French Connection Vol. 3 (2 page)

“Go.” She pointed.

“You want me to swim?”

Alizee reached behind her and unzipped her dress, letting it fall off her shoulders to reveal that she wasn't wearing anything underneath. “Swim or fuck. Your choice.”

I took off my shoes, tied the laces to my belt and walked to the edge. Part of me wanted to look back at Alizee to see if she was going to relent, but judging by the sounds I was hearing behind me, she'd decided that if I wasn't going to get her off, she'd take care of it herself. I really didn't want to see that, so I bit the bullet and jumped.

The water was colder than it looked and my clothes weighed me down, but I didn't let any of that distract me. I began to swim, taking strong, even strokes that moved me steadily to the shore. I tried not to focus on the way my arms ached or how uncomfortable I was. Instead, I thought about what I was swimming toward.

I had a feeling it'd take me a while to find a cab that would take me back, wet as I'd be, but once I got back to the hotel, my plans were very simple. I was going to wrap my arms around Carrie and kiss her until I forgot what it had felt like to have Alizee's mouth on mine. Then, I was going to bend Carrie over the couch so I could see how red her ass was from last night and I was going to fuck her until she screamed. Once she did that, I'd take her to our bedroom and make her come until she passed out.

That should help me forget that this awful day had ever happened.

I kept those thoughts in my head as I swam and they helped warm me. There was only one downside. When I climbed out of the water, after thinking of all the ways I wanted to ravish my hot girlfriend, I had a massive erection despite the cold water. That, plus the way my pants were clinging to me now made for an embarrassing walk to catch a cab.

As I walked, I made a decision. I was going to call Vincent and tell him he could deal with Alizee from here on out. For the rest of the trip, I didn't want to be anywhere near her. Well, I'd make the call after fucking Carrie senseless. That was my top priority.

Chapter 3

Carrie

I'd been pacing ever since I'd gotten back from the docks, unable to sit down or even stop. I couldn't get the image out of my head, no matter how hard I tried. And, believe me, I tried.

Every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was Alizee and Gavin locked in an embrace. Then I'd opened my eyes and all I could see was the same thing. I tried focusing on the problem at hand, how I would be able to see Gavin and pretend everything was normal. The thought of seeing him and not saying anything tied a knot in my throat. Was I a good enough actress to pull it off?

I heard the sound of a key card in the lock and knew my time was up. Whatever came next, there wouldn't be any going back. Either I'd lie to him or I'd go off and have to deal with the fallout.

When the door opened, I turned and, for a few blissful moments, forgot about what had happened earlier. Gavin was dripping on the carpet. Every inch of him was wet. His clothes clung to him, showing off every dip and curve of his body. His hair was a mess, plastered to his face in some places and lank in others. He was a mess.

But his eyes were heated and I recognized the way he was walking toward me, the purpose in his step.

I froze, torn between several choices. I could forget everything I'd seen, remind myself of everything Gavin and I had been through and trust him to tell me what I needed to know. I could accept his kiss and let things progress to where I knew we both wanted it to go. No matter how pissed I was, my body always responded to him.

I could stay silent, but hold on to my anger, pushing him away without reason or excuse. I would see questions and pain in his eyes, and ignore them. I'd wait until after Pierre's story was done or after we were back in the US to confront him.

Or, I could forget about all the consequences and have it out with him right here. Demand to know why he lied and what he'd been doing with Alizee. See if he lied again. I could tell him everything, how he'd been blinded by a pretty face.

Before I could decide, Gavin's hands were cupping my face and the shock of cold from his skin went through me. Then his lips came down on mine. I shivered at the chill in them and then again because of the heat that followed. His tongue pushed past my lips, twisting around my tongue and drawing it into his mouth. I moaned as he sucked on my tongue, sending a bolt of desire straight through me.

Had he done that to Alizee?

The thought was like a bucket of ice water, far colder than Gavin's skin.

The hands that had been clutching at his wet shirt now pushed him away. His mouth tore away from mine and I saw the surprise in his eyes as he took a step back. I shoved him harder, putting some force into it this time.

