Chasing Lies

by Sara Claridge

  KATE WAS REELING. From the moment they'd stepped into the warehouse, everything had rapidly gone downhill. Between the deceit, being tied up, and now this revelation that Mercier was most likely responsible for her mother’s and Carl’s deaths, it was all she could do not to throw up.

  She needed to pull herself together if she was going to find a way out of this nightmare. She glanced across at Etienne. His facial expression revealed nothing but contempt and who could blame him? She’d spent their entire time berating him for leading a double life when all the while she’d hidden her own demons.

  There was a certain sense of irony that her mother had done everything to keep her out of harm’s way, and now she was sucked into the criminal world far deeper than she’d ever been in her father’s operations.

  “So we know her interest. What’s yours, Didier?” Etienne’s tone cut her like a knife.

  Didier shrugged. “I needed a little retirement fund. It’s all right for you rich guys; some of us have to work for a living.”

  “Yeah. It’s a real tough life you carved out for yourself. You’re nothing but a shortsighted fool.”

  “Apparently not as big a one as you. I didn’t get suckered in by a pair of pretty legs.”

  Etienne’s jaw clenched, but then his eyebrows raised in sudden enlightenment. “It was you who arranged our taxi ride in Avignon, wasn’t it?”

  The smile left Didier’s face, and a wary expression entered his eyes.

  “No honour among thieves, is there, Didier?” Etienne turned to Mercier. “If you’re wondering who tipped off the Baltics into robbing me, just think about who I’d met with only a short while before.”

  Mercier glanced at Didier.

  “He was double-crossing you for the highest bidder long before he arrived here. Apparently I’m not the only one you shouldn’t be trusting.”

  “He’s bluffing.” Didier postured. “I can’t be held responsible for your lack of discretion, Castel. There are plenty of people who knew you had the necklace.”

  Mercier’s mouth drew into a frown. “Come, Didier. Don’t worry about it.”

  He placed an arm around the other man’s shoulder, and an icy chill slid down Kate’s back. It was a gesture that she’d seen many times before almost a lifetime ago.

  “Come with me while we check up on the necklace.” He guided Didier with him as he left the room. “You can tell me more about what you know about these Baltics.”

  Relief washed over Kate as Mercier walked out the door. They were safe, at least for a while. But the respite was short lived as Georges grasped her arm and pushed her none too gently into a chair, her back rammed up against Etienne’s.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  THE ROOM WAS hot, stuffy, and uncomfortable. Sitting back to back, their fingers intertwined, was almost more than Kate could handle.

  The moment Georges had retied their hands together, an awareness had flown through her. She couldn’t make up her mind whether to embrace it knowing that death was probably not too far away or to loathe it along with the man responsible for the feeling.

  She shook her head in a desperate attempt to clear her thoughts. Now wasn’t the time to get maudlin. There was every chance of survival. All she needed to do was focus. Forget about Etienne and his agenda. The painting was all that mattered.

  She glanced over and regarded the offending item leant against the wall, mocking them. She’d spent so long chasing its whereabouts that she’d never considered its beauty, or rather lack of it.

  “It’s actually quite ugly.”

  “What is?” His head turned towards hers so they were almost cheek to cheek.

  “The painting. It’s hard to imagine anyone paying millions for it.”

  “Let me guess. You’re more a Monet kind of girl, all light and colour.”

  His sarcastic tone made her smile. There was something exhilarating about trading barbs with Etienne. “Actually Degas. I loved ballet as a little girl, but my mother could never afford the lessons. I used to make do with staring in through the window at the local church hall and watching the girls go through their steps. I practised outside. My barre was the bins lined up in the alley.”

  “Is this before or after your foray into a life of criminality?”

  “That’s rich, coming from you.”

  “At least I always told you the truth.”

  She raised her eyes skywards. “Only when it suited you.”

  “Nothing is as it seems, I said. How ironic I didn’t know I was really talking about you.”

  Kate tugged at cable ties holding her hands together. “Shouldn’t we be trying to escape instead of dissecting the past?”

  “When were you going to tell me that not only do you have a false identity, but that you’re the long lost daughter of a drug lord?”

  “Would you believe never?”

  His bark of mirth echoed around the room. “Yes, actually I would.”

  A weight lifted from her at his laughter. She’d spent so long trying to hide from her past that knowing it was no longer a secret was almost an anticlimax.

  “Your passport is a good forgery. Where did you get it?”

  “I knew it was you!” Outrage filled her voice, but she didn’t really care. Somewhere in the last hour or so, she’d realised that they both led lives that were a charade in their own way.

  “Moi?”

  “Don’t feign innocence with me. It won’t work anymore.” Nope, that last stunt of his with the letter was all she needed to remember not to be taken in by Etienne Castel, no matter how fast he made her heart race.

  “Chérie, I’m wounded.” He paused for a moment. “So where did you get it?”

  “It’s real. Not everyone lives in your murky world. When my mother died, someone took pity on me, gave me a new ID and arranged for a foster home far away from any of my father’s old stomping grounds. I chose the name Kate after my mother, Catherine.”

