“I am glad you enjoyed it.”
She glanced at him wondering if she’d just detected a sarcastic note in his words.
“I would like to show you the area,” he said as he dusted himself.
She tilted her head and glanced to her left. “The fields, you mean?”
“Yes, we can stroll, then I’ll ask my chauffeur to drive us to the river and walk to the town.”
“I’m not dressed for a visit to the town or a walk along the river. I’d rather go back and look at more of Doc’s files.” She started walking, eager to create a tangible space between them.
“As you wish. Let’s go home.” His eyes sparked with amusement as he seemed to read her thoughts and tried to humor her.
Damn it, how could she concentrate on discovering Doc’s murderer or searching the statue when François’ intoxicating smile blocked her view and inflamed her senses?
~*~
“Look.” As they neared the front terrace, François paused. A scowl gathered between his brows as he pointed to a black car parked on the side of the circular driveway. “Interesting. We already have a visit from the French police.”
Cheryl’s pulse raced to uncomfortable speed. “Why would the French police be involved?”
“We will know in a minute.”
An officer and a man in civilian clothes stood next to the car and turned to face them. “Monsieur le Comte… ” The officer spoke in French.
In response, François gestured toward her. “Mademoiselle Cheryl Stewart is my guest.”
The second man exhibited a card. Three embossed letters jumped at her. FBI. “Miss Stewart. I just arrived from Boston. I have questions to ask you.”
“Follow me, please.” François shielded her with his massive frame and led them up the stairs. “This way.”
Bernard opened the door almost at the same moment François rang the bell. “They came fifteen minutes ago but I couldn’t let them in when you were absent, Monsieur le Comte,” the old butler muttered between his teeth before the two visitors reached the door.
“Thank you, Bernard,” François answered softly then raised his voice. “We will be meeting in my office. I don’t want any visitors in the chateau while these gentlemen are here.”
“Of course, Monsieur le Comte,” Bernard said with as much dignity as if he owned the chateau.
Cheryl admired the butler’s loyalty. No one would intimidate him, not the French police or the American FBI.
They followed Francois to the office and settled on the leather chairs around his desk.
“Excuse me for a minute.” She dashed to her room to cover her sports bra with a t-shirt and returned to the office.
“Miss Stewart,” the FBI agent said as he extracted a mini-recorder from the pocket of his jacket. ”I have to notify you that I will record our conversation.”
She nodded. “That’s fine.”
“When was the last time you saw Professor Howard?” He kept shooting standard questions as if to verify facts he already knew. The French officer and François listened without interruption. “Why didn’t you visit the professor when he told you he was so sick?”
Cheryl didn’t like his aggressive tone and François leaned forward, his tented fingers tapping against each other.
“Professor Howard asked me not to come to the hospital but to travel to France in his place.”
“Why did you go to his office?”
“Because he asked me to. I had to cancel his ticket and book my own reservations.” Determined not to volunteer any information if she didn’t have to, she waited for more questions, her hands crossed in her lap.
“Did you touch his computer?”
“I may have touched it but I didn’t boot up his computer, if that’s what you mean. I just sat at his desk and opened the drawers to look for his airline tickets.”
“Why did you search the closet? What were you looking for?” They probably had collected her fingerprints from all over the closet as well as the desk.
François’ intent gaze never wavered, encouraging, promising protection and help. “Professor Howard’s laptop. He was used to hiding it in different places and had asked me to take it with me.”
“Why?”
She opened her hands. “I don’t know. He may have wanted me to read his files.”
“I can answer this question,” François said.
Cheryl spun toward him, tightening her teeth to prevent her jaws from sagging. How would he know why Doc wanted her to take his laptop?
His questioning interrupted, the FBI agent jerked toward the count. “Yes?”
“Two weeks ago, Professor Howard called me saying that he had learned of an interesting development. His new lead could help determine the importance of a valuable statue that has been missing from my estate for half a century. Unfortunately, he also said that his information was too important to discuss over the phone.”
Cheryl pinched her lips. Was this François’ idea of team work and friendship? He hadn’t mentioned a word of Doc’s call.
“Miss Stewart, I need to take the professor’s laptop.”
“I’ll bring it to you right away.” She smiled to show her cooperation.
“Nope. We are coming with you to get it.” The man was probably born suspicious.
François threw her a speculative look. “Maybe Cheryl would like to copy some files.”
“I can’t allow her to copy any files. These are evidence now.”
She lowered her head assuming a disappointed expression. You’re on your own, François. She had all the files she needed on her flash drive. No one could force her to release it to the FBI since it never belonged to Doc. She sent a mental thank you to her mentor who’d always insisted she backed up her files on a computer memory at the end of every working day.
The three men stood. “Miss Stewart, take us to your room,” the FBI agent insisted.
Without a glance in their direction, she left the office, strode down the hallway and up the stairs while they trailed behind her all the way to her room. She invited them in with a flourish. Let them realize she had nothing to hide.
