The Taken Read Online Free Page B

“Kit, the men on this list could own you a thousand times over.”
    Kit clenched her teeth at the dig. She came from money, a fortune Paul once thought would marry perfectly with his ambitions, and he’d married her before realizing the entire inheritance had been poured back into her family’s newspaper. He’d even encouraged her to sell once he realized newspapers were worth less in the Internet age than the paper used for printing, but there was no way she’d ever do that.
    “I’m a newsperson, Paul,” she’d told him. “It’s who I am as much as what I do.”
    “Then go down with your ship,” he’d replied. “But you’re not taking me with you.”
    And he’d taken himself right out of her life.
    “Being rich doesn’t make a person immune to the law,” she said now, another familiar argument.
    “There’s no proof that anyone on this list has broken the law,” Paul pointed out.
    She knew that. And it would take considerable resources—time, energy, favors, and yes, money—to prove otherwise. For now, Kit had her reporter’s instincts. “I saw something.”
    “Tonight?” He leaned in again when she nodded. “What?”
    “A man . . . or his silhouette, at least. He was in the room with Nic. He pulled aside the curtain that overlooked the parking lot. It was like he was looking right at me.”
    “Did you see his face?”
    Kit shook her head. “No. Only his silhouette. But he was wearing a hat—not just a hat, but a stingy brim, like Sinatra—”
    Paul leaned back, letting his hands drop. “Gimme a break.”
    “I know the style, Paul,” Kit said, irritated. “Maybe he knew I was there, or just knows of my lifestyle, and he was taunting me.”
    “Please don’t repeat that to anyone. I can see the sordid headlines now: Rockabilly Murderer Targets Street Whores.”
    “Bravo,” Kit snapped. “You just insulted my life and my profession in one breath.”
    “Voice,” Paul reminded her, gaze wandering. The girls across from him straightened, but his expression remained smooth as it traveled the rest of the room.
    Kit pulled out her gold cigarette case, mumbling, fighting not to whack it against his pretty head.
    “You can’t smoke in here.”
    Kit blew a stream of smoke directly into his face, running her tongue along her top lip when he coughed. The girls gave her a nasty look.
    “These are vintage Gauloises.”
    “Trolling eBay again?”
    She shook her head. “Some old coot was storing them in a backwoods cabin for the past fifty years.”
    Shaking his head, Paul stood. “I gotta go.”
    “Wait.” She put a hand on his arm, panicked but unable to help it. “You’re gonna help me, right?”
    His jaw clenched as he looked away. He was either considering it or posing for a profile shot. “You got anything else?” he finally asked.
    “In my notebook, but I gave that to Nic.” She cursed the impulse now. There was little chance of recovering it as it’d surely been admitted into evidence.
    Paul opened his mouth to answer, but stopped and jerked his chin at an approaching detective. “Here comes Dennis. He’ll look after you. You don’t need me tonight.”
    Kit stared up at him, wondering at what point he thought she’d have ever needed him, if not tonight.
    Glancing back down, Paul caught her expression and his jaw clenched. “Look, I’ll read the reports. Ask around, see what I hear.”
    He paused, waiting for a thank-you, but Kit merely took a drag on her stick. He was right, she didn’t need him.
    Shaking his head, he turned.
    “You know, Nicole was once your friend, too,” Kit said loudly, just as Dennis reached her side. “She was killed because someone was hiding something big.”
    Paul turned slowly, and waited, knowing there was really nothing he could do if she was determined to make a scene. It was just another thing he couldn’t control about her—like her hair and clothes, like her lifestyle. Like her emotions.
    “I’m going to find out who did it,”