Next to Me (24 page)

“It’s more than that. When he asked me about the coin, even after his speech about how he tried to be on the straight and narrow, and how Dellinger can’t get his hands on the Nickel because then he wouldn’t need my father anymore, he asked me if I had the Nickel with me. He said ‘Did you bring it with you?’ He wasn’t concerned about the safety of the coin. He wanted to know where it was, if I had it on me. He offered to
take it off my hands
. He
needs
the coin,” I explain.

“Do you think he’s already made a deal with Dellinger? Maybe he’s told him if
he
finds the coin he wants  more money, and that’s the payout he was talking about. If Dellinger gets the coin from you, your dad won’t get the payment he’s counting on. Seeing you here, maybe he realized this was his chance to get it. I mean, it’s not like he could show up in Chicago and ask

you for it,” Landon suggests.

“That’s a possibility.” I sigh, feeling the weight of everything and having no idea how to relieve any of it. “I don’t know what to do. Despite the lies and deception, he’s still my father. I can only imagine what Dellinger would do if he knew Dad had been stringing him along all this time. I mean, Dellinger has used my father to collect hundreds of other pieces for him, but he has been psychotic about finding
this
coin.

“Part of me wants to just give the coin to my father and let him decide what to do with it. It’s not like I’m going to have anything else to do with him. But the other side of me wants to give the coin to Dellinger and know that my father will pay for what he did to me and my mother.” It’s not like giving the coin to Dellinger would free me from him now that he’s found me, especially since Dad may face a real execution once Dellinger knows how my father deceived him. But, maybe it would buy me some time in between getting back to Chicago and determining when I would need to leave town. “Maybe I should get them together and threaten to split the coin down the middle. Then we’d find out who values it more. Better yet, I wish I had two coins. I would give one to each of them and let them figure out what to do.”

“If you mean that, not the splitting the coin part, but the two coins…I have an idea.” Landon puts his coffee cup down and pushes himself away from the small café table where we’ve been enjoying our breakfast on the balcony. Circumstances being what they are, it’s sad that I can’t relish the fact that I’m eating breakfast on a balcony of the Shangri La Hotel in Paris in the shadow of the Eifel Tower.

“What’s your idea?” I ask him with a wary eye.

“I actually thought of this last night when you showed me the coin. I, well, I know a guy. Actually, he’s the reason Dellinger found me. Christie’s hired me to find an art forger and Dellinger has a Christie’s Frequent Buyer’s Card. Anyway, Christie’s sold a Van Gough and a Monet belonging to this guy, " Landon tells me, using air quotes with the each artist’s name. “He got almost a half a million for each. He would have gotten away with it if the woman who bought the Monet hadn’t had a friend challenge its authenticity. Turned out the friend had recently acquired the same painting in London earlier that year. Both pieces had to be evaluated again, so it took a while to get to the point where they needed me. From what I understand, the appraiser had a hell of a time deciding which one was real. Christie’s doesn’t like to involve the authorities if they don’t have to. It makes them look bad if they can’t spot a fake.

“When I found the guy in Germany, we kind of hit it off, so we struck up a deal. I would tell Christie’s that someone else he crossed must have gotten to him first because I found him in the morgue, and the guy would owe me as many favors as I needed from him. He’s very good at what he does and I thought I might need him to forge some documents of identification for me when I found my mom.” I can see it still pains Landon to even mention his mother. It must be so difficult to have been searching for her for so long and have every overturned rock come up empty.

“So what are you suggesting?” I ask.

“You want two coins? Let’s make two coins.”

“I don’t know, Landon. I was just talking. It sounds risky. What if they can tell it’s a fake?” I’m already nervous about what Dellinger is capable of. If we give him the fake and he finds out, I don’t know what he’ll do.

“He is
very
good at what he does,” Landon says with confidence.

“And he can do coins?”

“He can do anything.”

