Chapter Sixteen

ACACIA PARKED HER MOTORCYCLE in front of her building and ran inside; she climbed the steps to her flat as if the Devil himself were chasing her. Inside her jacket, her cell phone rang.

She ignored it.

Once she was locked safely in her apartment, she sank to the floor, her body shaking. She covered her chest with her hand and took a deep breath, willing her heart to slow.

No one had followed her from the hotel to her apartment. No unmarked car sat downstairs in view of the front door to her building. She was completely unprotected.

Claude meowed his greeting and rubbed his ear against the side of her leg. She kissed the cat’s head and pulled him into her lap.

When her cell phone rang again with an unknown number, she hoped it was Luc. “Hello?”

Acacia could hear movement on the other end of the line—the echoing of footsteps and then a low, gravelly voice. “Rick called. Where are you?”

Acacia’s heart quickened. “How did you get this number?”

“You listed it on your curriculum vitae. Are you hurt?” Nicholas’s tone was clipped.

“No.”

“Good.” He let out a loud exhalation. “Rick failed. No one should have gotten close enough to touch you. He said you handled yourself well, however.”

“What was Rick doing outside the hotel?”

“I asked him to keep an eye on you when the BRB pulled their surveillance.”

“They pulled their surveillance? No one told me.”

“Probably because the person doing the surveillance was paid off.”

“Why?” Acacia breathed.

The man paused. “You know why.”

Acacia shut her eyes. “Did you set this up? Is this some kind of game?”

“I’m not a thug, mademoiselle,” Nicholas snapped.

Acacia placed Claude on the floor, stood, and double-checked the locks on her door. She peered through the viewer. The hall was empty.

“Thank you for your concern, but I’m fine. Goodbye.”

“Wait!”

The footsteps that had sounded in her ear ceased, and Acacia heard a muffled sound, as if Nicholas was covering his phone with his hand.

A few seconds later, he returned. “You aren’t safe in your apartment. The man who attacked you may have followed you there. Rick is on his way.”

Acacia looked through the viewer again. “You think they’ll come here?”

“One of your assailants escaped. If he knows your work schedule, he probably knows where you live.”

“What do they want?”

Nicholas’s voice grew soft. “They want to solve a problem. I’m sorry to say it, but you appear to be that problem.

“Rick expected hotel security to intervene because they have cameras covering the back of the hotel. No one appeared, and no one called the police. The man Rick wrestled with had a gun.”

“They had guns?” Acacia slumped against the door.

“Yes.”

She made a noise in her throat. “I spoke to one of the security guards before I started my shift. He let me park my motorcycle behind the dumpsters, even though it’s against the rules.”

“Precisely.”

“He told them.” She placed her hand on her forehead. “He told them where I parked and then sat back and watched.”

“You have to leave Paris.” Nicholas’s tone grew urgent. “Rick will escort you to the airport, and one of my men will accompany you to Geneva. You’ll be safe there.”

“Is this what happened to Marcel? Hotel security told someone when Marcel was off duty and where his motorcycle was parked?”

“I don’t know.” Nicholas breathed a heavy sigh. “It’s possible.”

“If I go to work tonight, I’ll end up like Marcel.” She tugged at her hair. “If I don’t go, I’ll lose my job and my work permit.”

Monsieur Cassirer made an exasperated noise. “I can put a security detail on you, but Roy will ban them from the hotel, and you’ll be unprotected. They underestimated you this morning; they won’t repeat that mistake.”

“You want to help me get out of Paris?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Nicholas lowered his voice. “I don’t want your blood on my conscience.”

Acacia felt a chill travel down her spine as she remembered what had happened to Riva Cassirer.

She heard footsteps through the telephone. There was a pause and they began again. Nicholas was pacing.

“The hotel isn’t safe. If security saw Rick this morning, they’ll discover his connection with Pierre Breckman. Whoever is looking for you will start looking for me. I’m not waiting until I’m found.”

“You think they’ll come after you?”

“I’m not sure what they want. But if you quit the hotel, they may wash their hands of you.”

It’s the journal, Acacia thought. There’s only one book these men would want, and that’s Marcel’s journal. The security cameras in the lobby must have caught me retrieving it.

Acacia didn’t share her realization with Nicholas. She listened to his pacing and his agitated breathing. He wasn’t giving up.

Claude looked up at her and meowed.

“What’s that?” Nicholas almost barked.

“That’s my cat.”

“She has a cat,” he murmured. “Of course she does.”

He cleared his throat. “You can take your chances at the hotel, but since you can’t rely on their security, you’ll be at risk. You can go to the police, but again, it will only be a matter of time before the persons who are after you elude the police. It’s possible they’ve already paid off the BRB.”

Acacia picked up Claude. “If you’re worried they’ll come after you, then we have a common enemy.”

“All the more reason for us to work together.”

Acacia buried her face in Claude’s fur.

Fatigue began to overtake her as the adrenaline in her system waned. She could call Luc, but he’d involve the BRB. At this point, she couldn’t trust them. They’d left her unprotected precisely at the moment she’d been attacked.

An ugly memory flashed through her mind. Acacia remembered a previous attack that had almost been successful. She’d escaped and fled Rio for Recife.

Paris was supposed to be safe.

If she wanted to continue living and working in France, she had to avoid both her attackers and the police. Remaining at Hotel Victoire and involving Luc would jeopardize that. And there was the small matter that she still had Marcel’s journal. She could be charged with obstruction and possibly sent back to Brazil.

The enemy of my enemy is my ally, she thought. At least for now.

“All right.” She shut her eyes in resignation.

The sound of Nicholas’s pacing ceased. “Rick will arrive at your apartment shortly. I’ll meet you in Geneva. Call me if there’s trouble.”

“Fine.” Acacia was angry. She didn’t like feeling powerless.

“And Acacia,” Nicholas’s tone was grave, “remove everything you value from your apartment. If they decide to look for you there, they won’t be gentle.”

She whispered her acquiescence and ended the call.

Claude meowed at her again. She hugged him tightly.

What have I done?