The Red Ledger: 8 Page 3

  “If that’s what you think is best. I plan to be at the bar at seven,” Mateus says. “It should be busy enough for Isabel to go unnoticed. If not, we’ll improvise.”

  Bloodred curtains frame the threshold of La Réserve. Night has fallen, but the street is busy with traffic and pedestrians. All the activity has my attention pinging everywhere. My heart rate has gone up a few notches at the prospect of being recognized, even though I’ve been able to pull this off so many times before.

  Tristan takes my hand, halting our forward movement toward the entrance. “I’m going to wait out here,” he says, his voice low enough that the doorman ahead can’t hear us. “Stay out of Knight’s line of sight, and text me if anyone moves.”

  I shake out my free hand, attempting to steady my nerves.

  His gaze travels the length of me. When our eyes meet, he gives one of the curls from my wig a little pull, letting it spring back into place a second later.

  “Do I look okay?” Unlike nearly every other time I’ve gone into a situation like this, I’m aiming for understated, which means a simple black sweater over black pants and a wig I hope does more to obscure my face than bring attention to it.

  “You look good,” he says with a confidence that manages to soothe me. “Keep me posted every step of the way, all right?”

  I nod and head toward the doorman, who greets me and gestures for me to proceed inside.

  The reception area is gleaming and glittery with slick marble and ornate lamps. Hoping not to attract any attention, I pretend like nothing here is new to me and meander farther inside until I find the bar.

  My heart takes residence in my throat as I quickly scan the room. Mateus is at the far end on a long red couch that faces the rest of the room, one leg crossed over the other, his posture relaxed and friendly. He’s not alone. Another man sits adjacent, his body turned away from me as he speaks to Mateus. All I can see is the back of his reddish-blond hair and his navy suit straining around his thick body. I pray he doesn’t bother looking my way and that I don’t garner attention from either man. I do my best to appear casual on my journey, relieved when Mateus doesn’t make eye contact.

  I move closer and take a nearby chair, my back to them, and then pull out my phone and shoot off a text to Tristan.

  I’m in. They’re here.

  “I’m sorry Simon couldn’t make it,” Mateus says. “I’ve enjoyed getting to know him. He’s…very unique. I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone quite like him.”

  Knight laughs loudly. “And you never will. No one really knows Simon. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him with his guard down. But he’s a good person to have on your team.”

  “I can see that. Few men are better connected, or influential, than he seems to be.”

  Knight clears his throat. “He said you were in Miami for the cruise a few weeks ago. I must have missed you.”

  “There were a lot of new faces. An enjoyable night.”

  “You must have made an impression on Simon for him to want to cut you in on what we’ve been working on.”

  Mateus’s silence makes me wish I could see his face. There’s a hint of defensiveness in Knight’s tone, like he may not be completely convinced of Mateus’s worthiness.

  “No one was more surprised than me,” Mateus answers calmly. “He’s very persuasive, though. I’m always looking to diversify when it makes sense.”

  “We’ve been working on this for a long time. We’re talking about years of planning. You’re lucky getting to come in on the tail end of it all.”

  “Sounds like it’s the beginning, not the end.”

  Knight pauses. “Right. Well, Simon has discriminating tastes. He demands the best of everything. Never settles. So if you’re good in Simon’s book, I suppose you’re good in mine.” I hear his chair squeak with movement. “So, is this a go? If there’s one thing Simon isn’t, it’s patient.”

  “He assured me I’d have a few days to consider.”

  “We’ll be out of here in a few days. I was hoping we could nail this down tonight.”

  Knight sounds like he’s the impatient one. He talks fast, like he’s already thinking about the next place he has to be. I’m holding my breath, waiting for Mateus’s answer, when I hear the crinkling of paper.

  “Here’s the deal,” Knight continues. “We’ll start small and scale up once we know things are going well. Hundred-thousand-dollar increments give or take. You let me know the account to wire it into, hold three percent for yourself, and wire the rest into this account in the Cayman Islands. Rinse and repeat.”

  “That part is simple enough. What about the rest? If you’ve been working on this for years, I can’t deny I’m apprehensive to understand the scope of it.”

  Knight sighs, a loud exaggerated sound. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a hard sell?”

  “In so many words.”

  “Why am I not surprised?”

  Mateus laughs softly. “I was born in a town near the border of the states of São Paulo and Rio de Janeiro. Before my parents were killed and my sister and I were forced to go to the city, we would go to a nearby river for fun. It was rocky. The water moved fast, and it was refreshing on a hot day. The biggest thrill was jumping off one of the highest rocks into the deepest part of the river. You had to know the exact spot to jump in, or you’d break your leg on the rocks—or worse. My friends would harass me every time we went, taunting me to jump. I wasn’t afraid, but I’d seen some people get hurt. I wasn’t going to leap in and hope for the best. I wanted to be sure.”

  “So did you do it?”

  “I did eventually. Straight as an arrow, not a scratch.”

  Knight is quiet for a moment. “You have any plans tonight? Because if you’re free, I’d like to show you something.”

  “What might that be?”

