She managed a nod. The muscles in her neck sounded like rusty saw blades. With great effort, she said, “That’s right. Where am I?”
“You are in Hôpital Européen Georges-Pompidou,” he informed her. “What is your name?”
She licked dry lips and said, “Klein. My name is Vanessa Klein.”
“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mademoiselle Klein.” Laurent re-opened the file folder and scanned a page. His lips bunched together in a pout. “And what are you doing in France, Mlle. Klein?”
“I’m a member of the U.S. State Department. Why am I cuffed to the bed?”
His unruly brows went up. “You were brought in without any papers. No identification. And you have been shot. You say you are a member of the U.S. State Department? Where is your passport?”
“I must have lost it,” she told him. “It must have come out of my pocket in the river.”
“Ah, oui. Of course.” Laurent flashed a warm smile. “This makes sense. Now, Mlle. Klein, perhaps you would be so good as to tell me how a member of the State Department came to be in the Seine with two bullets in her back?”
She shook her head. “I don’t remember.”
The smile ran away from his face. Laurent looked genuinely disappointed. “That answer simply will not do, Mademoiselle. I find it very hard to believe that an American on a diplomatic passport should end up shot, face down on the banks of the river. This is very odd indeed. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“I need to contact my embassy,” she said.
“Also very odd,” said Laurent. “The Americans haven’t reported any of their people missing. You have been here for two weeks. Surely the State Department would have made inquiries if one of their people went missing for two weeks? Unless, of course, you are, let us theorize, a member of the American Central Intelligence Agency.”
She laid there in complete silence.
Laurent went on. “Of course, I don’t need to tell you, international espionage is a serious crime.”
“I want a lawyer,” she told him.
“All in good time, Mlle. Klein. First, we will discuss what you have been doing in France and how you came to be in the river. Perhaps if you cooperate, I may convince the magistrate to offer leniency for your crimes.”
To be Continued…
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About the Author
I was born and raised in sunny Saint Petersburg, FL on a steady diet of action movies and fantasy novels. After 9/11, I left a career in photography to join the United States Army. Since then, I have travelled the world and done everything from teaching English in China to driving a forklift. I studied creative writing at Eckerd College and wrote four hard-boiled mysteries for Delight Games before releasing the first Jake Noble book. When not writing, I can be found indoor rock climbing, playing the guitar, and haunting smoke-filled jazz clubs in downtown Saint Pete. I’m currently at work on another Jake Noble thriller. You can follow me on my website WilliamMillerAuthor.com
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