“They should be here soon.”
“Good.”God, let it be soon enough to save Henri.
“I need you to do something for me.”Ford’s voice became stern.“Noargument.We don’t have much time.”
Her back stiffened.“What?”She sniffed and blinked hard, trying to get the waterworks under control.
“I want you to take the Renault, and drive back toward town.”He nodded his head toward the street where he’d left the little hatchback.“There’s a busy shopping center with a Carrefour—it’s a grocery store—between the traffic circle and the highway.You won’t stand out if you park there.I’ll deal with the police and meet up with you as soon as I can.”
“But…” So much could go wrong.What if they arrested him again?What if some—
“Natalie.”
She jolted and met his pale blue gaze.
“If they find you here, there are too many questions we don’t want to answer.”Ford gently moved her hand away from Henri’s stomach and replaced it with his own.“I don’t think the dispatcher heard your voice, so they shouldn’t be looking for you.The police will probably dust for fingerprints and figure out you were here at some point, but I don’t want you here when they arrive.”
He nodded toward the cell phone on the floor.“Keep this turned off, but if I’m not there by—” he glanced at the little alarm clock on the bedside table “—seven o’clock, call the contact in this phone and tell her you need somewhere safe to stay.”
He wanted her to leave him.And Henri.
But he was right.If the police found her here she’d have to come clean, and that would expose her before she was ready.
Leaving them behind felt ten kinds of wrong, but hadn’t she made almost the same argument to Emma and Jason just weeks ago?Now she understood why they’d been so reluctant to leave her behind.
The key difference was that Henri wouldn’t be alone.
The faint wail of sirens heralded the first responders’ approach.
“Please, Nat.”Ford said, his voice strained, face taut.“You need to leave.Now.”
CHAPTER TEN
TEN MINUTES AFTER watching Natalie flee the scene, Ford followed the paramedics down the stairs from Henri’s room to meet with the police.His stomach bottomed out at the sight of a furry black foot sticking out past the kitchen cupboards.
Ignoring the man and woman in uniform waiting inside the doorway, he rushed over and crouched beside Blitz, who lay sprawled on her side on the tile.“Hey, girl,” he whispered.Throat tight, he gently placed a hand on her ribs.Her heart beat steadily beneath his palm, and her chest rose and fell faintly.
Thank God.He let out a shuddering breath of his own, his hand shaking as he stroked her fur.After that, time seemed to crawl as he impatiently answered the officers’ questions, his focus split by worry for Henri, Natalie, and Blitz.The cops grilled him for over an hour, understandably suspicious of the entire situation and his role in it.
His only lies concerned Natalie.He told them the woman’s clothing they’d found in the bedroom belonged to the woman they’d rented the house from, and that the hair dye remnants in the trash were from covering his own premature grays.He was only thirty-two, but it wasn’t totally implausible, and the color was close enough to his own to pass.
They swabbed his hands for gunshot residue, and finally released him, apparently satisfied that Ford hadn’t shot at or stabbed Henri himself.He was allowed to change into clean clothes, pack a bag under the watchful eye of a crime scene tech, grab some things for Henri, and move Blitz after they took photos of her.One of the officers called ahead to a veterinary clinic, asking the doctor to examine Blitz and draw blood for police evidence.
At four-thirty in the afternoon—more than two hours since he’d returned from the mall with Natalie—Ford finally stood across a steel table from the vet, who felt confident Blitz hadn’t been poisoned, only sedated.God, it could’ve been so much worse…
“I believe she will wake in a few hours.”The brusque forty-something woman pointed to a spot on the back of Blitz’s neck where the fur had been flattened by her collar.“Your dog has two microchips, but only one of them works.”
“Two?”
Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she nodded, clearly clueless that she’d just dropped a bomb.“If the first one malfunctioned, your veterinarian should have removed it before placing the new one.”
Motherfucker.A ball of lead settled in Ford’s stomach, but he managed not to swear out loud.Microchipping was mandatory for dogs in Switzerland, so Deschamps’ men would’ve figured Blitz had one.Inserting a tracker right next to the chip she’d gotten as a puppy was the perfect way to mask its presence.With as much fur as she had, it was nearly impossible to feel the rice-sized bump between her shoulder blades anyway, and if he had noticed it, he wouldn’t have been suspicious.Honestly, it was goddamned brilliant.
At least now he knew how the hitman had found them at Henri’s farmhouse despite Ford thinking he and his possessions were “clean.”
He’d known someone entered his home while he sat in jail, and he’d taken extra care to search everything he brought with him, including Blitz.He’d combed through her fur, felt between the pads of her paws, checked her ears, and run a bug finder over her.Just to be safe, he’d also replaced her collar, leash, and bowls, and carefully examined her tags.
Deschamps’ goons must not have activated the tracker immediately, and Ford hadn’t scanned Blitz again after leaving home.
