French Connection Vol. 3

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French Connection Vol. 3 Page 5

by M. S. Parker


  The interior was full of expensive looking art work and sculptures I was pretty sure were worth ten times more than what Gavin and I had in our apartment back home. With each one, I wondered how many people she'd had to sell or how many tricks she'd had to force girls to turn just to get another painting for her fucking wall.

  After my second glass of champagne, I excused myself to the restroom. I considered trying to sneak past the guards at the stairs or try to convince them to let me go upstairs, but I decided against it. It wasn't like Alizee would be keeping a couple of Russian prostitutes under the bed or in the linen closet. Knowing her expensive tastes was enough for me to make a mental note to tell Pierre to look into Alizee's finances.

  I squeezed Gavin's arm and he gave me a warm smile before I walked away in search of a bathroom. I found it easily enough and shook my head at the opulence while I did my business. Once I was finished, I started back for the main room. Maybe Vincent would be here by now and he could let us know what we needed to do to get this ball rolling. I didn't want to pretend to be glad to be here any longer than necessary.

  I'd barely made it two steps down the hallway when Alizee appeared, flanked by two men even bigger than the ones who'd been guarding the stairs. I stopped where I was, my instincts telling me something bad was about to go down.

  One of the men tried to grab my purse and it fell to the floor. Along with it a bracelet I’d never seen before.

  “I invite you into my house and you steal from me?” Alizee made a tsking sound as she picked up the bracelet. “That is not a nice thing to do.”

  “I didn't steal anything, Alizee.” I kept my voice calm and even, as if I thought this was only a matter of mistaken identity or a misunderstanding. Inwardly, I was trying not to panic. Images of the two girls Pierre had shown me flashed through my mind.

  “Really?” she asked. She held up the bracelet that sparkled in the hall light.

  It was a diamond bracelet, and knowing what I did about her, I didn't doubt for a moment that it was real.

  “How come this was in your purse,” she continued. “My security will testify to that.”

  “I didn't take that, and you know it.” My hands clenched into.

  She shook her head, a wicked smile spreading across her face. “I think we need to put you somewhere while we wait for the police to come.” She looked up at the darker of the two men and rattled something off in French before adding, for my benefit, “She will not cause you any trouble.”

  Like hell I wouldn't. I was already trying to figure out the best way kick while wearing a dress.

  “If she does, I might be forced to think Gavin had something to do with this as well.”

  I scowled at her. “No one will believe you. It's your word against ours.”

  “You are correct that it will be your word against mine, but many will believe me. After all, you Americans are always coming in and taking what is not yours.” She handed the diamond bracelet to the guard on her left. “Perhaps it is time someone did the same to you.”

  “I'm not the type of person you can make disappear,” I said as the men took a step toward me. I chose my words carefully. “Gavin won't leave here without me and Vincent knows we're both here. People back in New York know we're here.”

  She shrugged. “Perhaps you will see the error of your ways and confess, though that would make it likely no one would believe you about any future accusations.” She took a step toward me, a predatory gleam in her eyes.

  “I wouldn't hold my breath,” I said, standing firm.

  “I would consider it, if I were you,” she countered. “Because accidents do happen. And not just accidents. I’m sure there are many women who would kill their lover if they found him cheating. And some who would then turn their weapon on themselves.” Her eyes narrowed. “I will give you time to think as I would prefer not to ruin my lovely party by calling the authorities about a murder suicide committed by an American woman who caught her lover with me.”

  I had to hand it to her. As far as blackmail went, that was a good threat, and I had no doubt she'd follow through with it.

  She gestured toward me as she spoke. “My men will escort you to a room where you can think about my offer.”

  “And what are you going to do?” I didn't really want to know the answer.

  “I am going to speak to Gavin in private.” She smiled at me. “I hope when we meet again later, we will both be satisfied with the conclusions that have been reached.”

  I hadn't thought I could hate someone as much as I hated Gavin's previous partner, Howard, but Alizee had managed to top him. I didn't resist as the guards approached me. No good would come from trying to fight them off. I had to be smart about this if I wanted to get Gavin and me out of here in one piece. I just hoped I was smart enough to outwit the bitch.

  Chapter 9

  Gavin

  I tried to be subtle about looking around for Carrie, but I wasn't sure I fooled the old couple I was talking to. They were nice enough, but I was starting to get a bit worried. Carrie said she was going to the restroom, but unless there was a crazy long line, she'd been gone for too long. I caught a pause in the conversation and excused myself.

  I headed toward the bathroom, but didn't get far before I saw Alizee walking my way. Her expression was serious and I felt a surge of concern for Carrie. Had something happened to her?

  “Gavin, please come with me.” Alizee gave me a sweet smile that didn't go to her eyes.

  “Have you seen Carrie?” I didn't expect her to answer honestly, but I had to try, even if just to see what she said.

  “I need to speak with you about your girlfriend.”

  That didn't sound good, which meant I wasn't sure what was going on. As much as I hated it, I knew I needed to hear what she had to say.

  “Lead the way.”

