Secrets (6 page)

“Why won’t they
believe us?” Sonya demanded of
Madame
Lalonde. “I am
not
imagining this, and Sylvain and I both saw what
happened. It’s the truth, not some made up story. Why on earth
would we make up something like this?” she demanded, beginning to
show the panic that had escalated ever since Bryan had been shoved
forcefully into the black sedan.

“
Chérie
,”
Madame
Lalonde soothed as she placed her
arm over both Sonya’s and Sylvain’s shoulder. “It is a most unusual
story,” she began. “The police have your report, but they have
nothing to, how can I say, do. There is no license number, the only
description is black sedan. Paris is filled of black sedans. You
cannot identify the men except really big.”

Sonya’s eyes
began to tear. “So what do we do now?” she demanded.

“We wait,” was
Madame
Lalonde’s reply. “Because there is not much
information, does not mean that the police do nothing.
Allons!
” she demanded and keeping her hold securely on both
of them, quickly walked home and locked the door securely upon
entering.

“
Va etudier,
tout de suite! (Go study, now!)
” she ordered Sylvain and then
disappeared. He obeyed immediately.

Wondering where
she went, Sonya discretely followed
Madame
Lalonde, to find
her checking the house thoroughly, efficiently and systematically
locking unlocked windows and checking each room completely, even
the closets.

Aha! Sonya
thought. So,
Madame
Lalonde wasn’t as calm as she pretended
to be.
Madame
Lalonde then sat into a small chair in the
corner of an upstairs hallway, looked around, pulled out a cell
phone and pushed a button. She spoke for perhaps forty-five
seconds, terminated the call and returned the cell into her pocket.
The only word that Sonya thought that she recognized was the word,
“wizard”. Wizard? in the middle of a French conversation? What was
with the name wizard. Was this the new buzzword?

Sonya quietly
slipped into her bedroom where she found the formerly open window
not only closed, but locked from the inside. This was getting
scarier and scarier. Where was Bryan and why hadn’t he called?
Instead of enjoying her honeymoon, she was all alone in a
stranger’s house, and in a foreign country with no one to rely upon
but herself.

Tears began to
stream, tears of frustration, of self pity and of fear. Once her
tirade was over, Sonya washed her face and engaged her rather
prodigious brain.

Taking out a
writing tablet from her computer case, she began to write down all
the facts that she knew, starting a separate list of the people
that they had met since coming to Paris. Two, Grégoire and
especially Lucien, were those that would require further
investigation. What were Bryan and Lucien discussing in their
little
tête-à-tête’s
since he had returned to Paris? And
what about Grégoire? Bryan had said he was someone to watch his
back? Why would he need someone to watch his back?

It was
impossible to stop thinking about the details surrounding the
kidnapping. Sonya’s mind would not stop whirling. However, it was
then that she was able to sort things out, cutting out the
extraneous and concentrating on the solid facts.

She would be
slipping out of
Madame
Lalonde’s house.
Madame
Lalonde had not been much help. If the French police wouldn’t help
her, she knew someone with pull that maybe could. Some forethought
was needed, just in case. She dressed in casual, fashionable
clothes that would allow her to blend easily into a Paris
crowd.

Sonya packed
her purse with both of their passports, their airline tickets and
itinerary, all of the extra money, the documents envelope that was
packed into Bryan’s backpack, his camera and her computer. An extra
shirt, jeans, underwear, cosmetics and overnight grooming
essentials were next. It all fit very easily into a fashionable
leather tote-bag, which had been a graduation gift from her sister,
Susan.

Carefully
hiding it in a corner of the closet and covering it with the navy
blazer that she planned to wear, Sonya took a deep breath and
stepped outside her room, quietly taking the stairs down to the
kitchen.

Madame
Lalonde was already there, sipping a coffee. Without a word, she
poured a cup for Sonya, handing it to her before she even sat at
the table. She looked very little like the chic woman that Sonya
had met on her first night in Paris. Dark circles smudged her eyes,
which were somewhat bleary.

“Worried?”
Sonya asked.

Slowly sitting
at the table,
Madame
Lalonde took a deep breath and exhaled
slowly. “
Oui,
” she replied. “Still, there is no telephone
call.”

