The Ugly Duckling

  “Be careful,” she said impulsively.

  Nicholas raised an eyebrow. “Concern? Does this mean I’m forgiven?”

  “No, but I never said I wanted you hurt.”

  “Then I’ll have to be grateful for small favors.”

  She went to the door to watch them leave. The Volkswagen barreled down the winding two-lane road and was out of sight in minutes.

  She was alone.

  The solitude would be good for her, she told herself. It would give her time to think, to plan. She hadn’t really been alone in months. Nicholas had been there, talking to her, teaching her, making love to her.… No, not love, sex. Love had never been mentioned between them.

  But sometimes it had seemed like love.

  Which was why it was good she had been jarred out of that relationship. She and Nicholas were different as night and day. He had made it clear what he wanted from her, and it was not commitment. There could be no future with a man like him.

  Future?

  For the first time she realized she was thinking beyond Maritz. Was that a sign she was beginning to heal?

  Possibly. It was too soon to tell, but, if she was healing, she owed it as much to Nicholas as time itself.

  He had lied to her, he had hurt her, he had healed her.

  She was thinking too much about Nicholas. It was safer not to think of him at all.

  Sixteen

  “Pardeau is scared to death,” Jamie said as he got back in the car at 412 St. Germain. “He won’t be easy.”

  “Money?” Nicholas asked. He started the car and drove toward the Seine.

  “He’s tempted, but he heard what happened to Simpson. He says that Gardeaux knows I’ve been in touch with him and he doesn’t want me to come there anymore.” He shook his head. “I thought I might have him the last time I talked to him, but something’s changed. He’s jumpy.”

  “Which means?”

  Jamie shrugged. “I’m not sure. All he’d say was that there was no way he could give up the records now. No matter where he hid, Gardeaux would never stop searching for him.”

  “So what’s different?” Then Nicholas answered himself. “He’s been given information that could hurt Gardeaux more than just the exposure of his usual business transactions.”

  “That’s my guess.” Jamie smiled. “But I was able to purchase one bit of information that might interest you. Two days ago Pardeau was ordered to delete the Maritz account. Gardeaux said that he was no longer on the payroll.”

  Gardeaux had cast his principal demon into outer darkness. Or maybe he had deleted Maritz in more than the numerical sense. No, Maritz wasn’t a great intellect, but he had instinct and cunning. Nicholas would bet that he’d gone underground. “I want to know where—”

  “We’re being followed,” Jamie interrupted. “Two cars back.”

  Nicholas stiffened as he glanced in the rearview mirror. He located the two headlights, but in the darkness he couldn’t determine the make or color of the car. “How long?”

  “Since we left Pardeau’s flat. A dark green Mercedes. It pulled out from the curb a half block behind us.”

  “A tail on Pardeau?”

  “Maybe. But why leave his surveillance to follow us?”

  No reason. Unless Pardeau was right and Gardeaux was waiting for him to be contacted again. Nicholas wasn’t worried. Gardeaux liked to keep tabs on him, and he’d been followed before. Usually it didn’t matter, but now that he’d learned what he came to find out, he wanted to get back to Nell.

  “Do we try to lose them?” Jamie asked.

  Nicholas nodded. “They’ll know the city better than we do, but there are a lot of side roads in the hills outside the city.” He pressed his foot on the accelerator. “Let’s go see if we can find one.”

  He was five miles into the hills when he realized that the Mercedes was not tailing him.

  It was pursuing him.

  The Mercedes was practically on top of them and bearing down at full speed.

  It rammed into their rear bumper.

  “Christ.”

  “Not a good place,” Jamie said grimly as he glanced around the hilly terrain. “If we go off anywhere along here, we’ll end up bouncing two hundred feet down an embankment. Where are those side roads when you need them?”

  The Mercedes rammed them again.

  Nicholas floored the accelerator and the Volkswagen leapt ahead.

  “You can’t keep ahead of them,” Jamie pointed out. “The Mercedes has more power. Not to mention it’s built like a tank.”

