29

Limoges, France. January 19

By the time Noah and Elise reached the hotel, the sun had begun to set. When the slow elevator finally opened on the fifth floor, Noah nodded his good-bye to Elise and left without another word.

Inside his room, he had a quick glance around but saw nothing out of place. The reassurance was hollow, though. He knew that his “shadow” would be unlikely to leave another calling card. The thought even occurred to him that the displaced bookmark might not have been an oversight. Did someone leave it for me as a warning? he wondered grimly.

Exhausted from the emotional roller coaster of the day, he longed to climb under the covers, but he could not shake the sense of time sifting away. He reached into his jacket and extracted the notebook that he now carried with him everywhere. He scribbled pages of notes from the interview with Benoît Gagnon’s lover and Giselle Tremblay’s mother, including a description of Giselle’s and Philippe’s similar obsession with water.

Satisfied, he closed the notebook and stuffed it back into his jacket. He glanced at his watch and calculated that it would be one o’clock in the afternoon in South Carolina. He picked up the phone and dialed Anna’s parents’ number from memory.

“Hi,” the little voice chirped.

“Chloe!”

“Daddy-o!” she shrieked.

Noah was flooded with affection. “Chlo, how’s my girl? I heard a bee stung you. You okay?”

“A hornet, Daddy, and it was no biggie,” she said with a worldliness she must have absorbed from one of her favorite preteen, or tweenie, shows that she watched religiously. “The hornets won’t get me again, because I can swim underwater now.”

“Cool.”

“Mommy says we have to go home in two days, but I want to stay here.”

“Don’t you miss home?”

She hesitated. “Will you be home, Daddy?”

The innocent words tore at his heart. “Not for a little while longer.”

“Then I want to stay here. It’s too cold in Washington. Why does anyone live there?”

“Good question.” Noah laughed.

They discussed school and friends, and for fifteen minutes the vCJD crisis slipped out of mind and Noah relived the carefree happiness of their Mexican vacation. Then he asked, “Hon, can I speak to your mom now?”

“Her and Julie went shopping with Granna. Gramps is here. Want to talk to him?”

“That’s okay, Chlo,” Noah said, brought down to the earth by the reminder that Julie had fully replaced him on this family vacation. “I love you. Can’t wait to see you again.”

“Right back atcha, Daddy-o!” she said, stealing another line from one of her shows.

Noah ordered a light dinner from room service. He decided that the WHO could splurge on a nice bottle of wine and chose a pinot noir from the Alsace region. While waiting for dinner, he opened his laptop and read his e-mail. He was pleased to see a brief message from Gwen sent from her BlackBerry that read: GOOD TO TALK TO YOU TODAY. MY OFFER STILL STANDS. REGARDLESS, COME HOME SAFE SOON. GWEN.

He thought for a moment and then began his reply. RIGHT BACK ATCHA, he typed, recycling Chloe’s phrase. APPRECIATE THE OFFER, BUT IT’S NOT NECESSARY. FAR RATHER SEE YOU AT HOME. I MIGHT EVEN SPRING FOR DINNER.

Then he composed a brief e-mail for Jean, which read: JEAN, WE NEED TO DISCUSS DEVELOPMENTS IN PERSON. HERE OR THERE?

He exited his e-mail and launched the Internet browser. He searched for the Limoges police department and found an address and phone number for Gendarmerie Limoges. He decided there was no point in calling them until morning when he was more likely to reach a detective.

Dinner arrived and Noah picked at it with little appetite. He had just filled his second glass of wine when the bedside phone rang. He reached for it. “Noah Haldane,” he said.

“It has been a long day,” Elise said without a word of greeting. “I deserve a glass of wine. I think you do, too.”

“I’m holding mine already.”

“Wine is better shared,” she said. “Will you join me at the bar?”

“As you said, it’s been a long one. I’m beat,” he said, thinking it might be best not to see Elise until he had spoken to the police.

“Of course.” She cleared her throat. “I will see you in the morning, then.”

