking out loud and saw that Lydia wasn't following her. “If Baker is dead, I want someone from the M.E.'s office with me to make sure the body belongs to Baker and not some poor schmuck he decided to use as a body double.” More than likely, if the bombing was started as a cover-up, Baker's body would be burned to the point that recognition would be difficult if not impossible without an expert.

Despite the gravity of the situation, Lydia couldn't repress the bemused smile that came to her lips. “‘Schmuck?'”

Cate raised and lowered her shoulder in a dismissive gesture. “You pick up things on the job.”

Lydia grew serious again. What Cate said made sense. The more she worked with her, the more respect she had for the way the younger woman's mind operated. “I'll go talk to Sullivan, tell him what you need.”

Glancing down on her desk, Cate saw that a boarding pass had already been dropped off for her. “It's going to have to be quick, Lydia. Unless someone's willing to give me one hell of a crash course in forensics.”

“On my way,” Lydia declared, already rushing toward the door. To her surprise, Cate fell into place beside her. “I'll walk with you.”

“Why?” Lydia shifted slightly to one side, making room for her partner. “Don't you don't trust me to find my way down the hall?”

“It's not that.” Cate searched for the right words. “I wanted to ask you something.” She sidestepped several agents coming from the opposite direction. None of their faces registered. “Off the record.”

Lydia wondered if this had anything to do with Christian. Cate hadn't said a word about what had happened after they got off the plane on Friday. Had the two of them gotten together? “Shoot.”

Cate talked fast, wanting to get it all out before being interrupted. “Katya's due to be released from the hospital soon. She'll go into the system after that. We all know how that can be.” She pushed on before Lydia could say anything one way or another. “What do you think of my adopting Katya?”

Lydia stopped walking and looked at her. Her puzzled expression gave way to one of compassion. “I think it's an impulsive idea.”

Because she liked Lydia, she took no offense. Instead, she pushed forward with her thoughts on the subject. “She doesn't have anybody, Lydia. I've looked into her family and no one there knows what happened to her parents. Dead most likely. That means she's alone. Alone, scared and she has a language problem.”

“Timmons, the newbie we've got guarding her,” Lydia added in case Cate didn't know to whom she was referring, “says he's been trying to teach her some basic stuff. The girl's a fast study.”

Cate nodded. It wasn't anything that she hadn't already discovered for herself. “Yes, I know. Still doesn't change the fact that she is alone. Who's going to want to adopt a fourteen-year-old girl who's been traumatized the way Katya has and has a language barrier to boot?”

Lydia resumed walking down the hall to Sullivan's office. “You never know, we might find a Ukrainian couple. After all, Katya's not the only one who's ever
come from that country. Look, one problem at a time, okay?” she said, tabling the discussion. “We'll tackle the question of what to do with Katya once you get back.”

“Count on it.”

Her words echoed back to her. Cate realized she'd used the exact terminology that Christian had earlier. No matter what else was going on, she just couldn't get him off her mind for more than a few minutes.

She wondered what he would think of this idea of hers and if it would affect their situation. Or even if they had a situation, she amended. She was well aware that emotions always spiked when an element of danger was involved, and they both knew she was facing it, big time.

Maybe once she was back, the excitement, the thrill would be gone. And he would back away from any implied commitment.

They'd reached Sullivan's office.

“Want me to come in?” she asked just as Lydia knocked on the door.

Lydia grasped the doorknob, turning it. She gestured for Cate to go first as she opened the door. “It's your idea.”

 

Five hours later, Cate was on an international flight bound for Kiev, the capital of the Ukraine, and sitting next to Dr. Walter Phelps, a mid-level member of the medical examiner's office. Sullivan had pulled strings that allowed them to circumvent the long, tedious security-check process at the airport. They were allowed to board the plane the moment they arrived at the terminal.

Nonetheless, anyone could see that the man sitting next to her was far from a happy camper. He hadn't said
much, but had been fidgeting the entire time he'd occupied his seat.

“I'm missing my daughter's basketball game.”

The half-whining declaration came out of the blue. Cate looked at him and realized that he was holding tightly onto his seat rests. His knuckles were so white, they looked as if they were about to break through his skin at any moment. Takeoff had been almost an hour ago. From the looks of it, Walter hadn't loosened his grip in all that time.

“First international flight?” she guessed.

“First any-kind-of-flight,” he confirmed. “I don't get out much,” he added defensively.

She smiled at him, trying to bring him around and hoping to allay his fears. “Except to basketball games.”

If he sighed any harder, he would have been classified a type-two hurricane. “Not this time.”

Maybe a compliment might help him bear up to this. And calm down a little, she hoped. “I wouldn't have asked for anyone if I didn't need them, and they wouldn't have given me you if you weren't good at what you do.”

“That'll teach me,” Walter mumbled through clenched teeth.

Cate took off the kid gloves and gave it one more shot. “You know, it's the pilot who flies that plane. Pulling off the armrests really doesn't affect the flight one way or another.”

Walter scowled at her and went on clutching the armrests.

Giving up, Cate began planning her next move once they were on the ground again.