by AK Leigh
This time, in a polite tone, she asked, ‘Who are you?’
He stepped closer and held out his hand, ‘Oh, I’m so sorry. I should have introduced myself. My name’s Gabriel Montcoeur. Everyone calls me Gabe.’
She raised an eyebrow as she shook his hand, ‘Your last name is … mountain heart?’
He looked surprised, ‘You speak French?’
‘My mother was French, and Swiss.’
Would he pick up the past tense she’d used?
He didn’t seem to. At least, he didn’t remark on it.
One of his eyebrow’s rose, ‘Really? Parlez vous française?’
Do you speak French?
She grinned, ‘Un peu.’
A little.
‘Plus d’un peu?’
More than a little?
He’d said it with a hint of playfulness.
She decided to play along. ‘Peut-être.’
Maybe.
He laughed, ‘Moi aussi, mais seulement un peu.’
Me too, but only a very little.
She chuckled, ‘Cela est évident.’
That is obvious.
The corner of his lip quirked at their banter, sending a shot of heat to her heart.
Before she had time to process what it meant, he asked, ‘Ne vous dérange si je demande où votre père est de?’
Do you mind if I ask where your father is from?
‘Pas du tout. Il était Australien.’
Not at all. He was Australian.
Again, she answered in the past tense.
He smiled, ‘Bon à savoir.’
Good to know.
All of a sudden, she felt her expression slip. What was she doing? She didn’t even know this man. Or why he was here.
‘Can we switch back to English, please?’
‘Sure.’ There was an awkward pause, then he said, ‘My ancestors come from a town at the base of the alps. I’ve often thought about changing my last name. Confuses a lot of people. I’m forever spelling it and explaining its origin.’
‘I can see you would.’
An abrupt realisation came to her. She hadn’t released their handshake. They’d been holding hands during the entire conversation. She looked down. Even though his touch was warm and pleasant, and she didn’t really want to let go, she made herself.
She stared up at him and did her best to behave as though it hadn’t happened. ‘How can I help you?’
His expression turned serious, ‘It’s something of a sensitive nature. Would you be free for a coffee?’
‘You mean now?’
‘If you’re not too busy.’
She glanced at the pile of assessments on her desk then back at him. ‘I’m not too busy.’
Chapter 5
She peered over at him as she took a sip of her coffee. The innocent action sent a bubble of excitement to his stomach. Like earlier, he felt his voice close up. He didn’t even know this woman. How was he supposed to jump right into what he wanted from her? Would she see it as rude? Disrespectful? Maybe she got these types of requests all the time? It might be irritating for her. He can’t have been the first person to pick up on the loophole their website hinted at. He would work up to it.
After clearing his throat, he asked, ‘Do you like your work at the university?’
She smiled, ‘I do. It’s something that has always appealed. I remember watching people as a kid, trying to figure out their story.’
‘Their story?’
‘Yeah. I would study them to see if I could work out why they were sad, or angry, or happy.’
‘Like some type of mentalism or body language interpretation?’
‘Mm. Yes and no. A lot of criminal profiling is gut instinct. Like most fields of law enforcement too, I suppose? My sisters would probably tell you the same thing.’
He hesitated. How was he supposed to react to the knowledge of her sisters?
She grinned, ‘It’s okay. If you’ve been here longer than an hour, I’m sure you’ve heard the gossip about us already.’
The memory of the students at the entrance to her building replayed.
‘Yes. I have.’
She gave him a cheeky grin then winked. ‘Most of it’s true.’
He laughed, ‘How do you deal with it?’
She shrugged, ‘You get used to ignoring it.’
‘Must be hard.’
‘It used to be, especially the constant comparisons, the stupid jokes, and stereotypes. But now we find it more irritating than difficult.’
‘Can you give me some examples of what you mean?’
‘Oh, gosh. Heaps of things. Where do I start? Lots of jokes include the word “triple”.’
He scoffed, ‘That’s original.’
‘Exactly … as for stereotypes, they’re the typical sleazy men’s magazine’s stuff.’
‘Such as?’
‘Such as we must be bimbos and/or nymphomaniacs who sleep with the same men. Sometimes we get treated as though we’re one person, or get spoken to as though we’re dumb.’
‘I can see why you would find that irritating.’
One side of her mouth curled up, as though she were amused by his response. ‘You are probably the only man who has ever said that to me.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah. Most men can’t understand why my sisters and I …’ She held up her hands and made finger quotes as she continued, ‘Make such a big deal about it.’
He exhaled, ‘Geez. I’m sorry.’
She smiled and added, ‘There was the pressure to excel in the same things at school too.’
‘I’m guessing you got compared a lot?’
‘Oh, yeah. All the time. I can’t tell you how many times a teacher said to me, “oh, but Nina does so well at sport” or “Carrie got an A for her science exam”. They would cop it too, “Lizzie is so good at English”, coupled with a disapproving look.’
‘Did you ever say anything to them? The teachers, I mean.’
