Left To Die

John was glaring at her fingers with one open eye and the other one still shut. Adele glanced down and realize she’d been tapping a rhythm against the wooden chair.

She flung up her hands in mock surrender and glared at the opaque glass of Foucault’s door once more, and then surged back to her feet. “If he asks, I’m in Robert’s office.”

John shrugged and closed his eyes again.

Adele hurried down a couple of flights of stairs and then moved along a stretch of hall, brushing past only one other man moving quickly in the opposite direction.

Adele had left Robert’s mansion in a rush the previous day. His offers of lodging were still fresh in her mind. It would be nicer than a hotel to stay in the old room she’d occupied for a year back when she first joined the DGSI. But then again, she wasn’t going to be in France for long.

She paused at the thought. She thought of Agent Renee, of her trip to the park, of the smell of the river and Robert’s kindness. It wasn’t as bad as she remembered. The pain of losing her mother had faded somewhat. The double pain of failing to capture her mother’s killer was still fresh in a way, but it too had lessened. Adele needed time to think, and space to do it. John was distracting. It was like working with a monkey. A very dangerous, deadly monkey in the right circumstances.

The Commandos Marine were renowned for their operations throughout Europe and the Middle East. But from an investigative perspective, John seemed to have the subtlety of a jackhammer.

Adele reached Robert’s door and tapped on the glass. There was a pause, then a voice called, “Come in!”

Adele pushed into her old mentor’s office. It was as sparse as when she’d first visited, but he was no longer in a bathrobe and slippers, and wore his neat, pressed suit where he sat behind his large desk, staring with a frown at a computer screen.

It had only been eight hours since she’d left him in his house, but he looked well rested, carrying no bags under his eyes.

For her part, Adele had only managed two hours of sleep in the parking lot, waiting for the expedited tox report to come in. She could feel exhaustion taking its toll and envied Robert’s ability to get by on such little rest.

He looked cheerfully up at her and flashed a smile. He pushed back from the desk, folding his hands in his lap and adjusting his posture so he sat straight-backed in his custom leather chair. “I hear there’s good news.”

She nodded and leaned against the doorjamb, glancing out the window of her mentor’s office toward the city beyond. “I think we have a shot of getting him this time. We just have to hurry.”

Robert nodded and scratched at his wrist. “I…” he began, but trailed off.

A moment of silence fell over the room as both of them seemed lost in their thoughts. Robert always considered his words carefully before he spoke. This time, it took nearly another minute before he opened his mouth. “It wasn’t fair of me to offer you your old room back,” he said, softly. “I apologize.”

Adele looked up, jolted, for a moment, from her worries about the case, Executive Foucault’s phone calls, and Germany’s compliance.

“Excuse me?” she said.

“I know it wasn’t fair of me. I apologize.”

Adele frowned, but then corrected her expression lest her mentor think it was directed at him. “What do you mean? There isn’t anything unfair. It was very kind of you.”

But Robert held up a quieting hand, and waited for her to dwindle into silence. “That’s accommodating of you to say. But I think we both know that your heart isn’t in France. And it is true that my house feels empty at times, but that was my choice; a choice I made years ago.”

“It’s not a choice you still have to make,” Adele said quietly with a shrug. It was a conversation she’d tried to have with him before, and one he’d masterfully avoided on many occasions.

“Perhaps not. But either way, it isn’t fair of me to put you in that position. I hope you know that I do care for you. Greatly. And I want to see you succeed. There are very few agents that I’ve worked with who are as talented as you. You’re more relentless than any of them. And more determined than even I was at your age.”

Adele smiled at this, but then fidgeted. She thought of her father, and how little chance she’d had to become accustomed to kind words, the thought propelling her into a flush of gratitude toward Robert.

“I care about you too,” she said, glancing out the window again. “You’ve been like a father to me; I hope you know that. And my heart may not be in France, but a piece of it is. I don’t know quite where I belong. I hope to figure that out. You’d think in my thirties I would have some idea.”

Robert chuckled at this, though, and shook his head. “It doesn’t get any better toward the end of sixty either. Trust me.”