“I was
listening for the telephone too. What can we do other than wait?”
Sonya replied.

All
Madame
Lalonde could do was shake her head. “
Rien,
nothing
,
” was all she said.

At that moment,
Sonya knew that her plan was the only option that she had. They
partook in a solemn, quiet coffee, with even the usually cheery
Sylvain subdued.
Madame
Lalonde left the room, returning in
about twenty minutes, fully made up and elegantly dressed,
seemingly to have shed her weariness.

“I have several
appointments that I can not cancel
ce matin
, (
this
morning
),” she explained. “Sylvain, I wish for you to remain
home with Sonya this morning. You must promise that you will not
open door to anyone.
Tu comprend? (Do you understand?)
”
Sylvain nodded, somewhat shocked at his grandmother’s warning.

With that,
Madame
Lalonde left the house, carefully locking up when she
left. Immediately she did, Sonya rushed upstairs, put on her blazer
and picked up her tote. She was almost to the door when she was
intercepted by Sylvain.

“Where do you
go?” he demanded. “We must remain until
Granmama
return.”

Unable to
withhold her smile, Sonya looked into the earnest young eyes of her
housemate. “I have some business to attend to,” she explained,
hoping to bounce him off.

“You leave,” he
replied, his astute eyes having taken in her tote bag. Sonya did
mentally note that he had seen her purse, and the tote bag was
considerably larger.

“I have to
spend some time in town,” she replied vaguely.

“
Granmama
tell me I must be with you
ce matin
,” he
countered. Opening a closet, he removed a light jacket, put it on
and reaching for his book bag, he dumped its contents on the floor
of the closet, tossed a few articles into the bag, closed it and
turned. “I am ready.”

Astonished,
Sonya protested, “I can’t take you with me Sylvain! Your
grandmother would be very angry with both of us.”

“I will
follow,” he replied stubbornly. “I call
Granmama
to tell
where we are.”

This was a
dilemma. She couldn’t allow Sylvain to follow her, not after the
kidnapping. He could be the next victim. And she couldn’t trust him
to stay and wait for his grandmother. Against her better judgement,
she nodded, “Okay. But you must call your grandmother.”

Sylvain nodded.
“Yes. Where we will go?” he asked.

Sonya told him
the name of the hotel to which she was going, and he seemed to
understand. “Where can we catch a taxi?” she asked.

“You follow,”
he replied seriously and they left the house, locking it securely
as they did.

Carefully
looking around, Sylvain possessively took Sonya’s arm and led her
down the road a few houses, suddenly ducking into a lane and
hurrying along a few hundred feet, where he turned right. Within
minutes, they were on a busy roadway, with lots of traffic and
pedestrians milling about. He seemed to breathe a sigh of
relief.

“What was that
all about?” Sonya demanded.

“I do not wish
for to be kidnap,” he replied in a very grown up manner. “
Je
comprend ce voisinage très bien
.
(I know this neighbourhood
very well.)
We walk one block this way. There we get taxi.”

“Please explain
to me how two men were kidnap in broad daylight on your watch!” the
controlled anger in the voice demanded.

“We believe
that we were made, and that the hijackers were aware that their
pickup point was our only weakness at that moment. We do not
believe that those in the car were working alone. Sir!”

Silencing them
with a wave of his finger, he answered his cell phone, listened for
a minute and then put the cell down.

“Find them!” he
ordered. “Unfortunately, I have been advise that there was no
option but to inform
les Gendarmes
. We have only a short
time before explanation must be made to those who must be obey. If
my ass get kick,
mes amis
, yours are chop liver!”

With that, he
dismissed them.

Paying for the
taxi, Sonya stepped out and analyzed the
Hotel Mercure
.
Sylvain, being a sophisticated urbanite even at his age, took
little notice of the lovely building, concentrating instead on
Sonya, following her into the lobby.

She picked up a
house telephone, and a frown crossed her brow. “
Monsieur Steven
Hunter, s’il vous plait.(please)
” She waited, and then left a
brief, terse message before hanging up. “Steve, this is Sonya. I’m
in the lobby. Please come when you get this message – it’s vitally
important.”