The French officer remained at the door with François but the FBI agent shadowed her. She opened the big armoire, shuffled some of the clothes aside and reached for the laptop. “Here you can have it. And the password Doc gave me is statue,” she added with a bright smile that won her a grateful look from the FBI agent. François leveled a surprised—even confused—look at her, clearly wondering why she surrendered all her information at once.
“Thank you, Miss Stewart,” the agent said with a much softer tone than he’d used so far. “Is there anything else you can tell us relevant to Professor Howard’s death?”
“Yes.” She told him about the intruder.
The agent extracted a sheet from his briefcase and handed it to her. The whole sketch reminded her of the man she saw coming out of Doc’s office. “Look at this drawing carefully.”
“He looks like the intruder. Who is he?” Before the agent answered, she mumbled. “Oh God, the Malaysian student?”
“Probably. Have you ever seen him?”
“He never came to the School of Architecture. At least not when I was there.” And she practically lived at school. “Do you know his name?”
“Only the name given to us at the Chinese restaurant. A waiter identified him as Lee Vo. The drawing was based on the description given by the waiters and by some patrons sitting at the table next to Professor Howard. They were surprised to see him run away as soon as the professor collapsed in pain.”
“The jerk.” She wished she could find that Malaysian student and hammer him with the good hits she’d learned in karate.
“There must be some information this man wanted from the professor,” the agent mused, his gaze fixed on the laptop. “The drug he gave Professor Howard was supposed to confuse him and make him talk. But the professor was too sensitive to it and his reaction was stronger than expected.”
“It killed him.” Cheryl blinked to suppress her tears.
“No. It just made him very sick. Weakened his heart. He was poisoned but didn’t die from the drug.”
Cheryl froze. “What killed him then?”
“Someone accelerated the rate of the morphine dispenser.”
“Oh my God.” Cheryl’s throat constricted. “There were two attempts on his life?” Doc had suffered so much.
François who’d remained quiet during the exchange strode toward her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “How could this man access the ICU?”
“We think he had an accomplice. A nurse or a woman disguised as a nurse. Only female nurses were on duty at the time on that floor. We are still investigating the medical personnel.” The FBI agent considered her for a moment. “We’re dealing with criminals. That man in the sketch is the same one who killed the bus driver during the robbery of the other statue, the one supposed to be delivered to the Museum of Amsterdam. Miss Stewart, be careful. You may be their next target, if they think you know something useful.”
“Something useful? Like what? I don’t know where the statue is and I don’t think Doc knew.”
“But maybe the Malaysian student as you call him thought Professor Howard knew where the statue was hidden or at least had information leading to the statue. You were his favorite student and co-worker. And now you are in France, actively looking for that same statue. As I said, be careful. Here is my card. Please call me if you remember anything more.” He gave her and François his cards. “We’ll be in touch.” He shook hands with her and François and left the room with the French policeman.
“I’m sorry, Cheryl.” François wrapped his arm around her shoulder but she stepped back.
“You didn’t share with me your last conversation with Doc.” She waved an accusing finger at him.
“It was too vague. Nothing specific to share. It would have worried you without adding any information.”
She straightened, her fists clenched against her hips and stared at the handsome man radiating male energy. She wouldn’t mind him using a full dose of this energy when kissing her but to keep from her Doc’s conversation and thoughts was almost sacrilege. “That’s not a valid excuse. You can forget about being a team. Team is a two-way street. Something you don’t seem to comprehend.”
“Cheryl, I was trying to protect you and—”
“Damn it, can’t you understand I don’t need your protection?”
The hand he’d raised to touch her arm slammed against his side. “Didn’t you hear the FBI agent?”
“I heard him plenty. And I told you I can take care of myself.”
“Sure.” His annoying brow shot up in disbelief.
Exasperated, she shook her head. “Right now, I’m safe. I don’t have any information and I don’t have the laptop anymore. So?”
“We’ll make sure we spread the word. Just mention it to the maid who cleans your room. The gossip will be all over the chateau within an hour.” How well he knew his personnel. Did he know that Simone had gossiped about him and his butler? He finally smiled and the tension he’d created with his scowl ebbed.
“Good advice.” It was her turn to smile but she wasn’t about to forgive his secrecy. “I’ll chit-chat with Simone tomorrow morning. Meanwhile, I’ll be going to town to buy a laptop. I can’t survive without one.”
“No.”
“No?” She pinched her lips at his authoritative tone and he heaved a deep breath.
“I can save you the trip. I have an extra one in the library. You can use it.”
“I hope you don’t mind if I bring it up here.” She’d scroll through the files on her chip, in the privacy of her room.
“If you insist.” The frown etched on his forehead told her he didn’t fancy the idea of her having a laptop in her room. As if touching a laptop would automatically jeopardize her safety.
Her level of stress went up a notch with the deepening of his scowl. “Thank you. Don’t worry I’ll be careful,” she added to soothe him and get his laptop faster.
“I will bring it…after I delete some personal files.”
“Soon, please.”
