by Eve Langlais
“Yes?” The police chief eyed him with sudden suspicion.
“This is more of a favor than a clue. It turns out, I bought a car that I have no use for. I don’t suppose you could use another patrol car?”
“You are too kind.” The rest of their conversation faded as Hugo escorted Jacques out, leaving Ariel to pace the office. The walls were barren of bookcases. Just painted a cream color with vivid artwork on two of them. Thick floor-length drapes lined the patio door. The desk provided a focal point with only two chairs facing it. Stark and yet expensive. The room could have used some kind of ornate yet masculine sideboard. How could she gauge these things at a time like this?
What else could she do but admire the stonework on the floor, the pattern intricate and expertly laid?
Hugo slipped back into the office a moment later. “He’s gone.”
“For now. Possibly not for long. I don’t think he bought it.”
“I think he’s got his doubts, but I know Pierrot. He’ll hint at something else needed for the station before he outright accuses me of anything.”
“What do you mean, you? I’m the culprit.”
“He likes you. He’ll blame me first.”
“If that happens, then I will tell the truth.”
Hugo shrugged. “If it makes you feel better. I doubt you’ll go to jail. More likely, he’ll have a proposition for you, too.”
She cast him a glance. “He can propose, it doesn’t mean I’ll accept.”
“We all do things in our life we’re not proud of in order to survive.” A cryptic thing to say. He grabbed some glasses from the tray on his desk but left the decanter alone. “I think we need a drink.”
“Make it a double. It’s been a hell of a day.”
“It could have been worse.”
“Worse how?” she asked. “Someone died.”
“But we didn’t.”
“That’s not exactly reassuring.”
“I don’t bullshit.”
She expelled a heavy breath. “Well, maybe you should try. You might be acting all cool and blasé about having a dead body in your pool, but I’m a mess. A part of me feels like I should be in more shock, that I should feel more guilt, maybe run after the police chief and confess.”
“That would not be useful.”
“See, and it’s statements like that which make me wonder if I should be listening to you. Are you a crime lord of some kind?” It would explain the wealth.
“What if I said ‘yes?’”
She blinked at the unexpected reply. “Are you really?”
“It’s complicated. But suffice it to say, I do things the law wouldn’t approve of.”
“Like hide the truth. Now that you’ve told me that, does this mean you’re going to kill me so I can’t tell anyone about you or anything I’ve seen?”
“I would never kill you.”
She almost sighed in relief until he added, “I’d hire someone, of course.”
She glared at him, and he had the temerity to laugh.
“Lighten up, Ariel. While I might not be a good guy, I’m also not a murdering psychopath.”
“Why couldn’t you pretend to be some kind of philanthropist who gives to the poor? It’s a more attractive look.”
“I thought women loved bad boys.”
For a moment, a face flashed in front of her mind’s eye, the sneer on it, and the look in the eyes a match for the dark hair flopping over a brow creased in anger. “Not all women.” The image faded, and she spaced out a minute before tuning back in.
“…out tonight.”
“What?”
“I said, with everything that’s happened, we need a night out.”
“I’d say that’s the last thing I need.”
“What else are you going to do? Sit in your room and watch television?”
“I was going to have wine and maybe some cheese.” Because, personally, she thought barricading herself in her room with a weapon sounded smarter than going out.
“You’ll never learn anything by staying inside.”
“What if I’m recognized?”
“Isn’t that the point?”
“By the wrong person,” she snapped. “Or have you forgotten, I was attacked?”
“By a burglar.”
“Or a hired killer.” She flung out her hands. “I have a target on my back.”
“Maybe they meant to kill me.”
She snorted. “Really? Is that what you’re going with?”
The grin he wore was much too handsome. “A man wants to feel important.”
“I wish they were trying to kill you,” she muttered.
“Guess we’ll never find out for sure who their target was. Maybe next time, you’ll leave them alive so we can question them.”
Her anger faded as quickly as it came. “It really was an accident.”
“I know. Which is another reason for you to come out with me. You need to get your mind off things.”
“I can’t eat.”
“Then ignore the food, but there will be alcohol. And possibly some nudity.”
She arched a brow. “Mine, or yours?”
“The entertainment. I am supposed to attend a private party.”
“Is it really the right time to be going to one?”
“Never better if we want to throw Pierrot off the scent. Since you shouldn’t be alone, you’re coming with me.”
“I’m really not in the mood.”
“Too bad. You’re accompanying me, and that’s final.”
The command straightened her spine. “Don’t you dare pull the patriarchal nonsense with me, sugar. I will make my own decisions, starting with the one where I stay here.”
“Then I’ll stay with you. We’ll change into some comfy clothes, get some buttered popcorn, throw on a movie in the parlor. Maybe even get a fire going. Do you like wine?”
The intimacy he suggested caused even more panic to run through her than the thought of leaving the house with him. A few glasses of wine, and she might forget her resolve to keep her hands off him. Might not care that, on the other side of her memory wall, someone might be waiting for her.
“On second thought, you’re right. A change of scenery sounds perfect. After all, what can anyone do to me while we’re in public?”
