The Sketcher's Mark (Lara McBride Thrillers Book 1) by Chris O'Neill Page A

power to let that happen.  I will bring the money to you and you can allow her to go free.”
    “I’ve read all the same books you have and I’ve been here before, so I know what you’re doing.  Tell me, Lara, are you a cop or a psychiatrist?”
    “I’m a Detective with the LAPD.”
    “Ah. I understand.  That explains so much.  You think you can negotiate with me and win.  Let me tell you, there were others who came looking for their sisters and daughters before.  I didn’t make deals with them back then, what makes you think I’ll make a deal with you now?”
    “Because they weren’t me .”
    Lara stopped, considering the profile she was building on him while he spoke. He was right- she had tried appeals to his vanity and ego, attempted to offer money and trade for her sister and she had encountered psyches as simple as those before and knew how to work them, but he was different.  He was interested in being pursued. Attention.  He wanted attention.
    “Do you want me to call the press?  I already talked to the US Embassy and the Police.”
    “Useless, aren’t they?  No, let’s keep this between us.”
    “Why did you take her- and the others?”
    “I have work to do and they’re part of it.  They’re so blessed and they don’t even know how special they are.”
    “Nobody knows.  You haven’t shared what you’re doing with anyone.”
    “Of course not.”
    “Do you want to share it with me?  Tell me where to meet you and you can show me what it is you’re doing.”
     
    A long pause.  She knew she had hit a nerve in him.  There was something he desperately wanted to share- they all had a thirst for recognition and a validation of power that was usually born from years of abuse and neglect.  This wasn’t true for all of them, but there were many like this, the pathetically desperate and incredibly dangerous attention seekers.  This one seemed more sophisticated than the ones she had encountered, but they all shared the same kind of raw nerves that, when she figured out what they were, allowed her to manipulate them while making them think they were still in control. 
    “How much money can you get?” he asked, surprising her.
    Lara took a breath, feeling she had him on the hook and went in for the kill.
    “I have about thirty thousand dollars.  I can go to a bank and get it today.  You tell me where you want me to meet you.” 
    “Your sister is a centerpiece.  I don’t know that I want to lose her.”
    Centerpiece.  Perhaps he was arranging them.  Displaying them. A “centerpiece”.
    “Where do you want to meet?” she urged.
    “You’re persistent, Lara, I will give you that.”  He sounded amused.
    “You’re intrigued.  You want to get a look at me.”
    “I’m watching you right now.”
    Lara felt her flesh break out as chills ran up her arms.  She looked around the square, seeing people everywhere, many of them talking on cell phones.  She scanned as many faces as she could to spot any of them looking at her.
    “I saw you yesterday at Notre Dame.  The Police were…harsh.”
    “I’ve been told you guys do things differently out here.  So why don’t you?  Meet with me.  Get up close and look me in the eyes not across some bullshit crowd.”
    “Come to the Quay d’Orsay at eight.  Bring the money.”
    “You’ll bring Janelle?”
    “I’ll think about it.  But I will be there.  No Police, just you.  Let’s keep this personal,” he said and hung up.
     
    Lara took off, racing past a group of sketch artists perched above the square, drawing portraits for tourists.  Guillotine was sat among them, sketching a pretty young Japanese girl. He smiled at her and said,
    “This one’s my pleasure, Madam.”
     
    Chapter Fifteen
     
    She sat in the back of the unmarked Police van as the Tactical Team Brouchard had assembled geared up.  Big, hulking men in body armor, pistols on their belts and semi-automatic rifles and shotguns being locked and