  She walked away from the main room, taking a turn down an empty hallway. Halfway down the hall, she opened a door and went inside. She didn't say anything or even motioned for me to follow, but I did anyway. I hated knowing she expected it of me, but this wasn't really the time or place to be taking a stand, not when Carrie could be in trouble.

  We were standing in a library. A fireplace on one wall, but it wasn't lit. All around it and lining the other walls were bookshelves filled with volume after volume of classics, most of which I assumed were first editions. This was the kind of library rich people had to show off how wealthy they were, not to store books for the pleasure of reading. These books probably never left the shelves.

  “Where's Carrie?” I asked, sick of Alizee's games.

  “I’m afraid your little lover is in some trouble,” Alizee said. Her smile was more pleased than seductive, but I could see lust in it. “Seems she was caught trying to steal a diamond bracelet of mine. Naughty girl.”

  I glared at her. “What the hell have you done?”

  “Nothing.”

  Such a worldly woman should not be able to speak in such an innocent tone.

  “Alizee, if this is about what happened between us...”

  “This is about just that,” she said. She walked around me and closed the door. “Because I always get what I want, and you did not cooperate.”

  “So because I didn't fuck you, you're going to accuse my girlfriend of stealing a bracelet?” I stared at her. “Are you really that petty?”

  “Petty?” She laughed as she moved closer, putting less than an inch between us. “I prefer to think of myself as creatively motivated.”

  “You know what, Alizee, I'm going to call your bluff,” I said, exasperated. I'd had enough. “Whatever lies and threats you've told Carrie aren't going to work. She didn't take anything of yours.”

  “And she will be free to share that with the authorities,” Alizee said. “Though I would not consider that a wise decision. After all, I do have a reputation in Cannes, and the police may be more likely to believe me over a stranger who is suffering from financial problems.”

  “We'l
l see about that,” I said. “Especially since I don't think you're going to call the police anyway.”

  “And what would make you say that?” She ran her fingers down my arm and I was grateful I was wearing long sleeves. I didn't like her touching me, but I couldn't push her away, not when we were still doing this little dance.

  “Because I don't think you'd want the cops snooping around here.” I stayed cautious, but I saw an opportunity I wasn't going to pass up.

  Her hands moved to my chest and pushed my suit jacket off my shoulders. “Is that so? Do you believe I do not have those in the department who will vouch for my honesty and integrity?”

  “Oh, I think you do,” I said, resisting the urge to push her hands away. There was something I needed more than I wanted her off of me. “But I also think you're involved in some things that even your buddies at the police station can't sweep under the rug.”

  Her face tightened. “You’ve been a busy boy.”

  I took the opportunity to take a step back and put more distance between the two of us. “I have,” I admitted. “And I know more than you think.”

  “Such as?”

  I knew I had to be careful here. “I know that your clubs have a bit of a reputation among customers who are looking for... companionship.”

  A slow smile spread across her face. “You are accusing me of supporting prostitution?”

  I just raised an eyebrow and waited for her to say more on her own.

  She sighed. “No, that’s not it. Prostitution is not something one would care so much about.”

  “You're right,” I admitted. “Not if it was working women doing it on their own.”

  “You own – I am sorry, owned – a sex club. This is part of the business,” she said.

  “It does tend to be,” I said.

  “And, of course,” she continued. “Supply must always meet the demand. When it does not, we must be willing to go to lengths to provide for our client's needs.”

  “And what lengths are those?” I wondered if I could actually get her to say it.

  She ran her index finger across her bottom lip in a gesture I assumed was supposed to be seductive. “I only choose those whom no one will miss. Ones who would have ended up working the streets anyway. And if you wish, I will share with you.”

  I felt sick, but didn't let it show. She'd confessed and now I had to wait for an opportunity to get out of here and find Vincent.

  “Now that we have that out of the way,” she said. “Shall we get back to discussing the terms of me not having Carrie arrested for theft?” She took a step into my personal space again, the intent in her eyes clear.

  Chapter 10

  Carrie

  A deep primal part of me wanted to go completely drama queen and start pounding on the door, screaming for someone to let me out. I almost laughed at myself for it, but the situation was too serious to find much humor in it. Instead, when the two men with no necks and even less of a sense of humor than I had at the moment closed the door, I stood in the center of the room and took a slow, deep breath. I closed my eyes and repeated it, trying to calm myself. This was far from the worst situation I'd ever been in, and I'd always made it out okay.

  I opened my eyes. I needed to keep my head. I looked around. They'd put me in what looked like a spare room, just like Alizee had told them to. Compared to the rest of the house, it was plain, but still nicer than most places.

  That didn't matter though. I wasn't here to admire Alizee's interior decorating. I needed to find something that would help me get out of here. I glanced at the window. If I'd been here by myself, it would've been simple. Unlock the window and climb out. Awkward in my tight, fancy dress, but definitely doable since I was still on the ground floor. The problem was, I wasn't here by myself.

