by Miley Maine
“I’d like to do a boat tour on the Seine River too.”
“Let’s do it,” he said. Then in perfect French, he asked the waitress to take a photo of us together. She did it, shooting him a smile as she snapped our picture, which was no surprise. Owen was charming in everything he did.
He’d told me his French wasn’t great, and maybe it wasn’t fluent, but when he said single phrases, his accent and pronunciation were nearly perfect.
I stared at the photo of us, with me dressed in a stylish black dress, and Owen in his usual suit. We looked like a couple from a city guidebook. I was getting too attached, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. My crush was turning into real affection, but there was no future for us. My time in South America was limited, and just the thought of Owen visiting me in Alabama was impossible to contemplate.
It would all come to an end soon enough, but in the meantime, I would soak up my time with him, enjoying every second, just the way I was soaking up my time in Paris.
I didn’t want to fall hard for Owen. But I was pretty sure it was too late to avoid that – it had already happened.
Chapter Seventeen
Owen
“The Eiffel Tower during the day is great,” I said on our way up to the top. “But the Eiffel Tower at night is spectacular.
Kate’s grip on my hand intensified as our elevator began to creep its way up. “Does it always creak like that?” she asked.
“I’ve only been to the top one other time. But I think that’s normal.”
“I feel like we’re going sideways,” she said, cocking her head.
“Maybe a little. It’s a lot easier to cope with than the Grand Canyon.”
“I haven’t done that either. Remember, until I moved in with the Laurents, I’d never been any higher than the fourth-story floor at the University of Alabama.”
I did tend to forget Kate’s background. “In that case, what do you think?” I asked as we stepped off the elevator.
“You were right. It is spectacular. And I think I like the tourists just as much. There are a lot of visitors in Santiago, but Paris has people from every corner of the world. I could stand here all day and listen to the different languages.”
She peered out carefully, taking in each view. “I know millions of words have been written about Paris. And when I see the architecture, and the views up here, I understand why.”
After we’d seen the views from every angle, we finally headed down, and thanks to Mrs. Laurent, we had reservations in one of Paris’s Michelin-starred restaurants.
Kate and I had separate rooms, but she’d invited me to spend the night in hers. The next morning, I left her sleeping, and headed out to another nine a.m. meeting with Laurent and his contacts. Laurent asked my opinion during the meetings, but my presence was hardly crucial. I had to wonder again why I was here.
Not that I minded being in Paris with Kate. Showing her the sights, and watching her face light up made this the best trip I’d ever taken.
Laurent seemed edgier. The change was subtle.
When we got back, I would find an excuse to teach Kate to shoot a gun, and teach her some self-defense. Hopefully, she’d never need it, but it would make me feel better.
After the meeting, he turned to face me. “You are free to go. Enjoy the day with Kate.”
“Thank you. I’m going to take her to the opera.”
“I have a private box. I will have it arranged.”
“That’s very generous of you.”
He waved me off. “Be here again at nine a.m. tomorrow.”
“Yes, Sir,” I said.
Laurent left with his guards, and I followed them down. While they shuffled around on the street, I slipped into the bathroom in a coffee shop and pulled my suit jacket off. I crumpled it into my briefcase, and pulled out a hoodie and a cap. My dress shoes got shoved in the bag too, and I replaced them with a pair of bright green Converse shoes. I added a pair of dark-framed glasses, pulled the briefcase over my shoulder to look more like a messenger bag, and I looked like any other tourist asshole in the city.
I was ready to follow Laurent. I’d stuck a GPS locater in his car when we got here. It was generic, the kind any novice could buy off the internet. He’d never be able to trace it back to me. It was noon, so they crawled along at a snail’s pace, and I was able to keep up on foot.
Laurent didn’t go into another office building. He went straight into the Louvre. He’d lived here for years; he wasn’t struck with a sudden desire to see the Mona Lisa. That fucker was meeting a contact.
He waltzed in with his pack of guards. They stayed hung back at first, but near the Venus de Milo display, Laurent broke away from his goons and disappeared into a throng of people.
Eventually, I spotted him. He and one other man had pulled away from the group and were walking slowly, talking. I couldn’t get close enough to hear what they were saying. I pulled my thumb-sized camera from my bag and snapped a photo of the man. If he wasn’t disguised, maybe I could find out who he was with facial recognition software.
But who the hell walked around Paris with his entire face exposed if he was working on an international chemical weapons sale? Arrogant people, that was who. I’d encountered plenty of them in my days at the CIA. They never got caught, and if they did, they never suffered any consequences for their actions. Until now, Laurent had been one of those men.
I was determined to make sure his arrogance ended soon.
He and the man continued to walk through the museum. I followed at a leisurely pace until they finally ended their talk. Laurent went back to his guards, and I followed the other man. He walked at a brisk pace, stopping only to buy bread at a market. When he paid, he spoke in English, and I got close enough to hear his Irish accent.
