The French Detective's Woman (28 page)

“It’s true,” Beck said with smarmy false civility. “Next time it could even be you...”

Ciara gripped the door jamb so hard her fingernails dug gouges into the wood. “Let him try, the coward!” she spat out, and felt Davie’s restraining arm come around her shoulder. “See what happens to him if he does!”

“Taking the law into your own hands is no solution,” the first officer said with a frown. “The best thing your friend can do is help put this animal behind bars.”

“Thank you, officer. We’ll think about it.”

He nodded and, disappointed, went to leave. Beck waited until after he’d started back down the stairs, then turned to Ciara.

“Hope you liked my welcome home present, bitch,” he hissed under his breath. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this day.”

“Get out of my sight, Beck, before I really do kill you,” she warned. Davie grabbed her arm before she could take a swing at him.

“You don’t want to do that,” the bastard returned with a menacing chuckle. “In fact, the only thing you’ll want to do is exactly as I say.”

“You’re completely delusional if you think—”

“Or things could go badly for your lover-boy.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I just had you locked up for eighteen months without anyone being the wiser. What do you think I could do to your precious
commissaire
’s career? Think
he’d
have a good time in prison? With all those felons he’s put in there for company? Good looking guy, your Lacroix...”

She went for Beck’s throat. But got all tangled up in Davie and CoCo. Behind her she heard Hugo curse at Ricardo and furniture go flying.

“I want more money,” Beck growled. “Or you can kiss his pretty ass goodbye. Another ten thousand by the end of the month. And
get him off my back
. If he comes around me one more time, he’ll be wearing stripes.” Beck leaned in, baring his teeth. “And dare breathe a word—
to anyone
—and he’ll be a dead man.” With that, the little shit slithered away and down the stairs.

“Goddamn it, Beck! You won’t get away with this!” she screamed after him.

His parting laughter echoed up the stairwell, followed by the front entry door slamming.

It sounded eerily like prison bars clanging shut.

“God damn you,” she screamed as Davie and CoCo forcibly hauled her inside. “God fucking
damn
you!”

Hugo finally managed to wrestle free of Ricardo and came lunging toward the door. “Let me at him!”

“No!” Davie said, barring his way. “
No
. Sofie’s hurt and we just got Ciara back. We’re not losing you, too.
Either
of you.”

“But you heard him! He
raped Sofie
, and threatened to do it to Ciara! Are we just going to stand here and take it?”

They all looked to her for direction. But her mind refused to function. She was still back at the part about Jean-Marc being a dead man. She put a shaking hand to her mouth.

Beck meant what he’d said. She had no doubt about it.

“Oh, God,” she moaned, seeing every one of her hopes and dreams evaporate before her eyes.

All that time in prison for nothing! A clean slate? Ha. Just another impossible fantasy, as always. Beck would never let her stop stealing.
Never
.

“Oh, God. Jean-Marc...” she whispered in despair. “What in God’s name am I going to do?”

♥♥♥

An hour later, Jean-Marc climbed the stairs to the Orphans’ apartment in a foul mood.

After dropping off Ciara at the hospital, he’d chased down Louis Beck at his
préfecture
and questioned him about his whereabouts earlier that morning. It was perfectly obvious to Jean-Marc that Beck knew exactly what his questions were in reference to, even though Jean-Marc was very careful not to make any direct accusations. To make any charges stick, he needed proof. Beck blithely told Jean-Marc that he’d been at the station all morning doing paperwork, and any one of his colleagues would back him up. Unfortunately, they did. Every one Jean-Marc could find.

He came away with worse than nothing. Sofie’s rapist had a solid alibi and there was nothing he would ever be able to do to crack it.

Today he was ashamed to be a cop, and didn’t know how he’d face Ciara.

The apartment door opened, and there she stood. Looking shell-shocked and...he could swear, nervous.

His bad mood and the terrible situation couldn’t quite overpower his somber pleasure at seeing her. “
Mon ange
,” he murmured, and pulled her into his embrace, even more furious with Beck for spoiling their reunion in this awful way, on top of his horrific cruelty. He kissed her hair. “I’m sorry. Beck wouldn’t admit anything, and somehow he’s gotten his whole squad to say he was at the police station all morning. There was nothing I could do.”

