Locked Out
Flicka von Hannover
He took everything.
Without her waitressing job, they needed money.
“Pierre obviously knows we’re somewhere in Las Vegas,” Flicka argued the next day. “I can transfer some money from my trust funds.”
They were sitting in the living room while Alina toddled around, talking to some of the toys she had dug out of the chest. They’d drawnthe sheer curtains over all the windows and flapped shut the vertical blinds over the sliding glass door. The foggy, dim light in the living room reminded Flicka of cool London evenings, walking on the bank of the Thames River.
“He might not know the names on the passports we used.” Dieter clasped his hands between his knees, leaning on his forearms. “He hasn’t shown up here, which suggests thathe hasn’t made the connection. Our bank accounts here are in the Mirabaud names. Transferring money from your von Hannover trust fund to an account in the name of Gretchen Mirabaud would be a bright line that Pierre and his Secret Service could surely follow.”
“He might not notice.”
“It’s why I haven’t transferred any money from Rogue Security to our account. He might be watching. His SecretService might be able to trace it if they have a warrant, and Pierre can have a Monaco court issue any warrant he wants.”
“If I transfer the money, we wouldn’t have to work.”
“If that were the goal, I could arrange to move us to a secure compound for the duration. Rogue Security would provide protection.”
“I don’t want to be cooped up in a fortress, unable to get out.”
“I know,” he said, “butit’s the safest course of action.”
“I don’t care. I don’t want to be a prisoner.”
“I know,” Dieter said, more gently.
“Pierre wants to lock me up. Pierre wants me to be a prisoner.”
“Yes.”
“I won’t.I won’t.”
“Flicka, I won’t let him.”
His hand twitched like he had almost reached over to take her hand, and she recoiled. “I don’t want to be a prisoneranywhere.”
“I know.”
“But if I candump some money in our checking account, we won’t have to worry about the court costs and filing fees. If we don’t have the money,we can’t file the divorce papers.”
“We’ll get the money. We’ll get the money even if I have to ask Blaise to wire it to me.”
“Pierre would see that, just like last time.”
“Probably, yeah.”
“But maybe he isn’t watching my trust fund. Maybe I can move the money.”
“Flicka, I think it’s a bad idea.”
“I want to try.”
He sighed. “All right, but don’t do it from the house. Let’s drive somewhere and try it.”
The next day, they piled into a car service, taking the extra few minutes to clip Alina’s car seat in, and were driven to a coffee shop across the city.
