Lie by Night: An Out of Darkness novel (Entangled Ignite) (19 page)

Emma looked at him in surprise.

“No.” Cherise sounded agitated. “I did what you asked. You promised this was the last time.” Anger and a shading of fear had crept into her voice. “Fine.” Her abrupt word appeared to end the conversation. “Damn it!”

Emma almost felt sorry for her. Almost.

The sounds of Paris street life continued to blare from the speaker.

She looked at Cole. “Now what?”

“Now we wait for Joey to do his work.”

He rose and began to pace. Back and forth across the room, his hand tapping impatiently at his side. At last, he stopped at the window.

She crossed the room to grasp his hand, stilling his fingers. Raising them to her mouth, she kissed them. A strong arm wrapped her shoulders, holding her close. They stood quietly, taking in the sight of the Eiffel Tower in the distance, absorbing this rare moment of peace. When Cole pulled away, Emma quickly slipped the rubber band off his wrist.

“Hey there,” he protested with a smile.

She shoved the rubber band into her pocket and gathered her courage. “Cole?”

He leaned toward her, so close she felt his breath brush her face, as intimate as a kiss.

“What?”

“Earlier, you…”

Cole’s phone rang. His eyes never left hers as he fumbled for his phone. “Stevens.” He stiffened at whatever the caller had to say. “Okay, let us know.”

He ended the call and dropped his phone back in his pocket. “Joey followed her to Charles de Gaulle. She just bought a ticket to New York.”

Emma bit her bottom lip.

Cole nodded. “We need to go home.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Emma hurried to pack. The possibilities raised by Cherise’s destination whirled through her mind. Was she going to see Alistair? Did she know where Jacob was?

Did it mean anything that her trip took her to Zach and Lizzie’s home state? Or was New York just a stop along her way?

She shoved her few pieces of clothing into her apricot luggage, then hurried to scoop up her toiletries and dump them on the bed, quickly separating the items that had to go in a plastic bag for security screening. She sealed the baggie, threw everything into her luggage, and zipped it shut. Her hands stroked the soft leather as her mind raced.

What if Cherise was simply running away and taking her desperately needed information with her? They should never have let her leave the hotel. They should have forced her to tell them what she knew. She turned to confront Cole.

He stood behind her, appearing both handsome and sturdy in his brown canvas coat— both crazy attractive and comfortingly reliable. He grasped his duffle in one hand, his phone in the other as he scanned the contents of the screen. “Joey’s getting on Cherise’s flight. It leaves in twenty minutes so we’ll never make that one. He booked us on the noon flight.” He looked up at her. “We’ll just make it.”

He walked into the bathroom as Emma’s concerns died on her lips. The sounds of him tossing his items in his bag served as mere background for the dervish of uncertainty that ran through her brain.

Had she unwittingly allowed herself to be sucked into the search for Alistair and the need to protect the Westons? Although she’d thought today’s plan served both objectives—find Jacob and protect the Westons—what if she’d allowed the search for Jacob to come second?

She slipped into her jacket and picked up her bag.

Cole reentered the room. “Ready?”

“Ready.” Uh huh, she was ready. Ready to reprioritize and refocus on her brother.

She slipped her hand into her pocket and curled her fingers around her Mace. No longer ready to share her concerns, she offered only a half nod. She needed to think.

He reached for her small case, shifting it to the same hand that held his duffel. “I like a woman who travels light.”

He planted a hard kiss on her lips, and they hurried out the room. It seemed a lifetime ago that she’d arrived to find him disheveled and on the edge of losing control. In reality, this visit to Paris had lasted less than twenty-four hours.

Cole hailed a cab at the front of the hotel, and they scrambled into the back seat. “Charles de Gaulle, Air France. Our flight leaves in two hours.”

“
Oui, monsieur.
” The cab accelerated smoothly into traffic.

Cole wrapped an arm around Emma’s shoulders. “The next time we come to France, let’s try leaving at a leisurely pace.” He placed a kiss against her head.

She fidgeted with the hem of her jacket. “Cole?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you come to France in the first place?”

A horn honked behind them, and the cab swerved to claim a gap in traffic. Progress along the busy street was measured in inches at this hour.

“We came across encrypted communication that appeared to be from Alistair. It indicated a drop in France.” More important than what he said, Emma heard the words he didn’t say. Jacob was somehow involved.

The air in the cab became stifling. Emma felt the tension building in Cole. He was a smart man, and she was sure he’d noticed her withdrawal before they even left the hotel. It appeared neither of them wanted to expose what they were thinking.

He exhaled on a sigh. “The drop was used by a man matching Jacob’s description.”