  “I know that.” The attack was pointed and lethal. This wasn’t supposed to happen, dammit.

  The Mercedes was overtaking them. There was no escaping it. Nicholas could fight it off for a few more times, but eventually the Mercedes would blast them off the road.

  All right. If they were going off the road, it was better for him to choose the spot than leave the option to them.

  “Unfasten your seat belt.”

  Jamie unsnapped the seat-belt catch.

  The Mercedes’s front bumper hit their left side.

  The Volkswagen skidded and Nicholas narrowly avoided leaving the highway. Jamie cursed as his head struck the side window. He rubbed his temple. “If you’re going to do much of that, I’m going to fasten my seat belt again.”

  “Not if you want to get out of here alive. We’re going over the side.”

  “I gathered that. Where?”

  “The next curve. The incline doesn’t seem as steep there. I’ll aim the car for the edge of the road and we jump. Get your hand on the passenger doorknob. I’ll try to slow down as much as possible, but they’ll be right behind us and I don’t want them to know we’re not in the car.”

  The curve was just ahead.

  Nicholas floored the accelerator and the car leapt forward. The Mercedes was left behind.

  “I’m not sure this is such a good idea,” Jamie murmured.

  Nicholas released his seat belt. “Neither am I.”

  They were rounding the curve. He jammed on the brakes and the car fishtailed.

  “Now I know this isn’t a good idea,” Jamie gasped.

  Nicholas turned the steering wheel toward the edge of the road and flung open his car door. “Jump!”

  The Volkswagen careened off the road and hurtled down the incline.

  The first bump threw Nicholas out the open door.

  So much for jump—

  He couldn’t breathe. The fall had knocked the air out of him. He was rolling down.

  Where was Jamie?

  He could see the headlights of the Volkswagen as it bounced down the hillside toward the valley.

  He grabbed a bush and held on tight. His gaze fastened on the road above.

  He could see the lights of the Mercedes. It was parked at the edge of the road.

  Three men were looking down.

  At the car or at him?

  It was too dark for them to see him. They had to be looking at the Volkswagen.

  The car had come to rest at the bottom of the hill. Would they go down and check it out?

  He caught the glint of light on the barrel of an automatic weapon.

  The sound of the bullets was drowned out by the explosion of the Volkswagen. The car was instantly enveloped in flames.

  Very clean. Mission accomplished.

  Follow-up?

  No, they were getting back in the Mercedes.

  Not clean at all. Lazy.

  Thank God.

  A few minutes later Nicholas could no longer see the beam of the headlights.

  Where the hell was Jamie?

  “Nick?”

  Relief surged through him at Jamie’s cautious whisper. Jamie was above him on the incline.

  “Here.” Nicholas released the bush and began wriggling up the hill. “Are you okay?”

  “My right side hurts like hell. You?”

  “I’m alive. I wouldn’t have given very much for our chances of that ten minutes ago.
”

  “Now you tell me.”

  Jamie was lying under an overhanging rock formation only ten feet from the road. Nicholas reached him. “I didn’t want to discourage you. Were you close enough to see who they were?”

  “I recognized the one with the automatic. Rivil.”

  One of Gardeaux’s hit men, one of the elite who would never be given such a menial task as surveillance of a lowly bookkeeper. He was sent out for one task only.

  “I think you’re in trouble,” Jamie said.

  Nell woke in the darkness, fully awake and in a panic.

  There was someone in the cottage.

  The sounds in the living room were soft, secretive, but undoubtedly footsteps.

  Maritz?

  How could he know they were here?

  Tania would not have been surprised.

  He really is the bogeyman.

  Nell reached over to the bedside table and closed her hand on the Lady Colt.

  She stood up and glided toward the door.

  He was still moving. Was he coming toward the bedroom?

  She couldn’t wait to find out.

  Her hand tightened on the Colt as she threw open the door and flicked on the light.

  Nicholas was standing at the sink.

