It’s not the place I’d planned on, but it will have to do. After enough time has passed, I’ll head straight back to the apartment and lock myself inside.
He starts toward a table with a clear view of the sidewalk. If I can see out, someone else can see in.
“Do you have a table in the back?”
Another nod before he leads me to a far corner.
“Perfect,” I say. “Merci beaucoup.”
He sets down the menu and sweeps out an arm. “Someone will be with you soon.”
When he leaves, I pull out my phone. My first instinct is to text Lin and tell her about the woman.
But maybe I shouldn’t bother her with this. I’m sure she’s in bed. Besides, what could she do to help? I’m halfway around the globe in a sticky situation of my own making. She did all thework of getting me to Paris and booking a swanky apartment, giving me only two directives.
Keep your head down. And don’t disturb the family.
Only three days here and I’ve failed at both.
An older woman comes over and takes my order. I ask for a croque madame and a coffee with milk.
Minutes pass and my anxiety fades, so I lean back in the booth. I’m safe for now. The restaurant is almost empty, only a few people at other tables. Peaceful and quiet.
Which is why I hear sound rush in when the front door opens.
The man who greeted me speaks to someone in French, before coming back to where I’m seated. He brings the blonde woman with him.
Smiling, he speaks to her again and gestures to me, as if we’re two friends meeting for coffee.
I shrink down, but there’s nowhere to go. I’ve trapped myself in the back corner, and she’s blocking the only way out.
She walks over to my booth, no apology, no explanation. No pretending she didn’t chase me down the street.
At least she doesn’t sit, only stares at me. “My name is Alice Hughes, and I’d like to speak with you.”
Her tone of voice surprises me, somewhat stern and with a British accent. “No comment.”
A line of confusion settles in her brow. But then her expression flashes to one of understanding and she shakes her head. “You think I’m a reporter?”
I do a quick scan of her clothing. No camera in her hand or hanging from her shoulders.
“I still can’t talk to you.” Lowering my head, I slip on my sunglasses. “Please, go.”
“It’s about my sister,” she says.
This catches me off guard, but I don’t understand what she means. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know your sister.”
“I still need to talk to you.” She slides into the opposite seat. “Because she used to live in your apartment.”
13
“My apartment?” Her words stun me into stillness, and I take off the glasses.
“Yes, the unit on the end that’s always empty. I’ve been watching the place.” She pauses, shadows passing behind her eyes. “Because my sister discovered something while she was there.”
Her somber tone sends a chill down my spine. “What do you mean? What did your sister tell you?”
“Nothing. She didn’t get a chance.” Alice stares at me for a moment and leans forward. “Rose is missing, and the last place anyone saw her was the mansion.” She curls her hands into fists. “Withthose people.”
