Dancing with Paris (A Paris Time Travel Romance)

by Juliette Sobanet

  “If you are suggesting it was my department, you are wrong, Mademoiselle. I only said that to you yesterday as a scare tactic. To get the two of you to talk. But seeing as how there is only one of you now, you will have to talk. You have no other choice.”

  “Who gave you that photo?” I asked.

  He shifted in his seat, his gaze not breaking mine. “That is confidential information.”

  “Was it François’s wife? Because I am fairly certain she was at the club the night of Gisèle’s murder, watching me and François in the alley.”

  “What makes you think this?”

  I nodded toward the coffee table where I’d laid the diamond earring. “I found that earring lying on François’s bed when I first arrived, and I’m almost positive it’s the same earring the female silhouette in the photo is wearing. I think she was there, and if she was, it’s possible that she had something to do with Gisèle’s murder.”

  Detective Duval sat back in his seat, the corners of his mouth twitching. “One murder at a time, Mademoiselle Kerrigan. Do you have any other suggestions for me, or are you ready to let me do my job?”

  I sat up straighter in my chair, determined to stay strong. I would not let this man wear me down. “Yes, I do, actually. Besides François’s wife’s possible involvement in all of this, I need you to look into a man named Thomas Riley from New York City. He’s my ex-boyfriend, he’s extremely dangerous, and I think he’s here in Paris following me. There’s a strong chance he may be involved in these murders as well.”

  Detective Duval jotted something down on his notepad then raised an eyebrow at me. “How interesting that every time I meet with you, you point the finger at someone else. And in this case, at two other people. I have noted the name of this so-called ex-boyfriend of yours, but first I need you to answer my questions. How did you enter Monsieur Lefevre’s apartment?”

  “Someone buzzed me in from upstairs, and when I got up here, the door was already open. I thought François had left it open for me, but when I came in, I didn’t see him anywhere. I heard the water turn on in the bathroom, so I assumed he was taking a quick shower. I walked back to his bedroom, and that’s when I found the earring on the bed…and then I saw the blood.” I closed my eyes, another violent shiver shaking me to the core. This was a nightmare. An absolute nightmare.

  “And back to my original question: Why did you come here alone in the first place?”

  “After I saw the photo and the article in the paper, I called François. He told me that his lawyer was on his way over, and if I wanted a chance at proving my innocence, I needed to be here.”

  Detective Duval tapped his pen against the notepad, the sound like sharp gunshots to my ears. “I can understand why Monsieur Lefevre would need a lawyer—after having all of his corrupt activities exposed in the papers. But if you and Monsieur Lefevre truly had nothing to do with the murder of Gisèle Richard, why then would you be seeking legal counsel?”

  “Because my name is splattered all over the papers too, and you’ve been after me as if I’m the prime suspect in Gisèle’s murder! Of course I would take him up on his offer for legal counsel.”

  “Calmez-vous, Mademoiselle. You can understand why I need you to answer my questions. Two murders both connected to you, all in the matter of a week. Ce n’est pas normal.”

  “I know it’s not normal. But it doesn’t mean I’m responsible for either of them.”

  A twitch of doubt passed through Detective Duval’s eyes. “Back to Monsieur Lefevre’s lawyer. Did he ever arrive?”

  “No, he never arrived. But someone else was here. Like I told you, someone buzzed me upstairs and turned on the shower to make me think it was François…but it wasn’t. He was already dead.”

  The detective scribbled on his notepad. “Did you see the murder weapon lying anywhere near the body, or anywhere in the apartment?”

  “No, they must’ve taken it with them.”

  “If the murderer was in the apartment with you, I find it difficult to believe that you didn’t see this person exiting.”

  “After I found François and realized it was too late to save him, I crept back out to the living room and saw that someone had unlocked the front door and left it open. Whoever killed François walked right out the front door while I was back in the bedroom. I ran down the stairs to find them, but it was too late. They were already gone.”

  “How convenient,” he said with a snarl.

