The Innocents Club
Senior CIA analyst Mariah Bolt remembers her late father as the man who abandoned his family to run off to Europe with another woman. Ben Bolt's fans remember him somewhat differently, and revere him as a literary genius.
But like it or not, Mariah has become the reluctant guardian of his legacynever suspecting she has also inherited a ticking time bomb.
As she is about to depart on a much-needed vacation with her teenage daughter, Mariah is called in on an urgent assignmentto lure a man into betraying his country. There's only one hitchto get to this man she has to cross paths with her father's old lover. Suddenly the past is back with a vengeance.
One old friend will betray her and another will be murdered, as Mariah discovers how little she really knows about her father's lifeand his death. And when her fifteen-year-old daughter goes missing, Mariah will be reminded once more that there are no limits in the terrifying game of international espionage.
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Praise for the novels of TAYLOR SMITH
“The Innocents Club is an exciting espionage thriller….”
—Midwest Book Review
“Fifteen rounds of sturdy international espionage-cum-detection….”
—Kirkus Reviews on The Innocents Club
Taylor Smith…John Grisham “…it’s a perfectly plausible comparison—though Smith’s a better prose stylist.”
—Publishers Weekly on Random Acts
“The mix of suspense, forensic science, romance and mystery make this a real page-turner.”
—Orange Coast on Random Acts
“The story line is fast-paced and filled with numerous twists…Taylor Smith…continues her amazing rapid climb to the top rung…”
—Painted Rock Reviews on Random Acts
“Sharp characterization and a tightly focused time frame…give this intrigue a spellbinding tone of immediacy.”
—Publishers Weekly on The Best of Enemies
“The pace is swift and the action is concentrated…making it a perfect summer read.”
—Orange Coast on The Best of Enemies
“In this absorbing tale…characters are engaging…”
—Publishers Weekly on Common Passions
Also available from MIRA Books and TAYLOR SMITH
GUILT BY SILENCE
COMMON PASSIONS
THE BEST OF ENEMIES
RANDOM ACTS
DEADLY GRACE
This book could only be for Amy Moore-Benson, with heartfelt gratitude for her insight, her perseverance and her unflagging grace. Here’s to the wonder of new beginnings.
ACKNOWLEDGMENT
My deepest thanks to those who offered their expertise and encouragement throughout this project. If I played fast and loose with the facts, it’s through no fault of theirs. I am especially grateful to members of the Newport Beach Police Department, who have been extraordinarily kind and helpful, particularly Dale Johnson, Don Gage, Ken Cowell, Mike Jackson and Dave Sperling. Thanks, too, to Dr. Ed Uthman, Ken Keller, Gary Bale and Luis Hernandez for coming up with answers when I needed them. For unflagging moral support, I thank Patricia McFall, Philip Spitzer, the Fictionaires (Orange County’s finest fiction writers) and family members near and far (most especially my wonderful Richard, Kate and Anna, who make life a joy even on the darkest of days).
No one could be more thankful than I for the steadfast commitment and hard work of the talented people at MIRA, beginning with Editorial Director Dianne Moggy. My warmest thanks to them all, most particularly Randall Toye, Katherine Orr, Stacy Widdrington, Greg Sarney, Heather Locken, Krystyna de Duleba and her brilliant design team, and, last but never least, Alex Osuszek and his enthusiastic team, the folks who bring stories and readers together.
To forget one’s ancestors is to be a brook without a source, a tree without a root.
—ancient Chinese proverb
Contents
Prologue
She was exhausted. Wounded, bleeding, swimming for her life. Lungs on fire. Thin arms and legs aching from cold and the effort of pumping against heavy surf. A silent cry arose inside her, fueled by equal measures of pain, fear and indignation: I can’t do this!
As a young woman, Renata thought, she might have had a chance. She’d been fit then, and strong, albeit more than a little spoiled—the indulged only child of one of the world’s wealthiest men. But she was sixty-one years old now, for heaven’s sake. She hadn’t the stamina she once had.
Her brain snapped an obvious response: Swim or die, you fool!
She glanced nervously over her shoulder as, behind her in the dark, deep voices sounded, exchanging terse, furious commands. Had they spotted her, a tiny form bobbing on the star-sparkled water? Were they following? They seemed so close.
No, she tried to reassure herself. Not that close. It was just an acoustic trick of the clear night air. They were far away, too far even to be seen very clearly, though the sweep of the searchlight told her they hadn’t yet abandoned the hunt for her.
Only her?
A flash of shame passed through her as she thought of the young girl she’d abandoned on deck. What kind of woman leaves a child in mortal danger while she flees to save her own skin? Was it true what her husband had once said about her? Renata wondered. That there was something unnatural about a woman without empathy?
Her stroke slowed. Keeping low and still, she peered back at the boat, trying to distinguish between the silhouettes on the deck, but her vision wasn’t what it had once been, either. If the girl was still on board, Renata couldn’t make her out.
Perhaps, she rationalized, Lindsay, too, had managed to escape, leaping overboard in the confusion that had followed her own break for freedom. The girl appeared delicate, but they said she was a competitive swimmer. So, if she had gotten away, she had as much a chance as Renata herself of making it to safety. Maybe even better. After all, Renata thought resentfully, the girl had youth on her side.
