Lie by Night: An Out of Darkness novel (Entangled Ignite) Page 8

  “Emma…” He touched her hand.

  She pulled back. “No, let me finish. I’m mad at you about what happened six months ago. My brother thought you were his friend, and you betrayed him. You say you liked him. Well, of course you liked him! Everyone likes Jacob. But like him or not, you used him.” She searched his face. “And you tried to use me. When that didn’t work, you used Cherise. Did she provide the information you wanted?’’”

  “Emma, I didn’t…”

  She held up a hand to forestall his explanations. “’What’s done is done.” She handed the blanket to the attendant as she passed. “I don’t want to talk about the past.” Emma watched out the window as Paris, a city she’d always wanted to visit, took shape below them. “Why are we going to see Cherise? Are you still pumping her for information?” Heat suffused her cheeks. Poor choice of words. “Are you still seeing each other?”

  “God, no.” He snorted. “Cherise and I—”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she interrupted him once again. “All I care about is finding Jacob.” Except, the annoying voice in her head insisted, it did matter.

  He heaved a sigh. “Are you going to give me a chance to answer your questions?” Forcing emotion aside, Emma nodded.

  “Cherise’s name has popped up several times in this investigation—her relationship with Jacob, her presence at one of Forrester’s drop sites. A working relationship with another of Forrester’s suspected employees. So, I want to talk with her in person. And you knew her better and longer than I, so it will help to have you there. You may notice something I overlook.” Cole held out his hand. “Partners?”

  Reluctantly, she took his hand, and they shook on a partnership based at worst on lies and at best on partial truths. Her skin tingled at his touch. When she tried to pull back, he held tight.

  “When I invited you to my room, I wasn’t thinking about Jacob.” He didn’t look happy about this revelation. “I wasn’t thinking about my mission or Forrester. You made me forget my priorities.”

  Emma frowned, refusing to be moved by his admission. If he was implying he’d invited Cherise because of Jacob, it didn’t exactly paint him in a better light. He released her hand.

  As the plane descended, she ignored him, but her thoughts weren’t so easily controlled. She didn’t want to be attracted to Cole, but it was hard to overlook their chemistry, impossible not to be touched by his small kindnesses—when he wasn’t annoying the hell out of her.

  She wasn’t proud to admit she’d thought about that moment at his door many times. His surprise and pleasure at seeing her, the surprise and dismay when Cherise appeared.

  Emma bit the inside of her lip. So, she was still attracted to him. And she appreciated his thoughtfulness—the blanket, the toiletries back at the hotel, the loan of that stupid backpack.

  Though she knew she shouldn’t, she wanted to trust him. Despite the things she knew to be true. Despite the things she suspected.

  The plane touched down in Paris, France. The city of love.

  Chapter Eleven

  Emma had once dreamed of visiting Paris. Today, she didn’t even register the sights as the cab sped toward their destination. She shook off her funk when the cab made an abrupt stop at a crosswalk.

  The streets teemed with life. The rich, the poor, the working class, the terribly elite. And all of them made Emma feel undeniably average. They had a sophistication she lacked. It wasn’t just her clothes. In fact, she suspected that almost everyone they passed would have worn her grungy jacket with aplomb. They had attitude that she’d never managed to possess.

  The cab deposited them on Rue Dauphine, close enough to the legendary Carrefour de Buci that she could see the bustling crossroads in the distance. Shoppers carrying canvas bags that overflowed with fruits and vegetables headed in their direction, chatting in French and accented English. The smell of baked goods, roasted meats, and fresh flowers lingered in the breeze.

  She began to regret picking at her meal on the plane.

  “This way.” Cole led her away from the market. They joined the flow of pedestrians headed north.

  She smoothed her rain jacket against her faded jeans. Her clothes had been perfectly suited for the island trek. She certainly hadn’t planned to be traipsing through beautiful Paris in clothes she’d worn for nearly three days. Even the young man currently picking up his impressively groomed poodle’s poop appeared more dashing than she.