  I ignored the detective’s snide remark and forged ahead. “You need to find whoever did this, Detective. And you need to find that man I was telling you about, Thomas Riley. Because I’m afraid…”

  “Yes, Mademoiselle?”

  “I’m afraid I’m going to be next.”

  Two hours later, after I’d answered lists of questions from two other police officers, I was desperately hoping they would let me leave when Detective Duval entered the room once more. He nodded to the police officer who’d been questioning me, then walked up to me without taking a seat.

  “You mentioned that you did not find a knife in the vicinity of Monsieur Lefevre’s body. Is this correct?”

  I nodded as I wrapped the wool blanket tighter around my body, wondering where he was going with this, and hoping I’d done a good enough job at convincing him I was not involved in this murder in any way.

  “And did you happen to bring anything with you? Un sac à main, peut-être?” A purse, maybe?

  My eyes flickered over to the hall closet, where I’d thrown my purse just before the police had arrived. Showing the police the loaded gun I’d stashed inside for self-defense obviously would not help my case…especially if that gun would link me to Gisèle’s murder.

  Though the fact that there was now a different murderer on the loose gave me the slightest inkling of hope that maybe Ruby hadn’t killed Gisèle after all. Whoever was responsible for François’s murder could’ve had something to do with Gisèle’s as well…and with the discovery of the diamond earring, I was beginning to think that someone may be François’s wife.

  Either way, I needed to get out of here fast…and somehow snatch my purse on the way out.

  This wasn’t going to be easy.

  I shook my head. “No, Detective. I must’ve forgotten my purse in the rush to get over here.”

  His eyes searched the immediate area around me in the elegant living room, but when he came up empty, he shook his head. “Even in a hurry, it is unusual for women to travel without a purse of some sort, no?”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not like other women.”

  “So I see.”

  Just then, the medical examiners wheeled a stretcher through the living room, a long black body bag on top.

  “I believe we have asked you everything we need to know, so you are free to go now, Mademoiselle Kerrigan. But while both of these murder investigations are under way, you must not leave the city. I will pass by the club or by your apartment for further questioning in the coming days. Vous comprenez?”

  I barely heard him as I watched them wheel François’s stiff body out into the hallway. A wave of dizziness hit me, the enormity of this horrific situation finally settling in. My gut clenched, my breath constricting in my throat. I doubled over and gagged, emptying the contents of my stomach onto the floor.

  One of the medical examiners rushed to my side. “À l’hôpital, Mademoiselle?” he asked.

  I shook my head as I wiped my mouth, wondering if my days here as Ruby were ever going to get any easier. “Non, merci,” I said. “I know a doctor I can call.”

  SIXTEEN

  He arrived only ten minutes after I’d called him, his soft gray eyes and handsome face a breath of fresh air to the stale apartment, which smelled of death and rubber police boots.

  Antoine flashed me a startled look as he took in the officers circulating inside the apartment.

  “Let’s go,” I told him as I discreetly slipped my purse back onto my shoulder when I was sure Detective Du
val wasn’t in the room. “I’ll explain everything outside.”

  We filed down the six flights of stairs together as I silently prayed that none of the policemen had seen me take my purse from the closet. The arm of Antoine’s wool coat brushed up against my back as he ushered me out onto the street, reminding me that at least I wasn’t alone.

  Outside, the sky was still somber and gray as I combed the busy boulevard for any signs of Thomas. When I didn’t see a man wearing a long black trench coat in the immediate vicinity, and when I realized the police weren’t coming after me to search my purse, I said a silent thank-you to whoever might be listening. I was safe…for now.

  We weaved around the police cars parked in front of the apartment building and crossed the street to the banks of the Seine. As we headed left up the quai, toward the Pont Neuf, our breath formed little white puffs at our lips.

  “Thank you for coming, Antoine. I’m sure you saw the article in the papers this morning, and I was probably the last person you wanted to see today.”

