Chapter Twenty-Seven

“Is that what you want? To lose her? You’re driving her away with this obsession over Hae-Won.”

Niko ran a hand through his hair in frustration and glanced at the empty doorway. “Of course I don’t want to lose her. She’s everything to me.”

Jean-Luc laughed and opened the freezer to pull out a bag of frozen peas. He held it to his face where Niko’s punch landed. “Well, buddy, you got a piss-poor way of showing it. Granted, I’m no expert in the female department, but even I know you don’t defend and praise one woman in front of another. Hell, you all but accused her of lying. Put yourself in her place, man. How would you feel if she waxed poetically about her ex-husband?”

Niko snatched an opened bottle of wine from the refrigerator, yanked out the cork and upended it to his lips. “You can’t spring something like that on me and expect me to shrug my shoulders and say, ‘oh well.’ Hell, I’ve mourned that woman for two years.”

“You turned her into a saint. Hae-Won was no saint. She was a complaining, whining woman.”

“That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it? Take time to think back to all her tirades, all her rants. What central theme flowed through them all? I overheard Hae-Won more than once try to badger information out of you.”

Niko took another long pull of wine. “The Red Hand captured her. Held her prisoner.”

“So they wanted us to think. You know how all that played out. Think it through.”

“We got a call from one of our informants telling us she’d been abducted in Iran.” Niko relived that phone conversation more times than he cared to admit. Memorized every detail. Hae-Won traveled to Iran in search of a story; the big story she was always on the prowl for. With information she got off his computer, she went to The Red Hand’s headquarters on the outskirts of Tabriz, hoping to get exclusive pictures. For two long years he carried around the guilt of allowing her access to that information.

“You’ve been dragging around some pretty oppressive guilt over Hae-Won getting hold of some of our intel. You rambled about it in your delirium during those long hours after you were shot in Tabriz. Before we were rescued. I’ve never talked about it, but damn, now’s the time.”

Niko took another sip of wine, needing to ease the pain. He shrugged in response to Jean-Luc’s remarks. This could not be true. If her death was a lie, then how much of them was a lie? For two years he lived on the memories of her. Were those memories meaningless? Was their time together, those wonderful, glorious times merely a means to an end? Had she used him? Had her exotic sexuality overpowered his training? Should he have seen through it all?

He turned to Jean-Luc. “I don’t know if talking about it will do any good.”

“Might. Might not. Only you can decide. I can tell you this. Whatever you’re hiding is controlling you and has been for a long time.”

Niko nodded, accepting the time had come to tell his best friend. “You might be right.” He took a deep breath and collected his thoughts. “Remember two years ago when The Red Hand was increasing its activity. Hae-Won was after me to tell her what I knew about them. When I refused, she accused me of caring more about the job than her.”

“She was pretty relentless about that. It was hard for me to hear her bitch and bitch at you and keep my mouth shut. I kept wondering why the hell you took it from her.”

“I loved her. Thought we had a future.”

Jean-Luc tossed the bag of peas back into the freezer, leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “So you gave her information?”

“No. Hell, no. Not on purpose. I walked away from my computer with top-secret intel on the screen.” He gauged Jean-Luc’s reaction. What would his childhood friend think of him now?

“What kind of intel?” His stare was cold, hard.

“The list of possible locations of The Red Hand’s hideouts.”

Jean-Luc swore. “Man, what the hell were you thinking?”

“You think I’m proud of what I did? It’s been eating at me night and day. It was the day after that café bombing on the Right Bank. Hae-Won and I were scheduled to leave in a couple days to go see her parents. I told her I couldn’t go. We argued, and she got hysterical.”

Jean-Luc snorted. “What else is new.”

“I came out here to get her some wine, thinking it would calm her. You called to relay some information. While I was here in the kitchen, she looked on my computer and stole the information. That’s how she knew about the hideout in Iran.”

“You walked away from your computer with open files on it?”

Niko nodded and looked away. Seeing the disappointment in Jean-Luc’s eyes was damned difficult. “Yeah, I did. Those addresses were on my screen. The rest of my files were still password protected. No way could she have gotten into them. Treason goes against everything I stand for…and yet I allowed her access to that list.”

Jean-Luc stepped toward Niko. “Time you ditch that guilt, man. It’s been eating at you for too long. A list of addresses. You allowed her to see a list of addresses. Hell, she probably already knew them. Had probably stayed at most of them, if the truth were known. She used you. You’re not the first government agent to think with the wrong head.”