  “A piece of the operation. An important one. I could tell you about it, but I think you should see it for yourself. It’s not far. About twenty minutes outside the city. It’s usually locked down for operations, but security is light tonight because of something else we’re working on. It’s a good time to give you the tour without any prying eyes.” He pauses a moment. “Might make you feel a little better about jumping in.”

  “Very well,” Mateus says. “I’ll call my driver.”

  TRISTAN

  I’m pacing down the street, waiting for another update from Isabel, when I hear my name. She’s rushing down the front walk toward me.

  “Is everything okay? What’s going on?”

  “They’re leaving,” she says breathlessly. “Knight wants to show Mateus something. They’re taking Mateus’s car.”

  “Do you know where they’re going?”

  “No idea. He says it’s part of the operation. Something that will help Mateus make up his mind.”

  After a quick glance toward the door, I swing my gaze toward the street and the passing cars. In the distance, I see a taxi with its sign lit. I grab Isabel’s hand and take her with me as I hail down the black sedan. We slide into the back, and only then do I realize I have no instructions to give the driver or language skills with which to do it.

  Through the windshield, I see Mateus walking casually toward the curb, Knight beside him. They’re smiling and talking, like all of this is perfectly normal. Ford appears, his frame towering over the other two men before guiding them into the SUV.

  “Suivez cette voiture,” Isabel says, pointing ahead to where Mateus’s car is pulling away.

  Our driver acknowledges her with a dismissive grunt and follows.

  Isabel tugs the wig off her head and runs her hands through her flattened hair.

  “What happened in there?”

  “Mostly small talk. Knight is eager to seal the deal, but Mateus is still holding out. I get the feeling Knight is under instruction to make sure this goes down no matter what. He seemed pretty confident that after tonight, Mateus would be on board.”

  I worry that Mateus might be testing their patience or
causing unnecessary suspicion. He’ll have to agree at some point, likely tonight. Coming to Paris was an invitation to move deeper into the Company’s world, one we have to take advantage of. Once he accepts, the rest is up to me.

  After a few minutes, the taxi speeds up. We merge into a congested roundabout that’s loud with motorcycles and car horns. Mateus’s SUV is still in sight when we’re forced to a near stop behind a group of cars slowing down to catch a close-up view of the Arc de Triomphe.

  The taxi driver’s curses meet our ears as he slams his hand on the wheel.

  “Fucking tourists,” I mutter, figuring we have the same frustrations in mind.

  Isabel peers out the window, her eyes lifted to the monstrous glowing arch where a dozen boulevards converge. Despite this delay, the landmark is awe-inspiring, breathtaking in its sheer size and design. I’d love to enjoy her wonder and even share in the moment, but Mateus’s car is quickly moving out of sight.

  “Whatever you do, do not lose that car,” I shout in plain English.

  This earns me a narrow look from the driver before he hits the gas, cuts someone off, and swerves dangerously around the slower-moving vehicles until we’re back where we need to be, thankfully exiting this chaotic cluster.

  As we near the outskirts of the city, the journey becomes less crowded.

  I take note of every sign along every highway, mentally orienting us but having no idea where Knight could be taking Mateus. They’re a couple of cars ahead, but easy enough to follow as we turn down a street lined with glassy corporate buildings.

  As if he knows we’re not supposed to be seen, the taxi driver hangs back, braking as the SUV in front of us does.

  One of the new, sleek buildings is bigger than the others, with angular lines and turquoise-tinted glass sides. Bright-white letters beam from the top-floor windows.

  Chalys France

  Isabel’s jaw drops. “Chalys… My God, they’re everywhere.”

  “They’re a multibillion-dollar company. With everything they’re putting into this, they’ll want Felix available all over the world, along with anything else they’re slinging.”

  Mateus’s car turns into the main entrance, where his driver punches in a code, and they pull through the gates.

  “Go around the block,” I say.

  The driver doesn’t acknowledge me but follows my instructions and takes us to the other side of the building.

  “Drop us here.”

  The driver hits the brakes, lurching us forward abruptly. I shove fifty euros into his hand before he can update the fare. I think we’ve both worn out our welcome with each other. Still, he catches me in the rearview and nods his thanks.

  Once we’re outside, the taxi speeds off. Isabel watches him leave. I can see the wheels turning in her mind. How will we get back?

  Peering up at the building, I’m more concerned with how we’re going to get inside. With Knight, Mateus will be able to walk right in. We’re not that lucky, but I’m not waiting around for him to come back out.

  “Here. Let me help you.” I urge her toward the fence, grateful she’s wearing one of her more practical outfits so I can hoist her easily over the top. She lands on the other side with a soft thud. I follow her over.

  As we cross the parking lot, I spot the loading docks on the south side of the building. All are closed except for the one closest to us, giving us a perfect place to slip inside undetected. We’re nearly at the opening when the sound of a man talking stops me in my tracks. I look back to Isabel and press my finger to my lips.

  I creep slowly forward, peeking inside the bay of the dock to catch a glimpse of the man. He’s leaning against the threshold of a doorway, a lanyard around his neck.