  His head and face were covered with blood.

  “Would you mind pointing that gun somewhere else? I’m still not very confident of your ability in that area.” He turned on the faucet. “I tried not to wake you, but I suppose it was—”

  “What happened to you?”

  “We were run off the road.” He was splashing his face with water. “I’m afraid Hertz is going to have to buy a new Volkswagen.”

  “Jamie?”

  “I think he’s all right. He got a bad knock in the ribs. I stopped a car on the highway and dropped him off at the closest hospital for X rays.”

  “Why the devil didn’t they keep you too? You look like you need a new head.”

  “I wanted to get back. Everything was crazy tonight. It shouldn’t have happened. I wanted to make sure they hadn’t found out where I’d moved you.”

  “They?” she whispered. “Gardeaux?”

  “Jamie recognized his man Rivil. I don’t know who else was in the car.”

  “Sit down and let me look at your head.”

  “You don’t have to bother. I’m used to patching myself up.”

  “Oh, then if it needs stitches, I’ll just hand you my sewing kit.”

  “Is it kind to be sarcastic when I rushed here to—”

  “Sit down.” She crossed the room and shoved him into a chair at the table. “Let me clean it properly.” She filled a basin at the sink and grabbed a kitchen towel. “If the car was destroyed, how did you get here?”

  “I hitched a ride with a farmer at the hospital.” As she started to clean the blood from his face, he added, “All this isn’t necessary, you know. I’m not badly hurt.”

  “You’re right. It’s nothing,” she said as she finally reached the cut on his hairline. Lord, her hands were shaking. “You must bleed easily.”

  “Actually, it’s not blood at all. I bought a bottle of catsup on the way back. Terence always used to tell me that the best way to get a woman’s sympathy was to bleed a little.”

  “He was wrong. I don’t feel at all sorry for you.”

  “Sure you do. You’re paler than I am.” He smiled up at her. “Works every time.”

  She was beginning to feel sick, suffocated. “You obviously don’t need my help.” She threw the towel down. “And I need some air.”

  She slammed the door shut behind her, then stopped to take a deep breath. The air was cold and she welcomed its bite.

  “You’ve chosen the wrong place to be if blood makes you sick.” Nicholas came toward her.

  She took a step back. “I just needed some air. Blood doesn’t make me sick.”

  “You could have fooled me.”

  “I thought you said you were safe from Gardeaux.”

  “It appears I was mistaken.”

  “Why were you attacked? What happened to that fine insurance policy?”

  “Maybe someone canceled it.”

  “You mean Sandequez is dead.”

  “It’s the logical conclusion.”

  “Why are you so calm about it? Gardeaux tried to kill you tonight.” She started walking faster. “And he’ll try again, won’t he?”

  “At every opportunity.”

  “You’ll never be safe again.”

  “That’s not necessarily true. It just means that I have to be careful until I solidify my position.”

  “If you live that long.”

  “I stand corrected. There’s always that qualification.”

  “Stop smiling,” she said fiercely. “I don’t see anything funny about this.”

  “Neither do I. But you’re being serious enough for both of us.”

  She wanted to strike him. “That’s right. You believe in enjoying every minute to the fullest. Dammit, don’t you realize they’ve just blown up all your blasted gates and they’re going to roll right over you?”

  He was studying her. “I realize you’re very upset at the thought of my demise. I like it.”

  She didn’t like it. She didn’t want to feel the panic that had torn through her when she had first seen Nicholas that night. “What are you going to do?”

  “The same as before. But with a great deal more care.”

  “You shouldn’t even be in the same country with him.” She looked away from him. “It’s not—I don’t mind—if you don’t go through with it.”

  His smile vanished. “Have you forgotten I didn’t start this to help you? I have no intention of opting out.”

  She didn’t know if she was more frightened or relieved. “I just wanted you to know.” She paused. “Of course, you wouldn’t want to—”

  “Nell,” he said quietly. “It’s going to be all right. I just have to do some damage control.”