  I couldn't run, not with Gavin still here. I would've called him, but I hadn't my phone. It was still in my purse, somewhere on the floor in the main hall unless one of the guards had picked it up.

  I frowned. Well, the easy way wasn't going to work for me. I supposed that meant I was looking for the hard way.

  And I had a bad feeling that way was going to involve a weapon of some kind. I began to look for something I could use. The problem was, I didn't need the weapon against Alizee. I could take her, I was sure. The two massive guys outside the door, however...

  I'd need something big.

  There was plenty of furniture in the room, but it was the heavy, antique kind of wood I wasn’t strong enough to break. Great for a spare room. Sucked for needing a weapon.

  I started toward one of the other two doors in the room. One would be a closet, the other a bathroom. I doubted I'd find anything there, but I had to at least look. I couldn't just sit here and do nothing.

  I'd only made it a few feet when I heard noise from outside. Not party noise. Other noise. Bad, fighting kind of noise.

  I wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing, but I hoped a fight meant Gavin had figured out what happened and was coming for me. I just couldn't figure out a way he could take down both of those guys on his own. I loved the guy and he was tough, but those two were dangerous.

  I tensed as the door opened, not knowing who I was going to see. The person walking in was just about the last person I expected to see.

  “Fancy meeting you here.” Pierre flashed a dimple.

  “Pierre, oh my God. How did you find me? What are you doing here?” Relief flooded through me as I looked into his friendly face.

  He grinned again. “What is the phrase?” he asked. “Rescuing a damsel in distress?”

  I was still in shock and searched my brain for a decent response. I just couldn’t wrap my mind around it. Pierre was here! How?

  “How did you know I was here?” I finally found my voice enough to ask.

  “I have my ways.” He turned toward the door and looked both ways. “What reason did she give for locking you in here?”

  “She claimed I stole from her,” I said and started toward the door. “I need to find Gavin. She could be hurting him.”

  He held up his hand and I froze, suddenly frightened as to who may be coming from the hallway. He placed a finger against his lips to hush me. I didn’t dare breathing, just listened intently.

  Finally, after endless minutes, he whispered, “Can you prove you are innocent?”

  “She said I took a bracelet of her. My prints won't be on it,” I whispered back, wondering if was safe to try again. Now that I felt a spark of hope, I feel desperate to get to Gavin.

  Pierre opened the door again to peek out, and I began to say we should climb out the windows when I saw them, the two security guards slumped on the ground.

  For a moment, I didn't think anything of it, I’d seen unconscious bodies before. It made perfect sense that Pierre would have needed to overtake them to get to me. Then, I realized there was blood, a lot of it and realized Pierre had killed the men, not only knocked them unconscious as I’d first supposed.

  Slowly, my brain began to process everything happening around me and I gasped, it all beginning to make horrific sense.

  I looked at the guard’s again.

  The wide eyes.

  A gaping wound across their throats.

  I looked at Pierre, trying to understand. The gooseflesh that crept up my skin was evidence I already knew.

  He sighed and eased the door closed again, trapping me with him in the spare room. “I wish you had not seen them, that you would have trusted me to lead you out of here without witnessing things you shouldn’t.”

  “It was self-defense, right?” My lawyer's brain scrambled for an explanation that would get me out of here in one piece. “You saw that they were holding me against my will. You tried to talk them into releasing me and they attacked. You had no choice.”

  He gave me an appraising look. “You truly are a skilled lawyer.”

  “Thank you.” I slowly backed away. The window was definitely looking like my best bet right now. I had to get away from Pierre b
efore I could worry about where Gavin was.

  “And I like you, Carrie,” he continued.

  This was not going a good way.

  “But you are an honest person. You will have to tell what you saw, and I cannot allow that. My employers cannot allow that.”

  “Your employers?” I asked. I wasn't stupid. The moment I'd seen the bodies I knew Pierre wasn't a journalist, but I asked for confirmation anyway. Part of me wanted to know so, if I got out of here, I'd have information. Most of it, however, was because I needed to keep him talking.

  “Let us say that my... family is not fond of hers. In Corsica, we are what you would call rivals.” Pierre reached down and pulled a knife from his boot. It still had blood on it.

  A thought hit me. “Those pictures you showed me, the files... were they real?”

  “Yes,” he said. “I needed for you to believe me so that you would testify to the authorities about the things Alizee had done. Your word would have weight.”

  “So she killed those girls?” Even as I said it, I knew what the answer would be.

  “Unfortunately,” Pierre said. “Alizee is not so sloppy. She does not leave evidence. I was forced to create my own.”

  I felt sick. I'd trusted this man, believed that our goals were the same. I couldn't afford to think about that now though. I had to keep him talking.

  “If you're from some rival family, why didn't you just kill her? You obviously don't have a problem killing people, and getting to Alizee isn't too difficult.”

  “You are much smarter than I thought,” Pierre said. There was admiration in his voice, as if he hadn't expected me to come up with such a good question. “If I killed her, my family would be the first suspect. It could cause war between our families and that would result in death. If she is arrested or discredited, we cannot be blamed.”

 

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