without the indoctrination?”
“Where did you meet her, Thomas?” Bastien asked quietly.
“In New York,” Thomas answered.
Bastien rarely spent much time in the New York office, keeping Canada as his main base to work from, but the whole family had been there for Lucern and Kate’s wedding. It was where Bastien had met and briefly lost his lifemate, Terri.
“The afternoon Inez arrived, I knew she’d be tired from the flight,” Bastien informed him quietly. “So we just had the meeting to introduce her to everyone—the meeting you walked in on—and then I sent her to her hotel. I intended to indoctrinate her the next day, but Terri arrived from England and…I got distracted by her turning and everything and…” He blew his breath along the phone line. “I ended up just telling Inez she was promoted and sending her back. I called Wyatt in England and told him to just keep her away from any information that was too revealing and I’d fly over and indoctrinate her at the first chance, but then there was the trouble in California with Vincent’s saboteur, then Morgan cropped up to cause his own difficulties, and now Mother is missing and I’m trying to arrange the wedding, but now it’s a double wedding with Lucian and Leigh, and Donny is driving me absolutely mad, and—”
“Bastien,” Thomas interrupted his ranting. “I get it. Despite all outward appearances, you’re not perfect, dude. You screwed up. Get over it.”
Another long, drawn-out sigh slid down the phone line. It was followed by a quiet, “Thomas?”
“Yeah?” he asked with amusement, hearing the annoyance in his voice.
“Never mind,” Bastien muttered and then asked, “Do you have any ideas on how you’re going to find Mother?”
“A few,” he admitted reluctantly. “I thought I’d call the other hotels in London to make sure she hasn’t just booked into another one. If that doesn’t turn up anything, we’ll have to check car rental agencies and trains and flights…”
“That’s a hell of a lot of calls. Even with the two of you working at it, it could take forever. There are hundreds of hotels in London,” Bastien muttered unhappily.
“Yeah,” Thomas agreed quietly, his mind returning to an idea he’d had on the flight over. He hesitated over mentioning it, sure Bastien would think it was stupid, but then sighed and admitted, “I had a thought on the plane.”
“What’s that?” Bastien asked hopefully.
“Well, I read an article a couple months back about tracking cell phones. If I can track Aunt Marguerite’s cell it might be the fastest way to find her.”
“They can track phones?” Bastien asked with interest.
“Yeah. Maybe it’s only when a nine-one-one call is placed from the phone in the states and Canada, though. I’m not sure, but I’m going to check into it and see if it’s possible. I have a techie friend who just moved back to England last year who should be able to help me with that. If it can be done, I’m going to try to track her that way.”
“That’s a good idea,” Bastien said.
Thomas scowled at the surprise in his voice and said dryly, “I do have the occasional worthy idea, Bastien. I know you and Lucern think I’m a loafer and an idiot, but—”
“We don’t,” Bastien interrupted. “We know you’re intelligent and creative and—”
“Yeah, right,” Thomas interrupted with amused disbelief.
“We do. Really, we—” He released a slow breath and then he said, “Look, Thomas. Lucern and I know about your music.”
Thomas stiffened at the bald announcement and then asked warily, “You do?”
“Yes. Vincent mentioned it. He didn’t know it was a secret,” Bastien said, answering the unspoken question.
Thomas grimaced. He’d been composing music for Vincent’s plays for decades. It hadn’t occurred to him that now that Vincent and Bastien were talking