She rested her hand over his. “It’ll be fine. Please don’t stop me. I need to focus on something other than my pathetic life. And if we succeed, think of the families we’ll help.”
Using his own words against him. He glanced down at the passport.
“She’s younger than you.” He tested a theory. “That could be a problem.”
“Only by a couple of years.” She pulled back her hand and huffed out a breath. “I’m twenty-six.”
“Not twenty-four?”
She glared at him, but remained silent. One more crack in the facade she’d created around herself.
“I hate to say this, but Miss Perrault has brown hair and greenish eyes.” Henry glanced between the picture and Gabe. It was close, but not perfect.
Her shoulders lifted in a slight shrug. “Your choice. Either we forget chasing down your painting, or I need some hair color, makeup, and colored contacts. It may cost up to a hundred pounds.”
He rubbed his temples again. “My hundred pounds?”
“Henry, whose painting are we searching for?”
Chapter Eighteen
Simon hated the idea of French cafés. A quiet English pub had more privacy and better beer. He tucked himself into the farthest corner of the place and ordered a Coke. Only two other tables had patrons at them, located on the other side of the room. Simon kept his distance. He didn’t trust anyone, the waitstaff included. He caught up on emails for almost an hour, then the energy around him shifted. She made it. Nicola strutted between the empty tables and chairs wearing a tight black skirt cut to reveal the maximum amount of leg and a loose white blouse without a bra. She radiated sexual satisfaction. Someone was getting some, and it wasn’t him.
Glances of lust followed her from a table of men by the door. They’d better put their eyes back in their heads and focus on their own pathetic lives, because Simon required privacy for this conversation. The information Henry had given him about Gabe’s fake passport linked her to Luc Perrault. That placed his brother in the middle of something deadly.
“Darling, nice to see you.” Nicola kissed him on each cheek when he stood to greet her. Her face held zero emotion.
“Sit.” He pulled out the chair next to him. “How’s your holiday?”
They sat close enough to carry on a conversation safely. After Nicola ordered a café au lait, she leaned back in her seat away from Simon. They couldn’t jeopardize her cover by appearing to like each other. Her new French lover had a jealous streak the width of the Pacific Ocean.
She rolled her eyes and appeared bored. “Luc told me that Danielle, his sister, is traveling around Thailand and won’t be returning for several months. Seems odd when her passport is traveling to the States this afternoon.”
Simon took a sip of his drink, slammed the glass down, and then clenched his fists. “I’ve contacted Interpol. They’ll be monitoring Gabe’s movements with Danielle’s passport in and out of the US. I’ll have them contact the Thai government to track down Ms. Perrault and her companion Travis Poole, some Yank from San Francisco.”
“You’re on the ball, as usual. As to the other name, Luc never mentioned an Alex, and I’m hesitant to ask. I did overhear him speaking about an ex-girlfriend who disappeared about two months ago. She’s some sort of linguistic genius, knows around twenty languages.” She shook her head and stood.
Simon grabbed her arm and pulled her closer. His eyes flashed to emulate the anger of an ex-suitor. “This girlfriend could be Gabe. We need more information. If he’s the one she’s running from, and he finds her, she doesn’t stand much of a chance. Luc doesn’t mess around when he wants someone dead. Three of his associates have ended up in the morgue so far this year.”
“You’re not even positive she’s the girlfriend,” she purred in his ear.
“I’m not positive about anything with Gabe. Although she did mumble in French when she first appeared in Henry’s house, I’ve never seen her act as though she understood anyone speaking a foreign language. She does, however, have Luc’s sister’s passport. To be safe, we should keep them apart. Stay close to Luc for the time being. If you sense things going south, get the hell out of there.” He released her, and she stepped back.
“I know how to do my job. I’ll stick to him like glue once he returns.” She strode across the cafe.
Simon threw down a few euros and followed. “Returns?”
“He’ll be back in two days. Don’t worry.” She sauntered toward the door, but he caught her arm again.
When they stepped outside, Nicola pulled away. She had to appear as though he wanted her back, but she preferred staying with Luc. Simon braced himself. She’d always staged these scenes with more emotion than necessary.
“Go to hell.” She slapped his face hard. Pain shot through his jaw, and his eyes watered. She’d held nothing back, the pain in the ass. By the time he blinked away the stinging, she’d fled across the street.
“Already there.” He turned and walked in the opposite direction.
…