Baby Trouble: The Spy's Secret Family

The door opened.

Laura pitched her voice in a sexy contralto. “Mr. Kloffman? I work for the United States government. Do you have a few minutes to speak with me?”

“Of course. Please come in.”

Bingo. Show time.

Chapter 8 (#ulink_9cecfc60-aeef-57ae-a33e-539ab21c3ae1)

Laura was surprised at how easily it all came back to her—the technical skill, intense focus, the cold calm. Her mindset also included absolute willingness to do whatever violence was necessary to find and rescue her son.

As she passed through the front door, she placed her shoe strategically in front of the wood panel. Nick materialized behind her and had slipped inside before Kloffman was even aware of the man behind her.

“Who in the hell are you?” Kloffman growled as he caught sight of Nick.

“My name’s Nikolas Spiros, Herr Kloffman.”

The German spluttered, looking back and forth between the two of them. “You! I thought I recognized you. You’re that Delaney woman.”

“That’s correct,” Laura answered grimly. “We need to chat, sir.”

“How dare you? How did you find me? I want my lawyer.”

“This isn’t that kind of chat, Werner,” Nick said in an entirely too pleasant tone of voice. “Shall we step into the living room?”

The German must have sensed the threat underlying Nick’s words and moved without comment into an antique-filled parlor. A thrill coursed through her at the danger in Nick’s voice. She remembered sharply why she’d been attracted to him in the first place. It had been this sense of sexy risk that had clung to him.

Kloffman sank down in a wingback chair and stared defiantly at the two of them.

“So here’s the deal, Werner,” Laura said reasonably. “We’re going to ask you a series of questions. If you give us the right answers, we’ll leave and not bother you again. If you give us the wrong answers, you are going to have a very long night. We’d like to keep this civilized, but we are under no obligation to do so. Understood?”

Kloffman swore under his breath in German. “I know who you are. I’ll see you both in jail for this.”

Nick shrugged. “Panicked parents politely question the man most likely to have kidnapped their son, and you think any jury in the world is going to do more than slap our wrists?”

“I didn’t kidnap your son!”

“Of course you didn’t,” she replied smoothly. “The same way you didn’t kidnap Nick. Your flunkies did it for you. Plausible deniability is important for a man in your position, is it not?”

He shrugged, obviously aware that answering the question couldn’t help his cause.

“Surely you knew about Nick’s kidnapping and the kidnappings of dozens of other people who were held aboard your ships. It must have been a profitable little side business. What were you getting for your special guest service? A million dollars a year per prisoner? More?”

Nick stiffened beside her. His rage was palpable at being in the presence of the man who very likely was the kingpin behind his kidnapping.

“Care to comment on who paid to have Nick kidnapped?” she asked without warning.

Kloffman’s gaze darted back and forth between them. He definitely knew something he wasn’t sharing with them.

“His loving wife, perhaps?” Laura snapped.

“I have no idea.” Kloffman’s eyes slid down and to the left, a sure tell that he was lying.

Laura leaned in close. “Was it her? Yes or no.”

“No.” Another glance at the floor and a jump of the pulse pounding in his temple.

She looked up at Nick grimly. “At least that mystery’s solved. It was your bitch of a wife.” She looked back down at Kloffman. “Where’s our son?”

“Why would I kidnap some child?” Kloffman demanded angrily. “I’m not a monster.”

“Five years in a box on one of your ships says that’s not true,” Nick snarled.

Kloffman subsided, glaring belligerently.

Laura spoke grimly. “The fact remains that no one but you has both the means and the motive to kidnap our son and pressure Nick not to testify against your firm. AbaCo’s going down in flames next week and Nick is the spark that’s going to ignite the firestorm.”

Kloffman smiled coldly. “AbaCo is by no means going down in flames. Quite the contrary.”

A chill passed down her spine. The German was entirely too sure of himself for her comfort. He should be sweating bullets if he was involved in Adam’s kidnapping. But instead, he was sitting here as smug as could be, actually smirking at her.

She pulled out her pistol, and it had the desired effect on Kloffman. He paled. She spoke grimly. “Convince me why I should believe that you and AbaCo had nothing to do with our son’s disappearance.”

Kloffman’s lips pressed tightly shut and she leaned forward, caressing his cheek with the barrel of the weapon. Her voice was velvet. “You see, Herr Kloffman. I’m a mother. And if something bad happens to my baby boy, I’m not going to give a damn whether or not I live or die. It won’t matter to me one bit if I rot in jail for the rest of my life. So I have nothing to lose by putting a bullet through your knee—or through your head.”

Kloffman began to tremble and a fat bead of sweat ran down the side of his face. Now he was getting into the proper spirit of things.

“I swear. I had nothing to do with your son’s kidnapping.”

Nick replied tersely, “Convince us you and your goons didn’t do it.”

Kloffman stammered, “I’m sure nobody in the firm would do such a thing without my approval.”

Nick leaped all over that. “So you’re admitting that no major black ops happen at AbaCo without your knowledge?”

“Are you kidding?”

Kloffman looked like he’d blurted that out without thinking. He fell silent and a thoughtful look entered his eyes. She gave him as long as he wanted to work through whatever was on his mind. Nick also looked inclined to let the man stew in his thoughts for the time being.

Eventually, Kloffman said heavily, “Many things happen without my knowledge at AbaCo. I’m purely a figurehead around there.”

Laura stared. The statement had a definite ring of truth to it. The guy was a figurehead? “Who’s the real power at AbaCo, then?”

Kloffman glared at Nick. “As Ms. Delaney put it so succinctly, a cabal of criminals put in place by your bitch of a wife.”

“Can you prove that?” Laura demanded.

“Why should I?” Kloffman shot back.