A cheeky smile crept over her mouth. She nodded, ‘I only did it once, but it was memorable.’
He leaned forward, ‘This sounds like it’ll be good.’
She chuckled, ‘It was quite the spectacle.’
He grinned, ‘I bet.’
She made eye contact with him as she explained, ‘It was probably the hundredth time I’d been told how much I sucked at sport compared to Nina. I remember, I whirled around and yelled, “That’s because we’re different people, genius!”’
Gabe lifted a hand to his mouth in a show of mock surprise. ‘You actually said that to a teacher?’
‘I did.’
‘Did you get in trouble?’
She shook her head, ‘Surprisingly no. I actually got an apology.’
He released an incredulous laugh. ‘Are you serious?’
‘I am.’
‘Wow. That is … a cool story. You got a teacher to apologise! I’m so impressed.’
She smiled. ‘As you can imagine, it got around the school pretty quickly. The teachers rarely harassed us after that.’ He grinned, and knew Elizabeth spotted something more to it when she said, ‘What?’
He leaned forward again and whispered in a teasing tone, ‘Exactly how bad are you at sport?’
She chuckled, ‘Let’s just say there is a reason Nina is the Olympic champion and I’m a desk-jockey criminologist and profiler.’
He laughed. She had an easy-going type of humour that he liked. Elizabeth Farris didn’t take herself too seriously. Something else he found attractive about her.
The thoughts were distracted by something else sinking in. ‘Hang on. Did you say Nina’s an Olympic champion?’
How had he missed that in his research?
A proud grin appeared on Elizabeth’s face, ‘She sure is. Two-time medal winner in the biathlon. Bronze and silver. We thought she might go for a third gold medal attempt next year, but she seems adamant that she’s too old to be competing.’
‘Wow. That is an am
azing accomplishment. The biathlon is a challenging sport.’
Confusion flecked her features, ‘You know what it is?’
‘Of course. It’s a cross-country skiing and shooting event.’
‘Huh. Now I’m the one who’s impressed.’
He chuckled, ‘Why’s that?’
‘Not many people know what biathlon is. They usually think it’s some type of swimming and cycling event.’
He laughed again. ‘I did a story on it once for my university degree. We had to cover a Winter Olympics event. I chose biathlon because everyone else picked ice skating and hockey. I wanted to do something different. So I would stand out.’
An odd expression darted over her features, like she’d thought something a little naughty. Or sexy.
She grinned at her private joke as she held his gaze. ‘Well, aren’t you just full of surprises?’
He allowed a slow, relaxed smile to creep over his mouth.
After a few seconds, she waved a hand and broke eye contact. ‘That’s enough about me. What about you? Any siblings?’
He nodded, ‘Mm. I have two. Both younger than me. My sister is Camille and my brother is Jean-Paul.’
Please don’t mention my parents. He didn’t want to start the conversation about his family’s murder that way.
‘Do they live close by?’
Thank goodness.
He shook his head, ‘They’re both in New South Wales.’
‘Oh, that’s a shame. Do you get to see them much?’
‘Only on the holidays. But trust me, that’s plenty.’
She grinned at his attempt at a joke, then said, ‘I bet they say the same about you.’
He laughed, ‘I don’t doubt it. What about you? Do you and your sisters get along?’
‘For the most part, yes. We fight like any other siblings occasionally.’
As she took a sip of her coffee, she maintained eye contact with him. The glimmer in them told him she was trying to work him out: was he trustworthy or not? Good guy or bad guy?
After swallowing, she said, ‘Why don’t you tell me what you brought me here to talk about?’
Okay. The moment of truth.
He sucked in a breath and eased into it. ‘Actually, I’ve heard you and your sisters take on cold cases.’
‘We do.’
‘What is your policy regarding them?
‘What do you mean?’
‘How do you pick them?’
She eyed him with suspicion, ‘I thought you said this wasn’t about a story?’
‘It’s not.’
She kept her eyes locked on him, sterner and more guarded this time, and said nothing. She was assessing him. He could tell he had about thirty seconds to convince her.
He raised his hands in a gesture of innocence, ‘Je promets.’
Making the promise in French would have to convince her, right?
A couple of seconds passed.
‘Okay. I believe you.’ He saw her posture relax as she continued, ‘We don’t really have a policy. The cases kind of make their way to us.’
‘By the public approaching you?’
She shook her head, ‘Not really. Usually it’s contacts in law enforcement.’
‘Does that mean you are against the public coming to you for help?’
‘We have a strict no-contact policy. When we first started doing this, that policy wasn’t in place, and we were bombarded by requests from all over Australia, and New Zealand.’
That he already knew.
‘How would you feel about someone approaching you in person?’
He saw her think the question over. ‘It wouldn’t bother me. Don’t think it would faze Carrie or Nina either. So long as it didn’t become too much of an interference in our lives. Why do you ask?’
He couldn’t help smiling at her answer. There was at least the possibility that Elizabeth and her sisters would consider helping him. He opened his mouth to tell her everything when they were interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing.