  “We’re here.” Cole stopped in front of a modern, upscale apartment building on Rue Dauphine. Upscale and intimidating.

  She tucked a stubborn strand of hair behind her ear. Same clothes and woefully inadequate hair products. Great.

  “Emma.”

  She turned to face him, surprised by his hesitant tone. She did not want to talk about Cherise again. She raised her brow and dared him to continue—staring him down until the dapper young man walking his beautiful, black poodle stopped alongside them.

  “Excusez-moi,” the man said, jerking them out of their standoff. They turned to watch the man as he sauntered by.

  The man tipped his hat. “Ah, young love.”

  Emma snorted. If he was a day over twenty-one, she’d be surprised. His laughter drifted back to them as he continued his leisurely stroll along the street.

  “Come on.” Cole ushered her into the courtyard, his hand riding the curve of her back. He knocked on a deep blue door on the left side of the yard.

  No one answered.

  “She’s not here.” Emma shifted, and his hand fell away.

  “She’s here.” He knocked again. Harder this time.

  “How do you—”

  A voice called from inside, “I’m coming.”

  A shutter slid open on the inside of the door. A bright blue eye peeped through the small window.

  “Cole!” A lock flipped, the door flew open, and Cherise stepped out. She placed her hands on either side of his face, rising on tiptoe to place a kiss on each cheek. “But of course it is you, an impatient American, banging on my door.”

  Cherise stepped back and looked at Emma, a delicate frown creasing her brow. “And Emma…” She tapped one manicured finger against her bottom lip. “I almost didn’t recognize you.” Cherise clapped her hands. “There is a lovely little café just down the street. You must try it, no? Perhaps, you get coffee while Cole and I enjoy the chat.”

  Unbelievably, the woman was even more annoying than Emma remembered.

  Cole’s hand came to rest again at the small of her back. “Knock it off, Cherise. You’re no more French than I am.”

  “Mon ami, how little you know about me.”

  When Cole raised a brow, Cherise shrugged and smiled. “Come in, come in.” All trace of a French accent disappeared.

  She opened the door wide and waved them in.

  Cole pressed lightly on Emma’s back, propelling her forward. They followed Cherise through an elegant cream-colored entry that opened into a stunning living room. Stone graced the walls while contemporary furniture provided a striking counterpoint to the old stone. Dark, wooden parquet floors gleamed. Decorated in warm gold and ivory tones, the room exuded sophistication.

  A deep, plush rug covered the center of the floor, bordered by an ivory sofa on one side and a large, white leather chair and oaken table on the other. A sleek coffee table sat in the middle of the carpet, showcasing a silver tea set. Emma started toward the chair, only to feel deliberate pressure against her back as Cole steered her to the sofa.

  “May I offer you anything to drink?” Cherise stood at the head of room. “I just made tea. Or I have soda or water.”

  “No, thank you.” Emma sat on the sofa.

  “Tea would be great, if it’s not too much trouble.” Cole joined her.

  “What brings you to France?” Cherise sat in the chair and poured two cups of tea. She handed one to Cole, her fingers lingering on his before she pulled away.

  Ignoring the coquettish display, Emma studied her face.


  “We’re looking for Jacob.” Cole laid his hand casually on Emma’s knee.

  “Jacob? My goodness, Cole, I haven’t seen him in months. For a while, I had high hopes for our relationship.” She smoothed a nonexistent wrinkle from her pants.

  Emma thought a hint of sincere regret passed across Cherise’s face. She bit the inside of her lip, reminding herself that the woman was an accomplished actress whose naked presence in Cole’s room had dashed those high hopes.

  “Then, there was that unfortunate night. Too much wine…” She paused and glanced at Cole from beneath long lashes before turning to Emma. “Jacob traveled so much, and when he got called away, I was angry and lonely. Still, we might have worked through our problems if you hadn’t blabbed.” She clasped her hands in her lap and pursed her lips.

  Unbelievable. Cherise was blaming her?

  “Did you ever meet the man he did all this traveling for?” Cole asked.

