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“It’s Kat.”
Mattie heard weight in her friend’s voice. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
There was a long hesitation before Katharina replied, “Chris is missing.”
Sophia went to a high-backed leather chair and plopped into it. “I need a Coke or something,” she said. “Maybe some rum in it.”
But Mattie ignored her and listened intently to her phone.
“He took personal leave early last week,” Katharina was saying. “He was supposed to be back the day before yesterday, but he never checked in. He still hasn’t. I’ve tried his cell, the house, e-mail, text. Nothing.”
This wasn’t like Chris Schneider at all, Mattie agreed. He was a careful, methodical detective, and a stickler for following the agency’s rules and procedures, which included checking in when you were supposed to.
“You try the chip?” Mattie asked at last.
The year before, Private employees around the world had been offered a small locator chip that could be embedded under the skin of the upper back so they could be found in case of emergencies. Mattie had balked at the idea, thinking that if it was misused it could turn totalitarian in nature.
But to her surprise, Schneider had agreed to the procedure.
“That’s why I was calling,” Katharina replied before hesitating again. “I’m lying in bed, couldn’t sleep after some voodoo tea my mother made me drink. And I was thinking that you could authorize it.”
“I don’t have that authority, Kat,” Mattie said.
“You’re the closest to it, Mattie.”
“Not anymore I’m not. Are you ready to report Chris missing to Kripo?”
“I don’t know. I’m confused. You know…he could be off with someone.”
Mattie hesitated, and then sighed. “I can’t control that.”
“I’d hate to send in a rescue team in that sort of situation.”
“I can see your dilemma, but I can’t help you. Look, you’re going to have to call Jack Morgan to get authorization.”
Morgan owned Private and ran its famous Los Angeles office.
“I put in a call to him an hour ago. He hasn’t gotten back to me.”
Mattie chewed on her lip, then said, “I’m sure he’s okay. But if he hasn’t checked in by noon, say, or if Jack hasn’t called in, we’ll activate the chip.”
“Unless you hear from me, I’ll be at the office at noon,” Katharina said.
“I’ll be there too,” Mattie promised, and hung up.
Outside, thunder boomed and through a porthole window she saw lightning split the sky. Rain began to drum on the roof of the aircraft. Mattie looked over at Sophia, who was watching her with genuine concern.
“Who’s Chris?” Sophia asked softly.
Mattie swallowed at a sick taste seeping into her throat, and then replied, “Until six weeks ago, countess, he was my fiancé.”
FIVE
AS DAWN APPROACHES, I find myself standing in a room with mirrors for walls and ceiling, and a big round bed with red sheets.
I am naked in this room of mirrors, stripped of all disguises save one—the reconstructed face a surgeon in the Ivory Coast gave me twenty-three years ago.
I look at my face, this ultimate mask, and smile because no one would ever know that behind it is me, and because a rare beauty has agreed to join me here in this room of reflection and pleasure.