Picking up the
phone again, she asked for Mike Toth, with the same results.
Frustration was becoming apparent, but she left a message, hung up
and took a deep breath.

“It looks like
my cousins are out,” she explained to Sylvain. “We can wait in the
restaurant. Do you want a coffee or a hot chocolate? And we should
contact your grandmother.”

“Yes, we sit in
restaurant. I forgot
Granmama!
” They took a seat at the
café
and ordered some hot chocolate. Sylvain took out his
cell phone, quickly texting a message to his grandmother.

Sonya almost
smacked her own forehead. Of course! She could text Steve, and he
would receive the message immediately! Both were busy texting, when
they heard someone clearing their throat next to their table.
Looking up, Sonya was immensely relieved to see Mike. She almost
began to cry as she rose to hug him.

“What a
surprise to see you here,” he began. “Is this your new boyfriend?”
he smiled kindly, referring to Sylvain.

Sonya
introduced Sylvain, who was eyeing Mike with suspicion. “Mike, this
is Sylvain Lalonde. We are staying with him and his grandmother.
Sylvain, this is my cousin, Mike Toth. Do you know where Steve is?
It’s really important!”

Mike’s
curiosity was piqued. “Where is Bryan?” he asked quietly.

With that,
Sonya’s eyes began to fill and a tear rolled down her cheek
unnoticed. “We don’t know,” she whispered. “He and Lucien were
kidnapped early this morning.”

“Kidnapped?
Lucien?” Mike repeated in a Desoto voice. “Who is Lucien?”

“
Mon
Papa
,” Sylvain solemnly replied, his eyes beginning to fill
with tears.

“Sonya?”
Another voice interrupted, and Sonya looked up to see that BB had
almost materialized beside them. “Why the tears?” he inquired
solicitously.

By now the
entire situation was beginning to become emotionally overwhelming,
and Sonya was finding it more and more difficult to keep the tears
from flowing. Immediately, BB took her elbow, Mike paid for their
hot chocolates and with Sylvain tagging along behind, they crossed
the lobby and stepped into an elevator. Mike led them to his room,
opened the door and their little procession stepped inside.

“Perhaps we can
help,” BB stated. His voice was kind, but his authority was
undeniable.

With a little
help from Sylvain, Sonya began to describe the kidnapping,
including their visit to the police
arrondissement,
and then
she sat somewhat heavily onto the side of the bed. Sylvain sat
beside her, rather awkwardly patting her hand in a very sweet
gesture to try to comfort her.

Mike was
dumbfounded. BB stood at military rest, not saying much, his face
inscrutable. As he stood, his cell phone signalled. In one
economical motion, he flipped it open and appeared to read a text.
He punched a number, listened to whatever was said and tersely
ordered, “Galahad home base immediately!” And then in one motion,
he flipped the phone closed.

His radar like
eyes focussed upon Sonya and Sylvain. “So, young Sylvain, what is
your father’s name? Do you have any idea why anyone would force
your father and Bryan into a car?”

In no way cowed
by the obviously powerful older gentleman standing in front of him,
Sylvain pulled himself into a straighter position, and still
patting the top of Sonya’s hand, replied. “
Lucien Lalonde est
mon papa,”
as if challenging BB to dispute it.

“Ah,
merci
,” BB replied, his face registering a slight and very
sympathetic smile. “And neither you nor your
granmamma
know
why he was kidnapped, I take it?” Still holding onto his composure,
the youngster simply shook his head.

“Well,” BB
continued, “I believe we must ensure that nothing like that happens
to either you or Sonya or your
grandmamma!
I believe that it
might not …”

A knock at the
door interrupted him. Mike, who throughout all of this conversation
was silently taking it all in, stepped to answer the door, allowing
Steve to enter.

“I received a
…” Steve stopped mid-sentence, the moment he viewed the assembly in
Mike’s now somewhat crowded room.

“It would
appear that both Bryan and Lucien have been kidnapped in front of
the Lalonde home. Sonya and Sylvain witnessed it from an upstairs
window. The police have been informed,” BB advised in a
matter-of-fact manner.