  Damage control. That was what Kabler had said as he looked at the burning house. Death and destruction and the ever-popular damage control.

  “Whatever you say.” She moistened her lips. “But under the circumstances I don’t think we’ll move forward as quickly as I’d like. We’d better wait for New Year’s Eve.”

  A slow smile lit his face. “If that’s what you want.”

  “It’s not what I want at all.” She turned her back on him and moved toward the cottage. “It’s what we have to do to keep you from getting killed.”

  Jamie showed up the next morning with fresh croissants and a newspaper. He gave the croissants to Nell and tossed the paper down on the table in front of Nicholas. “I told you that you were in trouble.”

  “Sandequez?”

  “Dead as a doornail. He was killed at his hacienda in the hills by the Colombian drug enforcement forces. The entire compound was wiped out.”

  “When?”

  “About three hours before we left Pardeau’s. Since there was no public news release for another eight hours, I’d say Gardeaux had advance information.”

  “Or furnished it to the authorities. Sandequez was well guarded. The police have been trying to get him for years.”

  Jamie whistled. “You mean Gardeaux served Sandequez up to them. My, my, what a nasty man.”

  “Why would he do that?” Nell asked. “Didn’t you say that Sandequez was one of the men Gardeaux works for?”

  “But I’ve been a thorn in Gardeaux’s side for a long time, and Sandequez’s removal might serve him in other ways.”

  Jamie nodded. “He might move up on the corporate ladder, so to speak, and the Colombian government had put a five-million-dollar bounty on Sandequez. That would nicely pad one of Gardeaux’s Swiss bank accounts. You think he tipped off the Colombian authorities?”

  “Possibly.” Nicholas shrugged. “At any rate, it’s a moot point. Sandequez is dead. Which means I’ll have to stay out of sight with Nell until we’re ready to move.?
??

  Nell felt a rush of relief, which she quickly tried to hide. “Remarkably sensible of you.” She carried the croissants to the microwave. “But I’ve no intention of staying out of sight. As you’ve pointed out, no one can recognize me.”

  She could feel Nicholas’s gaze on her back.

  “May I ask where you intend to go?”

  “Paris.”

  “And what do you intend to do there?”

  “Work.”

  “Where?”

  “I’m not sure. You’ll have to tell me.” She turned to face him. “Which modeling agency does Gardeaux’s mistress work for?”

  “Chez Molambre.” Nicholas was studying her face. “What do you have in mind?”

  “I need to get into the Renaissance Fest. I doubt if Gardeaux is going to issue me an invitation, and it would be risky for you to steal or forge them. The Sports Illustrated story said that there’s a fashion show every year as part of the festivities. Jacques Dumoit does a special collection, and it’s almost a certainty Gardeaux would ask him to use his mistress’s agency to furnish the models.”

  “He does.”

  “And you intend to apply at the agency.” Jamie smiled. “Ah, bright girl. We could have used her in the old days, Nick.”

  “You have no experience,” Nicholas said.

  “I’ve been to dozens of fashion shows. I’ll fake it.” She turned to Jamie. “If you can fake my credentials and arrange to have photographs taken for a portfolio.”

  “I know a photographer in Nice I can trust,” Jamie said. “Give me three days.”

  “I don’t like it,” Nicholas said.

  “I didn’t expect you to like it.” She met his gaze. “But will they hire me?”

  “You know damn well they will.” His smile was grim. “Who wouldn’t hire Helen of Troy?”

  “Good. I thought it would work. And I like the idea. There’s a sort of … justice to it.”

  “Justice?” Jamie asked.

  “She means that she got that exceptional face courtesy of Maritz and Gardeaux, and it’s only fair that she use it to gut them.”

  She should have realized that Nicholas would know exactly what she meant. Nicholas knew her so well. Too well. She took the croissants out of the oven and put them on the table. “I’m not as tall and thin as most runway models. You’ll have to make those credentials impeccable, Jamie.”