Far Side of the Sea

by Kate Breslin

  He set down his cup and leaned across the table as well, until their faces were close enough that she again noted the green flecks in his hazel eyes. “If you don’t mind, Mrs. Mabry, I prefer Johanna. It is a lovely name that carries strength, and it means ‘God is gracious.’”

  Pushing himself back against the chair, his smile returned. “I think it suits you.”

  The sudden fire beneath her skin could have ignited a forest, but his words pleased her immensely. Jo tried to steady her rapid pulse. “I don’t mind.” She glanced down at the napkin in her lap. “And . . . thank you.”

  He didn’t respond, and when she looked up, he was watching the approaching waiter carry their food. His gaze slid to hers. “Believe me, Johanna, I am as eager as you to finally locate your sister.”

  “Of course you are.” Jo, once again you are a muttonhead! She shifted in her seat. Just because Colin thought her name lovely didn’t mean he felt the same about her. And why should he? They were only pretending to be married.

  Did she need to be reminded of the reason Colin Mabry had come on this quest in the first place?

  Jo was relieved to start tucking into the simple breakfast, and her thoughts soon returned to Colin’s upcoming meeting. “Do you know how to get to the Jardin des Plantes?”

  He nodded and wiped his mouth with the napkin. “The park is about a mile south of here. I plan to set out in that direction once we return to the hotel.”

  He set down his napkin and regarded her. “When I read the diary, I also gathered from Jewel’s words that Kepler knows how to get to your father.” His expression softened. “I imagine you are anxious about that as well.”

  Her pulse thrummed. “I have waited a long time to find him.”

  Jo spread butter on the fresh bread. She’d removed her gloves to eat, and the silver dove on her ring gleamed beneath the café’s lights.

  Abruptly she realized Colin was focused on her hand.

  “I remember seeing your ring at the restaurant in Paris.” His attention shifted to her. “Did your father give it to you? I only ask because it suddenly occurred to me that Jewel wore a similar band.”

  “Did she?” Jo paused with the knife in midair, her heart hammering. “I mean . . . yes, Papa gave me the ring when he visited me the one time in Ireland.”

  She was tantalized by the notion her sister had an identical ring. “If her ring is exactly like mine, then they might be part of a set. I read somewhere that, centuries ago in medieval Europe, gimmel rings were very popular and used in betrothals. The engaged couple would each wear one of the rings, and when they married, the two bands were fitted together to make the wedding ring. Sometimes a third ring was held by the person who would witness the marriage, and given over during the ceremony.”

  Jo glanced at the shiny dove. “I hope Jewel still has hers.” Her eyes lifted to his. “And I hope she will agree to take me to our father.”

  “I cannot imagine why not.” His smile faded as the dark brows drew together. “Though there is much we must first learn about her situation with Kepler.”

  “You’re right, of course.” She handed him a slice of the buttered bread. While Jo knew the danger of getting her hopes up, she still desperately wanted to believe. She looked at him shyly. “I suppose we can hope for a miracle.”

  Colin paused with the bread in his hand, his hazel eyes warm. “Always, Johanna.”

  The conviction in his voice raised her spirits, and as she took a bite of her own bread, she determined to try to put his words of yesterday to the test.

  If she had faith, perhaps miracles would happen.

  Colin reached the Jardin des Plantes a few minutes early and stood a moment facing the brick entrance to the park, an old artillery gate likely from Napoleon’s day. A smile touched his lips. With Johanna’s love for Bonaparte, she would have been captivated by the structure.

  He walked past the ironwork gate. Ahead, several statues dotted the woodland grounds, and farther on were scattered park benches and a water fountain. As Colin neared the fountain, he spotted Petit’s tall, lean figure clad in the khaki uniform of the American Expeditionary Forces, captain’s bars on the epaulettes.

  Colin gave a sharp salute when he reached him, and Petit smiled. “At ease, Lieutenant.”

  “Is that your true rank, or another disguise?”

  Petit didn’t answer. “Walk with me.”

