by Em Petrova
He roused and directed his gaze at her.
Her brows pinched. “What happened? You look shell-shocked. Is Roman—”
“He’s fine. Stopped off at home for a shower and an ice-down. He took a few good punches before he got that guy under control. Though I suspect he was just letting him even the odds before kicking his ass.”
A hint of a smile crossed Madeline’s face, but she still wore that pinched look which could only mean one thing—the woman had a new drop of intel.
“What did you discover?” he asked.
“Maybe I should tell you later. You look like you could use some rest.”
“Tell me right now.” His command came out loud enough to echo through the church. In one corner, two members looked up from the laptop they hunched over.
“I found something, about an hour ago.”
“Stop fucking hedging and tell me what you found.”
“You’re always a cranky dick when you need sleep. C’mon, you need to see it for yourself.” She stood, and he sat there a moment, watching her walk away and grinding his teeth. The woman lived to irritate everyone around her. No wonder she was single. The man who matched her didn’t exist.
He stood and followed her behind closed doors. When he entered, she glanced over her shoulder at him and sank to the chair at her desk. Three monitors showed varying information, but his gaze lit on the one in the center containing a photograph of Brun and another man.
“Who is that?” He leaned in to look closer. “The image is grainy. Can’t you bring up the quality?”
“It’s taken from a hundred yards away from a low-quality camera system. Here’s the original.” With a click of a button, she zoomed back out to show the two men standing in the top corner of the image, the main focus on a couple guys with their arms slung around each other’s shoulders and a beer in each hand.
“Where was it taken?” Lars asked.
Madeline pointed to the other monitor and a map. “Here. Near the park. Doesn’t seem like a chance meeting to me, does it to you?”
“Zoom in on their faces again.”
She did. Lars huffed out a breath. “Is that even Brun? He could be any Frenchmen with dark features and hair.”
“It’s Brun, all right. And that man next to him? Is Pierre Moreau’s oldest known enemy.”
He froze. “Why have I not found this myself?”
“Because you were looking only basement deep, when you needed to dig into the graves and unearth Moreau’s ghosts. Back in 2010, Moreau slept with this man’s wife.” She pointed to the man in the image. “There was a huge fight, barely kept under wraps. The two tried to kill each other.”
Lars met her gaze. “How? Gunfight?”
“Yes. Moreau took a chunk out of this guy’s side with a bullet and the only reason he wasn’t charged with attempted murder and possession of a weapon, which goes against the laws in France, was because this man, Bernard, went to a surgeon friend and paid him to patch him up and keep the secret.”
“Why would he do that? He surely wasn’t protecting Moreau.”
She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “My guess is because he was biding his time, to seek revenge. To bring all this into the public eye would have thrown him into the spotlight.”
Lars’s heart gave a lurch. “You’re saying he had something to do with the hit on Moreau.”
She nodded. “Bernard doesn’t only have friends in the medical field. He visited an insurance agent friend and spent the weekend skiing with the man last spring.”
Lars didn’t want to let the excitement churning inside him leap to the surface. He could still be wrong—Madeline could be wrong. Unlikely, but still possible.
“That lines up with when the insurance policy was signed. And if Bernard has friends like those two, is it possible he is also close to a certain sponsor we know?” He stared at the grainy image of Brun. Yeah, that was definitely him. Same casual yet cocky stance.
“Bernard’s also a known gambler, who owes Robert Bissett a small fortune.”
Lars narrowed his eyes, searching his brain. “The press agent representing a driver in Le Mans?”
She nodded.
Silence followed while he processed this. A lot of players were on the game board, but how many were actually responsible for this crime?
He had to ask. “Does this Bernard have any ties to Lillian Delphine?” He hoped his tone didn’t reveal anything to Madeline.
“Not that I’ve discovered. They’ve never met, not at any parties or events.”
“If we find him and haul Brun in again for another round of questioning, then we’ll have what we need.” He pointed to the screen, hiding how fast his heart was pumping with relief.
“I’ve already chartered the jet. You have a team of six at your disposal when you say the word.”
“Who’s my team?”
“Roman, Archer, Sanders, Frisco and Manuel.”
“I’m glad you didn’t say Oz.”
She smiled. “He’s too caught up in his wedding plans at the moment.”
“Thank you for the briefing, Madeline. I fail to thank you sometimes for all you do to help us do our jobs.”
She stared at him for such a long second that he felt an underlying tremor, like an earthquake before it happened.
He closed his fingers into a fist. “What else is there?”
“It’s about your ward, Lars.”
He felt his jaw snap from clenching it so hard. “What about her?”
“She left the new safehouse.”
“What?” His roar echoed through the room and probably reached into the farthest corners of the church and the bell tower too. “Where the hell is she now?”
“Seems she is good at talking to people and persuading them to see her point of view.”
He gave Madeline a flat look. “She sweet-talked the hosts, just like the last ones.”
She nodded. “I have to give her credit—she’s got the gift of gab.”
“They’re probably all just trying to shut her up. She never stops.” Even as he said this, he experienced a jab of conscience for speaking about her that way, especially since he had come to miss it over the past few weeks.