“What the hell, Carrie?” He stared at me.

The anger his kiss had chased away came back with a vengeance. I wanted to scream at him, tell him I didn't want him kissing me after he'd just been doing the same to Alizee. I wanted to yell at him for lying to me, accuse him of sneaking around behind my back.

Then I heard Pierre's voice in the back of my head, warning me what would happen if I told. I thought about all the people who would suffer if we were right about Alizee. If she was able to hide her operation because I couldn't put others above my personal life, I'd never forgive myself.

I went with the first excuse I could think of. “I feel like shit,” I snapped. “It hurts to sit or lay down because you spanked me yesterday.”

Gavin flinched, his eyes filling with hurt. It cut my heart, but I couldn't take it back, not without spilling everything. Besides, the anger inside me needed to go somewhere.

“My nipples hurt and I have a fucking hickey on my neck like I'm some high school slut whose boyfriend couldn't control himself.” I put my hand over the mark I hadn't bothered to use concealer on.

Even as I said it, I hated myself for lying. I loved that he'd claimed me, that he said I was his. True, my ass did sting and my nipples were chafing against my bra, but the sensations turned me on more than they hurt. They were reminders of last night and how Gavin had let himself go.

“Carrie?”

The expression on his face was one of shock and pain. The way he said my name almost made me break, but then I remembered what it had felt like when I'd seen him kissing Alizee.

“I just need some space.” I turned away before he could see the tears threatening to spill over. I was halfway to the room when I heard footsteps behind me. I turned, finally thinking to ask, “Why are you so wet?” But before I could ask the question, my phone rang.

I grabbed it out of my pocket, desperate for a distraction. I didn't even care if it was a sales call. I'd talk to anyone at the moment if it meant a few more minutes of not having to look at Gavin.

“Hello?” I answered without looking at the caller ID.

“Carrie?”

I instantly recognized Pierre's voice and a flare of annoyance went through me. Was he calling to check up on me?

“What?” I was definitely not in the mood to deal with him acting like I was some kid who needed to be handled.

“Did you tell him?”

“No. Now, what do you want?” As much as I hated to admit it, at least being pissed at him was a diversion, helping keep my mind off of the fact that I could feel Gavin's eyes on me.

“I have a file you need to see.” Pierre didn't seem too concerned with my attitude. “Do you want to meet tomorrow?”

I saw my out and took it. “Now's better.”

“Really?” Pierre sounded surprised, with a hint of amusement. “I had the impression you were quite cross with me.”

“That's one way to put it,” I said dryly. “But if it's that important to you, I'll come now.”

“Shall we meet at your hotel?”

“No,” I said. “The Jean Luc Pele La Table.” I named one of the smaller restaurants I'd seen in Cannes.

“I will be there shortly.”

I hung up the phone, took a shaky breath and turned to face Gavin again. One glance at his face, however, told me I wouldn’t be able to look at him. He was pale and his hands were clenched into fists.

“I have to go.”

“It's him, isn't it? That journalist.” Gavin's voice was hard. “You're going to see him again?”

My lips flattened. Funny… him acting like it was a big deal that I wanted to go meet Pierre when he'd been lip-locking with Alizee not more than an hour ago.

“Is that what this is about?” he asked as I started toward the door. I found the jealousy in his voice ironic. “You don’t want me to touch you because...” There was a pause, and then he continued. “Have you been... spending time with him?”

“While you were out with Vincent earlier?” I stressed the name as I opened the door. “There's an idea. Why don't you give your buddy a call? Maybe you can have another 'business meeting.'”

I slammed the door behind me as I stalked out into the hallway. I didn't run, but I hurried, afraid of what would happen if Gavin came after me. I wasn't sure I could handle going through that a second time. But I apparently shouldn't have worried. He didn't come after me. He let me go.

Chapter 4

Carrie

I walked to the restaurant, using the time to regain my composure. The day was just as bright and sunny as it had been earlier, but I wasn't in the mood to appreciate any of it. In fact, at the moment, I was thinking about how spring in the city might actually reflect my current mood better. I didn't like being angry and hurt while the sun was shining down from a bright blue sky. It made me feel petty.