Back at the hotel, I pulled out my phone. I hadn’t been able to bring my secure phone, not on a trip with Laurent with multiple security checks. There was another agent in Paris, and I was going to have to show up at her apartment unannounced, and hope she could help me. She wasn’t undercover, so I wouldn’t be risking her cover by showing up, just my own.
It was late afternoon. What are the chances she’ll be at home? If she wasn’t there, I’d have to go out tonight alone, which would be tricky with Kate waiting on me. I made my way from the center of Paris to Montmartre.
I didn’t actually know Claire’s address, but I found her apartment easily and knocked on her teal blue door. Assuming she had surveillance cameras set up to watch the front door, I pulled my hat and glasses off and waited. After several moments, her door swung open.
She motioned me in with her head. In her hand, she held a Sig Sauer handgun. I felt the lack of my weapon acutely, but it would have been impossible to travel with it – there was no reason for Laurent’s accountant to travel with a gun, and in France, civilians didn’t waltz through the streets carrying them.
“You’re home.” I stepped into her airy apartment.
She bolted the door behind me and rearmed her alarm system. “Doing paperwork,” she said.
“Very bohemian,” I looked around at her eclectic furnishings. Her apartment had been almost bare the last time I’d been here two years ago.
“I have to blend in,” she said. “What do you need?”
Claire was always to the point. “I’m undercover right now.”
She pointed me to sit down at her kitchen table. “As what?” she asked.
“A corporate accountant.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, that’s hilarious. I’m picturing you cooped up in an office all day, pacing around like a tiger.”
“Don’t remind me. So I’m working in Santiago, Chile, and the family I’m working for is French.”
Claire pulled her laptop closer. “Name?”
“Robert Laurent.”
She lifted one eyebrow. “I’ve heard of him. Moves in some dangerous circles.”
“Yeah, he’s about to take it up a notch too. He’s moving
to chemical weapons sales. To terrorists,” I added.
“Fuck,” she said.
“Yeah. Fuck is right. He’s a real piece of work. And today he met with a man at the Louvre. Irish guy. I got a picture.” I pulled my camera out and she uploaded the pictures to her computer.
“You want me to delete this?”
“Please,” I said. If Laurent caught me with pictures of him and the Irish guy, I’d be dead in about five minutes. “I need you to run facial recognition software on him, and find out anything else you can. I think Laurent’s getting ready to make the sale soon, but I don’t know where or when.”
“I’ll do what I can,” she said. “You want me to ask around?”
“If you can do it without setting off any alarm bells. It’s not just me and his thugs here with Laurent. He brought his wife, baby, and their nanny.”
“Got it,” she said. “You want to come back tomorrow, same time?”
“I’m not sure yet. It’s not always easy to get away.”
“Sure,” she drawled. “I saw the way your eyes darted away when you said the nanny was with you.” She poked me in the arm. “You dog.”
“It’s not like that. She’s young, and very sweet.”
“Oh damn.” She laughed again. “You’re actually blushing. I never thought I’d see the day. You’re smitten.”
“I’m not blushing.” I rolled my eyes. “The wife’s innocent, the nanny’s innocent, and the baby sure as hell is. I won’t risk any of them getting caught up in the crossfire. So I have to be careful.”
“I get it. Now go. Get back to your accounting work. Just come by whenever. If I’m out, try again.” She paused. “Wait. Give me your cell number.”
“I don’t have my secure phone.”
“No problem. I’ve got a spare in my safe.” She went into a closet and came back with a phone. “Just destroy it when you’re done.”
“Thank you.” I hugged her tight. I’d met Claire during our first day of training at the Farm. We’d been through a lot together and she was one of the only female friends I had that I hadn’t slept with.
“Leave through the back door.” She unbolted it. “And be careful.”
Before I arrived at our ritzy penthouse hotel, I’d taken the hoodie off and stashed the glasses and hat. The suit jacket was too wrinkled to fix, but that was fine. I found Kate reading on the balcony. A warm feeling spread through my chest whenever I saw her now.
I took a few minutes to just study her. She had on a bright yellow dress with a black belt and black shoes. Her dark hair was held back by a headband that matched the dress. The whole outfit looked classy, and the design looked like something from the fifties. It was no doubt chosen and paid for by Laurent’s wife, but Kate looked stunning in it.
I could have stared at her all day. Part of me wished I could take her away from all this, to a desert island where no one would ever find us.
The surge of affection I felt for her was new to me. I knew I wanted her safe, but now it was dawning on me that I’d do nearly anything to make that happen. I’d never felt this way before. I’d cared about plenty of people, like Claire, and other agents, and friends that I’d had before I joined the CIA.
The work I did made it tough to date, or fall in love, but I’d never minded. I didn’t want a traditional relationship. So this warm feeling I had for Kate was unfamiliar. And if I was being honest with myself, it was uncomfortable.
I was accustomed to working with my only priority being the job. Now, keeping Kate out of the fray was also a priority.
Is this how people with families feel all the time? If so, it sucks.
She looked up from the chaise lounge and smiled at me.
“Hey gorgeous,” I said.
“Hey,” she responded, putting her book down and turning so her feet were on the balcony.
“What are you reading?” I asked, sitting down next to her.
