Chapter 10

 

Their flight landed at Charles De Gaulle Airport in Paris around seven that morning. Ben Gooden did offer Emma the corporate jet for the hop over the Atlantic, but after what happened to her dad, Emma wanted to go commercial. The Gems headed straight for the rental car area, where Olivia presented a special black credit card to the man at a special check-in desk. Normally a group of teenage girls couldn’t rent a brand-new Renault sedan. But this was Paris, and special things always happened in Paris.

“Mademoiselle Emerald, your car will be waiting here, on the lower level.” The man drew it out on a paper map with French and English labels. “Remember to return the car full of petrol or my employer will charge a fee and Mrs. B wouldn’t like that. Enjoy your stay in Paris.”

“Merci, Turtledove,” Olivia replied with our contact’s code name as she took the key fob from him.

They walked through the concourse and past a line of waiting taxis to reach the lower level of the parking garage. Olivia tossed the key fob to Nadia, who slipped into the driver’s seat as they packed their bags in the trunk. Nadia took on the heavy traffic through Paris and Emma was impressed how calm the girl was behind the wheel. Inside the confusing French traffic roundabouts, huge trucks would try to cut Nadia off, but she weaved her way in and out of each problem without once freaking. By noon, she parked the Renault across the street from AgEurope headquarters.

Emma prepared herself to step inside the building. “How do I look?”

“Perfect.”

The way Olivia said this told Emma it wasn’t a compliment.

“Do we need to go over our parts again?” Emma asked. “Olivia is my assistant—”

“We know that already, love. We’ve done this spy thing before. The big question is are you ready? Do you know what you’re going to say?” Olivia asked.

“Of course. I got this.”

 

Emma’s heels clicked along the tiles of the ground floor as she held her head high with confidence. She was the heiress to the Rothchild fortune. Her father’s corporation was powerful and well respected around the world. She had to represent it well. Emma made sure she looked the part. Designer dress, shoes, sunglasses, jewelry, bag…it was the perfect costume.

Emma noted the reception desk and veered towards it. She crossed her arms and sighed at the receptionist, who finally acknowledged her.

“Please tell…” Emma drew a blank.

Olivia whispered in her ear, “Jacqueline Boyay.”

“Yes, of course. Please tell Jacqueline Boyay that I’m ready to see her now.”

The receptionist paused. “Mademoiselle Boyay is in a meeting. May I ask what this visit is regarding?”

“You may not,” Emma said. “Her office is which floor?”

“The top floor. I’ll need to clear your appointment with her assistant first, Mademoiselle…?”

“Rothchild. And I don’t bother with appointments.” Emma’s method acting technique took full control of her senses. She now felt powerful. In control. A young woman not to be underestimated or messed with. “Tell Jacqueline I’ll be waiting in her office.” Emma pointed her shoes towards the elevators and walked on the first one that opened its doors. Olivia, Miyuki, and Nadia all exchanged worried looks before joining her. The doors closed. Emma pressed the button at the top and the elevator began its climb.

“What are you doing?” Olivia asked. “You’re supposed to be playing yourself. Not some stuck-up princess spitting on the peons.”

“I’m playing a more confident version of me. Hey, it got us on the elevator, didn’t it? Just play along and everything will be fine.”

“If you goof this up, I’ll personally twist your perfect neck.”

Emma threw her a look. “Try it and I’ll straighten that broom you call a hairstyle.”

Olivia gasped.

“Would you both please chill?” Miyuki asked.

“I agree,” Nadia said. “Take it down a level.”

The elevator stopped and revealed another large reception area with no windows. Small LED lamps emphasized pieces of modern artwork hanging on the dark walls. A well-fit man in a well-tailored suit stood up from the only desk in the room.

Emma knocked her head back and marched towards him. “I’m Emma Rothchild, daughter of Kenneth Rothchild. Jacqueline will want to see me. Is her office straight through those glass doors? Thank you, sir. Handsome suit, by the way.” Emma headed for the outer office doors.

But the man’s hand grabbed her arm.

“Mademoiselle Boyay cannot be disturbed,” the man in the suit said, his eyes not in the mood to play along.

“Oh yes, I know she’s in a meeting. Only wanted to cool my heels. Any harm in that? Of course not. Men don’t understand how difficult it is to walk around in heels all day.” Emma glared at his hand. “Could you please stop wrinkling my blouse? It’s quite expensive.”

Miyuki and Nadia glanced at each other.

“Mademoiselle Boyay cannot be disturbed,” the man repeated with added annoyance.

Emma rolled her eyes. “You said that already. Are you sure we can’t wait for her? How about inside this lovely reception area? That way you can make sure we don’t steal your art collection.”

The man didn’t loosen his grip.