She felt the distance grow between them, although neither actually moved. “A man matching Jacob’s description?” The words left her mouth with careful control. “You’re judging my brother because another man with brown hair and brown eyes was seen at the drop? How many brown-eyed, brown-haired men do you suppose there are in France?” She turned glittering eyes toward him.

“He had an American accent.”

She waved her hand in dismissal.

“He had a scar.” He raised his hand to his own face and traced a line along his jaw, just below his ear.

A scar like Jacob.

She lifted her chin. “So you just assumed it was Jacob.”

“I assumed it
could
be Jacob.” He reached for her hand and held it gently in his. Her fingers remained limp in his grasp. “Emma, I have to follow the leads exactly the way you did the other night with Grant. I have to assess to the possibilities.”

When she failed to respond, he threw up his hands in frustration. “Dammit, Emma, I don’t want Jacob to be part of Alistair’s inner circle.”

She turned to look at him with pain-filled eyes. “I know.” She brushed trembling fingertips along his jaw. “You don’t want to believe Jacob is involved with Alistair. But I will never believe he’s knowingly part of that treachery. You
want
my brother to be innocent, but I
know
my brother is innocent.” Her hand dropped to her lap. “There’s a difference.”

There was nothing left to say. She was right, and he knew it.

At the airport, they jogged past more leisurely travelers until they came to Air France. The line waiting for tickets and baggage check snaked along the maze of red velvet cords and extended down the aisle way.

She felt unwelcome tears of frustration fill her eyes. Her silly, little daydream of a nice, quiet life seemed so foolish…so unachievable.

Cole pulled his credit card from his pocket and led them to a kiosk. “Ah, the beauty of automated check in for the traveler with no luggage to check.”

She attempted to smile at his humor, but a pained look crossed his face in response. Oh well, she felt like hell and had never been good at hiding her emotions.

They boarded the plane with time to spare, settling into the spacious third row of first class.

They sat in silence as the plane taxied down the runway. Once it began to climb, he tried again.

“Emma…”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk right now.” She looked at him with tears shimmering in her eyes. “We have different goals. We believe different things. We are committed to different things.” His stubborn refusal to see they were at cross purposes angered her.

“That’s not true.” He breathed a heavy sigh of frustration as the plane ascended above the clouds. “We both want justice. We both want to stop Alistair from harming the people we love. We both…”

Emma waved her hand back and forth to stop him. “No, we’re different. I want the Westons to be safe. I want Alistair to be caught. We may both want to stop Alistair from harming the people we love, but you have Zach and all the resources of Weston Security working with you. But
I
am the only one completely committed to finding my brother and making sure he’s safe.” She looked out the window at the unending stretch of blue sky before returning her eyes to Cole. “No matter what.”

No matter my feelings for you.
She swallowed hard, unable to break eye contact.

…

Although she didn’t say the words, Cole heard her loud and clear. In the race for her loyalty, he finished a distant second.

His
I love you
from earlier echoed in his head, mocking him. He felt like a fool.

The trip back across the ocean passed slowly, the tension between them never fully abating, partly because Emma remained distant and partly because the damned drug continued to wreak havoc with his emotions. They disembarked without speaking. As soon as they cleared customs, he passed her the pepper spray, and they headed for ground transportation where a young man hailed them.

“Kyle!” Cole stepped forward to exchange a brief hug and claps on the back with his friend. A couple of inches taller than Cole, Kyle’s broad shoulders and short, honey brown hair failed to hide the family resemblance. When the man flashed a smile, he looked just like Lizzie.

Cole introduced him to Emma. Aside from a brief hello, Emma said nothing until Kyle opened the passenger door of his black jeep for Emma.

“No, that’s fine. I’ll sit in the back.” Before either man could protest, she opened the door and climbed in.

“A driver picked up Cherise and drove her to Grant’s old building,” Kyle said as he merged into traffic.

Cole frowned. The penthouse. The place where, months before, Alistair had almost killed Cole and kidnapped Zach a second time. A buzz of adrenaline ran through him; he was closing in on the truth.

He assimilated this new information with everything else he knew, but clarity eluded him. He worried the master plan would become clear too late.

Kyle continued. “We’re running a check on the driver. He appears to be from one of the local limo companies. He dropped Cherise off at the building less than thirty minutes ago.”

At Cole’s surprised glance, Lizzie’s brother grimaced. “The woman shopped Bergdorf Goodman before heading to the penthouse. We had to bring Becca in to help watch her—she’s part of our security team.” He tossed the information over his shoulder to Emma and blew out a heavy breath. “As near as we could tell, Cherise didn’t make contact with anyone. And we haven’t heard anything from the bug since she landed.”