“You know my personal standards about my job. I thought myself better than that.”

“You’re not infallible, no matter what you might think.” His friend jerked his chin toward the empty doorway. “What about Alyson? You going to let her walk out of your life? That’s what she’s prepared to do. Frankly, you’re an ass if you don’t move heaven and earth to stop her.”

Niko took the bottle away from his lips long enough to shrug. “She’s not going anywhere.”

“Why, because you showed her a good time between the sheets while the two of you were gone? She’s not like the other women you’ve had brief affairs with, who fawn and hang on your every word. She’s too classy for that.”

Jean-Luc’s words stung. He was right. Aly was classy and independent.

“You’re being an ass where she’s concerned. Don’t forget, Hae-Won is no doubt the one who shot Alyson. How do you think she feels knowing you’re protecting her attacker?”

Lord, he hadn’t thought of that, but Jean-Luc was right. He couldn’t face that possibility just yet. “We don’t know for sure.”

“Right, and I’m dancing the part of Giselle at the Opéra Royal de Versailles. Idiot. I’m going back to the office to do some background research on Hae-Won. I want cold hard facts about the bitch. A reality check. No dreams. No fantasies created in your mind. No invented righteousness. Meanwhile, you need to decide which woman you want. ’Cause buddy, you’re two heartbeats away from losing Aly.”

Niko watched Jean-Luc walk out and then tossed the empty wine bottle in the trash. The room tilted a little, a result of the brandy and wine no doubt. A cold haze settled. Again he tried to sort through everything. Could Aly be right? Could Hae-Won be alive? No. No, she couldn’t be. That would mean he lived a lie. It would mean their love was a lie. Not his, of course, but hers.

Had she seduced him so she could use him? He was willing to admit they had a tumultuous relationship. Often when he was ready to end it, she taught him some new sexual trick, deepening his physical dependence on her. Facing that weakness humbled his opinion of himself. Perhaps that’s why retaining control in his sexual relationships, no matter how brief they always were, was so important to him now. He glanced toward the empty doorway. At least until a woman with softness over steel walked into his life.

He opened the old breadbox, removed a baguette and pulled off a chunk. While he chewed on the bread, his thoughts focused on Aly. Why would she lie? She’d always been honest, even when it cost her embarrassment.

Perhaps she was mistaken. He pulled off another chunk and shoved it in his mouth. That was a very real possibility. Many people sounded like Hae-Won. How many times had he mistaken a taped voice for hers? Like that voice on a taped phone conversation last year. Had the woman not sounded eerily like Hae-Won? His hand holding another piece of bread stilled in front of his mouth.

My God!

He was doing deep surveillance of The Red Hand at the time. Chatter indicated a planned attack in France, but not the exact location or date. Cell phone conversations were taped. A chill crept up his spine. One distinctive voice sounded so much like Hae-Won, he sunk into a deep depression for days. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t. How blind—and deaf—could he be?

When he stepped back into the salon, the DVD of Hae-Won he watched earlier was clasped in his hand. He would turn it over to Michelle, the unit’s forensic phonetician for analysis and comparison against those taped conversations. Everyone in the salon was quiet. Aly was out on the balcony, huddled against the railing. He should go to her, but before he did, he had to know. “I’m going to the office. There are some tapes I need to review.”

Tony stood, resembling a storm cloud ready to flash lightning. “Aren’t you goin’ to talk to my daughter first?” Evidently Aly told them all of her suspicions.

Niko’s gaze swept to her on the balcony alone. Both of them were in a lot of pain right now. He owed it to her to know the truth or as much of the truth as he could determine, before he spoke to her. “Not now. Not yet.” He turned to walk out.

“Niko.” His maman followed him to the foyer. “You cannot leave without talking to her. She’s devastated. How could you put another woman before Aly? On one hand you say you love her and on the other you defend and yearn for Hae-Won. What message does this send?”

He raked fingers through his hair. “I’ll talk to her after I know more of the facts. She can’t go anywhere, not without a passport.”