Was I being petty?

I had to consider the question as I made my way down the street. Hadn't Gavin proven himself to me more than once? Shouldn't I give him the benefit of the doubt? When he'd shown up at the hotel, soaked to the skin, shouldn't that have been a clue that something was wrong? Why hadn't I asked him what had happened instead of lashing out at him?

Because, I realized, even after all of this, I was still insecure.

As I neared the restaurant, I pulled my curls up behind my head and twisted them into a knot that would keep them out of my face. I stopped, closed my eyes and took a slow, deep breath. Whatever Pierre wanted to show me had to be important for him to have asked to meet twice in the same day, especially since he didn't want Gavin getting suspicious about what we were doing. As much as this was tearing me up, what Pierre and I were doing was bigger than the relationship between Gavin and me.

I didn't see Pierre at any of the outside tables, so I walked into Jean Luc Pele La Table and looked around. He wasn't there yet, but I wasn't going to stand around looking like the tourist I was. I walked over to the display case and looked at my choices. The young man at the counter spoke better English than some Americans so I placed my order, then took my food outside and found an out of the way place to sit.

I spotted Pierre before he saw me. His expression was serious and I didn't see even a hint of that charming smile until his eyes met mine. Even then, it was a shadow of what it was the first time I'd seen it. That alone told me he had something important.

He didn't bother going into the restaurant itself, but rather came straight to me. As he approached, I saw that he was holding a manila envelope. My curiosity piqued, I leaned forward, my partially eaten sandwich forgotten. All of this shit with Gavin would be worth it if we could get something real against Alizee. If Pierre and I could find enough for him to write an article and me to present the evidence to the local authorities, Alizee would be exposed and Gavin would see her for who she was. Who knew how many hundreds, if not thousands, of people we'd save from horrible fates. The time and effort it would take to patch things up with Gavin wouldn't seem so awful if I helped accomplish all of that.

“Thank you for coming so quickly,” Pierre said as he slid into the seat next to me. His knee brushed against mine.

“You said you had something important to show me?” I started to scoot my chair to the side to put more distance between the two of us, then stopped. He wasn't flirting, so there was no need to establish boundaries. He was just sitting close so he could show me what he had without risking anyone else seeing.

“I have a... contact in the police,” Pierre began. “When I first began investigating Alizee, I asked for him to pass along any information he saw about Alizee or any of the property she owns.” He opened the envelope and pulled out two light tan folders. He handed them both to me without a word.

I hesitated, then took them. I was pretty sure I didn't want to see what was inside, but I opened the top one anyway.

And immediately regretted it.

I forced myself not to push it away. Doing the kind of work I'd done for the past year, I'd seen some pretty gruesome things, but it never got any easier. I had more than one person tell me that when it started getting easy, that's when it was time to get out. If this was the indication, then I was still good because the crime scene photo I was looking at made me regret having eaten.

“North Star,” Pierre said. “Or, that is the name she used at work. There is no record of a real identity.”

“Stripper?” I forced the word past the bile threatening to rise.

“At one of Alizee's clubs,” he confirmed. “And rumor says she was paid for more than taking off her clothes.”

“So she was a prostitute.” I made it a statement. I flipped through the pictures, each one showing another brutal angle to the crime.

He nodded. “Three prior arrests for solicitation.” He gestured toward the paper I was currently on. Her mug shot showed a once-pretty blonde who'd definitely lived a hard life. She looked decades older than her twenty-three years.

“The last page is the...” He frowned as he searched for the word. “Death report?”

“Autopsy report?” I asked as I turned to that page. He nodded, but I didn't need the confirmation. While it was written in French, I'd seen enough of these to recognize the similarities. I glanced at it and then looked to Pierre for translation.

“She was strangled,” he said. “But the other injuries happened when she was alive.”

I inhaled a slow, shaky breath. Whoever had done this had enjoyed it. I closed the first file and opened the second. Even though I was prepared this time, it didn't make things easier. Especially since half of the girl's face was missing. I managed to keep myself from being sick, but it was a close call.