  Like two soldiers on furlough, they took to the wide, tree-lined path and strolled through the park, with its sculpted foliage and statues of Greek gods and goddesses. The sweet smell of spring grass and the faint perfume of pink and blue hyacinth clusters bordering the green lawns made him think of Ireland and the time he’d spent with his uncle, a time when war’s darkness seemed far away.

  The image shattered as he and Petit passed another group of prisoners raking the park clean of the last traces of winter’s debris, and Colin remembered why he was there.

  They reached the edge of a canal winding leisurely through the park’s center. A rustic wickerwork bridge led to a small wilderness area on the other side.

  Colin glanced at the number of small dovecotes scattered about the wooded area. “Very scenic, but we’re wasting time”—he glanced at Petit—“Monsieur Lacourt.”

  Petit smiled. “I figured you knew I sent the note. The hotel has a few spies, so using Henri’s name seemed best.” His features sobered. “I checked on you. Quite the war record.” His gaze dropped to Colin’s prosthetic. “I imagine the tunnel collapse must have been terrifying.”

  “You imagine correctly.” Colin’s tone was curt. “Why did you ask me here, Petit?”

  “I’m with the American Corps of Intelligence Police.”

  Finally some answers. Colin shot him a sardonic smile. “After the drugging incident and the return of my documents, I gathered you were connected with the American Secret Service.”

  Petit nodded before he squinted up at the clear sky. “The man in your photograph—”

  “Kepler?”

  “Yes, Kepler. We’ve had our eyes on him for the past several weeks. Something big in the works that I cannot discuss. He and the woman are to be surveilled only.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  Petit turned to him. “Because if you go shootin’ off your gun in this herd of longhorns, you’ll stir up a stampede.”

  Colin eyed him with confusion. The American certainly had an odd way with words.

  “That means, Lieutenant, this is a highly sensitive assignment, and you and your missus need to leave. Go back to Paris or Britain or wherever you call home. You’re not wanted here.”

  Colin’s anger flared, and he leaned toward Petit. “I’m not leaving until I see Jewel.”

  Petit’s features were as hard as stone. “You are leaving. G-2 wants you out of Toulouse. Your presence here jeopardizes our mission.”

  The man’s statement gave Colin pause. If the American military intelligence agency was demanding he leave, it was possible MI6 would back up the order, and he would have no choice but to return to Paris.

  Colin decided to try reasoning with the American. “Look, Captain, I just want to see her. A year ago, I was in Havrincourt and made a promise to Jewel to return after the war. When I thought she’d died, I gave up hope.”

  Petit scratched his chin. “So . . . what changed your mind? You said you thought she was dead, and the war’s not over.”

  “Recently, her sister—Mrs. Mabry—contacted me, and I learned Jewel was still alive.” He straightened. “It was my duty to come back for her.”

  Petit’s dark gaze bore into him. “Your wife is Jewel Reyer’s sister?”

  “Johanna is not really my wife; we are just posing as a married couple. Lacourt’s idea.” Colin explained about the message he’d received from Johanna, his coming to Paris, the diary, and their search for Jewel and the women’s father.

  “So Mrs. Mabry is Johanna Reyer?” Petit seemed to be trying to keep up. “I imagine it’s you
r reason for separate rooms, then?”

  “Well, of course.” Colin bit back his exasperation. “Captain, you must see why it’s important I get a chance to identify the woman with Kepler. If she’s not Jewel, we must take our search elsewhere.” He didn’t add that he had no idea how to proceed if the latter were the case.

  Petit stared at the ground a long moment before he faced Colin. “If I tell you where you can find Kepler and the woman, you need to promise me you won’t do anything to arouse their suspicions. Strictly observe, make a confirmation, and report back to me. Are we clear on that?”

  “Of course, Captain. I understand discretion.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Petit scanned the immediate area, which was mostly empty. On the other side of the canal, a mother watched her three small children run in the grass, and a young couple stood arm in arm near one of the statues. He turned back to Colin. “Kepler is actually staying at your hotel. In fact, he’s been at Hôtel Blanc quite some time. He’s posing as a Swiss manufacturer and goes by the alias Monsieur Outis.”