Olivia offered him a business card. “I work for Mr. Gooden, president of AirTech. The company that built the climate control system at your new office here? We have some unfinished business that Mr. Gooden would like to tidy up. What time does Miss Boyay have available on today’s calendar, sir?”

The man released Emma and took Olivia’s card, examining it.

Emma dug her fists against her waist. “You’re a rude baboon. I’ve never been treated with such disrespect in all my—”

Miyuki jumped in front of Emma. “You must see this amazing painting. It has cows!”

“What?”

Miyuki took Emma’s hand and guided her away. Nadia came up from behind and shielded Emma from the man’s line of sight. The three girls didn’t stop until they reached one of the paintings near the elevator.

“What are you doing?” Emma asked.

“Let Olivia do her thing,” Miyuki said.

“Yes, you were about to get us all thrown out,” Nadia whispered. “Now, admire the pretty painting.”

Emma scoffed and took in the massive picture of a wheat field near a Dutch windmill. Normal enough. But the sky wasn’t blue. It was painted to look like, chocolate?

“You lied,” Emma said. “This painting doesn’t have any cows.”

The girls watched as Olivia discussed something with the male assistant. Finally, the man returned to his desk. Olivia quietly joined the other girls. “Jacqueline’s on her way.”

All the girls were relieved.

“Emma, if you’re going to act like…whatever it is you’re doing…act nicer. We want people to help us, not piss them off so they won’t talk.”

“Sorry about that,” Emma said. “But it felt good, so I went with it.”

The girls each found a seat and waited.

A half hour later, the elevator opened and out stepped a woman with high cheekbones. She wore dark slacks, short spikey blond hair, and a business suit. Blood-red lipstick covered her lips. The woman sized up the four girls before heading inside her office without a word.

A phone rang and the man with the suit answered in a low, businesslike tone. The man finished and stood.

“Mademoiselle Boyay will see you now.”

The four girls stood up in unison as they checked their clothes.

“She will only see Miss Rothchild and the AirTech representative.” The man eyed Miyuki and Nadia. His cold stare forced them back down into their seats. The man opened the double glass doors, allowing Emma and Olivia to step inside before he closed them.

Jacqueline Boyay’s office was modern and cold. Silver with black accents. Strange Gothic statues placed with the eye of a designer who loved bleakness. The only color was the sun coming from the window. It surprised Emma that this was a woman’s office.

Jacqueline invited them to sit and offered them something to drink. Both girls declined. The woman then poured herself a scotch and sipped it while she slid behind her black desk. Jacqueline crossed her long legs and studied the girls.

She said nothing.

Emma summoned her courage. The stage was lit. The curtain was up. The people in the audience were watching and waiting. It was showtime. “My time is valuable, Jacqueline, so I don’t appreciate it being wasted like this. However, I do need answers, so let’s get to it, okay? Great. I—”

“Sorry to hear about your father,” Jacqueline interrupted. “He was a great man and I admired him. It must be hard on you and your grandmother.”

Emma froze, thinking about her dad took her right out of character. She swallowed. “Yes…um, thank you.”

Jacqueline took a sip and peered out the window. “When I was six, there was a fire at our home. I remember the cries from our dog as the flames closed in on him while I cried and screamed for help. The firemen came in time to save me. But my parents burned to death. To this day, I still remember every detail.” Jacqueline took a larger sip from her glass before glancing at Emma. “I understand.”

Emma melted. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry.”

Jacqueline swirled her glass of alcohol. “Believe it or not, it made me a stronger woman. I hope a similar transformation will happen to you. A phoenix from the ashes.” The woman placed her drink on the desk and sat back in her leather chair. “May I ask the reason for your surprise visit?”

“I’m here to investigate my father’s death.”

“The investigators said it was an accident, if I remember correctly,” Jacqueline said.

“I found evidence to the contrary, so I’m conducting my own investigation.”

“What makes you think it wasn’t an accident?” Jacqueline asked.

Emma’s confidence flowed back into her veins. “I’m not at liberty to discuss what I know at this time. But I wanted to ask you a few questions about what AirTech did for your company.”

Jacqueline’s eyes flicked to Olivia. “Shouldn’t you ask Mr. Gooden’s assistant here first?”

Olivia didn’t hesitate. “Mr. Gooden has offered the vast resources of Rothchild Industries to aid Miss Rothchild in her investigation. We’ve given her all the information about AirTech’s climate control system. However, Miss Rothchild would like to see one of the newly installed systems herself.”

“Why would you be interested in that?” Jacqueline said.

“Some AirTech engineers who were assigned to the project died in the same accident that claimed Mr. Rothchild,” Olivia said.

“Do you suspect there’s a connection? Intriguing.” Jacqueline looked out the window again for a moment before swinging around on her chair and picking up the phone. “Pierre? Cancel my appointments this afternoon and bring my car to the front. I’m giving Miss Rothchild a tour of the growth labs.”