  “Who the hell are you? The sweet eight year old ballet dancer or the tough as nails woman who survived hell and still looks upon the world as some kind of innocent?”

  She shrugged. “I’m both. I can’t help but look for the good in everyone. Even you. In a weird way this is liberating. I spent most of my life worrying about someone discovering who I really was. Now I no longer care. The secret is out. My father is dead.”

  “And Mercier?”

  “To a ten year old girl, he held some kind of power over me. A force that I imagined to be greater than it really was. Now I know he’s just another sleazebag, murdering criminal. Someone to be cautious of, but not someone to spend my life running from. No one is worth that.”

  Etienne didn’t respond and the silence made her nervous. “What comes next?”

  “Death?”

  “He might let us go.” No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t say the words with any hint of optimism.

  ‘I’m pretty sure he’s not going to. Someone warned me a few days ago that he’s on record as saying he wants the necklace in his hand and me dead.”

  “Perhaps he’ll be satisfied with one out of two.”

  “Well, I don’t know about you, but I don’t plan on finding out.”

  Not for the first , she felt Etienne twisting his hands behind her. She’d tried herself but couldn’t wiggle her hands free of the plastic ties.

  “I can’t believe you brought the poems.”

  She could hear the undertone in the statement. He thought she was being naive again, but how was she to have known Didier was on the wrong side? Besides, who was he to question what she did when it was his fault for leaving her in the first place?

  “And I can’t believe you ditched me again so fast! I was so annoyed that you were going to meet Mercier with Didier that I didn’t think to question his motive.” Kate sighed. “I thought I could trust him!”

  “What have I told you? Trust no one.”

  “Not even you?”

  Before she could berate him any more, Etienne st
ood up, stretching his untethered arms, and bent down to kiss her hard.

  “No, chérie.” He smiled against her lips. “Especially not me.”

  “How the hell did you do that?”

  He shrugged. It was the most annoying, exhilarating movement the damned man had ever made.

  “You’re a fool, you know?”

  Etienne cupped her face and kissed her again, more softly this time. The warmth of his strong hand on her jaw, his thumb caressing her cheek, made her wish for the impossible. Perhaps he was right. It would never work between them. There was a gulf between their lives that could never be bridged.

  As he pulled away, she mourned the loss of his lips.

  “How can I be a fool, when even I know I have the greater prize?” His husky tone sent a thrill shooting down her spine.

  In the same split second, she saw it out of the corner of her eye. “The priest’s face.”

  “Don’t.”

  At his firm tone, she switched her focus back to him. His gaze was alight with understanding. Had he already figured it out?

  “But the lines that depict his features…” As he worked to release her hands, she stuttered, desperate to make Etienne understand. “Look at the shape of his face. The three would overlay. The decorative O from the poem and the O at the beginning of the inscription on your necklace are the same shape.”

  “So you finally believe it’s mine?

  She frowned. She was so distracted by her chain of thoughts that his questioned confused her momentarily. “No! It was just a turn of phrase.”

  His lips rose in a wry smile at her defiant tone.

  She punched him lightly on the shoulder. “Stop trying to change the subject.”

  “Madmen and fools. Remember, princesse? There’s a very good reason why everything has been kept separate for centuries.”

  She walked over to the painting to take a closer look. She was certain the three would overlay and form what? Some sort of map or key to where the Montségur treasure was hidden? Her fingers traced the lines of the priest’s face. Somehow it almost seemed like her nemesis since she’d fought so hard for this moment.

  Etienne’s impatient tone interrupted her thoughts.

  “Come on, we’re running out of time. It’s not going to be easy escaping with a painting of this size.”

  He was right. It would be hard enough if it was just them.

  “Elise or Kate?”

  She looked up at him and frowned.

  “Should I call you Elise or Kate?”

  “Kate. Absolutely. Elise was a scared little girl that I thought I’d left behind. I didn’t realise until today how much she still ruled over who I want to be. Elise was always in the shadows waiting for someone to point her out. I’m not afraid of her anymore. She’s just a part of my past.”

  She paused for a moment, considering the last few days. “On the other hand, at least Elise doesn’t have a criminal record.”

  “Neither do you. You weren’t charged.”

  Speechless at his audacity, she shook her head in mock admonishment.

  He grasped her hand and brought it to his lips. “En y va, Kate.”

  Etienne opened the door a crack and listened intently.

  “I can hear Georges. He’s going outside for a cigarette.”

  “What? He doesn’t mind a little roughing up, but he goes outside for a smoke.”

  “Well, it works in our favour, so let’s get moving. I can’t hear anyone else on this level, with any luck that just leaves the guard on the door.”

  She followed Etienne out into the corridor. The loud clanging noise as her shoes hit the metal walkway made her wince. Etienne turned his head sharply and glanced at her feet before meeting her gaze with a stern expression. Clearly he wasn’t used to snooping around with women. He was lucky she was wearing her low heeled boots.

  He mouthed at her to take them off, but she was already backing into the room, her hand reaching for the zipper. She slid out of her boots quietly and rejoined him in the corridor. A twinge of regret hit her chest at the thought of leaving the expensive boots behind, but a glimpse of the doorman below, his gun tucked into the back of his waistband, banished the feeling.