She glanced down. ‘Oh shoot, I’m so sorry.’
‘That’s okay.’
He remained in silence as she rifled through her purse for her mobile. ‘It’s my sister, Nina. I have to get it.’
He nodded, ‘Go ahead, I understand.’
***
Lizzie smiled. People were not always so understanding of the bond she and her sisters shared. In fact, it aggravated most people, and it had gotten in the way of more than one relationship. Romantic and otherwise. She didn’t care. The right people understood.
Could Gabe be one of them?
The question lingered in her mind as she answered the call, ‘Hey.’
‘Hey. Just wanted to let you know a press conference has been set.’
Lizzie groaned, ‘Great. What time?’
‘Five-thirty.’
She checked her watch. It was two pm already. They would need to do prep beforehand. Nina would want them to do a wardrobe change so they looked as professional as possible. That always took a couple of hours.
She glanced at Gabe, suddenly feeling a knot in her belly at the prospect of leaving him. ‘You can’t push it out until tomorrow so we can have more time to prepare?’
And so I can get to know Gabe a bit better.
When he’d made that comment before, about wanting to stand out on his Winter Olympics assignment, it had done something unexpected and erotic to her. The thought you certainly do stand out had come unbidden. So had the sensual sensations weaving their way over her skin. From her toes to her scalp.
She’d also found herself opening up quicker than she usually did with a man she’d just met. It had been his empathy when she’d been talking about the negative aspect to being an identical triplet. Most men she’d spoken to about it couldn’t see why she and her sisters had a problem with it. She’d had to remind herself numerous times that it wasn’t easy for someone who hadn’t been through it to understand. The display of genuine empathy had made her feel comfortable.
Her sister pulled her from the recollections. ‘Sorry. You know I have no control over the time they give me. Can you get here or not?’
‘What time do you need me?’
‘Half an hour, if you can.’
Lizzie calculated in her head. Fifteen minutes to get to the police station where Nina worked—the location of the press conference. But she had to get back to her room to pick up the still unmarked assessment papers she’d left on her desk first. Which meant she would need to end the meeting she was having with Gabe right now.
She frowned. ‘I’ll be there.’ After returning her phone to her purse, she offered Gabe her most apologetic look. ‘I’m sorry about this, but I’m going to have to go. There’s a press conference I need to be at.’
‘Oh.’ There was clear disappointment in his tone. She was about to ask if he wanted to reschedule when he said, ‘Is there any way we could see each other again?’
Her heart did an odd flip. ‘Of course.’
‘Great.’
She stood. He did too. She smiled at the old-fashioned gentleman-like gesture.
She pulled a business card from her jacket pocket and handed it to him. ‘That’s all my contact details.’
He accepted the card with a smile, ‘We’ll chat soon then. It was lovely to meet you.’
He held out his hand.
She shook it, ‘Nice to meet you too.’
Their hands remained locked for a moment. For the second time that day. An unexpected warmth shot up her arm. Her gaze caught his. They said nothing for a moment.
Gabe broke the silence, ‘I had a wonderful time.’
She nodded, ‘Me too.’
More silence came.
‘Excuse me. Are you finished with this table?’
Lizzie glanced to her left. At the same time, Gabe released his grasp. She wanted to curse at the waiter who’d interrupted.
Instead she offered a polite smile. ‘Yes. We have.’
The waiter stepped around them and started to clear the table.
Lizzie faced Gabe again, ‘I have to go.’
He nodded, ‘À bientôt.’
See you soon.
She left … with butterflies doing loop-the-loops through her tummy.
Chapter 6
Gabe grinned when he saw her on the television screen later that day. Elizabeth was wearing a different jacket to the one she’d been wearing earlier. The dark blue brought out the colour of her eyes on the screen. A ball of warmth filled his chest at the sight.
Nina stepped to the microphone, ‘Thank you for coming. We called this press conference to inform you that we will be looking into the Baronie murder case. Anyone with information that could assist in solving this case is encouraged to come forward at this time.’
Gabe’s mind flashed back three years. The shocking Baronie murder had stolen the headlines for months in Perth. Australia-wide too. He had even written some articles about it himself. Gasps echoed through the crowd on the television, bringing his attention back to the present. Reporters and journalists began to shout questions.
A woman, not a Farris as far as he was aware, moved to Nina’s side, and leaned into the microphone. ‘One question at a time, please.’
Toward the front of the stage, a man shouted, ‘Tim Flint from The North Queenslander. You haven’t been on a case for six months. What was it about this one that brought you back into the game, so to speak?’
Nina focused on the man as she answered, ‘For personal reasons, each of us needed to take a break after the last case. Now we are ready to get back into the game, as you call it.’
Gabe grinned at how she’d answered the question without answering it at all. The woman had obvious experience in dealing with the media.
A woman raised her voice over the low hum of the others to ask, ‘Are there any new leads you can tell us about?’