“Dr. Lind lives in Israel?”
Devon nodded.
“You didn’t tell them that, did you?”
“Of course not,” Devon answered. “No. In fact, I think the only person who knows for sure is my cousin Victoria. She’s been to see him once since he moved.”
“She didn’t tell you where he lived?”
“She said he was in a neighborhood called the White City. He lives two blocks away from some square.”
“I’ve been to Tel Aviv before,” Luke said. “Do you remember the street name?”
Devon thought back on the conversation he’d had with Victoria a few months prior. He was sure she had given him the name, but he couldn’t recall it. “Sorry, I don’t remember. I think it was the name of a painter, something like that. People who live there would know it.”
“No problem. I’d just like to go see him if we ever get out of all this. I can’t imagine why they would want to find him so badly.”
“I think it has something to do with his work.”
Luke looked at him. “What about his work?”
Devon shrugged. “Not sure. You worked with him, so I was hoping you could tell me.”
“I have no idea. Most of what we worked on was pretty standard fare. He kept the more cutting-edge work to himself.”
The two fell silent for a moment, lost in their own thoughts.
Finally, Luke stood. “Look, I’ll be right back. Nature is calling.”
Devon nodded. “I think I’ll do the same.”
Devon walked over to a nearby tree. As he relieved himself, he thought about the group’s rabid desire to find his uncle. He wondered what he could possibly know that would warrant kidnapping two people. Interestingly, they had failed to find the one person who could give them…
Victoria. A chill ran down Devon’s spine. He’d been so focused on his own safety that he hadn’t given much thought to hers. She could be in danger. In fact, she was probably their next target. The only silver lining was that Victoria kept a low profile, which meant it would be tough for the average person to find her. Then again, these weren’t average people. As Devon zipped his pants, he vowed that if they got out of this alive, he would contact Victoria immediately. He would do that before anything else.
When Devon returned to the clearing, Luke was staring off into the distance.
“Everything okay?” Devon asked.
“I think so.”
“So what are you looking for?”
Luke shook his head. “I thought I heard something in the distance, but now I don’t.”
Devon pulled the coat tightly around him. “Thank you… for everything.”
Luke smiled. “You’re welcome.”
Devon looked toward the trees. “What now?”
“We’re going back to where we came from.”
Devon frowned. “That makes no sense. Why would we—” After turning, he froze in surprise. Luke was holding a pistol, and it was pointed at Devon’s chest. Devon held up a hand. “Whoa… what’s going on?”
Luke smiled. “When the drugs don’t work, we always have a plan B.”
Devon was about to respond when he heard footsteps coming from several different directions. A moment later, a half dozen guards entered the clearing.
“Did you get all of that?” Luke asked one of the men.
The man nodded. “The street name is Rembrandt. We already have someone checking property records. Hopefully, we’ll have something within the hour.”
Luke looked at Devon and winked. “You can keep the coat. Just our little way of saying thanks.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ZANE SPENT FORTY minutes searching the train for any signs that Carmen was still on board. He checked the restaurant, both bars, the day spa, and the gift shop, but it soon became clear she was gone. After he finished, Zane thought about searching the suite that was used by the group Carmen had met with, but while on his way, the conductor gave a final warning for those who wanted to get off before the seven o’clock departure.
As he made his way to the exit, Zane regretted not checking the group’s suite right away. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized there was almost no chance Carmen was there. She was with them, but there was a high likelihood they had all disembarked.
Zane trusted Carmen, yet he still worried about her. What if the group had placed that text in the draft folder? After giving it some thought, he didn’t think that was likely. Only Carmen would have put the phone in a box that Zane would recognize as being out of place. Not only that, but she had also put the message in the draft folder, something that all Delphi operatives were taught to do.
After getting off the train, Zane entered the station and purchased another coffee at a small café, and this time he planned on drinking it. After adding the compulsory dash of cream, he took a seat near the window, which would allow him to see who was passing through. Although it was highly likely Carmen was already gone, he held out a small measure of hope that he would spot her leaving with the others. If he did, he would follow them at a safe distance. If he didn’t see them, he would contact Brett to have him search for the location of Jonas Brehmer’s home. Brett was the master of finding people who didn’t want to be found. Even if a property’s ownership was hidden under layers of business entities, Delphi’s resident geek had an uncanny ability to root them out.
Zane took a sip of coffee and thought about the man behind all of the intrigue. The name Brehmer still didn’t sound familiar. Removing his phone, Zane and searched the name online. Within seconds, he learned that Brehmer was the CEO of the biophysics company Pallas Industries. Zane knew Pallas was the name of a figure in Greek mythology, but he couldn’t remember much about him.
As he reviewed the company’s financial information that was published online, he noted a curious paradox — for a company so large and successful, there was precious little information on its CEO. All of the online biographies of Brehmer were surprisingly brief. There were only a few interviews with him, and most of those were in German. Zane did find one interesting piece of information on Brehmer — an official profile on the Pallas website indicated he lived in Knightsbridge, a posh neighborhood in London. There was no mention of Lugano in the bio, nor any other locations.
Zane doubted the online information was valuable. The home in Knightsbridge was the one Brehmer gave for public consumption, which probably meant it held little value to someone who wanted to know more about the man. Zane guessed that a CEO of a company with the size and reach of Pallas was likely worth hundreds of millions of dollars. And if that was true, Brehmer probably owned properties across the globe.
After taking another sip of coffee, Zane looked out at the concourse. The station seemed fuller than before, probably because several trains were arriving and departing at the top of the hour. If he didn’t see Carmen in the next few minutes, he would leave and find a room to rent for the night.
Zane was about to turn back to his phone when his eyes fell on a woman walking on the opposite side of the concourse. Her blond hair and gait seemed familiar. Who is she? Then it hit him — she was the woman from the train, the one staying in the cabin next to Carmen.
He frowned. What was she doing in the station? The train would be leaving in a few minutes, which meant she must have disembarked for good. And if that was true, then where was her luggage? The only thing she carried was a large shoulder bag. It might be enough to hold one or two changes of clothes and a few toiletries, but little else. That was odd, to say the least. The L1 was a luxury train, not a commuter train. Boarding it without luggage would be like boarding a cruise ship with only a purse.