“It’s not your fault, Jean-Marc.” She stepped back and held him at arm’s length. “I’m sure you did your best.” She looked down at the floor and fell silent.

He glanced around the room. CoCo, Davie and Ricardo were also looking anywhere but at him. Even Hugo, who had become his staunchest supporter in the bunch, was gazing determinedly out the window. Suddenly, Jean-Marc became uneasy.

“What’s going on?” he asked sharply.

“Nothing,” Ciara said, giving him an unconvincingly weak smile.

“Then give me a kiss.” The Orphans wouldn’t be shocked. It was pretty clear they knew where Ciara had spent last night.

The blood drained from her face. “Jean-Marc, um...”

“Something wrong?” he asked mildly, but his pulse had already started to pound.
Something was definitely wrong
. He gripped her arms to keep her from slipping away from him.

“Of course not,” she said. And kissed him. A pathetic attempt. Short, dry and self-conscious.

“
Alors
,” he said, temper rising. So that’s how it was to be. He turned to leave before hurt could trump his anger.

“Jean-Marc,” she said, grabbing his hand. She dropped it again. Then turned and swiped up her purse. “Let’s go somewhere and have a drink. We need to talk.”

That clinched it. In the movies, whenever a woman said “we need to talk,” the man was about to eat shit.

Confusion swirled through his chest. What had happened to the affectionate, adoring lover who had shared his bed last night? He didn’t understand. True, they hadn’t spoken of the future, but...he’d taken it for granted they had one.

They’d only reached the third floor landing on their way down the stairs, but Jean-Marc couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled her to a stop.

“
Non
,” he said. “I don’t want a fucking drink. We can do this right here and now.” He set his mouth in a thin line and regarded her. “What the hell is going on, Ciara?”

“Here?” She glanced around at the apartment doors in consternation. “But people can—”

“
Now
, Ciara.” He wasn’t waiting another goddamn minute to hear the bad news. “You dumping me, baby? Is that it?”

“Jean-Marc, this isn’t the place—”

“I knew it! Why?” he demanded. “Last night—”

“Last night was amazing,” she interrupted, keeping her voice low. “Utterly amazing,” she said, finally meeting his gaze— “I...I wish...” —but it slid away again. “God, Jean-Marc, this is happening too fast!” Her hands went up to hold her temples. “
We
are happening too fast. And now this thing with Sofie.” Ciara’s green eyes appealed to him.
Lied to him
. “She needs me, Jean-Marc. Beck isn’t going to leave her alone, and I don’t want you involved.”

“Why not? I can—”

“No!” she said vehemently. Too vehemently. “No. Really. You said it yourself—he has an unbreakable alibi, and they found no physical evidence at all. Accusing him will only get you in trouble.”

“The man’s a slimeball. He needs to be stopped.”

“I agree, but— I can’t think about that now. I can’t think about
us
now. Sofie’s so fragile. She needs me. Do you understand?”

“
Non
,” he growled. He didn’t understand anything. His lover was giving him the brush-off and he had no idea why. Fuck Beck. And Sofie could share. “
I
need you, Ciara.”

Her face fell and she looked like she would cry. Good. He was not feeling charitable at the moment. He was feeling selfish and slighted and once again betrayed.

“
Mon amour
,” she murmured, and put her arms around him. He held himself cold and stiff. He didn’t need her pity. Didn’t want her lousy excuses. But when she whispered, “I love you, Jean-Marc,” he couldn’t help himself.

He pulled her into a tight embrace. “You have a fucking strange way of showing it,
chérie
.”

“I just need some time. To sort things out. I’m not leaving you. Just...until Sofie is better, and I decide what to do with my life.”

Something about the way she said that last part struck a chord of panic in his gut. Surely, she wasn’t considering going back to her old ways? “You don’t need to do anything with your life other than love me,” he said quickly. “I got my lucky break when I was fifteen. It’s about time you got yours, Ciara. I want to take care of you. Don’t go back to the past,
mon ange
. Move in with me and we can have a future. Please, let me take care of you.”

She nuzzled her face deep into the crook of his throat and sighed. She didn’t say anything for a long time, and when she finally did, he tipped her chin up and saw tears shining in her eyes.

“I can’t,” was all she said. “I’m sorry.” Then she slid from his embrace, looked at him one last time, turned and fled up the stairs.