  Antoine’s expression hardened. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth about your involvement with François Lefevre? Did he have something to do with Gisèle’s murder? Are you covering up for him? And what happened up there? Were you hurt?”

  His words hung in the air between us. He knew what hordes of police meant. He’d already been through this once in the past week.

  “François is dead, Antoine. That was his apartment we were just in. He was just murdered this morning.” A memory of François’s blood pooling at my shoes, the gaping slit in his neck, and his lifeless gray face flashed before my eyes. My knees weakened, my stomach clenching once more.

  “Here, Ruby. Asseyez-vous.” Antoine wrapped his arm around my shoulders and led me over to a bench on the Pont Neuf nestled between two lampposts. “Just breathe,” he told me, his warm breath blowing softly against my ear. “Breathe.”

  I looked into Antoine’s eyes and felt all of my defenses melting away. I wanted to tell him the truth about who I was. The whole truth. I wanted to ask him if he would help me find a way home to my real life as Claudia. I didn’t want to be here anymore. In this nightmare of a life with my name now linked to two murder cases, an ex-boyfriend hunting me down, and a mess surely waiting for me back at the club.

  I wanted to go home, and yet, as Antoine’s strong embrace shielded me from the harsh Parisian winter, I realized I also didn’t want to leave his side.

  “Are you ready to tell me what is going on now, Ruby?”

  I breathed in the cool, moist air and proceeded to tell Antoine everything. I told him every detail I’d originally omitted from the night of Gisèle’s death—that I’d slept with François in the office, that he’d paid me outside the club, and that at some point after I’d accepted his money, I’d come back inside, only to find Delphine lying over Gisèle’s body in the dressing room.

  I told Antoine about Detective Duval’s theory that I’d killed Gisèle to steal her starring role, and that I’d planned on using my liaison with François Lefevre to clear my name from the murder investigation. I told him about my conversations with both Titine and François, confirming that I’d never planned to harm Gisèle, and that Gisèle was one of my closest friends at the club. I even mentioned the diamond earring in the photo and its possible connection to François’s wife.

  After I finished the first part of my explanation, Antoine remained silent, taking it all in.

  “I’m sorry, Antoine. I’m sorry for not originally telling you the truth about what I was doing the night I found her. I still don’t remember every single detail, like how my necklace ended up stuck to Gisèle’s costume, or when I saw Véronique running and out of breath backstage. But I promise you, I’m telling you everything I can remember.”

  A pang of guilt swept over me when I recalled the gun hidden in my purse. That was the one thing I knew I couldn’t tell him. Not yet, anyway.

  Antoine’s jaw tightened, his eyes not willing to soften as they had the night before. He looked away, out at the river. “If I have learned anything in my life, it is that the truth will always find a way to present itself, even if we, ourselves, aren’t willing to face it.” He turned back to me, his gaze searching my face and finally landing on my own ocean-blue eyes.

  I fiddled with the hem of my coat, not able to hold Antoine’s intense stare for another second. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to think of me that way. I know this probably won’t make any sense, but I’m not her anymore. I would never do those things now.”

  His deep voice rose in frustration, drowning out the cars that zipped past us on the bridge. “Explain what you mean by this, Ruby. That you are not her anymore. You are not Ruby? Like I asked you last night? Because your eyes, they are still blue. And I am certain they were green just two days ago. And the way you talk, it is still different. Like you are a completely different person altogether. How is this possible?” Antoine ran his hand through his short, dark hair then shook his head. “Please, tell me what is going on.”

  “I’ve changed. I can’t fully explain it to you, but after I woke up from that fall, I was different. And the things I would’ve done a week ago, I wouldn’t do now.”

  Antoine shook his head. “I still don’t understand, Ruby.”

  I looked to the ground. “I don’t either.”

  Another rush of loud cars buzzed along the Pont Neuf, Parisians on their way home for lunch, completely unaware of the murder of one of their top officials that had just taken place only a few blocks away.