  Following Etienne, she wished she had his stealthy grace. Her heart was pounding so loudly that she was sure its beating could be heard on the other side of the warehouse and would alert someone to their descent.

  As they reached the bottom, Etienne moved behind a large section of wooden crates piled up and waited for her to join him. He propped the painting against a box and indicated that she should remain with the picture. She shook her head and mouthed an emphatic no. There was no way he was leaving her at the back of the warehouse. She glanced at the painting. Knowing him, this would turn out to be a fake as well.

  He tapped her shoulder to regain her attention. An impatient expression flicked across his face. He held up his hand, palm spread wide in a staying gesture, and pointed to his chest with his other hand. He would take out the guard and then she could come forward.

  “Okay,” she mouthed back, knowing that arguing now would turn into some silent farce.

  Etienne stepped out from behind the crates. Within seconds she heard a shout and an angry voice.

  Kate placed her front tight up against a crate before risking a peek. As far as she could see, Etienne appeared to be feigning innocence and holding something up. At least the guard hadn’t shot him on sight, so that was a plus.

  Kate groaned inwardly as she recognised what it was. His lucky cigarette. The damned man thought of everything. He didn’t need nine lives. He had his all planned out.

  While the guard was distracted reaching for his lighter, Etienne moved swiftly, taking him out so fast that, Kate would have missed it if she’d blinked. As the guard slumped to the floor, Etienne dragged him out of the way and behind another section of crates, kicking the guard’s gun towards Kate as he went.

  Just as she felt some of the tension leave her shoulders, the door to the street opened and Mercier strode in, pausing to draw his gun when he saw there was no guard.

  Keeping her breathing shallow and quiet, Kate edged back behind the stack of crates. Even if by some miracle they managed to get past Mercier without being caught, they’d never be able to do it with the painting.

  Etienne’s shoes scraped across the concrete as he stepped out into the main walkway, and Kate’s heart hammered in her chest. She hoped his plan was better than her hide-and-pray strategy.

  “Stay where you are,” Mercier’s voice rang out. “Where’s the girl?”

  “Upstairs. You don’t think I’d bother with her now, do you?”

  Kate leant back and closed her eyes momentarily. They were doomed. No way would Etienne be able to overpower Mercier without being shot. She opened her eyes a fraction. The guard’s gun was right by her feet. Don’t think, Kate, just act.

  Mercier laughed mirthlessly. “Well, you’re both going to the same place, so I don’t see the difference.”

  She picked it up and crept towards the side wall. It had been years since she’d handle a gun, but the basics would be the same, wouldn’t they?

  “And the painting?” asked Etienne.

  Annoyance countered the fear in Kate. Why on earth was she trying to save a guy whose first thought at having a gun to his head was to find out where the painting would be if they all escaped this mess alive?

  “What about it?”

  “Where’s that going?”

  Mercier paused, and for a moment Kate worried he’d gotten bored with the conversation and was just going to shoot Etienne before she managed to move into place.

  “There’s a guy down in Argentina who promised to pay a small fortune if I can deliver it and the necklace. The chanson hopefully will add a nice cash bonus.”

  “You don’t fancy the bullion for yourself?”

  Okay. Maybe she should give him the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps he was just stalling for time. She edged along the side wal
l, careful not to make a sound and draw Mercier’s attention until she was ready. She turned towards the centre of the building once she was certain that she’d gone around him.

  Mercier laughed. “Come on, Castel. You don’t really believe in that nonsense, do you?”

  Kate took advantage of Mercier relaxing his stance and stepped out behind him.

  “Put the gun down.” Adrenaline made her tone stronger than she felt.

  He spun around, his arm still raised, his finger instinctively flexing against the trigger, a look of surprise etched onto his face.

  The roar of Etienne’s voice registered long before his words. She pulled the trigger, her arm recoiling with force and almost throwing her backwards. But before she could straighten herself, a red stain spread across Mercier’s chest, his knees buckled, and he fell to the floor.

  Etienne rushed to her side, removing the gun from her shaking fingers.

  She gave him a wan smile of thanks just as noise erupted outside.

  Etienne glanced at the door. “Come on. There has to be another way out.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the back of the warehouse. As they approached the body, he released her hand and proceeded to quickly go through Mercier’s pockets, removing various items.

  The door to the street flew open, and Etienne dragged Kate into another maze of wooden crates.

  “Police.” The sound was music to Kate’s ears in any language. She slumped against Etienne, pausing to catch her breath before moving to step out and identify herself.

  “Don’t.” Etienne’s quiet command stilled her.

  She gave him a questioning look.

  “Give me a minute to get away first.” As if he could sense her hesitation, he continued, “You’re safe now. I wouldn’t leave you if you weren’t.”

  The sound of footsteps grew closer. Male voices shouted out what sounded like orders as they made their way through each section of the warehouse.

  She flinched as they found Mercier. The word mort needed no translation. Nausea washed over her. All her life she’d tried hard to honour her mother’s death by staying on the right side of the law. What did it say about her, now that she’d killed the man she’d feared for so long?