“They should have the block surrounded by now,” Mayor Paulson said. “If you’ll excuse me, I have business. Obviously. One of my people can take you home. Andrea, you should go home, too.”
“No, I’m staying until Mark is safe.”
“Fine.” He pointed at an aide, then continued on, his entourage trailing in a wake behind him. Andrea went with him. Celia let them go. She’d done the polite thing and left her cell phone at home, but now she needed to make a call.
The mayor had left her staring up at a bulky, bodyguard-looking man in a suit, who stared back, expressionless. He gave the impression that he’d pick her up and sling her over his shoulder if she argued.
She tried anyway. “I think I can make my own way home. I appreciate the thought, though.”
“I think the mayor would prefer that I see you safely home.”
He was probably one who prided himself on following orders. Not quite clever enough for her to be able to talk into letting her go. Too bad she didn’t want to go home just yet.
“Then do you mind if I go find a phone to call my folks? Tell them I’m okay? If they hear there’s been a kidnapping, they’ll assume it was me who was kidnapped and I don’t want them to worry.”
He considered a moment, nodded coolly, and followed her to the coat-check desk. She asked the clerk there if she could use the phone.
She dialed, the phone rang; a stern, accusing voice answered. “This is a secure line, how did you get this number?”
The bodyguard watched her, listening in, she assumed. She turned her back to him and spoke softly. “Hi, Robbie. It’s Celia.”
His tone changed from suspicious to amiable. Off guard duty and talking to a friend, now. “Oh, hey, kid! What’s wrong?”
Such a vote of confidence. “You guys hear anything about an attack at the symphony tonight?”
“Yeah. We’re monitoring. The police say they have it under control.”
Surprised, her brow furrowed. The situation didn’t look under control. She hunkered closer to the phone. “Really? Because the attackers took Mark Paulson hostage.”
Robbie hesitated a moment, then said, “Detective Paulson? Not you?” There was a laugh behind the voice. She supposed it sounded funny on his end.
“They took me first. Then Mark decided he had to be a hero.”
“That must be a nice switch.”
“I’d have preferred it if they’d taken me. I wouldn’t do something brave and stupid that would get me killed. My first real date in months and he gets kidnapped right off my arm.”
“Aw, kid, I’m sorry.” He sounded genuinely sympathetic.
“Can you let me know if you hear anything? I’m getting to like the guy and I’d hate for something to happen to him.”
“Will do. I’ll pass on the news about Paulson. The cops didn’t tell us that part.”
Which was weird. Mayor’s son gets kidnapped and the cops didn’t mention it? They probably wanted to save Mark themselves and get brownie points with the mayor, rather than letting the Olympiad have all the glory, again.
“Thanks.”
She gave the phone back to the coat-check clerk. The bodyguard was still lurking nearby. Had to be a way around him. Maybe if she didn’t hate being chaperoned so much she wouldn’t get kidnapped. Go live at West Plaza like her mother wanted.
For a moment she thought about claiming that she needed to use the restroom, then sneaking out the window, or an emergency exit, or—
On the other hand, this could save her cab fare.
She turned to him and smiled. “All right. I’m ready.”
The police were interviewing everyone in the place; they weren’t letting anyone leave until they’d recorded contact information and followed every lead. Celia’s chaperone cut right through the chaos and left the symphony hall in minutes.
He drove her in an unmarked government sedan. She gave him an