Moments later, the apartment door slammed above his head.

And she was gone from his life.

Chapter 23

“Lacroix is watching us. He’s having me tailed!” CoCo declared, flouncing into the apartment one afternoon several days later. She flung her purse onto the sofa next to Davie as he and Ciara glanced up from the map they were studying on the coffee table. “Yesterday I caught him lurking about in his Saab,” CoCo continued, “just down the street. He didn’t even try to hide his face. It was definitely Jean-Marc.”

“Yes, I’ve seen him too,” Ciara said, worried by his cool persistence. Over the past few days, with Valois’s help, she and the Orphans had decided on one last, big laydown. It was huge, complicated, and would take extremely careful planning to pull off. But it would settle their business with Beck once and for all. It was that big.

However, she hadn’t counted on Jean-Marc keeping tabs on them day and night. What was he up to?

And what if Beck found out about him?

“Then today,” CoCo continued, “guess who I just happened to run into on La Mouffe at the vegetable market? Why, none other than that sexy partner of his,
Lieutenant
Rousselot. Bought me a coffee at
Le Verre à Pied
, he did. As if I couldn’t see through that ploy. Tried to pump me for information!”

“Is that all he tried to pump?” Davie asked, his brow raised over CoCo’s uncharacteristic girlish flutter while speaking of Pierre.

CoCo sputtered in indignation, but Ciara tipped her head and looked at her consideringly. “What information?” she asked.

CoCo made a rude gesture at Davie, who chuckled while she answered, “About you, Ciara,
naturellement
. Jean-Marc is afraid
le Revenant
is about to make a comeback.”

Ciara froze in consternation. “What did you tell Pierre?”

“That it’s all nonsense, of course. That you’ve learned your lesson and would never, ever do anything illegal again.”

“Good,” she said with relief. “Keep telling him that.”

This time both of Davie’s brows went up. CoCo also looked startled. “
Keep
telling him?” they said in unison.

Ciara pursed her lips. “Time honored tradition with
le flic
. Divide and conquer. I shouldn’t be surprised, the way I hurt his pride.”

They both frowned. “Eh?”

“Jean-Marc. He’s using Pierre to recruit you. To spy on me.”

CoCo gasped. “I would never—”

“You like Pierre, don’t you?” Ciara pressed. “You think he’s handsome...sexy...”

“The man’s a pig!” CoCo stated emphatically. “A big, fat ugly swine!”

Ciara smiled. “I thought so. Next time you
accidentally
run into him, let him invite you to dinner.”

CoCo blinked. Perked up. “Really? You wouldn’t mind?”

Ciara shook her head, an idea growing. “Let Jean-Marc have his spy.”

“Oh, but my lips will be sealed! I swear—”

“No, you should tell Pierre exactly what we’re doing. Not right away, you understand, but eventually... I’ll tell you when to break down. But first you must make him pay dearly for the information. Take your time. Wrestle with your conscience. Otherwise Jean-Marc will know we’re on to him. He has to think Pierre’s dragging it out of you against your will.”

“Hey! Who’s dragging my little sister against her will?” Hugo asked, coming in from the kitchen eating an apple.

“
Lieutenant
Rousselot,” CoCo said coyly. “I’m to be his Mata Hari.”

“Who?” Hugo scowled at Ciara. “You’re selling my sister to a
flic
?”

Ciara grinned. “Don’t worry, Hugo. The lieutenant will survive unscathed.” She and Davie shared a wry glance at CoCo. “Well,” she amended. “Probably.”

She just hoped this was the right decision. It was risky. Jean-Marc and Pierre were smart. Very smart.

And if things didn’t go according to plan,
she
was the one who might not survive. She...and Jean-Marc.

♥♥♥

Ciara was up to something. Jean-Marc could feel it in his bones. Every cop instinct in his body screamed that she was not the innocent she pretended to be, spending her days caring for Sofie and slowly easing back into civilian life after prison.

She didn’t move into her own place, didn’t get a job. When she left the Orphans’ apartment at all, she went to the shops, took quiet, arm-in-arm walks along the Seine with Sofie, sat in the afternoon sunshine on a bench in front of the Pompidou Center feeding the pigeons, reading and chatting to an old man who wandered by.