sangria washing through her and made herself focus. “This guy yesterday, he was by himself?”
“Yeah. A grad student at the Sorbonne.”
French grad students weren’t Kira’s type. Not as far as Rebecca knew. “What was he studying?” Like it mattered.
Tony shrugged.
“When exactly was this?” Brian said.
“Last night, this café on the Place de la République, the Toucan, I think it’s called. We were sitting, he came in, like a minute later he was with us. I left, but they talked for an hour at least. She was totally into it.” Tony spoke with the dull envy of a virgin who expected he’d be that way forever.
“And this guy, Jacques, he came down here to see her?”
“That’s what she told me, that was the plan. He texted her this morning.”
“Why didn’t she tell me? Us?” Though Rebecca could already guess the answer.
“She said you’d freak. He’s older, like twenty-six.”
“Do you remember what he looked like?” Rebecca said.
“Short hair, almost like a military cut.”
“Was it black?”
“I think brown. He was good-looking. Tall. Ripped. White. He didn’t really look like a student. Kira said he was a personal trainer on the side.”
At least Rebecca understood Kira’s interest better. Tall and ripped was more her type.
“Did she say anything else?”
“Just that they were going to meet at that place at eleven.”
Timing that meant Kira hadn’t planned to come back here before one at the earliest.
“Do you know if she told him anything about us, about me? Like where I worked?”
“I told you, I left them alone, but I don’t think you were a big part of the conversation, Mom.”
“Can you give me and Dad a second?”
“Really?” Tony looked dismayed, no surprise.
“Really.”
“Yeah whatever.” He walked out.
* * *
“Did you notice anything weird in Paris?”
“The baguettes were stale that one place.”
Brian had a habit of joking at the worst possible times. She told herself he deflected tension with humor. Though she wondered whether at his core he had some unmeltable male immaturity. Even after they were married and had kids, so many men worried more about fantasy football than becoming fully formed adults.
But she was only distracting herself from the conversation they had to have.
“I’m serious, Bri. Did you notice anything weird when we were there?”
“I don’t know what you mean by ‘weird.’ ”
Sometimes she feared marriage was nothing more than endless simultaneous gaslighting. You’re immature! No, you’re crazy!
“Because a month ago the agency”—the CIA—“passed us a tip that the Islamic State was looking to kidnap the family of an American diplomat or any USG personnel in Europe.” The FBI loved acronyms; USG was standard shorthand for “United States government.”
“How come you didn’t tell me?”
“It wasn’t actionable. Didn’t mention a specific country. Plus, the story was they were looking for a kid, snatch-and-grab, maybe on the way to school. I didn’t want to bother you with it.”
Plus, she knew what he would have said: Come on, Becks. The Islamic State barely exists anymore. If you changed your mind about the trip you don’t need a fake terrorist plot.
“Okay, you got this tip.”
“But that was the end of it, pretty much. No follow-up. I basically forgot. But the reason I mention it, yesterday in Paris, I swear I felt like somebody picked us up outside the hotel—”
“As in we had a tail?”
“Two. Male and female. I saw them on the Métro near the Arc de Triomphe and then at Sacré-Coeur. Then I thought maybe I saw the woman later.”
“You didn’t say anything.”
“What was I supposed to say? Anyway, the guy I saw wasn’t tall and had black hair. It can’t have been the guy Kira met.”
Now that she’d told him, the story sounded ridiculous to her own ears, the product of too much sangria. In the unlikely chance that this kidnapping plot was real, the original version made more sense. Grab a kid. She figured Brian would tell her to relax, finish her wine.
Instead he stood. “Come on. Let’s check the bar.”
She realized she’d hoped he would tell her to relax. “You sure?”
“Better safe than sorry. Hey, Tony…”
Tony popped into the room like he’d been listening in the hall. Maybe he had. Not that it mattered.
“We’re gonna go find your sister,” Brian said. “If she texts you, tell her to stay where she is and text us right away.”
“And promise you won’t go anywhere,” Rebecca said. “Promise.”
“I promise. Is everything cool?”
“Kira’s about to get grounded for the rest of her life,” Brian said. “But it’s fine.”