“Well…I guess it’s worth a shot,” I say. “Where is he? Is he in Paris?”

“He’s in Versailles, about 40 minutes from here by train. If we leave now, we can be there within the hour.” Landon stands, a man on a mission.

“Ok. Let me grab a shower first, though,” I begin.

“We really don’t have time. I don’t know how long it will take him to make the coin, so we need to get there as soon as possible. We still have to get you a dress for tonight and be ready when the car picks us up at seven,” Landon interjects.

“I’m not going tonight, Landon,” I say flatly. I can’t believe he would even remotely suggest I go through with this.

“You have to go. Dellinger got you on this guest list. You’re going to have to make contact with the Ambassador to prove that you were there,” he tells me.

“But Dellinger probably suspects that I have the coin already,” I reply. “What difference does it make?”

“He probably does. But we don’t know that for sure. So, if there’s even the slightest chance that Dellinger thinks the Ambassador has the coin, you have to go tonight and make contact with him so Dellinger knows you were there. You can’t act like you’re on to anything they may be doing. Not Dellinger. Not your father.” Landon has joined me on my side of the table, crouching down next to me so we’re eye-level with each other. He puts his hand on my knee and the warm feeling that his touch brings courses through me.

“I hadn’t thought of that.” I cover Landon’s hand on my knee with mine and lean my forehead against his for a moment before he pulls me to stand with him.

“Out of curiosity…why didn’t you just use the coin as leverage when Dellinger cornered us in Chicago? You could have played that card and made a deal with him.”

“After what I thought he had done to my family, I never wanted him to have it. I still don’t, but, now that I know it wasn’t all him, that my father willingly participated in Dellinger’s schemes, I’m not quite as adamant about it. I’d happily throw it in Lake Michigan if I could.”

Landon nods, understanding what I’m saying, and doesn’t add anything to it. I throw my hair into a messy bun on my head and put on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Slinging my purse over my body, Landon and I walk out the

door in less than 15 minutes and are on the train to Versailles in 25.

“How do you know he’s going to be around when we get there?” I ask Landon about the mystery art forger whose hands I am placing the success of this plan in.

“He owns a small antique store. Well, he doesn’t own it. The woman who took him in when he was a teenager owned it. He runs it now that she’s dead.  He’ll be there,” he answers.

Landon holds my hand the entire train ride to Versailles and I take the time to pretend that this is just a lovely vacation for the two of us. The ride is beautiful and it’s the first time I’ve been able to really enjoy the beauty of France.

We walk the few blocks from the train station to the antique store and I stop Landon before we walk in.

“I’m nervous about this,” I tell him. “Not nervous. I’m scared. I’m scared about this whole thing, Landon.”

“Good. It’s the first time you’ve been really honest with me about your feelings. Now that you’re being real, I can protect you without arguing with you.” Landon kisses me quickly and then holds my gaze with his beautiful brown eyes. “Trust me.”

I nod, making a conscious decision to trust him. I don’t know that I have any other options at this moment. At one point I considered emptying my bank account from here in France and finding someone who could do for me what Oz did in setting up a new identity, but I couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing Spring or Mercy again. I want to leave them some kind of note before I disappear, however deceptive it may be. That was also the thought process that brought me to the conclusion that I would wait until Demi had her baby before I disappeared. I promised I would be there for her. I already let her down by taking off to Paris when she wanted me there when she told Jack. I can’t leave before I hold her hand in the delivery room and watch her bring her little baby into the world.

A bell at the top of the door rings as Landon pushes it open. It’s a small store filled with things that would fetch far more in the States than what they’re being sold for here. I scan the shelves and tables wondering what kind of rich history some of these items have. Then it dawns on me that there are probably several reproductions of expensive pieces in here that this mystery man has made himself to fool buyers. I sure hope Landon knows what he’s doing.

“Je suis à vous dans un instant,” a man’s voice calls.

“We don’t have a moment,” Landon calls back having understood the French phrase.