“So she might be aware we’re tailing her.” Cole’s mind flashed back through his encounters with Cherise—the chummy dinner with Jacob and Emma, the miserable morning after, her delighted surprise when they showed up at her apartment in Paris, the night she drugged him—again. All along, she’d held the key. He’d lay odds she’d contacted someone during her spending spree.

Kyle shrugged. “Maybe. Probably. We’ve got all three exits from Grant’s building covered.”

“Who lives in Grant’s old condo?” Cole shot a look at Emma as he asked the question.

She said nothing; her normally emotion-filled face blank.

…

As Kyle brought them up to speed, Emma finger combed the tangled locks of her hair, then slid a band off her wrist and captured the mass in a ponytail. She clasped her hands in her lap, the nonchalance she’d worked hard to achieve belied by her white knuckles.

Who lives in Grant’s old condo?

Though she had no idea what the answer was, the question nevertheless trickled around the edges of her thoughts, gnawing at her. Why
would
Cherise go to Grant’s old place? While she firmly believed the other woman was working with Alistair, she found it hard to believe Grant was also a willing partner in the bastard’s plans.

Of course, that left unwilling participation wide open. Unlike Cole, who merely loathed the man, Grant had clearly feared him.

Kyle accelerated into the bustling highway traffic before answering Cole’s question. “He sublet it to a young couple through a realtor, no kids. From what he says, Grant’s never met them. Said he hasn’t been back to the place since he moved out.” He glanced at Cole. “I think we have to assume the renters are involved in this. Or that Grant is.”

Emma clenched her hands tighter. “I don’t think it’s Grant. He seemed very sincere about protecting everyone from Alistair. He hates the man.” Kyle’s clearly biased assessment of Grant annoyed her. If he couldn’t see that Grant’s motivation, Kyle’s niece, for God’s sake, sat right in front of him, then what were Jacob’s chances of receiving the benefit of the doubt?

Cole grunted. “That means nothing. Grant hated the man when he kept his secrets about Zach, Daniel, and Lizzie’s disappearances, too. He’d sell his own grandmother if it made things easier for him.”

“That’s not fair! He was frightened for his daughter.” She crossed her arms and sat rigid in her seat. Grant had been frightened the same way she was frightened for her brother.

“Yes, he was frightened for his daughter, but his choices? He could have helped save his daughter’s entire family, but instead he thought only about Sam, and he turned away from people he could trust—which only put Sam in more danger.” Kyle glanced in the rearview mirror. “I’m sorry, Emma, but Cole’s right about what Grant did—”

Cole shook his head, urging the other man to remain quiet.

Sighing in frustration, Emma changed the subject. Grant’s actions might not be motivated in exactly the same way hers were, but they were still similar. “Doesn’t it seem odd that Cherise waited so long to head to the penthouse? I mean, it’s obvious she’s an obsessive shopper, but it’s as if she headed out just as we landed.”

Again the men exchanged glances. Another coincidence.

“Where are we going?” she queried when it appeared they had nothing to add.

“To the penthouse.” Kyle and Cole responded at the same time, their voices neutral.

An ominous cloud settled over them as the jeep raced down the highway, barreling toward answers.

…

The penthouse rose majestically from the center of a beautifully restored downtown district. Remodeled a decade before, the exterior consisted of meticulously laid brick and stone. Gigantic, carved eagles kept watch from the roof, visible only if patrons tilted their heads toward the sky. Clouds swirled low around them, cloaking the sentinels in shadow, obscuring their view of the mortals below.

A plate glass double door marked the entrance. As they stood on the sidewalk in front of the building, not a single fingerprint marred the pristine, gold encrusted entry. Despite the nervous energy racing through her, Emma stared in awe at the sheer grandeur of Grant’s old residence.

“Where’s Zach?” Cole’s question drew Emma’s attention back to the mission at hand.

“He’s taken Lizzie and the kids to Florida to be with Aunt Sophie. She ended up with a bad case of flu on her trip. It’ll be a few more days before she’s ready to travel home.” Kyle surveyed the area. “Zach took a couple of men with him.”

“Good.” Cole nodded his head. “They’re safer if they aren’t here.”

“Our people are in place.” Kyle nodded toward a woman wearing black jeans, a gray turtleneck, and a black leather jacket. Emma recognized Becca from Weston Security. She sat on a bench in the small park across the street from the building, a newspaper spread on her lap, her eyes shaded by dark glasses despite the clouds that blocked the sun’s rays.