“Dare I ask?” She nodded toward the dead body.
“Peter Kennedy, CFO of Paris Industries and one of the lead negotiators for the Kanzi deal. Looks like he was poisoned. From the scent of almonds, my guess is cyanide,” Thea said.
“I’ll make sure my team takes a look once the forensics are in.” She could coordinate with the State Department, help them deal with the American businessman’s death.
“I am sorry for your loss,” Max said. “Will the negotiations be canceled?”
“Our COO Ahmed Khali will handle things, but it won’t be the same without Peter.”
Gabrielle admired this young woman. Her father had been kidnapped, her stepmother blown up, her plane sabotaged, and now the lead negotiator of Paris Industries was dead, poisoned—yet she soldiered on. “May I have a moment of your time?”
“Sure, what is it?”
“Over here, please.” Gabrielle headed to a far corner of the room. Thea, Rif, and Max followed.
“Have you learned something about my father?”
“Hakan told you it wasn’t Christos that ISIS was holding captive in Syria?”
“Yes, he did.”
“More and more I’m thinking Ares could be behind this kidnapping. The arms dealer has such a strong presence in Kanzi, and there’s talk among the local militia that he’s involved. Max and I are exploring that angle. The HRFC team is scanning multiple communications channels, searching for chatter about your father’s abduction. Criminals can’t seem to keep their mouths shut—or, in this case, perhaps, their fingers still.”
“I hope they find something.”
Gabrielle’s phone rang. “I need to get this. I’ll catch up with you.”
She turned on her heel, phone to her ear, leaving Max with Thea and Rif.
Max cleared his throat. “Ms. Paris, we have not found anything on your father’s yacht that points to the kidnapper. Just a small amount of Christos’s blood on the helipad. But the Hellenic police are still processing the Aphrodite for trace evidence.”
“I appreciate the update.”
Max checked his watch. “I have secured special permission to work the case here in Kanzi, and I am meeting my contact from the nearby Interpol office in Harare. I would be pleased to help coordinate the flow of information.”
“We’ll take any help you’re willing to give.”
“Has the kidnapper made any demands?” he asked.
She looked across the room at Peter’s body, still shaken that he’d been murdered. Questions swirled in her mind. Had the CFO been involved in the kidnapping? Had he been a corporate spy? Or was he another innocent victim?
“This isn’t a good time, Mr. Heros. Perhaps we can talk later. I hope you understand. I’d like to notify Peter’s family of his death and assist the police when they arrive.”
“Of course, I apologize. Please know that I am at your disposal if you need anything at all.” Max shook her and Rif’s hands and headed for the crowd of partygoers on the other side of the room.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Back in her hotel room after talking to the police and contacting Peter Kennedy’s family, Thea wanted nothing more than to sink into the pillow-top bed and close her eyes for twenty-four hours. But she had a meeting with Ahmed Khali and the Paris Industries lawyers at 5:00 a.m. the next day to go over the speech she was to give and discuss any last-minute issues. But as she was removing her heels, she spied some yellowed papers resting on the bed, similar to the pages she’d found in her computer bag: more pages from Nikos’s journal.
Before reading them, she carefully searched the suite, room by room. Empty. Whoever had been there was long gone. She called the front desk and asked if anyone had accessed her room. Only the maid, as far as they knew. But someone other than a maid had definitely been there.
Chances were it was Nikos. He’d been there in Greece and now here in Kanzi. Besides Rif and Hakan, who was a world away, who else would have access to the notes or want her to read them? The thought left her unsettled and sad. After all these years, her brother was ready to share the truth, but he couldn’t just sit down and tell her? Traumatized by the memories, he might not be able to verbalize the horror of what had happened. Or he could be worried about rejection, stigma, disgrace. Well, she would stand by him, no matter what. His story could have been hers.
She double-checked the chain on the door, then sank back onto the mattress. It comforted her that Rif was in the adjoining room if she needed him.
Curiosity overrode her fatigue, and she started reading.
LAND MINE LINE