He leaned close. “More than you’d think if there’s a tablecloth.” And with that outrageous statement, he walked away. She changed her panties before they left.
16
Interlude: Bachelorette Party
A flash of red hair caught Carla’s eye, the shade very familiar. She turned to see Meredith stepping into the club wearing a cute floral-pattern summer dress. Not her usual slinky attire. She had her hair drawn back, her makeup almost nonexistent, and if it weren’t for the fact that they knew each other so well, Carla might have thought her friend had a doppelganger.
She clung to the arm of some stranger, a big man, wearing a suit in a place that usually showed more skin, not less. The floor they were on, the ground-level, acted as a lounge with comfortable chairs and loveseats scattered about with tables to set drinks. A haze of smoke filled the air, clinging to skin and clothes, coating the lungs. As an ex-smoker, she couldn’t stand the smell of it anymore and missed the laws governing her state.
Serving the patrons were waiters, male and female wearing black bottoms and white tops, but that was as far as the uniform aspect went. Some chose booty shorts and tied-off blouses. Others went with actual slacks and collared shirts.
Those working the floor grabbed drinks from the bartender, who also served a long, curving bar, the surface of it gleaming in the neon lights that ran along its edge. It was the brightest thing in the room with the rest of the dim lighting. Despite seeing lips moving all over, Carla couldn’t really catch more than a few words here and there as the thumping of the music upstairs blended with the hum of conversation.
When the song paused, she could hear a roar, dancers waiting for the next beat. The
second floor was the lively section with dancing and live shows. Guess where the bachelorette party was scheduled to happen?
She already wore her crown that said bride. Wore the silly clipped-on veil. But the rest of her was anything but virginal, although she’d chosen to wear white. The skin-tight dress was a splurge—on Meredith’s urging as a matter of fact.
She’d taken Carla shopping and made her buy the form-fitting thing. It was worth the price tag when she saw Philip’s face as she blew him a kiss before getting in the blacked-out Suburban that’d brought them to the club.
He was off to his bachelor party, despite his protests that he’d rather not. He’d watched the movie, The Hangover with her and elucidated all the very valid reasons men should never have one last hurrah.
She’d kissed him and said words that still held power for her, “I trust you.” Loved and trusted Philip in a way she’d never expected to experience. She just didn’t trust others to keep their hands off her man.
Carla stood on tiptoe and made a point of moving enough to draw the eye. Meredith never once roved her gaze around. Not even to check out the room.
First odd thing.
Second? Meredith kept herself tucked, shoulders a bit rounded, a look Carla had never seen before. Was Meredith okay?
The sharp whistle Carla blew had a bunch of people looking around, but there was only one she intended it for. Meredith’s gaze danced around the place, even briefly alighting on Carla. Then it moved on without even a hint of acknowledgement.
The urge to barge over and force a conversation occurred to Carla. She was very proud of her self-control, especially since Mother had told them she was on a mission. A mission that didn’t require backup?
Meredith and the man entered a door at the far end of the place, the one leading to the private lounge. Fuck being discreet. Carla was going in for a peek.
Before Carla could march into that private party, though, Tanya noticed her lagging and waylaid her. “Where are you going? The party is upstairs.”
Tanya had her blond hair in two ponytails, one on each side, both streaked pink. She’d gone for a bright look this evening, something she did more often now. It suited her.
“I just saw Merry going in there with some guy.” She angled her head, knowing Tanya would figure it out.
“You didn’t know him?”
Carla shook her head. Before she could reply, the rest of her wedding party returned and surrounded her.
“What’s wrong?” Audrey asked. She looked soft and sweet in a romper that ended at mid-thigh. It did an excellent job of hiding the shape of the pistol she had strapped to the inside of her leg.
“Merry’s acting weird.”
“You saw her?”
“I did, too,” Portia stated. “She and some guy were getting out of a sports car when I got here.”
“I saw it. Porsche. A sweet ride.” Louisa whistled. “My Rosy has always wanted one of those.”
“No surprise that Merry found herself a rich one to play with. Think he’ll last until the wedding?”
“Three days? I think it depends whether he tries to pin her down. He mentions serious and long-term, and she is gone.” Tanya waved a hand and almost took out a tray of drinks precariously balanced as the waiter passed.
“One day, she’s going to find the right one,” Audrey stated. “Like we did.” The tight group had finally shed their pasts and, in some cases, their roles with the agency that gave them a second chance. Carla had more or less left the agency but did the occasional mission for fun. Tanya was doing hacking only these days and working with her new live-in boyfriend.
Audrey had told her just that morning that she was pregnant. She and Mason couldn’t be any happier.
As for Carla, she was getting married.
She needed tequila and something to work off the stress. She glanced upstairs. Dancing would help.
“Hey, who wants to see what he looks like?” Louisa asked. “I’ve got video.”
“How did you get footage before me?” Tanya exclaimed. She was usually the one burrowing into the networks.
“Rosy is in there and saw them coming in. She’s never met Merry and asked me who the hot redhead was.”
