The Little Antique Shop Under the Eiffel Tower (33 page)

Should I jump up and make my way out? I had no choice; I was in too deep. Surely, I could explain my way out of it, if the gendarmes burst in.

The buzzing noise increased. I could feel the vibration in my body, as I grew closer to it. The air behind me moved. I froze.

Before I could think, I was hoisted up roughly, a hand clamped across my mouth, smothering any cries. I kicked and squirmed trying to get loose but he was too powerful. A seasickness sensation washed over me as I lost my balance, being swung over his shoulder.

I bounced along feeling sick as he broke into a run, but jiggled and writhed trying to free myself.

“Will you stop fighting me?” he hissed.
Tristan!
But the power tool still screamed out in the distance. Ben and Jerry? I couldn’t see them as the hands-dirty type, but what did I know?

There was a creak as a door yawned open and Tristan plonked me unceremoniously onto the carpet, flicking on a light, blinding me momentarily. I shaded my eyes, and glared up at him.

“You are the thief!” I yelled.

He sat beside me, holding an earpiece, listening intently to whatever was being relayed. He didn’t look at me, just raised a finger to his lips, and mouthed, “Shhh.”

“I will not shush,” I yelled. “I’m not going to be an accomplice to your crime!”

He shot me a dark look that made me squirm but I wasn’t giving in. I’d come this far. “I’m going to scream so loud Madame Dupont will come running and with her the gendarmes!”

He clamped a hand over my mouth, and spoke quickly into a mouthpiece. “I have her, but she’s going to scream the place down. Grab him as soon as he gets through the aqueduct.”

The aqueduct!
Of course!
Paris was built on a bustling range of stone pipes that weren’t in use anymore. Where water once flowed stale air now stood. A complex maze underground that was perfect for a thief to use as an invisible entryway, and even better as an escape route. Tristan’s hand was still firm against my mouth, so I bit into the flesh of his palm, and tried to break loose. There was no way I was going to be caught sitting with the thief as though I was one of them.

“Ouch!” He pulled his hand back from the sting of the bite. “What did you do that for?”

“Fun!” I said. “Let me out of here!”

“Can you be quiet for one goddamn minute!” he hissed.

My ghost phone rang, startling me.

“Give it to me,” he said.

It was hidden in the bust of my dress. He looked from me, to my décolletage, and thought better of it. I grabbed it, and held it away from him, managing to press the speaker button.

“Help,” I muffled as Tristan lunged. His body landed on mine, stealing the breath from my lungs. With my free arm, I held the phone above me, and yelled as loud as I could hoping Madame Dupont would understand.

“It’s Dion. Are you there, Anouk?”

I broke away for a second. “OUI! Tristan…” But his hand came firmly back down silencing me once more.

“Yes, Tristan! I found his paper trail. He’s an undercover detective, working for the major crime squad in relation to the jewelry thefts!”

Tristan’s body lost the fight. I felt him go limp above me. He dropped his hand from my mouth. I took a lungful of precious air, and said, “WHAT! He’s what?”

“He’s a detective! He’s not the bad guy.” Dion enunciated slowly like I was a child.

Shock sent me rigid. I watched Tristan’s face twist angrily. “He’s not the bad guy?” I said, mind spiraling.

Tristan pulled himself up, and offered me his hand. I shook my head no and held the phone in front of me.

“Well then who’s the bad guy?” I asked Dion. There was so much to process, and with all the pummeling and grappling I found it hard to control my ragged breaths.

Dion’s laugh reverberated around the room. “They thought it was you!”

I gasped and sent a viperous look to Tristan who had the grace to blush. “Me? Why me?”

“You’ll have to ask him that.”

“Merci, Dion.”

I hung up the phone and got unsteadily to my feet. My ponytail had come undone in the scuffle. I tried in vain to pat it down, as I unscrambled my thoughts. They thought I was the jewel thief? A flood of anger coursed through me. Tristan was wooing me in order to catch me out? The irony floored me, and I boiled inside.

Eventually, I managed to compose myself and asked, “Is that true, Tristan? Did you think it was me?”

He ducked his head, just as there was a commotion outside. Yelling could be heard, as a scuffle broke out. The real thief was being hauled up, and handcuffed. The zip of the cuffs brought a smile to Tristan’s face. That goddamn phony.