****

They looked like a band of gypsies when the taxi drove up. Gwen, her dad and Aly walked two blocks over to another street to meet the cab. Alyson learned that safety measure from Niko. Never take a cab from or to your place of residence. The cab dropped them three blocks away from the Madison, the hotel she stayed at when she first arrived. With her new hairdo and contacts, the concierge never recognized her. Plus her dad took care of registration and paying for their rooms.

Some might question her judgment in returning to this lovely hotel. She was banking on that logic. In her opinion, this was the last place anyone—The Red Hand or Niko—would look. Her dad, the retired policeman, saw the rationality to her thinking. For that, she was grateful.

Their rooms were adjoining. Her dad took the smaller of the bedrooms while she and Gwen lugged their baggage into the larger room with two beds. A bathroom with a separate water closet occupied the space between the two bedrooms.

“Damnedest thing I ever saw.” Her dad stood in the tiny hall between the water closet and bathroom, motioning to each as he spoke. “You go in this little room to take a leak. Damn thing’s barely big enough to turn around in. Then ya gotta walk across this hall to the room with the sink and tub to wash your hands. Why not put them together?”

“It’s the French way, Dad.” Alyson unzipped her suitcase and started sorting through her clothes. Most of them were dirty from her trip to Villerville.

“Well, I’m not feelin’ too friendly toward the French right now. Hell, with their bathrooms screwed up like this, ain’t no wonder they’re grumpier than a constipated bee. Viviana is a lovely woman, though. ’Course she’s Italian. How she raised an ass like Niko is beyond me.” He yawned. “I can’t go no longer, girls. Couldn’t sleep on that flight last night. Too worried about you, buttercup.” He glanced at his wristwatch. “Been up now for thirty-five hours. I’m gonna crash. What are you two gonna do?”

“I need to get some laundry done or buy new clothes.” Aly sifted through the pile of soiled items. Few could go into a dryer, which meant a long time drying on hangers or the shower rod. “Gwen, you feel like shopping?”

“Always.”

Her dad was unbuttoning his shirt and scratching his belly. “I ain’t so sure I like the sound of that. You two girls be careful.”

“Look, Dad, no one knows we’re here. We just arrived. Besides, my name isn’t on the hotel registration. I’ll need cash, though, or a credit card. I can’t use mine. It’ll be traced. I’ll pay you back when we get home. You know that.”

He reached for his wallet. “Yeah, I do.” He handed her a wad of Euros. “I came well-prepared, but use some judgment. Ya hear?”

“We won’t be long. Have a good nap.”

She and Gwen hurried up the street. “We need to buy you heels.”

Her sister glanced at her. “Heels?”

“Yes, French women wear heels even with jeans and capris. They make a woman’s hips sway.” No sooner had her repetition of Niko’s words escaped her lips than the tears started. She swiped at her damp cheeks.

“Who are you and where has my sister gone?”

“I don’t know, Gwen. I’m so confused I don’t know who I am anymore. Damn Niko Reynard to hell for that.” She fought her tears and drew on her anger. “Here’s a shoe store. We both need good heels. You need to ditch the white sneakers here in Europe.”

In a little over two hours, they made quite a dent in her dad’s stash of Euros and swiped Gwen’s credit card until it was smoking.

They tossed their bags onto the bed when they returned to their suite. “Now I know what it’s like to shop Parisian style. Whew, you’ve developed some new tastes here in Paris.” Gwen flipped the lid off the shoebox and pulled out a pair of red and black stilettos. “Where will I wear these back home?”

Aly laughed. “One wears them anywhere. To create the mood, to feel sensual. Or so a saleswoman told me when Niko took me shoe shopping.”

“He went in the store with you? A man who shops?”

“Oh, more than that. He pushed the saleswoman aside and tried the shoes on me.”

Gwen collapsed into a gold velvet chair. “You’re kidding me.”

“No. We’d only met a few hours before, but he slid his hands up my calves in the most suggestive manner. He kept his dark eyes locked on mine as if making love to me right there in the store.” Pain squeezed her heart. Such special memories to live a lifetime on. Memories and betrayal. “I can’t talk about him right now. My feelings are too raw.”

“You had a hot affair with a young Frenchman. Can you ever forget?”

“No. I can never forget. Knowing Niko changed me in many ways. Ways I can’t begin to describe.” Aly opened the box containing a wig. “Finding that wig shop was a Godsend. If I dye my hair one more time, it’ll probably fall out.”

“You’re changing the subject.”