  So Kepler was a spy. Colin grimaced. “Outis. A Greek word meaning ‘nobody.’”

  “Very good, Lieutenant. So, Mr. Nobody dines each night at eight o’clock at Le Bibent on Place du Capitole.”

  “I know it.” He and Johanna had walked past the restaurant the day before during their visit to the square.

  “Frequently, Mrs. Nobody will accompany him.”

  Jewel? Colin disliked the possibility she was posing as “Mrs. Outis.” He knew himself to be honorable in his pretend marriage to Johanna, but Kepler was not to be trusted.

  Colin could only pray her virtue remained intact. The possibility she’d been ill used by the bounder . . .

  He blocked the thought. “You think they will be together at dinner tonight?”

  “It’s possible.” Petit cocked his head. “I’ll warn you, though, seeing her won’t be as easy as you think. She dresses in mourning black from head to toe, including a hat and veil. When she’s not with Kepler, she keeps to her room.”

  “So you have not seen her?”

  Petit shook his head. “I know she has light-colored hair, because I once saw a blond strand escape the veil. I’ve also stood beside her on the elevator, and I believe her eyes are a lighter shade, blue or gray. The veil she wears is thick, so it’s difficult to know for sure.”

  Colin found himself growing more aggravated. “Exactly how do I identify a woman shrouded in black when I am not allowed to approach her?”

  Petit shrugged, then gave Colin a friendly slap on the back. “Hey, with any luck she’ll accompany Kepler to the restaurant tonight, and while she eats, you’ll get enough of a glimpse behind the veil to determine if she’s Jewel Reyer.”

  Colin’s heart raced at the thought of possibly seeing Jewel this very night. “And if it is her, what then? When can I speak with her?”

  “When I say you can.” Petit’s mouth tightened. “In the meantime, you report back to me. I told you before, there is more going on than you know. Just return to the hotel and give me your answer. We’ll work something out from there.”

  Colin bristled. He knew when he was being pushed around. “I came all the way here from Britain to find her. Are you telling me once I do, I will have to walk away?”

  “Yes. I don’t know. At least for now.” Petit pulled off his cap and ran a hand across his crop of dark hair. “Let’s take things one step at a time, shall we? First identify the woman. If she is Jewel Reyer, then we can figure out the rest. And you must give me your word of honor you won’t try to contact either of them. It’ll be my neck if you do.”

  Chaotic thoughts crowded Colin’s mind as he looked on the serenity of the park. What kind of “something big” did Petit and the Americans believe Jewel was involved in? “Are you telling me she could be an agent . . . for the enemy?”

  Petit hesitated. “We don’t know for certain.”

  “Perhaps she had no choice.” Jack’s words came rushing back, and Colin again considered the woman he’d known a year ago and his recent decision to take her back to Britain as his wife. Before coming to Paris, he’d been confident of her innocence, yet here in Toulouse—knowing Jewel remained with the Boche spy and the pair was being surveilled by the Americans—his certainty began to waver.

  Colin didn’t want to believe her guilty of treason, but if she was being coerced . . .

  His gut tightened, and he stared at Petit. “Is she in danger?”

  “We’re watching Kepler pretty close, which provides some measure of protection. Still, it’s no guarantee.” Petit returned the cap to his head. “I wish I could tell you more, but you understand about orders. I have mine.”

  Colin nodded. “I’ll be at Le Bibent tonight. 2000 hours.”

  “Will you take Mrs. Mabry with you?”

  He studied Petit. “Is that a problem?”

  Petit frowned. “Only if she fails to follow my instructions.”

  “You have my word that Johanna will observe and nothing more.”

  “Good.” Petit’s face broke into a wide grin. “By the way, I saw her giving you what for in the lobby yesterday. Hooey, what a firecracker!”

  Colin tensed as he stared at the peculiar American.

  “Relax, Lieutenant.” Petit laid a hand on his shoulder. “A filly who shows a little spirit is the best kind.”

  Dropping his hand, he turned to start back across the wickerwork bridge. Colin followed.

  It seemed their interview was at an end.