Curiosity got the better of me. I peeked around the door, and saw them lead a man away with his hands firmly tied behind his back. Mon Dieu! I would have recognized that swagger anywhere. Still yelling at the gendarmes he managed to turn and shoot me a look full of hatred.

“Joshua? Why?”

He ignored me, but the look he gave me chilled me to the core. The gendarmes pushed him forward. “Walk, or we’ll make you walk.”

Not once did it ever cross my mind Joshua was capable of such a thing. I knew he was devious, with no morals, but I simply didn’t think he’d have the brains to pull off heists this big. I couldn’t trust any of them!

Tristan joined me by the door. “I’m sorry, Anouk, I really am. We thought it was you at first. But then I thought perhaps you were his accomplice. There were so many clues that pointed to you both. It was thought the breakup story and stolen piano was a farce and that you were still secretly working together.”

“It was thought by whom?” My bottom lip wobbled, and I took great pains to clamp my teeth on it so he didn’t see. How could he do this to me? Actively seek me out in order to put me in jail? Kiss me, and tell me lies, when he wasn’t who he said he was.

“We knew your business was in financial trouble. You had a motive. You were in Sorrento.” He rubbed his face, like he was exhausted. “Your bookshelves are filled with crime novels. The crimes were carried out exactly like the one described in
The Jewel Heist
– exactly. You tried to film me with a pen! We moved fast after that guessing you’d figured us out.”

“
You
bugged my apartment the night of your party at the Ritz!”

He shook his head “No, it was bugged a long time before that. We got you all there that night so Ben and Jerry could search your house without anyone stumbling on them. They thought the typewriter was hidden there, because of something Lilou had said in passing. It was a long shot, but we figured we’d finally get the opportunity to search without a soul there.”

“How did you manage to bug it months ago then if someone was always there?” As soon as the words left my mouth it dawned on me. “Henry is one of you!” That dodgy couch surfer! I knew he’d been rifling through my things searching for something. Evidence!

“He is.”

“You violated every facet of my life! My maman and my sister will be hurt!” My voice rose, and shamefully cracked. Everything was a lie. “Does Lilou know?”

“She doesn’t know for sure, but I think she’s had her suspicions from what we’ve heard on her phone calls.”

“This is too much, Tristan.” What would my poor sister think? It was a betrayal, no two ways about it. What kind of people pretend to date someone in a ruthless calculating way just to infiltrate their lives?

“Why did you steal my handbag on the Metro?”

“Didn’t you ever wonder how Joshua always knew where you’d be and what you were doing?”

God, this was like the plot of a spy movie…except it was real, and my feelings were beyond hurt. Both of the men I’d given my heart over to were manipulators. “So my handbag was bugged?”

“Yes, by him and then after the Metro ride by us. And then we figured with your big talk about a diamond to rival the Hope Diamond – that was clever by the way – that he’d take the bait. And he did. You actually helped us, you know.”

“And yet all along you wanted to put me in jail?”

“I could say the same for you, Anouk. You thought it was me the whole time too.”

My mouth fell open. “Well all the signs pointed to you. And you didn’t dissuade me, did you? I would have warned you! That’s the difference! You were ready to lock me up!”

“I wanted you to talk. Even when we knew it wasn’t you committing the robberies we thought you might have been a party to it. We knew he wasn’t doing them alone, and you kept saying all those dumb things. It was like you wanted to be caught!”

“Dumb things? I was trying to get
you
to talk!”

“I know, I know. I almost botched the entire case because of how I felt about you. My superior sent me back to America to cool down, with strict instructions not to kiss you ever again. They saw it all, and knew I’d gone too far. I wanted to tell you to run, but I was being watched too.”

I searched his face. His eyes filled with unease.

People had been spying on us the entire time? “But…you didn’t tell me to run.”

“It’s my job to catch criminals. And we have him now. I thought you’d be happy, Anouk. Now your antiques will stay in France, just like you wanted. We have the Cartier jewels. It looks as though they were too hot to sell, too well-known. We have faith we’ll get the other items back too.”