“Tell me where she is.” He thought of the safehouses in the surrounding area. Suddenly, they were all connected like a fucking underground railroad. Now, the wards were taking it upon themselves to move between them. What was next? Guarding themselves too?
He issued a low rumble of irritation. Madeline’s fingers flew over the keys, and in a second, she pinpointed the location on the map. A place out of the way, where they hadn’t placed a ward in a long while. So long, in fact, that he’d nearly forgotten about them being in the network.
“Madeline, I have a favor to ask.”
“Oh shit,” she said.
He threw her a crooked grin. “Go get her and bring her back here. If she won’t stay put, we have to watch her ourselves, and I’ll be in the air within the hour.”
Madeline groaned. “Fine. But you owe me, Lars.”
He walked to the door and tossed her a look. “I’ll honor the commitment. You just honor yours and watch over Lil.”
* * * * *
As Lillian stepped out of the bathroom, steam rolled behind her into the bedroom. She started to reach for her clothing and stopped dead.
She turned her attention to the formidable blonde woman in her room. Despite her being completely nude, Lillian threw her shoulders back. “Excuse me, who are you?”
The woman had the decency to turn away, but not before Lillian caught her smile. “You’re as tough as I expected you to be. Go on and get dressed and I’ll explain who I am and why I’m here.”
With as much decorum as she could scrounge up, Lillian slipped into her clothes while throwing looks at the woman’s back.
“I’m finished,” she said.
The blonde turned. “I’m sorry for the bad timing.”
Lillian shrugged.
“My name is
Madeline. I work with Lars.”
At the mention of his name, she felt her stomach hit her toes and her heart split open all over again. After all the work over the past weeks to cast the man from her system, it felt as if the pain never left. Clearly, it had only been hiding buried beneath the surface, waiting for the moment to spring out and hurt her.
Madeline’s gaze traveled over her face, giving Lillian the impression she was being scanned…read from within. She dropped her stare to her feet.
“Well, Madeline, you must know I’m Lillian Delphine, and why I’m here.”
She nodded. “I’m impressed by how slippery you’ve been, hopping between safehouses without a guard moving you.”
“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or not.”
“It is.” Madeline offered a small smile. “I don’t play games. I’m a straight talker.”
“I appreciate that.”
“I’m here because Lars doesn’t want you running again. He asked me to watch over you.”
Lars again. Enough of the man. She didn’t want to hear his name let alone that he cared enough to send someone to guard her.
Drawing a deep breath, she said, “So you’re going to monitor my every move.”
She tipped her head. “Not exactly.”
“But I am imprisoned.”
Madeline took a seat in an armchair and crossed her legs, even shapely in cargo pants. “Please sit and talk with me.”
Reluctantly, she moved to the chair adjacent to her. “What is going on with my situation? When will I be freed?”
“You’re not a prisoner, Lillian. We are keeping you safe. As for your case, we’ve found a new lead that we believe will take us in the right direction this time. Your case wasn’t as simple as we first believed.”
Lillian said nothing. Right now she wished she had a nice brandy to make this discussion go down easier.
“I’ll be able to go home soon?” she asked.
“That’s our aim.”
“And Pierre?”
“Moreau is still being guarded.”
“What are my chances of returning to work with him? Will everything change?”
“As long as the threat’s neutralized, I don’t see any reason why you can’t pick up where you left off.”
She released the breath she’d been holding.
“You look relieved.”
“Of course I’m relieved. I love my work…except when people are trying to kill me.”
Madeline’s lips twitched at one corner.
“I’ve been thinking up new ways to downplay what really happened during that crash.”
She arched a brow. “How would you go about that?”
Lillian got up and walked over to her bag. A sheaf of papers nestled in the depths, which contained all her notes. When she returned, she handed them to Madeline. Unexpectedly, having someone to talk to about this gave her some semblance of normalcy. The fact she’d only known the woman thirty seconds proved how lonely she really was.
Madeline skimmed the first few sheets. “You plan to approach film producers with a movie idea that would mimic what happened at the race. That’s a really clever cover for what really happened, plus gets your client a movie deal.”
She nodded. “I have no idea if Pierre can act, but even if he isn’t cast in the role, the movie would be about his life and he will still benefit.”
Lowering the papers, Madeline eyed her.
Lillian drew up straight in her chair. “You don’t believe I can pull it off?”
With amusement playing around her gray eyes, Madeline handed her the papers. “I believe you can do anything you set your mind to.”
“You’re making fun of me.”
“No. But I see you wrote Lars’s name five times on that second page.”
Her eyes flew open wider, and she flipped to the sheet. After only a glance, she released a groan. God, she was right. Lillian had written the man’s name.
The pages fluttered to the floor, her grasp slack. She stood and walked to the window. With each hop of homes she made, her accommodations seemed to grow smaller. This tiny window in her room overlooked the wall of another house. All she could see of nature now were a few weeds growing between cracks next to a trash can.
Pressing her fist to her lips, she fought with her rising emotions. No amount of shoving would fit them back into the tiny box she’d managed to stuff them last time around. Now with one crank of the handle from Madeline, the box sprang open, and everything sprang out like a child’s toy.
