It had been a long time since her training days, but she was pretty sure you were supposed to shake a tail, not turn around and chat with him.
“Better here than in Paris,” Olivia pointed out. “There’s no reason to lead him straight to the hotel.”
Marielle blew out a breath. She had a point. “D’accord. Okay. You take the lead.”
Olivia nodded.
When they reached the train station, the man was out of his taxi before they’d even paid their fare. He waited for them to exit, then followed them across the brick concourse to the main entrance of the modern glass station, keeping his distance but never letting them out of sight as they weaved between pedestrians going in all directions.
Just before they reached the doors, Olivia murmured, “I’m done playing with this guy. At the last minute, peel off and take the door to the left. I’ll go right and lead him to the hallway outside the ladies’ room. You circle back.”
“Liv—”
“You’ve got this, Elle.”
She wasn’t so sure, but she took a shaky breath and got ready. Just as Olivia walked through the rightmost entrance, Marielle slid to the left and hurried away from Olivia.
The man hesitated for a fraction of a second, then followed Olivia through the entrance.
Marielle doubled back, moving quickly through the crush of travelers. She emerged from a crowd in time to see Olivia leading the man down a quieter hallway.
She followed at a distance, closing the gap as Olivia drew close to the ladies’ room door at the end of the hall.
Olivia drew her weapon and spun around to face the man in one fluid motion.
“Who sent you?” she demanded.
The man’s hands went up. “Please. I am not armed. I was told only to watch.”
He glanced behind him, looking for an escape, but found Marielle, her gun also drawn, her legs planted in a firing stance. She recognized him.
“He’s one of Idris’s bodyguards.”
“Yes, yes,” he confirmed this fact eagerly, as if it might help him. “Mr. Mahmoud hoped you would lead me to the girl.”
“What girl?”
“His girl.”
“Hanna Ayari is a woman,” Marielle said firmly.
“And what were you supposed to do if we did lead you to her?” Olivia asked.
“Return what belongs to him.”
“Hanna doesn’t belong to anyone,” Marielle said, stepping closer.
The man twisted away from Olivia to meet Marielle’s gaze. The fear in his eyes wasn’t fear of them. It was fear of what would happen to him when Idris learned that he’d failed to find Hanna.
Olivia lowered her weapon but didn’t holster it. “Walk away. And tell your boss if we see you or anyone else following us, we won’t be so polite next time.”
The man nodded and backed away slowly until he drew even with Marielle. Then he turned, race-walked down the hallway, and melted into the crowd in the main hall.
Marielle returned her gun to its holster and shook out her hands, breathing too fast. “That was too easy.”
“I know. He wanted us to see him.”
“Why?”