“I want to know who the hunk is,” Audrey said. Upon peeking at Louisa’s phone, she whistled. “I can see why Meredith ditched us. That man is all kinds of handsome.”
“Don’t let Mason hear you say that, or he’s bound to spank you,” teased Tanya, a change from the mom who’d previously turned red at the mention of sex.
“I should be so lucky.” Audrey fanned herself. “Ever since he found out I was pregnant, he’s been super overprotective and is talking about us getting a house in suburbia.”
“The horror!” someone said, and the group laughed.
Carla, however, wasn’t amused. She pointed to Merry on the screen. “Mission or not, three days before my wedding, and she acted as if she didn’t know me,” Carla complained. She missed the reassuring presence of the older woman.
“If she’s working, then she obviously doesn’t want to blow her cover.” Portia took her side, but only briefly as Tiger Mom, living up to her name, checked in on her twins via the remote camera she’d set up.
Again.
Carla elbowed her. “They’re fine. Aunt Judy is not going to let anything happen to them.” The Aunts were retired agents who acted as security for the moms’ families when they had to go on missions.
“She is letting them watch television.” A frown marred Portia’s features.
“Let the kids live a little. They’re on vacation.” Carla rolled her eyes.
“She has a point. They’ll be okay,” Tanya jumped in to reassure.
“Television rots the brain. My girls are only allowed three hours a week watching preapproved documentaries. No video games. No social media,” Portia said with pride.
“Which explains why they’re weird,” Carla muttered.
Portia glared.
Tanya tried to defuse the situation. “We should ask Mother about Merry and her beau before we barge in. Where is she?”
It was Carla who noticed the woman with dark skin in a bold, red dress, her crimped hair bobbing, au natural and glorious.
“Doesn’t look like Mother is planning to join us.”
The ones with their backs to Mother couldn’t turn to look, not without drawing attention, but Louisa whistled. “Your mom is looking hot tonight.”
Tanya wrinkled her nose. “Don’t talk like that about Mother.”
Mother swung her hips and didn’t look at them once as she entered the private lounge in the back via the same door Meredith had used.
It was Audrey who said, “Looks like they’re ditching us for the bachelor party.”
The men weren’t into the same kind of dancing as they were. Having met Percy, the pranking best friend Philip had from his military days, there would be some naked women.
She thought of Philip. And naked women.
“Ladies, change in plans. What do you say we crash the bachelor party a little earlier than planned?”
It was Tanya who snared the waitress as she passed with her tray of shooters. “To the bride!” She held up the glass.
“To the bride!” they said before tossing them back. With liquor warming their bellies, they plotted their ambush.
Chapter Seventeen
The moment Ariel stepped onto the pavement outside the club, she wanted to go home.
Except she didn’t have a home, just Hugo’s house. Beautiful, luxurious but also very temporary. She had nowhere to go. No one to protect her.
The reminder got her inside, where the number of people had her huddling close to Hugo.
He placed his hand over hers. “No one will do anything here. It’s too public.”
It should have reassured, and yet she found herself anxious. Would someone in here recognize her? What if no one did?
The fear of either scenario kept her head tucked and her body close to Hugo
’s as he navigated them through the room to the far side of the club. Awareness prickled her skin, a crawling feeling. Was she watched?
A sharp whistle drew her awareness, and she glanced over to see a room full of people not paying her any attention, except for a woman in a spectacular white dress.
Her intent look pinned her, and Ariel couldn’t hold the gaze. She glanced away. Why did that woman stare? Was it jealousy? Did she know Hugo?
The very idea that he might have been with that beautiful woman irritated. It shouldn’t have, but it did.
She kept expecting the staring woman to confront them. Perhaps start a row with Hugo in public. Instead, they stepped from the buzzing bar area and entered a quieter, private lounge. She couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder, wondering if the woman would follow.
The door swung shut, blocking her view. Her actions didn’t go unnoticed.
“Something wrong?” Hugo asked.
“Nothing.” She bit her lower lip and explained, “Or maybe something. There was a woman staring at me. Us.”
He immediately halted. “Why didn’t you say so? Maybe she knows you.” He began to pivot, but she stopped him, the hand she had looped with his arm urging him to remain.
“I didn’t recognize her.”
“Maybe if you got close.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think it will make a difference. Could be she was looking at you.”
“Me? Why?”
Was he truly that dense, or fishing for a compliment? “You’re handsome and rich. I’m surprised we haven’t been mobbed.”
“I don’t go out often. No one knows me well outside of my villa. So, I doubt the woman was looking at me. Let’s go see.”
When he would have moved, Ariel pulled free. “We can’t go back out there.”
“Why not?”
“Because what if I’m wrong and she wasn’t looking at all?”
“Then no harm.”
“I don’t want to,” she huffed, in a bit of a panic.
“What if she knew you? What if meeting her jogs your memory?” Hugo asked.
“What if I find her and it turns out I still don’t remember? Every time I turn a corner or come across a new face, I have this hope that everything will suddenly return to me. Each time, I’m disappointed.” She ducked her head. “What if I am nobody forever?”