Chasing Lies

by Sara Claridge

  “You know, your coworker wouldn’t have done all this by themselves.”

  His tone had softened, and she was almost tempted to call a truce so they could concentrate on locating the painting.

  His fingers brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “They’d have pushed a lot of the work back to the head office, but here you are trying to do everything yourself.”

  “You forget, I was the one doing the heavy lifting back at the office.” She waved his hand away. “You still don’t get it, do you?”

  “Try me.”

  “You’ve got enough wealth to buy all the resources you need without anyone questioning you. I want a paper clip and I have to fill out a form in triplicate. Any sign of weakness, and there’s someone behind me just waiting to step into my shoes.”

  “Like you did the other guy.”

  She frowned at his subtle accusation. “That was different. I didn’t put Carl in the hospital. I’m just using the opportunity to get out into the field. That’s where I can make a difference and prove that I’m capable of bigger assignments.”

  “Success can make a lonely road.”

  Kate turned sharply and met his gaze. His brown eyes unsettled her. She had the feeling he saw far more than she really meant to give away. “Do I seem like I need friends?”

  “You needed one in the park.”

  “And I’ve thanked you. But I’m a little more choosy about whom I call a friend.” She lifted her chin defiantly at him. “Besides, you seem to have more than enough. Every time I see your picture in a magazine, you’re with a different woman.”

  “I haven’t slept with half the women they say I have.”

  “What about the other half?”

  His lips tilted upwards in an annoying smile. “Careful, chérie. I’ll start to think you care.”

  Kate threw herself back in her seat and plotted the many ways in which she could disassemble Etienne Castel. Slowly, piece by piece. Then became even more annoyed with herself for the way her mind took a different slant and returned to studying the documents on her laptop.

  “THIS IS IT.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He turned and gave her a dry look. “The sign is a giveaway.” As he moved, a stone plaque came into view.

  “I was expecting something grander.”

  “There are many small museums like this around Paris. Some are little more than catalogues of work, which is why I made the appointment. Otherwise the document might not have been available.”

  She went to push open the door.

  “Wait a moment.” He placed his hand on her forearm and she turned to face him.

  “What?” It came out slightly harsher than she’d intended, certain that he was about to admonish her for some failing or another. Her breath caught in her throat when his hands cupped her cheeks and his thumbs swept underneath her eyes.

  “The cold has made your eyes water and your mascara’s run.” He swiped underneath her eyes again. “There, that’s better.” He continued to hold her cheeks. His steady gaze was seemingly unaware of the blush she could feel heating all the way up her cheeks. “Don’t listen to some idiot who’s spent so long chasing the devil he’s forgotten that somewhere at the end of a dark tunnel a lamp still shines.”

  Was that an apology? Before she could dwell on the possibility, Etienne pushed the door open and stood aside to let her pass.

  Murmuring her thanks, Kate took a moment to let her gaze adjust as she stepped out of the bright sunlight and into a dimly lit room. To the left was a small counter with just a brass bell on the surface. The remainder of the room was filled with glass display cases, and she could see further exhibits in the room beyond.

  Etienne pressed the bell, which rang shrilly in the empty room. Footsteps overhead signalled someone’s arrival and a few moments later a door opened.

  A woman in her late forties, stylishly dressed, stepped into the room. Her heels tapped loudly on the parquet floor as she walked across to where they stood and held out her hand. “Bonjour.”

  Taking her hand, Etienne continued the conversation in French, clearly confirming who they were. The woman held out her hand and smiled at Kate.

  Kate silently cursed her luck. Italian had been her forte at school. That and Latin she’d excelled at, but French always had her stumbling. “Excuez-moi Madame, je ne parle pas français.” The smile fell from the woman’s lips, and she turned her attention back to Etienne, engaging him in a rapid fire conversation.

  Kate caught herself straightening her posture and stopped the involuntary gesture knowing it was a knee-jerk reaction whenever she was found to be lacking in some way. Etienne glanced at her with amusement. His mocking words on the train about her being out of her depth came back to her. The nice guy from outside a minute ago had vanished.

  Cordiality obviously wasn’t the women’s strong point, but as long as they got to see the script, Kate wasn’t going to hold it against her.

  Etienne touched her arm. “Come on, Madame Bernard has it laid out in the other room.”

  The woman was smiling again now and beckoning them from the archway between the rooms. Her change in demeanour was curious.

  “What did you say to her?” Kate asked in a hushed whisper.

  “Just that you were eager to please your boss.”

  “Who did you say my boss was?”

  Etienne shrugged. “It’s not important.”

  She pursed her lips but followed him anyway. It was futile to argue. That much she had learnt about Etienne Castel.

  The poem was already laid out on a table. Madame Bernard handed them cotton gloves. “Protection,” she offered by way of explanation. Kate’s eyes narrowed. She suspected that the woman spoke more English than she was letting on, but clearly Kate wasn’t worthy of her effort.

  Kate placed them to one side and reached for her bag on the floor. Flicking the catch open, she pulled out the photocopied pages she’d been studying on the train and arranged them next to the chanson.

