Chasing Lies

by Sara Claridge

  She gave a small, sheepish smile. “I’d run out of ideas and time.”

  “An inspired guess?”

  “Something like that. Probably closer to desperation.”

  He frowned. “Why remove a line?”

  “I don’t know.” Kate raised her hands palms upwards. “It seems counter intuitive doesn’t it? I thought if I could find out what the line was, then I would stand a better chance of figuring it out.”

  “Have you located another copy of the poem?”

  Frustration clouded her eyes. “That’s the problem. There’s a museum in Paris that has a copy, but it’s locked away. I’ll need to go and see if somehow I can take a look. Except if I do that, then…”

  “You can’t follow me,” he interjected.

  “Yes, that and I’m not a field agent. I’m supposed to wait here.”

  He rose up and stepped away from the table. “Well, fortunately for you my next stop is Paris.”

  “It is?”

  It was now.

  A knock at the door drew both of their gazes. The security guard asked if everything was okay. They’d been some time in the room.

  “Just a minute.” He turned towards her, his most charming smile pasted on his face. Finally, they were getting somewhere. “En y va! Let’s grab a coffee and you can tell which museum it is, and I’ll arrange the access.”

  He picked up the necklace and placed it in the inside breast pocket of his jacket.

  A frown marred her brow. “You’re going to get her to put away an empty box?”

  “But only you and I know that, princesse.”

  ETIENNE WALKED INTO the hotel room and pushed the door closed with his foot. He looked across the suite to the night skyline beyond. Somewhere out there, Kate Jackson was no doubt furiously covering her sweet derrière to make sure neither the replacement agent nor her boss realised she was leaving for Paris.

  He sank down into the sofa, kicked off his shoes, and placed his feet on the coffee table in front of him. Her ambition was admirable, if a little misplaced. Before long she’d be stopped in her tracks. If not by him, then by someone else.

  The incident in the park proved that at least one other person knew about the chansons, and there was no way something like that would be kept quiet. Chances were that the guy was just going to sell the information to the highest bidder, anyway. Her leaving for Paris tomorrow might be more fortuitous than she realised.

  Picking up his phone, Etienne punched in a number, waited for the response, and then tapped in his code.

  “Castel.” The gravelly voice held the tone of both expectation and a question.

  Madame Morrier was a lifelong smoker. Of that he was certain. No one could speak like that without a forty a day habit. He hadn’t seen her often since she’d first recruited him several years ago, but she frequently took his calls. Particularly when she had a vested interest.

  “I’ve persuaded the girl to come with me.”

  “You’ve done what?”

  Etienne grimaced. Her tone clearly implied she thought he’d lost his mind. Unconsciously, he conjured up a picture of Kate, eyes wide and a startled gasp on her soft lips. Perhaps he had.

  Shaking his head to disperse the image, he cleared his throat. “I was right. She has a copy of the troubadour song stolen in the US two years ago.”

  “I hope you know what you’re doing, Castel.”

  “Don’t worry. It will only be for a short while, and then I’ll get rid of her.”

  “Cleanly.” Her tone was forceful. “You know I don’t like loose ends. That complication in the summer caused us no end of grief.”

  “I had no choice.”

  “For god’s sake, he dropped down right in front of her.”

  “He was going to shoot her first.” Etienne didn’t bother to hide his sarcasm. Insubordination was his stock in trade. Since he delivered results, Madame Morrier was happy to let him have his way. A point she’d reminded him of on numerous occasions.

  He switched the phone to his other ear and reached over for his laptop. “Have you more intel on Mercier?”

  “Yes. A report is being sent as we speak.” She paused. “He wants you dead, you know.”

  His lips rose into a wry smile. “A lot of people do.”

  She gave a throaty chuckle at his remark. “As far as we can tell, he’s sailing around to the south and has already stopped at a couple of private coves.”

  “Talking to potential buyers?”

  “Possibly, but there’s no other evidence to suggest it.”

  “Perhaps he doesn’t have it with him. He’d be too exposed to being robbed himself.” His mouth slanted up. “Now there would be an irony.”

  “Then he must be biding his time waiting for the buyer to show.”

  “Okay. I’ll be down in Marseilles in a day or so. I just need to stop off in Paris. Send me a message if it looks like the buyer has turned up.”

  There was a moment’s pause.

  “Castel?”

  “Still here.”

  “I was serious a moment ago. He’s on tape saying he wants you dead and the necklace in his hand. Watch your back.”

  “I always do.”

  “Be careful. It would be a shame to ruin that handsome face of yours.”

  She hung up before he could respond.

  Etienne leant back into the cushions, tossing his phone to one side. It wasn’t a surprise that Mercier wanted him dead. He’d carefully cultivated his reputation over the years to be known for playing on the darker side of life.

  If Mercier wanted him out of the way, that meant he must see Etienne as a threat, which was a good thing if he was to get a chance of retrieving the painting. It meant a meeting was inevitable.

  Was Madame Morrier right to question him bringing Kate along? He’d travel faster and lighter without her, and he was sure he could get a hold of the poem, even if she had no intention of handing it over.