“Look, it’s either that, or I break down and cry again. What purpose would that serve?” She tugged on the wig of long brunette hair styled in gentle waves. “I haven’t worn my hair this long since college.” She glanced from side-to-side in the mirror. “No one will recognize me now, especially Niko. If he even bothers to look.”

****

Niko had been at his desk in the unit for less than two hours when Henri limped in, his cane creating a cadence in the quiet office area. “What the hell are you doing back already? Thought you were taking a couple weeks off.” He groaned when he settled in a chair across from Niko’s.

“How did you know I was back?” He spared his boss a glance before turning his attention back on the images on the three screens at his workstation. His gaze systematically went from one screen to the next, comparing, analyzing.

Henri was probably pissed he had to deal with his presence. This was another problem Niko would have to resolve soon. Not now, though. Now was devoted to finding Hae-Won.

“Security tells me as a matter of routine when someone with scheduled time off enters the office area.”

“So your security experts are kept under security, is that it?” Watching others was his job, yet feeling like he was being watched galled him.

“No need to get your back up. I am just concerned. What’s going on?” Henri crossed his forearms over the handle of the cane and leaned forward, his eyes intent on Niko.

This was not going to be easy. Admitting a woman sucked him in, duped him and successfully faked her death for two years didn’t speak well for his level of professionalism. However, it had to be shared with this man. A man who, once he smelled blood, never failed to go for the jugular.

Niko looked away for a beat and gathered his resolve. “Do you remember Hae-Won, a photojournalist I dated a few years ago?”

“The one captured by The Red Hand? Yes, I remember her. Controlling young woman, as I recall.”

“The recent attack on my family may be connected to her.”

“How so?”

Now came the sticky part; keeping Aly out of the conversation since he falsified her death to keep her safe. Hell, everyone—Dembri, Hae-Won and he—were doing it, like some kind of bizarre fake-a-death fad.

“As you’ll recall, there were two gunmen who broke into my home, a male and a female. My mother and sister described the female as having the same build as Hae-Won. Earlier today I was looking at an old video I had of Hae-Won and me in Spain on vacation. They said her voice sounded like the female gunman’s. Jean-Luc was there. He reminded me we never saw Hae-Won’s body. After a heated discussion, I came back to the unit to search through some old tapes and photographs.”

Henri’s beady eyes never once blinked. They just stared at him. “And?”

“She may still be alive. What’s worse, what makes me feel like an ass—and an incompetent ass at that—is if she indeed is alive, then she’s part of The Red Hand organization.”

The older man’s eyes closed for a fraction, an imperceptible movement few people would notice, but Niko did. “Show me the evidence. Put the pictures up on the wide screen and list the facts.”

Jean-Luc, one side of his face puffy and sporting a black eye, came in carrying sandwiches and drinks. “Traffic was a bitch.” His steps halted when he saw his boss. “Henri, if I had known you were here, I’d have gotten something for you.” He set the food on Niko’s large desk.

“What in God’s name happened to your face?”

Jean-Luc jerked his chin in Niko’s direction. “I ran into a fist.”

Henri’s head swiveled toward Niko. “That heated discussion you mentioned?”

“Yes, sir. Jean-Luc and I have a history of beating up on each other when one of us is stressed. Coming to grips with my stupidity was not an easy process.” He bit into his sandwich. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast in Villerville and he was starving.

His superior aimed a glare at Niko. “You two are a strange pair. When I found out you were coming to work for me, I was not pleased with your demand Jean-Luc come, too. I do have to admit he’s shown himself to be a valuable asset to our department. I’m going into my office and elevate my foot. It thumps with pain. Looks like I better call Marie and tell her I’ll be here for a while.”

Henri shook his head in his typical philosophical manner. “Women do complicate a man’s life. Which is why choosing a good one is so wise. You’ll choose more wisely the next time. A man’s head is often turned by a fine figure, especially if that figure is easily available. Hae-Won was those things. She was also a manipulating, whining bitch. What surprised me was how easily you were ensnared in her sexual web. You thought with your dick instead of your brain. As a result, you brought The Red Hand into our midst. I thought you were smarter than that.”

Niko winced. He didn’t handle criticism well. Never had, specifically in relation to his job performance.

“Call me when you get your presentation ready. Just don’t keep me waiting long. Pain is not a good companion.” Henri stood, flinched and hobbled toward his office.