Adele chuckled. She hesitated, then said, “If it’s all right with you, I would like to stay in my old room instead of that cold hotel. I don’t know how long I’ll be in France. And if the phone call with Executive Foucault goes well, Germany will be allowing us temporary jurisdiction as soon as possible. But when I return, I might have to spend a couple of nights in France still. It would be nice to have a home.”

Robert watched her for a moment, his face expressionless. For a moment, Adele wasn’t sure if she’d offended him somehow. But then she spotted the moistness in his eyes, and his right hand trembling slightly where it was tucked over his left.

“I would very much like that,” he said, clearing his throat. “There are a couple of books that I think you might like. I’ll have them placed in your room before you get there. Should I have someone retrieve your things?”

Adele shrugged. “If you’d like. It’s only really a suitcase. In fact, I haven’t even opened it yet, except for a change of clothes.”

Robert grinned, revealing his two missing teeth; his gap-toothed smile clashing with the rest of his immaculately maintained appearance. Adele allowed herself a quiet chuckle, remembering the many farfetched stories her mentor told about how he lost his teeth.

“Well,” said Robert, “I’ll—” But before he could finish his sentence, Adele felt a hand grip her shoulder.

She jolted and whirled sharply around, resisting the urge to strike out with the flat of her palm to distance herself from an attacker. Agent Renee was staring down at her, his eyes holding a mirth that Adele couldn’t quite place. But it was similar to the look he’d carried when he’d teased her about inside information pertaining to Agent Paige.

“What?” Adele snapped.

“Foucault’s off the phone. He sorted it with the BKA.”

Adele’s eyes widened. “Sorted it? What do you mean?”

John cleared his throat, and his expression soured. “I mean we’re headed to Germany. We don’t have time to pack bags. Anything we need we can buy there. But BKA is willing to work with us on this temporarily. They want to catch the guy too.”

John turned and began stalking up the hall, not waiting for Adele to fall into step.

For a moment she stood in the doorway, staring after a partner, her mouth wide. An FBI agent partnered with a DGSI operative, heading to Germany to work with the BKA, all under the supervision of Interpol. It was unheard of.

Adele shook her head in mild shock. The killer wouldn’t escape. Not this time. They were going to catch him. She knew it. They had to.

At the thought, a strange sensation came over her, like shivering after being doused with ice water. She frowned at the ominous feeling, unsure of its origin for the moment. Somehow, though, as the dreadful feeling spread, she knew that what came next wouldn’t be easy. The killer was not the sort to go down lightly. He was arrogant and dangerous; a deadly man. She would have to do her best to make sure no one else was hurt in his apprehension.

Adele glanced back over her shoulder toward Robert, raising an eyebrow. “You still think he has red hair?” she said.

Robert paused, thought, then nodded. “I’m confident he does. I don’t think it’s a wig. But I think you shouldn’t underestimate this man. He’s confident and has been leading the chase for a while now. He won’t go down easy. And if he can, he’s going to take bodies with him.”

Adele pursed her lips. “I think you’re right. See you in a few days, hopefully.”

Robert gave a small rolling finger wave, but he was no longer smiling as he watched her exit the door and hurry after John, racing down the hall to catch up with his long strides.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

So many flights in so few days. Adele could feel the exhaustion weighing on her like sandbags strapped to her limbs. Still, as she settled in the limousine, with Agent Renee against the other window, she glanced toward the young woman seated across from them.

Their German attaché couldn’t have been older than twenty. She had a nervous, excited energy about her as she surveyed the two agents settling in the back seat of the limousine. If the age of their BKA connection didn’t suggest the German authorities were sending a message, then the provided vehicle certainly did. Adele had never been picked up by a limousine in her life.

A twenty-year-old tour guide in a gauche limousine—the BKA were having a go and Adele wasn’t amused.

Through the window, Adele spotted passengers streaming through sliding glass doors toward waiting vehicles or toward the taxis lining the gates. She heard the sound of jet engines rumbling the sky above and could smell gasoline and stale smoke on the air, settling in the still cabin.

Adele moved her right hand between her leg and the door, so the others couldn’t see, and she pinched herself, trying to propel the pain through her system to jolt herself awake. She needed caffeine. They’d served coffee on the plane, though, and it had done little to revive her.