  No, it was more than that. She’d done the research and knew them inside out. He needed someone who would be able to pinpoint information since he didn’t have the time to spare to study them. Besides, that glint her eyes said that she knew more than she was letting on. There had to be a connection between the painting, the necklace and the poems. Maybe she’d accidentally stumbled upon it. For the time being, she served a purpose and it was easier to keep her close.

  The fact that her smart, sassy, ruby lips distracted him was just one of life’s annoyances.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  KATE GLANCED UP at the station clock again. Ten past six. She huffed out a sigh. Where the hell was he? Scouring the ticket hall for what seemed like the eightieth time, she tapped her fingers against her legs.

  She’d scrambled to get to the station on time after the clerk in the hotel had taken forever to switch over Carl’s room to that of the new agent. Packing up Carl’s belongings and arranging for them to be shipped back to England had been surreal. A stark reminder of the danger she faced.

  A shiver skittered across her neck and she fought down the nervous thoughts that threatened. There was too much at stake to start getting cold feet now. As soon as she’d gotten the clerk to reserve her room to the end of the week, she’d sealed her fate.

  In her bag she had just a few essentials. The rest she’d left behind in the hotel room. If someone broke into her room, it might just be enough to fool them she was still in Maastricht, and so long as she could give Carl’s replacement the run around for a few days, her boss would presume she was, too.

  The station announcement called their train, and her stomach started to churn. If they missed this, they wouldn’t make the connection in Leige for the high speed train, which would mean they wouldn’t be in Paris until after lunch. Etienne had confirmed that he’d made the appointment with the museum for eleven, and she didn’t want to be late.

  “Looking for me?”

  Kate spun around. Relief flooded through her. She should have been annoyed with him standing ther
e looking so calm and relaxed after she’d spent the last ten minutes panicking they’d miss the train, but she was too glad that he’d actually turned up to care. “I thought you were going to be late.”

  He inclined his head. “You missed me. How sweet.”

  Her fists clenched. Seriously? Now she was irritated. “I didn’t miss you. If it wasn’t for the possibility that I might be able to retrieve the painting, I wouldn’t have anything to do with you.”

  “Now I’m hurt.”

  The glint in his eyes might say that he was teasing her, but it was all she could do to hold her tongue.

  “Come on. We don’t have time to delay. I’ve got the tickets, so let’s go.”

  She groaned at the implication that she’d been the one keeping him waiting.

  If he could feel the heat of her gaze boring into the back of his head as she followed him down the platform and onto the second carriage, he didn’t acknowledge it, which only served to agitate her further.

  She slowed her pace. Anger wasn’t going to give her the upper hand in this situation. She needed to get control of her emotions if she was to stay one step ahead of Etienne Castel. Stowing her bag beside the window, she slid into the seat opposite his.

  It was only then that she noticed his attire. Gone was the stylish suit of yesterday. Today he looked more like the man she’d met in the park. Dark jeans and a worn jacket over a crew neck jumper. The man on the street. He blended in perfectly. No one would think he was one of the wealthiest men in France. Her lips twisted in a wry smile. Nor an accomplished art thief.

  Her gaze roved over her own clothes beneath her winter coat. Plain suit, pale shirt, low heeled boots. She looked exactly like what she was, an insurance investigator. But she’d dressed for the Paris meeting.

  She crossed her arms. Damn the man. He hadn’t even spoken a word, and he had her defending her clothing choice to herself.

  The train juddered violently as it pulled out of the station. Her gaze flickered to Etienne, but his eyes were shut.

  Unhindered by his watchful gaze, she took the opportunity to examine him more closely. His brow, which had creased on more than one occasion when she’d done something to vex him, flowed into a nose so straight it should almost belong to a Greek statue.

  Her gaze narrowed. It was an unusual feature for someone who seemed to court danger. Or maybe he had broken it, but this was the result of having the money to afford the best plastic surgeon. She crinkled her nose, rejecting the idea. Etienne Castel was many things, but vain wasn’t one of them.

  The strong line of his jaw was matched by his high cheekbones, but the effect was softened by day old stubble. Was that part of the fitting in look, or had he been running late, too?

  Her idle survey of his face roamed to his mouth. Those lips might taunt and question her every move. But when he was like this, still as if patiently waiting, conserving energy for the right moment to strike, they had a magnetic force of their own, commanding her gaze. Would they be as hard and controlling as he was if he kissed her? Or would he take her lips softly like a thief in the night?

  Goosebumps crawled up her skin. Her gaze flew upwards. While she’d been daydreaming, Etienne had opened his eyes and caught her staring at his lips. Gold specks of desire flickered as his brown eyes darkened, and her heartbeat sped up.

  But just as fast as the emotion had appeared, he closed it down. His expression shuttered behind his usual impassive mask.

  Kate stared back at him, her mind whirling into overdrive. For a moment she’d glimpsed a different Etienne Castel, and the fight or flight instinct it induced was strong. She wanted to run. She wasn’t a fool. She knew he was a dangerous man. One she’d never voluntarily be travelling across France alone with, if it wasn’t for the painting.