The trace of vulnerability in her voice was enough to break his resolve. “You know what? How could another glass of wine hurt?”

“I will save a table.”

Noah finished his second glass of wine and then headed for the door. With his hand on the handle, he had a sudden twinge of suspicion and went back to grab his jacket and the notebook tucked inside.

By the time Noah reached the bar, Elise had already claimed the corner table. A bottle of red stood on the tabletop and an empty glass awaited him on the other side. Wearing jeans and a black blouse, she sat holding a wineglass that was down to its last drops. He noticed her flushed cheeks and the uncharacteristic carefree sparkle in her eyes. He assumed she was beyond her first glass.

She raised the glass to him. “Welcome.”

He smiled as he dropped onto the stool across from her. A waiter arrived and refilled Elise’s glass and, with a nod from Noah, filled his, too. They toasted silently. Noah had a sip of the subtly dry wine. Elise cleared her throat. “I am sorry, Noah.”

He shook his head. “I was the one who overstepped my bounds.”

“And I was the one who overreacted.” She smiled disarmingly. “You just…touched a nerve…. Is that the right expression?”

Noah nodded.

She looked away. “Javier and I do have a history,” she said quietly.

“Elise, you don’t have to—”

“It is so common, it is almost expected for people of his standing,” she continued as if Noah had never spoken. “Affairs here are more…accepted…than in America. But I never saw myself as being someone’s mistress! Javier and I worked so many long hours together. I wish I could blame him for what happened. The truth is that it was as much my fault. I broke my own rules.” She smiled down at the table. “I know that he is a politician inside and out, but he is also a charming, caring man. And we fell in love.” Her smile faded and her voice dropped. “Or, at least, I fell in love.”

Noah fingered the stem of his glass. “Is it over now?” he asked gently.

Elise shrugged. “I thought so. He has a young family. We both knew it was for the best that we stop. And for months we did, but then that night in Paris, before our meeting, he came to my room to talk….” She shook her head. “It should never have happened.”

Noah finished the last of his glass. “It’s never easy, is it?”

Elise looked up at him, her eyes slightly reddened but still burning. “You wanted to know why I was not ‘more assertive’ at our meeting. I think it was maybe because I was confused, distracted…and a little embarassed.” She drained her glass again and placed it gently on the table. “I hope that doesn’t make you uncomfortable, but I felt I needed to tell you. I want you to be able to trust me again.”

Noah met her stare. “And I want to trust you.”

“You do not, though,” she said with matter-of-fact frankness.

“I think there’s a leak on our side.”

She viewed him impassively. “And I am it?”

“Not necessarily. But somewhere in the chain of command in the E.U., I believe, sensitive information is getting out to the wrong people.”

The waiter came by and refilled both of their glasses. After he left, Elise leaned forward in her chair and spoke in a quieter tone. “I agree, Noah, that is one possible explanation.”

“One?”

“Has it occurred to you that the leak might be on your side?” she asked.

Noah straightened, taken aback. “At the WHO?”

“Why not?” she said. “You have been keeping Jean abreast of our investigation, have you not?”

“Jean?” Noah laughed at the thought. “I would trust my life in his hands. In fact, I have.”

“And you are probably right to do so,” she said. “Surely, Jean reports to others in the WHO. Your information would be shared, non?”

“Jean does not have to report to anyone at the WHO. And he’s extremely discreet,” Noah said with an edge, but even as he spoke the words he realized she had a point. He could not disregard the possibility that the leak could have happened through the director’s office. Troubled, he drained the rest of the glass.

She studied him. Her smile was as warm as any he had seen from her. “Noah, I am not the enemy,” she said.

He sighed. “There is so much left unexplained here in Limousin.”

“We are making progress, non?”

The waiter arrived again and poured the last of the bottle into her glass. Wordlessly, Elise nodded for a new bottle, and the server picked up the empty one and headed off to replace it. Already buzzed from the wine, and longing for someone to vent to, Noah said, “Dr. Charron was trying to reach me.”

She tilted her head. “When?”

“The night he died. Within an hour and a half of his death.”