She whipped around to face Madeline. “Fine—I’m in love with Lars. At least I think I am.”
For a silent moment, the woman simply stared back at her.
Lillian continued, “I think it’s like those pregnant women who believe they’re in love with their obstetricians. They take care of them during the most confusing or scary time of their lives and they mistake their feelings for love. I’m probably doing the same. But we shared some moments that I can’t help but believe were real.”
Still, Madeline didn’t speak.
“You think I’m stupid.” She barked a humorless laugh. “Well, I do too. Believe me, I don’t want to feel a thing for that infuriating man. Then he accused me of plotting Pierre’s death to get money for property. I’ve never wanted to shoot anybody before, but at that moment, I did!”
At last, the woman chuckled. Lillian stared at her. “I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to do Lars harm. You’re right—the man is infuriating.”
“He’s like talking to a brick wall. No, something much more indestructible. Steel.”
“I agree. He listens to no one, not even our boss.”
“So you know how it is. Why would I even think I loved somebody like that?” She had slipped into French and threw Madeline a look. “Sorry.”
“I can keep up.” From the amused glint in her eyes, Lillian knew how she must look to the woman.
“My heart is in a sorry state, and I don’t like it one bit. It’s why I keep moving safehouses.”
“Trying to outrun Lars?”
“Something like that.”
“But it hasn’t worked,” Madeline said softly.
She shook her head. “No. I never felt this way before…and I don’t think it’s only the situation I’m in. If I met him at the track or in business, I’d still dislike him but crawl into bed with him first chance I got!”
Realizing what she said, heat climbed her cheeks, and she threw Madeline another apologetic glance. “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you telling me these things?”
“I suppose because I have no one else to talk to.”
“I don’t know why I’m put into these situations lately. First Rose and now you.”
Confused, she shook her head. “I’m sorry?”
“Forget it. I know this ordeal feels endless, confusing and frightening. But it’s important for you to keep a level head, Lillian. You don’t strike me as a flippant woman who falls in and out of love easily or makes rash decisions.”
“I’m not.”
Madeline pressed her lips together for a long moment. So long that Lillian began to wonder what she was holding back.
“What is it you want to say to me?” she asked.
Gliding to her feet, the woman appeared both fragile yet powerful at the same time. As she approached, Lillian couldn’t make out whether she planned to kick her ass or hug her.
“You know he can’t have you, right? Lars took an oath.”
She sucked in a sharp breath. He’d said as much right before claiming her. He’d held back and fought, but in the end, they’d succumbed to their passions. Until now, she thought it might be possible to have a relationship with Lars. Now Madeline shattered all her hopes, and she felt the shards exploding from her and hitting the floor at her feet.
Without meeting the woman’s eyes, she walked to the bathroom and closed the door. Lifting a shaking hand, she brushed away a tear that hadn’t fallen but loomed too close.
She bit off a cry and leaned heavily against the door, trying to regain her control.
Of course, she knew the worst would come from her infatuation. More than ever, she needed to get out of here. Home felt like a faraway dream by now, something she might never have again.
You know he can’t have you, right? Lars took an oath.
Anger replaced her sadness, and she welcomed the new emotion. She reached out and gripped that light of fury with both hands, bringing it close and holding on tight. Madeline said they were close to ending her ordeal. Soon she would leave this place, and this entire chapter of her life would end. She’d never see Lars, and she could let the man go.
For her sanity, she must.
* * * * *
Lars approached the door of the safehouse. His joints were stiff from such a long flight over the Atlantic, and he flexed his knee to loosen it, though it did little to ease the ache. Later he’d pop a couple painkillers, grab a few winks of sleep and feel like a new man.
Right now, he couldn’t guess what he faced. He raised a hand to knock on the door, but it opened, and he looked down at Madeline.
She eased out and closed the door behind her.
“Well?” he prompted.
“She’s fine. A tough little thing. I kind of think of her as a flower. The petals easily knocked off but the roots remain strong and dug into the earth.”
Christ. She just described Lillian perfectly and said all the things I’ve been trying to figure out.
“It’s finished, so you can go. Thank you for guarding her.”
“My pleasure.”
He grunted. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Do you? I grew to be friends with Rose in the same way.”
“Fuck, you’re kidding me. You don’t think that this is anything like Oz and Rose.”
She arched a perfect blonde brow in that bitchy way that irritated the fuck out of him. After what he’d just done—wiping out Bernard, Brun and the leader of the mercenary group after Lillian—he didn’t have time to play games.
She folded her arms and stared at him, not even a bit cowed by the scowl he wore. “Isn’t it the same as Oz and Rose?”
“No.”
“She’s in love with you, Lars. Are you still going to deny something happened between you?”
His jaw dropped, and he sucked in a trickle of air. In love with him? No fucking way. Lillian couldn’t be in love with him—she was far too sensible. The woman carried condoms in her luggage in the event she got a chance to have a no-strings encounter. She was as levelheaded a woman as he’d ever encountered.