  Antoine broke our silence. “If what you are saying is true, that you still do not remember the entire night of my sister’s death, but that you believe you were with François Lefevre when it happened, then why did you not simply ask him to confirm your alibi with the police? Now that the photo is in the papers, everyone knows what he was doing anyway. There would be no reason for him to hide this information from the police…unless, of course, it is not true.”

  “What I’ve told you so far is true, Antoine. Gisèle was my friend. I would never have harmed—”

  “But you are a different person, now, no? You said so yourself. There are things you would have done just last week that you would not do today. Does this include murder?”

  I couldn’t say with absolute certainty that Ruby hadn’t killed Gisèle, so all I could go on was the gut instinct that if Ruby had held even a tiny piece of me—of Claudia—inside of her, she wouldn’t have gone so far as to murder a friend. No matter how badly she wanted that starring role.

  I looked into Antoine’s eyes and detected the pain hiding beneath his anger. “No. I didn’t do it,” I said with more conviction than I’d anticipated. “I didn’t kill Gisèle. And François was going to confirm my alibi with the police today, but then the article was released, and now he’s…he’s dead.”

  The color drained from Antoine’s rosy cheeks. “Did you find him?”

  I nodded as I focused on the dark river that stretched out before us, the gray apartment buildings lining the Seine, the happy couples strolling along hand in hand, not a care in the world. I wished I could switch places with them for a day—anything to forget about the blood, to forget about François’s haunting face.

  “I’m afraid that whoever did this knew that François was about to tell the police I had nothing to do with Gisèle’s death, and they killed him so he wouldn’t have the chance. So that everyone, including the police, would think that I’d killed her. Whoever did this wants me to take the blame for Gisèle’s murder.” I rubbed my forehead with my hands, my temples throbbing from all of this madness. Then I lowered my icy hands into my lap and looked over at Antoine to find his eyes searching me once more, the truth in his regard suddenly too much for me to bear.

  “It’s clear that you’re not going to believe me either,” I said to him. “I’m sorry I called you today, Antoine.”

  Leaving his side, I took off down the bridge, back toward my apartment. I felt like an idio
t for calling him in the first place. Just because he’d made me feel safe in this life, just because I felt something for him in the short time I’d known him, didn’t mean he would ever believe me.

  I was on my own here. And I didn’t have much time left.

  But just as I reached the quai, a warm hand grasped mine. “Wait, Ruby. Please, wait.”

  I refused to look him in the eye, his gaze too powerful for me, too overwhelming.

  Antoine squeezed my hand tighter in his. “If it is possible that whoever was responsible for killing François Lefevre also had a hand in my sister’s murder, we have to find out who it was. And I won’t let what happened to my sister happen to you. We must keep you safe.”

  I lifted my gaze to his, not able to hide the hope I felt coursing through me. “So you believe me?”

  “I do not understand what has happened to you, or why you are so different all of a sudden. But I cannot look into those eyes…your eyes, and believe that you could be responsible for harming my sister. Now we just need to find out who did.”

  Antoine held my hand the entire walk home, his touch making me feel warmer than I’d felt in my entire day and a half as Ruby. Knowing that he believed me, that he wanted to keep me safe, gave me such a profound sense of relief, I almost forgot about what had happened when I’d walked these same streets alone, earlier today.

  Thomas Riley was here in Paris, looking for me. And whether or not he was connected to these murders, I knew he was dangerous. And even with Antoine by my side, I wasn’t safe.

  “There’s one more thing I have to tell you, Antoine. Remember how I was running from something on the bridge last night?”

  “Yes. And you wouldn’t tell me. What was it, Ruby?”

  “I heard a man’s voice whisper my name, and now I know who it was. His name is Thomas Riley. He’s an ex-boyfriend of mine from New York, and I’m almost certain I saw him today, following me on my way to François’s apartment. I think he’s here, in Paris, looking for me.”

  Concern etched into the lines around Antoine’s eyes as we rounded the corner onto rue de l’Ancienne Comédie, only a block away from the club. “Is he dangerous?”