She turned to face me. “The Count of Monte Cristo. It seemed appropriate. Although I can’t read it in French yet, but that's one of my goals.” She tucked her dress down around her knees. “I’ve been listening to French lessons all morning on an audiobook.”
“You’ll get there. You can already read Spanish, so French will be easier.”
“I hope so,” she said.
I stood and held out my hands. “Let me see your dress.” She put her hands in mine and let me pull her up. “I love it,” I said, kissing her cheek, and then her ear.
“Thank you.” She turned her face toward mine. “I’m ready for some alone time when you are.”
I was rock hard in an instant.
“I’m always ready.” I stepped behind her, so she could still see the city. I lifted her hair off the back of her neck, careful not to disturb her headband, and I kissed the nape of her neck.
She shuddered.
“Does that tickle?” I asked, pressing my lips against her neck. “You smell so good.”
“No. Feels good,” she said.
“I can’t wait to take this fancy dress off,” I said, wrapping one arm around her waist.
“Mmm,” she murmured. “I like that idea. Since you’re not working right now, why don’t we-”
The phone in my pocket buzzed.
Shit.
It was the new phone, the one Claire had given me.
“Sorry,” I said, “I need to take this.”
I couldn’t rush inside without looking suspicious, but I did turn my back, hopefully at least obscuring the fact that I wasn’t holding my usual smartphone. “Hello,” I said. “Owen Baxley speaking.”
Claire gave a low laugh. “I guess you’re with someone, so I’ll be quick. I’ve already talked to two assets. The word is that your target’s planning to move the goods about three to four weeks from now. You were right about the man he was with. Facial recognition worked – he is Irish, and he’s supposedly a part of a group that’s worked selling arms to the drug cartels in South America. He’s on his way back to Dublin now.”
“Thank you. That was helpful.”
“You need to work on your acting skills. Your speech is all stilted.”
I covered my laugh with my hand. “I owe you one,” I said, and hung up.
I went back out to the balcony, where Kate was reading again.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said, not offering any details. Claire had always given me a hard time, but I probably did need to work on my acting skills. I was perfectly good at lying on the job, but my relationship with Kate was the longest romantic one I’d ever had.
She snapped the book closed. “Guess what?” she said.
“What?” I asked.
“The Laurents gave me the rest of the week off. Mrs. Laurent is taking Gabriel to visit her mother, so I’m free to go wherever I like.”
“Where would you like to go?” I asked.
“There are so many places,” she said. “England, Ireland, Spain, and Italy are all at the top of my list.”
Ireland. I could use a trip there, to check on Laurent’s possible partners in the chemical weapons sale. And if I took Kate, it wouldn’t arouse anyone’s suspicions. “Let’s leave right now,” I said. “We can take the train to London and be there in three hours. Once you’ve seen the highlights, we can take a train to Wales and ride a ferry to Dublin. You’ll see more than you would on a plane.”
“Really?” Her eyes danced. “Tell me again how you’ve traveled so much?” she asked. “I might want to change my major to accounting.”
I’d never been with anyone long enough for them to notice how much I’d traveled internationally. This time the lie rolled right off my tongue. “Every time I have vacation, I take a trip to someplace different,” I said.
I did not relish the idea of putting Kate in danger by taking her on this trip. But in some ways, her working for Laurent was just as dangerous. I’d heard too many accounts of security breaches with criminals like Laurent. Their enemies would attack, no matter
how secure the mansion, and everyone in the household went down with them.
I needed him to be arrested, and soon. And not just for Kate’s safety, but for the safety of the entire world.
Chapter Eighteen
Kate
Owen held my hand as the ferry to Dublin rocked over the rough waters. The sky was gray, but the sea was a deep blue. As a child, I’d assumed every place felt like Alabama in July – hot, humid, and sticky, but that was far from the truth. Even though it was July, the air on the top deck was chilly.
Thankfully, I wasn’t seasick like several others onboard. I’d seen one lady throw up inside the dining area, and we’d made a quick exit to the top deck.
Our trip to London had been a whirlwind. We’d packed a week’s worth of sightseeing into two days, but the exhaustion was worth every second.
Owen let go of my hand and wrapped his arm around my shoulders as I gripped the handrail.
“Listen,” he said.
I immediately looked up at him. I’d never heard his tone quite so serious.
“We’re going to yet another country. Ireland is safe, just like Great Britain is, but it’s more rural. I’ve had cell phone reception issues here before, and I want you to be careful. If for any reason we get separated, go to the American Embassy, not the local police.”
“Why would I need the Embassy?”
“No one thinks they’ll need it until it’s too late,” he said darkly. “But things happen. Passports get stolen. It sounds like you don’t have anyone to wire you money from home, but the Embassy will help you.” Owen’s free hand held onto the rail with a vice grip.
I’d never seen him so stern. “Where is this coming from?” I asked.
“I just want you to be careful,” he said, staring into the choppy water.
“Okay. I’ll remember to go to the Embassy if something happens. But won’t we be together?” This seemed a bit over the top to me.
