Body of Evidence (Evidence Series) Read Free

into the distance as they climbed to cruising altitude. Curt pulled out his cell phone and a minute later said, “Mr. President, we’re in the air.”

    M ARA COULDN’T STOP trembling. She burrowed under the blanket and tucked it around her knees, but the quaking wouldn’t stop. She leaned her forehead against the window and forced herself to breathe slowly. Below, North Korea faded from view.
    She took another deep breath and exhaled, fogging the glass and erasing the outside world. The knot of tension in her belly began to uncoil.
    “Here, ginger ale should help.”
    She turned to see the man who’d saved her life standing in the aisle, frowning at her and holding out a drink. With ice.
    The clink of the ice against the glass conjured the memory of the lukewarm water her captors had provided with her daily serving of kimchi. She’d eaten while sitting on the cold hard floor of her tiny cell, surrounded by thick concrete walls that blocked all sound and light. She’d endured many things while imprisoned, and lukewarm water didn’t even rate a mention on the most detailed list of grievances, yet the sight of the clear cubes triggered a rush of emotions. Sadness, joy, guilt, and fear all tumbled over one another. Pathetic to face a firing squad only to be brought low by a handful of ice.
    She rubbed her temples, trying to hide her struggle to stave off tears. She was lucky to be alive to have this nutty breaking point, and she had the man in front of her to thank for that.
    The fact that he was the US attorney prosecuting her uncle only made his heroic actions more baffling. Marginally composed, she accepted the cold glass. “Thanks,” she said and downed the soda in one long drink. She set the empty glass on the table, revived by the sugary jolt, and then faced him. His hazel eyes studied her, causing her belly to flutter and cheeks to heat.
    Her emotions were seriously whacked if Curt Dominick—of all people—caused a fluttery reaction. But he’d flown halfway around the world at a moment’s notice to save her. Didn’t that warrant a major change in her opinion of him?
    She shook off her reaction. She could freak out about it later; right now she had questions that needed answers. “This plane is empty,” she said. “Where is everyone?”
    “P’yŏngyang insisted I come alone. No envoy team. Just me and the pilots.”
    The information surprised her, but he’d misunderstood. “No, I meant where is my JPAC team? Where is Jeannie Fuller? Where is Evan Beck? Where are the others?”
    He startled. “You don’t know?”
    She shook her head. “No one would tell me. And I had to be careful with what I said—I didn’t know if they were being tried as well. If they were, then my words could be used against them.” She paused and stared at the condensation gathering on the glass in front of her, seeing instead Roddy’s easy confidence as he drove her away from the safety of the site and straight to the Demilitarized Zone. “But I’m here, and they aren’t. Where are they?” She held her breath, grateful she’d finally know the truth. If her team was safe, then keeping her silence about what Roddy had done would be worth it.
    “They arrived in the US two days after you were arrested.”
    Her pent-up breath left in a rush. “ All of them?”
    “Yes.”
    Including Roddy. Don’t focus on that. Think about the team. Jeannie, her best friend and coworker, was safe. As were several men she’d worked with for years.
    She turned again to her rescuer. His intent gaze met hers, those clear, hazel eyes probed, assessed. “The State Department needs to know what happened to you. You need to tell me everything.”
    The State Department or Curt Dominick? The man was gunning for her uncle. She had to be careful with what she said, because Roddy was only a contractor to JPAC. His true employer was Raptor, the private security firm her uncle had taken a job with after his term as vice president ended.
    The man