He spun around and strode to the door, not bothering to acknowledge her impatience. The man could be so annoying with his protective airs. She needed a computer as soon as possible. Some information lurking in one of the files had cost Doc his life.
Chapter 6
“Where’s your laptop?” Cheryl asked as soon as the students left the informal dining area where they’d gathered for a casual but delicious dinner. Her frustration escalating with every passing minute, she’d barely opened her mouth to talk or eat and had absently raked through the noodles and shrimp on her plate
“You wanted it tonight?”
Was he joking? She wanted it four hours ago. “I’ve been waiting all evening.”
“Come with me to the library,” François said, his trademark smile in place as if he’d just invited her for a stroll through the garden.
The light hand he laid on her back had her seething but she tamped down on her impatience. Borrowing his computer tonight was way better than waiting till tomorrow to go into town and buy a new laptop. She’d be able to work all through the night until she found something interesting. But why was he procrastinating so long before giving it to her?
They entered his office and accessed the library through the French door separating the two rooms. “Why don’t we enter the library through the hallway?”
“The hallway door is permanently locked. I don’t want intruders. Anyone going to the library has to pass through my office where I’m usually working or… break the hallway door.”
“What’s so important about this library?”
“I have old books of great value. They’d be too easy to steal.”
“I see. Anyway where is the laptop?”
He opened the door of a cabinet encased in one of the bookcases and pulled a moving shelf revealing a laptop.
“Thanks.” Cheryl released a long held breath and tried to lift the laptop. It was screwed to the shelf. She shook it. “I can’t take it off.”
“Why don’t you work here tonight? I’ll remove it tomorrow.”
She gritted her teeth and settled down in front of the computer. After she booted it, she turned toward François, waiting for him to leave. He dragged a chair and sat next to her.
Arching her eyebrows, she glared at him. “What are you doing? I want some privacy to look at my e-mails.”
He crossed his arms on his chest. “Level with me, Cheryl. All this impatience to check daily e-mails? I thought that discovering a reason for Professor Howard’s death was at the top of your priorities? Or have you forgotten him?”
“How dare you?”
Silence drifted over them as François studied the hardly concealed tears glimmering in her eyes. Alluring eyes. But now was not the time to forget himself in their loveliness.
Had he missed something? She badly wanted his computer, any computer. But she’d willingly handed over her mentor’s precious laptop without a second’s hesitation. It was François who’d asked if she could copy some files. She hadn’t bothered…because… She’d already copied them. Of course. She’d backed up the files on a CD or a jump drive. He glanced at the pouch she carried at her waist. A CD wouldn’t fit there.
“Cheryl, we can do a better job working together. And let me tell you, you’re brilliant.”
“Excuse me?” She narrowed her eyes, as if ready to blast him with an invisible torpedo.
“Absolutely brilliant. You did back up the files last night.” He could have kissed her to thank her for being so smart…and so pretty.
She suppressed a smile and shrugged. “Last night I was too tired. I took a backup before I left home, in case something happened to Doc’s laptop.”
“I’m glad I brought you to the library. It’s private and secure.” He left her and went back to his office to switch off the light and lock t
he door leading to the hallway. Out of habit, he threw a look out of the window and glimpsed a silhouette sneaking away from the chateau toward the fields.
His jaws locked, François studied the darkness lightened up by a half-moon that sporadically hid behind a cluster of clouds. Who was the man hiding in the field at night? Maybe a murderer watching Cheryl’s room?
Unaware of the potential danger outside, Cheryl leaned toward the monitor screen, deeply engrossed in her reading like a conscientious student brushing up on material for an important exam. Her breasts stretched the silk of her blouse beckoning, tantalizing, hypnotizing. His Adam’s apple bounced as he swallowed a couple of times. She shook her head and her silky hair cascaded down her back, guiding his gaze in a safer direction.
Fisting his hand, François felt a surge of protectiveness invade him and tighten every muscle in his body. He glanced at the drawer where he hid a handgun. When Cheryl finished looking at her files he’d go out and check the area. Like his ancestors, he was absolute master of his estate and felt responsible for his villagers and guests. He joined her in the library and silently pledged that no one would come close enough to Cheryl to endanger her without meeting with a bullet from his gun.
When he reached her, she’d already inserted her flash drive into the laptop’s port and browsed through the files.
“Doc named his files by dates,” she said without even glancing at him when he settled in a chair next to her.
“Interesting.” Not that he really cared how Professor Howard saved his files.
She smelled of vanilla and fresh flowers and he could feel the warmth of her skin at such close proximity. He knew he was playing with fire but he wouldn’t move from his place if his life depended on it. The view of her slender neck and lovely profile was worth the pain he’d endured to control his desire.
“Isn’t it? I’ll look at those from June and July.”
What was more interesting was the fact she’d finally relaxed and was sharing her findings with him. A smile tugged at his lips. Complimenting her intelligence was more effective than showering her with platitudes about her beauty. He’d have to remember that and stop offending her with suggestions of protection.
Book Boyfriends Cafe Summer Lovin' Anthology 2015 Page 81