Her forehead creased into a deep frown. “Wasn’t he drunk when he died?”

“Exactly.”

“Did he leave a message?”

Noah shook his head.

She put down the glass and touched the tabletop gingerly as if it might be too hot. “Then how do you know he called you?”

Noah told her about the missed calls on his cell phone. And then he said, “You never met him, Elise, but believe me: He was not the kind of guy to call unless he had something important to share.”

She nodded. “Maybe he wanted to tell you about his conversation with Michel Dieppe, and how he discovered the relationship between the two male victims?”

“Maybe,” he said gravely. “Or maybe he had uncovered something else.”

Her mouth parted in surprise. “Dr. Charron’s accident? You don’t think that someone might have…”

“I don’t know.”

Her hand trembled slightly as she brought the glass to her mouth.

“Elise, I am going to the police with what I know.” He realized it might have sounded as though he defied her to stop him, but he did not qualify the remark.

“I think we have to.”

Her unexpected agreement relaxed him. “Maybe we are on the same side, after all.” He laughed.

Her frown gave way to another grin. “I have been trying to tell you that.”

She raised her glass, and they clinked rims. “To new beginnings,” she said.

“Salut,” he replied.

Elise’s cheeks burned redder. “You mentioned that you and your wife separated last year. I know it is none of my business, but I was wondering—”

“Another woman,” Noah said.

“Oh,” Elise said with surprise. “And have you and this woman—”

“I wasn’t the one who left for the other woman.”

Elise squinted in confusion. Then her eyes lit with understanding and she fought back a laugh. “I—I am sorry,” she stammered. “I don’t mean to make light of it. I just did not expect that.”

“You didn’t expect it? How do you think I felt?” Noah said, and after a pause, they exploded in uproarious laughter.

As they finished the second bottle of wine, their conversation drifted toward more drunken confidences. They exchanged horror stories of previous romances gone awry. And Elise’s Belgian accent grew more pronounced as she began to slur her words slightly. “You know that evening when Javier came to my room in Paris?” she said with a conspiratorial tone. “I phoned him.”

“Oh?” Noah lowered his glass.

“I had seen Duncan and you in the bar earlier.” She looked down. “You had not invited me. And I was feeling a little left out.”

Noah reached across and patted the back of her hand. “We were discussing heavy family issues. I don’t think you would have wanted to join us.”

She grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze.

Noah squeezed back before releasing the grip and pulling his hand back. “Listen, Elise. It’s late. And we’re drunk.”

She nodded. “And tomorrow is a big, big day. C’est ça?”

“Oui.” Noah looked up and pantomimed signing to the waiter, who hurried over with the already printed bill. With a drunken squiggle, Noah left a generous tip.

On the way to the elevator, Elise swayed slightly on her feet. A couple of times, she leaned into Noah before she regained her footing. The elevator was empty when they stepped inside, but Elise stood very close. Noah pressed the buttons for the fifth and sixth floors. The doors closed. As the elevator jerked into motion, she stumbled forward and caught herself bumping against him. But rather than step back, she leaned even closer. Her wine-scented breath tickled his cheek. And when her eyes found his, they were inviting. She parted her lips a fraction and then pressed them against his.

Noah returned the kiss, enjoying the warm wetness and the sweet taste of her lips. Her tentative pressure gave way to a deeper kiss, and her arms wrapped around his back.

The implication of their contact hit Noah with a start, as sudden sobriety descended on him. He pulled his face away from hers and gently wriggled free of her embrace. Holding her arm in his hands, he said, “Elise, this is not…” But he ran out of words.

She backtracked two steps and stared at the floor. “Of course,” she said softly. “It would be inappropriate.”

The pleasant taste of her breath still lingered on his lips, but in his mind, Noah pictured Gwen’s alluring smile, eyes brimming with desire and her upper teeth gently biting down on her lower lip. Confused, he mumbled, “I think it might look different for both of us in the morning.”

She viewed him almost wistfully. “Lately, I have come to dread the mornings.”