A man who looks to be around our age and of average height, definitely shorter than Landon, appears from behind a curtain that separates the front of the store from the back room. He’s wearing jeans and a white dress shirt with the sleeves haphazardly rolled up and an open brown vest. His bronze hair is shaggy and he’s wearing wire glasses like John Lennon.

“Holy shit! It’s Landon Scott! How the hell are ya, man?” The familiarity between the two is a little surprising. Landon said they had hit it off, but I didn’t have the idea that they were this friendly.

“Hey Jace! You stayin’ out of trouble?” Landon asks as they give each other a firm handshake.

“Never! Who’s your lady friend?” he asks enthusiastically.

“Jace, this is Jenna. Jenna, this is Jace.” Landon motions between the two of us and I extend my hand to shake his.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I say.

“Likewise. What brings you guys to Versailles? Honeymooning in Paris maybe?” Jace raises his eyebrows as a teasingly hopeful gesture.

“No…not yet,” Landon smirks. There it is. That smirk. With all the intensity we’ve faced over the last several days, I didn’t realize how much I missed that sexy smirk of his. “I’m actually here to call in a favor.”

“Absolutely. What can I do for you?” Jace doesn’t hesitate in agreeing to

do whatever it is Landon is going to ask. Landon must have gotten him out of some hotter than hot water for him to be so agreeable.

“I need a replica of a coin.” Landon looks at me and nods so I pull the coin from my purse and show it to Jace.

“No fucking way! This is a 1913 V Nickel!” he says with amazement. “Where did you get this?” he asks me.

“Where I got it isn’t important. Can you make a replica of it?” I say.

“This isn’t your average collectable. This is some serious shit here.” Jace inspects the coin, turning it over in his hand several times before pulling over a large magnifying glass with a light around it and examining it there. “Oh, man! This is the real deal.”

“We need a copy of it. Can you do it?” Landon asks, reiterating my question as Jace keeps his eyes on the coin.

“Can I do it? That is the most insulting thing you’ve ever said to me. Of course I can do it.” Jace sets the Nickel on the top of the counter and I immediately pick it up. I don’t want any sleight of hand going on. Give me a few hours. I have to make the mold, pour the metal, let it cool, and make sure it looks like it’s 100 years old.”

“Why don’t we go find a dress for you while Jace works on this?” Landon suggests.

“No.”

“No?”

“No. I’m not letting that coin out of my sight. It’s the only card I have left to play and I don’t trust Jace not to take advantage of the situation and leave us holding a fake…no offense,” I say.

“None taken. I wouldn’t trust me either,” Jace says. “Stick around while I make the molds and then take the coin with you while I work on the copy.”

“I can live with that.” I say.

“Great. Wait until you see how this works,” Jace begins. “Years ago I had some Spanish medallions I was copying and…”

“We’re short on time here, Jace,” Landon says cutting him off.

“Right. Come into my work room.” We follow Jace behind the curtain and into an office space. I look at Landon with curiosity, my brow furrowing with confusion. There are no doors to another space, and I don’t see anything in this office that looks like it could be used in any way to create a mold or melt metal. Landon just smirks and nods his head, gesturing at Jace. With a smile of his own, Jace pulls the back of a large bookshelf toward him like a door, revealing a hidden passage.

“Really?” I say in astonishment.

“Oh, yeah.” Jace winks at me and Landon pushes him through the entry way. “You’d be hard pressed to find a building or home around here that doesn’t have a least one secret passage. They had some serious wars roll through this part of the world you know.”

“No need for the history lesson, Jace,” Landon says firmly.

This is more like it. We enter a room that looks like a cross between a mad scientist’s lab and a great artist’s studio. One side of the room has Bunsen burners, glass jars like the kind from my 11
^th
grade chemistry class, protective glasses, and gloves, among other sciencey-looking tools. The other side has two easels, paints, smocks, and jars full of brushes.