The name struck a chord. It was a name Reeve had heard often in his less publicized work in law enforcement. Deboque was a businessman, a successful one who’d exported drugs, women, guns. He’d dealt in everything from controlled substances to explosives, selling to the highest bidder.

Or he’d been successful, Reeve amended, until a concentrated three-year investigation had unmasked and convicted him. It was widely believed that during the two years Deboque had served so far, he’d continued to pull the strings in his organization.

“So you think Deboque’s behind it?”

“Deboque kidnapped Gabriella,” Armand said simply. “We have only to prove through whom.”

“And you know?” Reeve paused, at last thinking coolly. To accuse anyone close would cause an uproar. Only clear-cut proof would dim it. Only precise proof could tie Deboque in and stop what maneuvers and political machinations he’d already begun. “Can Deboque pull the strings of power in Cordina even from a cell?”

“He believes he’s already begun. I think with this”—Armand turned his hand toward the thermos—“it should be a simple matter to twist his string and name one. The other is more difficult.” He looked down at his hands a moment, at the ring only he could wear. Some emotion ran quickly over his face. Reeve thought it was regret. “I told you I know where Gabriella spent the night.”

“Yes. With me.”

Emotion flared again, and was just as quickly controlled. “You’re the son of an old friend and a man I respect for himself, but it’s difficult to be calm even though I know she went to you. Intellectually, I accept that she’s a woman. However …” He trailed off. “Tell me your feelings for Gabriella. This time I ask as her father.”

Still standing, Reeve looked down into Armand’s face. “I’m in love with her.”

Armand felt the break, bittersweet, that a parent feels when a child gives love and loyalty to another. “It’s time I told you what has been done. And time I asked for your advice.” Armand gestured to a chair and waited. There were no more questions. This time Reeve sat.

They talked quietly, calmly for twenty minutes, though each of them fought his own personal emotional war. Once Armand went to a cabinet and poured two snifters of brandy. The plan was solid. One more of the reasons he’d maneuvered to have Reeve in Cordina was to have the advantage of Reeve’s mind, his experience.

The suspects were closely watched. The moment Brie began to remember, the next move would be made. If all went accordingly, Brie would never be in danger.

But things don’t always go according to plan.

* * *

Brie swept into her office, temper bubbling, to find Janet filing. Immediately, the papers still in her hand, Janet turned and curtsied.

“Your Highness. I didn’t expect you back today.”

“I need to work.” Going straight to her desk, she began to flip through papers. “Do we have the personal menu for the guests who attend the dinner before the ball?”