  That look, though. That look sent shivers down her spine. Because it made her want to forget her principles, if only for just for one night.

  Disconcerted, she leant her head against the window and feigned sleep.

  Their connection time at Liège-Guillemins was short. They barely had enough time to head down the long platform. The train started to move just as they found their seats, side by side at the rear of the carriage. The saving grace was that this time they were in first class, so there was plenty of room between them.

  While her equilibrium had returned, sitting thigh to thigh with Etienne wouldn’t have been conducive to the calm she needed to carry out the final bit of research she’d planned on doing before their morning meeting.

  Pulling her laptop from her bag, she set it up on the fold down table and started to scroll through files until she found the document she was looking for.

  “Do you always take off with the subject of your inquiry?”

  She twisted in her seat and glared at him. “No, this is the first time.”

  “I expect your boss had something to say.”

  Her boss would have plenty to say if he knew. The only way to redeem herself from what Mr Barrett would undoubtedly see as a sackable offence would be a solid lead on the painting. She refocused her attention on the laptop.

  He leant in. “You know it would be faster if you dragged the image into the search box?”

  She elbowed him away from her. “Did anyone tell you shoulder surfing was rude?”

  He held his hands up in a defensive gesture. “Just trying to help.”

  “Thank you, but I know what I’m doing.” She adjusted the screen of her laptop to make it harder for him to see. “I’m just checking if there is more information online that might help speed up the process when we arrive.”

  “What happens if it’s not the right poem?”

  She sighed. It was a distinct possibility. One that had kept her awake last night. However, each time she’d tried to reason through the possibilities, she’d ended up questioning her own motives for going along with Etienne’s plan.

  “I’m hoping that’s not the case.”

  Etienne settled back in his seat, but she could still sense his gaze upon her. The train travelled at speed, racing through the countryside, while the silence stretched interminably between them.

  Eventually he stood up and stretched. “Coffee?”

  With the early morning start, she’d missed her normal routine and would kill for an injection of caffeine right now. She looked up at him and raised her lips into a half smile. “It’s nice of you to offer. Black, please. One sugar.”

  A few minutes later he returned with two take-away coffees and she hoped something sweet in the paper bag he was holding.

  He sat down again and dropped the folded tray in front of him, placing the items down.

  “I got pain aux raisins too, is that okay?”

  Her stomach growled. Loudly.

  Etienne chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  “Thank you. I am really grateful.” She reached for the coffee and took a sip. Perfect.

  “How did you get into this business?”

  Kate sat back in her seat and twisted her head towards him. “You mean, what’s a nice girl like me doing chasing thieves like you?”

  He grinned. “Something like that. You don’t have the hard edge that normally comes along with the job.”

  She gave what she hoped was a withering glare. “Met a few, have you?”

  “Occupational hazard.”

  “Perhaps I’m not as soft as I seem.”

  No way did she want him to see her as weak, but he brushed her declaration away with nothing more than a raised brow.

  “Maybe experience will toughen you up.”

  “Fat chance of that happening.” She reached for the pain aux raisins, pulled off a chunk, and placed it in her mouth.

  “So that’s what this is about.”

  She glanced back up and paused a moment while she finished her mouthful. “What’s what about?”

  “This obsession you have with following me and now you’re determined to uncover as much as possible by yourself.”

  “You
wouldn’t understand. I expect your entire life everyone has moved heaven and earth to give you what you want.”

  He stared out the window for a moment before returning his gaze to her. “We each have to carve out a path for ourselves.”

  “You’ve made an interesting choice.” As soon as the words left her mouth she knew it had been a mistake. She was letting him rile her, and worse than that he was right. She was allowing her obsession to override common sense.

  His brow drew downwards into a scowl. “You know, you let your own biases prejudice you from seeing the truth.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  His answering sardonic expression peaked her ire over the edge. Kate leant forward and forced her voice to remain on an even keel. “I’m not the one with a stolen necklace in his pocket desperate to get his hands on some imaginary treasure.”

  “Exactement chérie. You are so preoccupied with what you believe to be right that the more obvious reason escapes you.”

  “Which is?”

  “I have no reason to lie. The pendant is rightfully mine.” He gestured towards her laptop. “So your paperwork doesn’t match up, but the original owner hasn’t complained, have they?”

  “No. But…”

  “No. And do you know why?”

  She raised her eyes to the roof of the train. “I’m sure you’re going to enlighten me.”

  “Because the secret is too dark for them to make public.”

  She let out an exasperated sigh. “That’s not an explanation, nor is it proof.”

  He shrugged. “Take my word for it. Some time over the next year the lawyers will come to an agreement, and the necklace will no longer be listed as stolen.”

  Kate slumped back in her seat. It was pointless arguing with him. She grabbed another piece of the patisserie and turned her attention towards the screen of her laptop. The text blurred before her eyes as her concentration wavered. It didn’t help that she could feel his gaze upon her and sensed he had more to say.