  She took her time putting on the gloves, trying hard to catch a few words of the conversation. As far as she could tell, Madame was presenting the documents to Etienne, and judging by his response there was hope this was the right one.

  Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she turned to face the table. She grasped the first page of the photocopy and held it close to the script. Her French was limited, and the Occitan made it almost impossible to translate, but she could match up the sections of the passages she had.

  “And?” Etienne spoke softly.

  A tingle of excitement ran up her neck. She turned to him, careful to bank the glint of excitement she knew would be reflected in her gaze. The last thing she wanted to do was alert Madame Bernard that they were doing anything more than academic research. “I think I’ve found the section. Can it be copied?”

  Her suspicions about the woman were confirmed when she immediately responded non and then went on to discuss in greater detail why not with Etienne.

  “Apparently they don’t have the facilities here. She says can’t you take a photo?”

  Kate kept her voice muted, hoping that would be enough to prevent the woman from hearing too clearly and therefore understanding. “We can’t risk that there won’t come a time when we’ll need to zoom it up, and a photo doesn’t always give the pixel depth to enable manipulation. I have a hand scanner.”

  She rummaged in her bag and pulled out the small black canvas pouch. “It won’t damage the scripts and will give us what we need.” Kate glanced back at the woman momentarily. “Besides, if we have to come back, she may not be as accommodating next time.”

  She pulled out the scanner and connected it to her laptop. Etienne explained what they wanted to do, but Madame’s uncertain expression didn’t waver.

  “Mon chef sera merci beaucoup,” Kate tried. She still had no idea who the woman thought her boss was, but suggesting he offered his thanks appeared to work. Madame Bernard nodded slowly.


  Kate wasted no time in starting to scan the pages. Trying to control her nervous energy, she made a mental list of what needed to be done next. Getting a translation of the new scans would be essential, which meant she would have to confess to her boss, her real one, what she was up to. Either that or say it hadn’t been done correctly.

  She reached the end of the first page with her scanner and waited for her laptop to load the image. She checked for any errors before saving.

  “Okay.” She released a shaky breath and turned to the next page to repeat the process. The room was silent except for the burring of the scanner. She could feel the intensity of Madame’s sharp gaze. Any moment now, Kate was sure she’d question the validity of what they were doing.

  She blew out a breath as she debated the ethics of what she was doing here. Did lying to a museum official count as a criminal offence?

  They were down to just the last page. Kate pressed the button on the scanner but it refused to light up. Don’t panic. Don’t let the fear show on your face. “Always it’s the last page.” She smiled, trying to make light of the problem and prayed a complete reboot of her laptop and the scanner would solve the issue.

  She took a deep breath before holding the scanner up to the final page. The light came on and the machine worked as normal. It took all her effort to stop her hands from shaking in relief. Placing the scanner down beside her, she checked the quality of the images and verified that she’d gotten all of them.

  Etienne moved to help her stow the equipment back in her bag. “Double check that you have the documents. We don’t want to have to return.”

  Anger replaced adrenalin. Did he really think she was an idiot? She slammed the case shut with a bit more force than she’d intended, startling Madame Bernard.

  Pasting on a bright smile, she shook her hand, thanking her as proficiently as she could in French, before following Etienne towards the door. Just a few more steps and they’d be free.

  Her hand had barely touched the door handle when Madame Bernard called out.

  “Attendez!”

  Kate froze and turned her head. The woman was holding up Kate’s scarf. In her haste, she’d forgotten all about it.

  “Oh! Merci Madame. C'était un cadeau…err from my marie.” She took the woollen wrap and strolled out the door.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “YOUR HUSBAND! YOU’RE married?” Etienne placed a hand on Kate’s arm, pausing their progress down the street. He was so surprised he could barely choke out the words. What jerk would let his wife roam around Europe alone chasing after thugs?

  “No. Of course not.” Confusion marred her brow. “Just improvising. I thought it made me sound more authentic.”

  “Quoi? First you’re paranoid about crossing the line over to the criminal dark side, and next you’re inventing a whole new life for yourself.” The woman was unbelievable.

  “It was just a small lie.”

  Her nonchalance irritated him. “Well do yourself a favour. Next time you improvise, try focusing a bit closer to the truth. It’s less easy to get caught out. Don’t they teach you anything before letting you loose on the world?”

  Etienne ran a hand through his hair. From the startled gaze she gave him before marching off down the street, he’d hit a nerve. This was why he worked alone. He didn’t have time for bullshit. He caught up with her and grabbed her wrist, pulling her around to face him.

  She stood in front of him, her gaze fixed to her feet. He felt like a heel. Maybe he shouldn’t be so hard on her. She’d been cool and calm back in the museum, making sure they had everything they needed to progress.

  He tucked a finger under her chin and lifted her head to meet his gaze. “What did I say now?”

  “I’m not supposed to work in the field because I’m such a klutz. That’s why you knew I was following you. Why you had to rescue me in the park. Fuck, you probably did steal my passport because I’m sure it wasn’t in my bag.”