  He laughs every once in a while. We don’t move, don’t make a sound, until finally he pushes off the jamb and disappears farther inside, his voice fading away with him.

  It’s now or never.

  I take Isabel’s hand and guide her to follow me. I lift her onto the ledge. She stays crouched in place as I move silently forward. Beside the door, a thin coat is draped over a hook. I dip into the pockets and find a ring of keys. Bingo.

  I peer around the edge of the doorway. Not seeing the man, I wave Isabel closer.

  We’re in.

  We move fast then. Down one hall and then another. The building seems to be deserted in the off hours. Wherever Mateus is, he’s probably alone with Knight, hopefully gaining intel and nothing worse. Having access to one of the Chalys facilities is an opportunity I wasn’t expecting.

  Isabel may be holding on to hope the drugs they’re pushing can fill an unmet need, but I’m not convinced. If I can find more vulnerabilities, I will, and this is a great place to start.

  “This place is huge. They could be anywhere,” Isabel says in a hushed voice.

  “The surveillance room should be on the ground floor somewhere. Probably close to the front.”

  “Tristan, here.” Isabel grabs my arm, pointing to a sign on the door we nearly passed.

  Personnel Autorisé Seulement

  “How the hell do you do that?” I mumble, reaching for the keys.

  “Latin-based languages are easier than others. Here, let me try.”

  I hand them to her when a loud slam echoes through the huge open foyer ahead. The echo dies down, leaving an eerie, empty silence.

  “What was that?” she whispers.

  “Not sure. I’m going to investigate.”

  “No, you’re not.” She squeezes my arm, her hazel eyes storming with worry. “We should stay together.”

  “I’m sure everything is fine,” I say in the most even tone I can manage.

  “Which is it, Tristan? Is Mateus in danger or not?”

  She knows I’m placating her. In my defense, we weren’t expecting the night to lead us here. Letting her be in a hotel bar with Knight is a lot different than letting her wander around this huge facility. He could be anywhere.

  “Try to get in there and figure out where they are. If I can’t find them, you will.”

  She’s about to argue with me again, so I cup the back of her head and seal my lips over hers. The silence around us offers no distractions, so I sacrifice a few more seconds to kiss her until we’re both out of breath. What the hell is a life of death and danger if I can’t let myself drown in the woman I love in the spaces between?

  She blinks up at me, flushed but still holding me with her beautiful gaze. “You think you can kiss me senseless and then get away with whatever you want?”

  I grin. “I don’t know. Can I?”

  “Not a chance,” she answers without missing a beat.

  I wish I could prove her right, but I don’t know what we’re getting into. I’m not taking risks…not when it comes to her.

  “Don’t worry. I can handle Knight.”

  She softens a fraction. Enough that when I start to walk away, she lets me go.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Isabel

  Watching Tristan walk away makes me faintly nauseated. Kissing him was a welcome distraction, but the reality that we’re facing danger and uncertainty once more quickly overrode the moment.

  Tonight isn’t going anything how I thought it would. Mateus was supposed to give Knight the answer he wanted. Because he didn’t, we’re on a wild goose chase through Chalys’s French headquarters. Tristan’s right about one thing. With the money flowing through their corporation, they probably have locations all over the globe. I’m not convinced that is the only reason they’re in Paris, though.

  I try one key after the next, my hands shaking as I do. I swear I’ve tried nearly every single one on the ring before the lock finally gives. Inside the control room, two walls are lined with screens broadcasting black-and-white video. Each one is streaming surveillance of key areas of the building. I jump when the door latches closed behind me. I take a deep breath and go to the desk, leaning in to get a better look.

  Only one of the screens is showing movement.

  Kni
ght is walking Mateus through what looks like an empty research lab on the fifth floor. Knight is laughing a lot. His gestures are exaggerated. He must be going for the hard sell at this point. Mateus wears a steady, measured expression. His hands are tucked casually into his pockets, which could mean anything. His calm exterior is one of his greatest assets.

  I release a grateful sigh. For now, he’s safe. Now I just need to find Tristan, except he’s managed to avoid all the cameras, leaving his whereabouts unknown. I should be surprised, but I’m not.

  I pull out my phone and text him.

  Fifth floor. They’re just talking. No problems.

  I wait for him to answer, glancing up to follow Mateus’s meandering tour through nearby rooms.

  A flicker of movement near the back of the building catches my eye. The man at the loading dock has paced into view. He’s still on the phone, which means he’s not looking for his keys yet. As badly as we may have wanted to get into Chalys to see what they’ve been up to, right now I can’t wait to get out.

  I look down at my phone. Tristan hasn’t answered, so I text him again.

  Where are you?

  I’m cursing him for leaving me now. I recognized that familiar glimmer of determination in his eyes—steel will to keep me safe no matter how much we’ve endured together.

  My phone chimes, offering a shot of relief until I read his reply.

  Get out.

  I have trouble taking in my next breath.

  Get out?

  Is he serious?

  My heart is beating wildly, hammering in my chest so hard I can hear the blood thrumming in my ears. Panicked, I search the wall of screens for any clues to where Tristan may be. He has to be somewhere. How could he have disappeared that quickly?