Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
“Of course.”
I’ve had more interaction with the flight crew in the last half hour than I have had this whole year. Mercy would be disgusted if she knew. First, I was made, and now I’m leaving fingerprints all over this woman’s memory. I’ll have to avoid this airline if I ever have another job in France.
I check my emails to see that Mercy has me booked into Georgia’s hotel. “No rooms are assigned yet, but I put notes in hers as well as yours that you want a street view on a floor above floor three. There are only five floors, and the top one is the presidential suites, so you should both be booked on the fourth floor. If necessary, I’ll move the rooms. Her full name is Olivia Georgia Newman. She’s 26. Lives alone in a one-bedroom apartment that she rents. At least that’s the only one in her name. She probably has others under different aliases, but I haven’t found them yet. There’s a code attached to her room, and I’m not sure what it means. I’ll keep digging. Au revoir!”
I tuck the information into the back of my head and review my game plan for my mark. The man is a Parisian lawyer who has been helping to traffic guns that are supposed to go to the French Legionnaires but are being diverted to a mercenary group aligned with Russia. I’m not to take him lightly as he is a former Legionnaire himself—a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Mercy’s dossier includes all of his financials, his work schedule, and his known acquaintances.
He’s been seeing an up-and-coming designer and is funding her current collection. They have a stormy relationship, and he’s known to have cheated on her several times. It’s only a matter of time before someone sticks a knife in his gullet. I’ll make it look like a crime of passion. A knife from his own kitchen or maybe a wine bottle to the head. I’ll make that call when I’m at the scene. Paris shuts down between three and seven, and that’s the time a man would meet his lover.
As for Georgia, I’ll want to plant eyes and ears in her room. I send an email asking for a floor plan. A streetside room would make it difficult for me to get into her place from the outside, so I’ll need to look at the HVAC system. In those old Paris buildings, there usually are no ducts. It’s radiators and in-room air conditioners in the more lux places. If there’s no convenient way into her room, I’ll have to run up a disguise. Cable or Wi-Fi tech is the easiest. I have a service uniform that I had planned to use for the lawyer, but it’ll work for Georgia too.
Once I have my eyes and ears planted, I can make the decision as to how I’m going to handle Georgia. Who knows, maybe I’m open to being recruited if she’d be my boss.
Chapter
Four
GEORGIA
“I think I had too much champagne.” I wobble to my feet to get to my bag. Oh, I need my phone to find the address of my hotel.
“I’ve got it.” Ryan pulls my bag down from the overhead bin for me. He’s been overly nice, but there is something about him that rubs me the wrong way.
“Thanks.” I take the handle as the door to the plane opens so we can all deboard. The line moves pretty quickly as we file out. As soon as I clear the gate door, I see that there’s a bathroom straight ahead. I breathe a sigh of relief, thankful that I can make my escape for a few moments. “It was nice meeting you,” I tell Ryan before I try to dart into the bathroom.
“I’ll wait for you. We can share a car to the hotel.” Crap. I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.
“Right.” I force a smile, going into the bathroom. I make it a point to take my time and wait an extra five minutes before I exit. Relief fills me when I don’t see Ryan. Maybe he went into the men’s room. I quickly try to get far enough away before he comes out, hoping he doesn’t have luggage to claim. I attempt to pack light, but I’m terrible at it.
I rub my eyes when I finally get through customs to find my bag. I yawn, hoping the hotel isn’t too far. Someone brushes against me, grabbing my attention.
“Sorry, did you drop this?” the handsome dark-haired man asks. I swear I’ve met him before. I’m sure of it. But I can’t place him. He holds my phone out to me.
“Oh, thank you.” I take it from him. “I would be lost without it.”
“You should be more careful.” His tone is ominous.
“Do I know you?” I don’t know if it’s because I’ve had too many drinks, but I reach up and try to touch a small scar under his left jaw. He catches my hand by the wrist before I can. “Sorry.” I try to pull my hand back, but he doesn’t let go.