“Am I free to go?” I said, hating myself for the break in my voice. I was overwhelmed and wanted to flee. Maybe I should have been happy Tristan wasn’t the bad guy, but I felt violated: my apartment bugged and searched, my sister was also caught up in a faux romance. Not to mention me. I had feelings for Tristan and once again it was all an act. While he might have been masquerading as the good guy, he was breaking a heart too. Had these people no decency? They’d swarm in, set traps, and leave, never mind the destruction they caused.

“You can go, but I thought we could…”

“No, Tristan, I just want to go home. Though home isn’t the sanctuary it once was, is it?”

In my heart I knew Tristan was only doing his job, but I couldn’t shake the feeling my entire life had been on show for a roomful of investigators. It felt like the worst kind of treachery.

Before I left, I turned to him. “I want the bugs, and whatever else you’ve put in my home removed.”

He nodded, his face a mask of professionalism once more, like he’d flicked the switch and was wrapping up this job, and ready to move on to the next. “Sure. I’ll have them do it right now.”

Numbly, I got into the car, and stared straight ahead. Madame didn’t say a word, sensing my need for silence. At my apartment, she patted my knee. “Dion told me,” she finally said. “It’s quite a shock, Anouk. But in time I think you’ll see sense. He
was
doing the right thing.”

I swallowed a lump in my throat. “But, Madame, it was all a lie, just like it was with Joshua. Once again I was a pawn, used by a man to get ahead. Now it makes sense why he was always right there when trouble found me. He was following me the whole time. To get enough evidence to arrest me!”

“For what it’s worth, I think he must have real feelings for you. Dion told me Tristan was sent to America as punishment for almost ruining the investigation because he got too close to you.”

“Yeah, he probably wasn’t supposed to kiss the main suspect,” I said bitterly. Rage flowed through me, as I remembered that our private conversations, which had never been private, were listened to by a roomful of gendarmes.

“You need to have a long, hard think about it all, Anouk. Things will look brighter in the morning; they always do.”

Holding myself together stiffly, I nodded, unable to find the energy to disagree.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

It might have been deemed macabre, but when I wanted time alone I visited Père-Lachaise cemetery. As far as resting places go, it was verdant and lush, with well-maintained gardens, and immaculate lawns and walkways. I couldn’t resist being in a place where I might stumble upon the ghosts of times gone by.

On a bench seat, looking down the hilly vista, I pondered the last few weeks. As Madame predicted, things didn’t seem as bad, but I was still hurt by Tristan’s duplicity, and my trust, whatever little shell there’d been left, was completely shattered.

So many questions buzzed through me, but I wasn’t answering his phone calls to ask them. Was his entire background a fabrication? It must’ve been. And there I’d been starry-eyed soaking up every word. The confrontation he had with Joshua at our first meeting must have been planned. The Saint-Tropez kiss – planned. Were they all laughing behind their hands at me?
Look at her fall for the bait, and as easily as that!

Lilou had accepted the fact she was dating an undercover investigator gracefully. They’d stayed friends, and there were no hard feelings on her part. Instead, she was endlessly fascinated and grilled Henry on his technique, how he found her and what ensued. I was privy to their conversation as he packed his belongings and left my apartment, Lilou waving him cheerily off. When I asked her later if she felt used, she reeled back in surprise and said, “No, I feel important! Without me, they wouldn’t have caught Joshua as quickly. And I’ll always have a soft spot for Henry. We’ll still see each other when he’s in Paris. It’s not the end, but we’re both busy with other things to settle right now.”

My jaw had practically hit the floor with surprise. She’d been so
calm
about it all. The man chose her because she was my sister and it was a way into my apartment to spy on me! But Lilou didn’t seem to mind, spouting the old adage, “All’s fair in love and war,” and flounced away, humming.

Maybe I was the odd one out. Even Maman tried to make me see reason. Harped on about how Tristan was categorically saving the world one antique at a time. But I had refused to listen. Hence my many forays to Père-Lachaise in the sticky heat of the day to be alone, except for whichever ghost chose to sit next to me.

The days were endless as summer moved in for the duration. I was considering an extended holiday, maybe to hide my face for a while, but I’d been told by investigators not to leave France, as there’d be a trial for Joshua, and I’d be part of it. I’d have to see them all again – I had no choice in the matter, and that irked me. Once again, other men deciding my fate. At least this time Joshua would be punished accordingly.