  Cherise tilted her head. “No, I don’t recall meeting anyone.”

  “Any new friends?” His tone was casual, as if they were three old friends catching up. As if her brother’s pain over the betrayal didn’t exist.

  “No.” Cherise wrinkled her nose. “Wait! There was one evening about a month before we broke up. We were at a friend’s birthday party here in my beloved Paree, and there was this man…” She rose from her chair and strolled to a large buffet table. She opened one of the doors and removed a small stack of photographs. Her French manicured fingers flipped through the pictures. “Ah yes, here it is.”

  She returned and handed a photo to Cole. “See Jacob?” The picture showcased a group of fashionably dressed young women blowing kisses for the camera. But in the background, Jacob appeared to be in deep conversation with an older, distinguished gentleman.

  “He was with this man for quite a while.” Cherise pouted. “I was quite put out. Here we were at a great party, and Jacob spent most of the night with this guy.”

  Emma’s eyes widened. She stared at the picture. “I…I remember this man. He was at a benefit for 9-11 families.” Emma looked at Cherise and then at Cole. “Jacob spoke with him briefly, but when I asked who he was, Jacob…he said it was just a guy he’d met, and then he changed the subject. That was several months ago.”

  Cherise smiled at Emma. “The night I saw this man, he and Jacob were thick as thieves.” When Emma’s eyes narrowed, Cherise blinked innocently. “So to speak, of course.”

  Cole interjected, “This man is Alistair Forrester.”

  Emma’s glance sliced to him. He looked not at the picture but straight at her, as if weighing her response…as if judging her. As if judging Jacob.

  She glared at him.

  “Oh yes, if this is Forrester, they certainly knew each other.” Cherise nodded brightly.

  “My brother never mentioned knowing, let alone being close to, Alistair Forrester.” Emma struggled to control her temper. Jacob had told her he’d only recently met the man in the photograph. Maybe Cherise had seen them together at a party, but they had only Cherise’s word that they were thick as thieves. The woman had to be lying, because Jacob would never lie to her. She was sure of it.

  An uneasy thought nibbled at her certainty. Would he lie to protect her? Perhaps lie by omission?

  Brushing the troubling questions aside, she returned her attention to Cherise. Her brother was her brother, period. The trust between them was absolute.

  “You know, I’m quite certain I saw them together more than once.” Cherise smiled at Cole before turning back to Emma. “Jacob had bills. School wasn’t cheap for either of you. He’d been looking for other work. Now that I think of it, he started his incessant traveling shortly after this party.” She fluttered her fingers at the picture.

  Emma stiffened. “Jacob wasn’t worried about money enough to take another job. He’s dedicated to serving his country.”

  The woman inclined her elegant head. “Dear Emma, he just didn’t want to worry you.”

  Emma didn’t believe her for one second.

  “If you hear from Jacob, will you let us know?” Cole pulled a business card from his pocket and handed it to Cherise. “You’ve been very helpful. We appreciate it.”

  Cherise sighed. “I wish I could help more. Unfortunately, I haven’t see Jacob since several weeks before I moved to Paris. He was such a charming young man.”

  Emma stood. “Was?” Blood pounded in her ears.

  “Oh dear, no, I just meant, well, I miss him.” Cherise inclined her head in Emma’s direction. “I’m sure he’s fine. Probably busy working. Maybe for this, um, Monsieur Forrester.” She lowered her voice. “Incognito, if you know what I mean.” A hint of stress around her eyes belied her light tone.

  Emma turned to Cole, who smiled at Cherise, his eyes intent on hers. “Emma, do you mind waiting for me at the door?”

  Emma’s frustration overflowed. How stupid was Cole? Falling for Cherise’s act when it was obvious she was trying cast Jacob in the role of villain. Emma rose. “Thank you so much for your help, Cherise.” She forced a smile at Cole. “I’ll be in the entry.”

  “I’ll be right behind you.” A note of warning accompanied the word.