  As they reached the opposite bank of the canal, Petit halted to watch a pair of swans floating with the gentle current. “I’ll leave you to carry on, Lieutenant. Let me know what you find out.” He shot a glance over his shoulder. “And good luck.”

  CHAPTER

  12

  Colin and Johanna arrived at Le Bibent by cab a few minutes before eight o’clock. The sky had already gone from a dusky orange to a dark indigo, and the lights from inside the restaurant cast a warm glow onto the street from beneath the terrace awning.

  He was impressed with Johanna for having readied herself on time, yet he imagined she too was more than a little anxious to see the woman with Kepler.

  Before they left the hotel, the desk clerk had given Colin an envelope. Inside was a pair of tickets to a jazz concert later that evening, hosted by the American Red Cross Canteen. A note was included: My peace offering. Meet you and the missus at 2230.—Lacourt.

  Johanna seemed interested in attending the concert, and Colin was glad Petit felt some remorse for drugging him two nights ago. Though at the moment, their focus was on the restaurant and hopefully finding Jewel seated inside with the man in the photograph.

  After paying the driver, Colin stepped from the cab and helped Johanna alight. While he’d brushed out his uniform and put a shine on his brass, she surprised him by wearing a pink dinner dress and matching satin coat, along with silver shoes and a less ostentatious hat in pink and white that sported a black feathery plume.

  Altogether she looked quite lovely, the colors enhancing her fair features. She smiled at him, her expression a mix of nervous excitement. “Are you ready?”

  Colin’s pulse raced. Was he ready? All afternoon, his mind replayed the conversation with Petit. Was Jewel working with Kepler? She’d been with him for months—why hadn’t she left? Was there more going on than the Boche spy’s promise to take her to her father? Was she being coerced . . . or was it something else?

  He exhaled a deep breath and forced a smile, offering Johanna his arm. “Let’s go.”

  The tangy smell of garlic, butter, and sausages wafted from the restaurant as they neared the crowded entrance. Several patrons were seated outside on the terrace, and Colin quickly glanced at their faces but found no one matching the photograph. He looked through the window glass at the full tables and was glad Petit had suggested making a reservation.

  Colin released Johanna and was reaching for the door when it suddenly burst open. He took a ste
p back to regain his balance as a tall, stout man in trench coat and hat exited to nearly collide with him.

  He caught a glimpse of the gold satin band on the fedora before the man shot him a swift glance. “Pardon, monsieur.”

  Head down again, the man rushed around the corner of the building to the next street.

  Colin stared after him, shocked. Captain Weatherford?

  “Is something wrong?”

  Johanna’s voice propelled him into action. “Wait here.”

  Colin brushed past her, racing around the corner to intercept the stranger. Yet when he reached the next street, only shadows greeted him. The man was gone. Had his eyes deceived him?

  He returned to Johanna.

  “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  Colin’s memory worked to recall the face he’d seen. “I believe I have.”

  When he refused to say more, she gave him a curious glance. He pulled the door open and followed her into the restaurant, his thoughts still churning over the strange encounter once they were seated.

  “Do you know the man who ran into you out there?”

  At Johanna’s question, Colin’s logic returned, and suddenly the notion that Captain Weatherford was in Toulouse and had just bumped into him seemed preposterous. Surely the captain would have acknowledged him, not tried to make his escape. “I thought he looked familiar, but I was mistaken.”

  “Well then, ’tis best forgotten. We are here for another reason, after all.” She removed her gloves. “Have you spotted them?”

  While Colin could hardly forget a stranger had just evaded his pursuit, there was nothing for it now. Johanna was right—they were here for Jewel and Kepler. He saw no sign of the man from the photograph among the restaurant’s patrons. “Kepler’s not here yet.” He checked his watch. “We’ve a few minutes until eight. Let’s hope they are on their way.”

  She sighed and nodded, then surveyed their surroundings. “This place is quite splendid.”

  Colin followed her gaze. Beneath rows of lit chandeliers lay a sea of white linen and gleaming silver. Liveried waiters, most of them older men or walking with a distinct limp, carried food trays and crystal pitchers of water and cleared tables after their departing guests.