  Etienne willed his expression to remain impassive. It was strange to have to force something that was normally second nature. But Kate Jackson had thrown him off kilter from the moment he’d first spied her. The sooner he had no need for her, the better off they’d both be.

  A hard thump on his shoulder broke him out of his reverie. “Ouch. What was that for?”

  “You deserved it.”

  His lips twisted in a wry smile of acknowledgement. If he didn’t now, he would sometime soon in the future. “Maybe, and maybe you were a klutz as you call it, but we got what we needed.”

  Her eyes brightened. Her face lit up with a smile, and his gut twisted with guilt. This was fast becoming a dangerous situation. He hadn’t been cross with her. He didn’t care what lies she told. He’d been annoyed at himself for getting so riled up at the thought she was married.

  He needed to put some distance between himself and Kate as soon as possible. However, he needed those chansons first. “Alors. Let’s go look at what we have, and you can tell me more about why you can’t be a field agent.”

  Etienne glanced up the street to see where they were. This side of Paris, there was a small, discreet hotel around the corner that had the perfect bar for clandestine meetings. Dark, quiet, and with high seated booths that would shelter them from prying eyes.

  Taking her elbow in his hand, he scowled at the way his fingertips itched to feel the softness of her skin underneath the thick wool coat. “Come on, I know the perfect place.”

  Etienne slid along the burgundy leather seat next to Kate. Coffee was on its way, and he hoped the dark, bitter liquid would bring him to his senses. Though what he really needed was a scotch.

  Kate already had her coat unbuttoned and was firing up her laptop to examine the images. He shrugged out of his coat, but as he did so, a cigarette fell to the table. Before he could reach for it, Kate had already picked it up.

  “I didn’t know you smoked.”

  He plucked it out of her fingers and placed it back in his shirt pocket. “That, chérie, is my lucky cigarette.” He pointed towards the laptop. “I hope you’re not relying on me. My Occitan isn’t exactly up to scratch.”

  “It’s okay. I search for the patterns, anyway.” She dug into her bag and pulled out a stack of papers. “I’ve got another translation that I can use to understand specific words, but what led me to realise that something was missing was that the language changed.”

  “Isn’t that just a variation to avoid repetition?”

  “I thought so at first, but then I saw that though the words are similar in meaning they have very subtle differences.”

  She tucked her short hair behind her ear and stared at the screen. Zooming up the magnification, she brought one section into focus and turned to him. Her eyes alight with excitement.

  “Show me the necklace?”

  “What? Now?”

  A frown marred her forehead. “I thought you had it with you?”

  “I do, but I’m not about to get it out in the middle of a bar. Besides, stripping down to my underwear might embarrass you.”

  If Kate was onto something, he didn’t want her seeing the inscription now. The information, even though it wasn’t correct, in the wrong hands could have consequences and may jeopardise his chances of a meeting with Mercier.

  She let out an impatient sigh. “Come on, you must know if there’s an inscription or not?”

  “You show me what you’ve found, and I’ll let you know if you’re onto something.”

  He leaned over to get a better view of her screen. The sweet scent of her perfume assailed his nostrils, but before he could take a deeper breath, Kate banged down the lid of her laptop.

  “Uh-uh. No deal. I might not be the world’s greatest field agent, but neither am I a fool.”

  “I thought we were partners?”

  She turned to face him, her eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Except I’m not entirely convinced you wouldn’t sell your own grandmother if it helped your cause.” She glanced down at her hands as if
unsure to continue, before meeting his gaze again. “I keep on asking myself, why you do it?”

  “Do what?”

  “Steal paintings. From what I’ve heard, you’ve enough money to fund your own private museum, so why steal them?”

  His jaw tightened at the accusation. He played the part of an idle playboy perfectly. Perhaps a little too well. Even his mother had started hinting that he should be more like his brother and do something to keep the family fortunes intact, not race around the world spending money on an empty lifestyle.

  “I keep telling you I don’t steal them. Or at least not in the way you mean.”

  She cocked her head. “Is there any other way?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes. One day you’ll understand.”

  Disbelief turned into a scowl. “Don’t patronise me.”

  “Then start using your brain and stop believing in preconditioned nonsense.”

  “So answer my question. Why do you procure paintings by dubious means?”

  He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and leaned in before whispering, “For the thrill of the chase.”

  His lips rose in a small smile as her eyes widened and a blush stole the pallor of her cheeks. Now was his opportunity. As she turned towards him, he closed in and kissed her, swallowing her gasp of surprise.

  Her lips were soft beneath his, and when she opened her mouth to him, he took all the advantage he could get and deepened the kiss. She placed a hand on his chest, her fingers curling around the material to pull him closer.

  The sweet taste of her made him wish for different circumstances. Time to explore the sensuous curve of her neck and let his fingers roam across the soft swell of her breasts.

  His pulse sped up, and reality came crashing back. He was supposed to be distracting her but was in danger of losing himself in her welcoming embrace. If he was to make a move, it should be now.

  Placing his hand slowly over the papers she’d left beside her laptop, he slid them towards his side of the table. Pain shot up his arm as she slammed down the palm of her hand on his fingers, halting his progress and the kiss.