  Ignoring him, Emma retrieved the backpack, spun, and exited the room. When she reached the front door, she fought the urge to jerk it open and flee. Although Cole believed Jacob was in cahoots with Alistair Forrester, she knew her brother would have a good explanation for everything once they found him.

  Fine. If Cole intended to follow the wrong information, then she would search on her own. She yanked the door open and hurried through the courtyard, not stopping until she reached the sidewalk. She’d start with Cherise’s misinformation. There was only one reason why Cherise would work so hard to cast doubt on Jacob.

  Cherise was involved in whatever conspiracy had entrapped them.

  She looked about at the unfamiliar surroundings as realization hit. What had Cherise told them? Exactly nothing. So now where was she going? Cole was still her best bet, even if he thought the worst of Jacob.

  She’d head for the market. Cole could use his special training to find her there. She set a brisk pace, her anger growing with every step.

  Chapter Twelve

  Cole’s pulse raced at the slamming of the front door. Moments later, he left, sprinting through the courtyard in search of Emma, his duffel bag hanging loosely from his hand.

  Where had that irritating woman gone?

  He’d seen the look on her face when she saw Forrester’s picture. Although she recognized him, he’d bet his life she’d had no idea who he really was.

  But Jacob? Her beloved Jacob was another matter. He hesitated a moment and turned left, back toward Carrefour de Buci. She’d head for some place familiar.

  His heart pounded as he picked up speed. The damned woman could be in danger. Didn’t she know that?

  Probably not.

  Because he’d failed to trust her with the complete truth about Forrester’s operation. Even so, she should have realized they might be followed by his men. If he’d mentioned the possibility that he’d been drugged by Cherise that night, perhaps she wouldn’t have thought he was falling for the other woman’s act. But he hadn’t mentioned it. After all, without proof, it was just a lame excuse for his disreputable behavior.

  Damn it!

  He stopped on the outskirts of the market and paused. Running his hand along his jaw, he perused the area. Which way…

  “It’s about time you showed up.”

  Cole whirled to face her. Relief and anger raced through him. “What the hell did you think you were doing, running out like that?”

  “I was hungry. What the hell did you think you were doing, hanging on that lying woman’s every word? Flirting with her while she practically accused Jacob of treason.”

  He froze. His eyes hardened. “Treason?” The word slipped from his lips, a lethal exhalation of breath. “I didn’t hear her say anything about treason.”

  Panic
flared in her eyes, but she shrugged in a futile attempt to avoid his unspoken question. Her glance darted from side to side. “People are staring,” she hissed.

  Cole forced a smile and took her hand in his. Their altercation was indeed drawing unwanted attention. The last thing he wanted was to stand out. Hell, he’d bet Alistair’s men already knew of their visit to Cherise. “Come on.” He started walking.

  Relieved that she followed despite her anger, he set a fast pace. She was in danger. Every instinct he possessed screamed it.

  “Cole…”

  “Wait, let’s go someplace private first.” He glanced at her tense face.

  Apparently, he succeeded in communicating urgency, because she held her questions and ran to keep up, her hand locked in his.

  They weaved in and out of the heavy foot traffic for a couple of blocks until a taxi pulled to the curb ahead of them and an elderly couple stepped out.

  Cole caught the door and slipped inside, pulling Emma with him. He fired instructions in French.

  “What?” Her exclamation was lost as he spoke rapidly to the driver, pulled out his wallet, and handed several bills into the front seat. The car sped from the curb.

  “What are—” The car turned sharply down a side street, interrupting her question a second time. She fumbled for her seat belt. The cab spun around another corner, and she careened into Cole. Aware of her confusion, he remained focused on the traffic behind them, searching for any sign they were followed.

  The cab jerked to a halt. Cole’s door flew open.

  “What do—?”

  He reached to unhook her seat belt, pulling her from the cab. The backpack slipped from her fingers. She lunged for it, barely capturing the strap before they took off down the street.

  This time he sprinted, pulling her along behind. “You really need to work on your vocabulary, dear.”

  Her retort died as he yanked her into the doorway of a quaint building made of limestone.

  She opened her mouth and then slammed it shut.