Torn (Deep 8, #5)

23. Harlow

TWENTY-THREE

Harlow

The moment has come to throw myself on the sword or bluff my way out of this. Mr. Laurent paces the floor, not paying attention to me. I tap my ear comm twice, leaving an open line. As I peel away my prosthetic face, revealing my true identity, he turns to look at me and blinks several times.

"Madam Dujardin, why are you disguised as the duchess?"

"Your insurance company." I reach in my bag as if searching for something, waiting for Roger to give me the company’s name. "TEC International hired me and my colleague to breach your security protocol and identify the gaps. Unfortunately, we’ll be giving them a less than stellar report."

Outside the office door, a commotion erupts. Roger flings open the door and locks out the man who followed him. "I’m here to get my wife and colleague so we can report back to the CFO of TEC International. The breach will bring into question the insurance on the property and your holdings."

The voices grow louder outside, and the knob turns as the police try to get in, pounding on the door. Roger’s eyes never leave Mr. Laurent. "I suggest you tell the police it was a false alarm. If we’re arrested, news of this will spread like wildfire, and there is no telling what people might want to do with their money if your bank is deemed unsecure."

Mr. Laurent wipes the sweat from his forehead and nods. He steps into the hall and speaks with the police in French. The police argue, unconvinced, but end up leaving. Mr. Laurent returns to the office flexing his fingers.

"I’ll need to check out your story and search your bag." He looks at me, worried I’ll refuse. Denying him access to my bag would be a mistake. Even if the piece is in there, he may not know what he is looking at.

I hand him the bag. "Here you go. You may want to call Amalia Moreau as well. We needed her permission to use her likeness." He looks at me with a mix of disdain for not using her title and shock at my familiarity with her.

Roger excuses himself to make a call outside the office.

Mr. Laurent’s brows shoot up to his hairline. "We’ve never had an insurance company test our security system this way."

"The fingerprint scanner was a nice addition, but it needs to work on a regular basis. The machine should have been able to identify me as a client at this bank. Insurance companies are becoming more vigilant about security breaches." My fingers are in a tight grip.

He takes everything out of my bag and finds nothing, not even the piece, which means Pippa saw what was happening and switched it out after bumping into me. He puts everything back inside and hands me the bag. He taps a few numbers on his cell phone. "I’m calling her Highness," he says crisply.

Roger reenters the office as Mr. Laurent speaks French with someone on the other line. Roger squeezes my shoulder.

He ends his call. "It seems your story checks out with the duchess. I’ll need to call TEC, which may take a bit longer."

"We don’t have that kind of time. Our jet is waiting. We need to get to our next assignment. You have our information. Give us a call when you confirm our employment." Roger offers me his arm. "Shall we?"

Before Mr. Laurent has time to respond, Roger and I walk out toward the back of the bank. We keep our heads down and board the next bus, not checking its destination. The rest of the team has scattered. Roger puts his arms around me and kisses the top of my head.

"You made an excellent decision in there. Good call with the insurance company. Peter was on the other end with the name of the company." Roger’s words soothe my nerves. I wouldn’t have the confidence to make these decisions without his belief in me.

"You’re quite the actor. You had him convinced we work for an insurance company. We make a great team." I tuck my head on his shoulder. "Are you sorry you didn’t pursue an acting career?" I ask.

"No, because I wouldn’t be able to hold you in my arms."

A shiver runs through me. Doubt claws at me.

I know how this ends. We get information on where the next piece is and retrieve it. Then we go our separate ways—me back to the ASIO, and him back to off-book assignments with the U.S. government's PAX OP team. He thinks I don’t know about his real job, but Lucas loved to brag about who he knows and his military-decorated son.

The trees and mountainsides fly past as I look out the bus window. "Where are we going?"

"I don’t know. We should get off at the next stop and have a look around," Roger replies, staring out the window. "It’s beautiful here."

"Don’t we have to get back to the team and figure out the next move?" I ask, watching his face tense.

He doesn’t answer right away. "I suppose. Sometimes I want to run away from it all and go somewhere no one can find me." He turns to me and smiles. "I would take you with me, of course. How about the islands?" He kisses me deeply as if I’m his last meal before the execution.

I give as good as I get. We’re each running from a past we can’t reconcile, chased by demons we’ve created. For Roger, Lucas may be his demon. He won’t know anything until he faces the man who demands the sacrifice of his only son’s soul. I’ve experienced Lucas’s many faces. They are as interesting as they are manipulative.

We exit the bus on a street overlooking the city below. The crystal-clear sky promises an easy flight out of here to our next adventure, leaving behind the outrageous glamour of Luxembourg.

"Dean is picking us up in ten and we’ll go directly to the airport. He wasn’t happy we disappeared on him." He spreads his arms out, closes his eyes, and breathes in. "Thank you, Luxembourg. You’ve given me more than I could have hoped for."

"I’ll never forget our time here. Is Amalia on her way to Germany?" I ask, not wanting to think about what I’ll miss.

He drops his arms. "Yes, Mac said she'll introduce herself to her daughter and grandchildren. She'll have a happy ending. She also said she placed her fingerprint on the piece to unlock it. I’ll let Pippa and Peter figure that out." He puts his hands on his hips, looking out over the horizon. "Not everyone gets a happy ending." His eyes pierce me. "You and I have seen too much."

I want to say something when Dean shows up. "Get in. Next time, stay close. We have a flight to catch." His mood has darkened. We slide into the back of the mini car, and I punch Dean in the shoulder. "Ow, what was that for?" He shrinks away.

"Do you remember how many times I had to wait for you because you were in bed with some molly?"

He glares at me through the rearview mirror, then turns on his megawatt smile. "Oh, I remember some of those women. Those were good times."

Roger bats him across the back of his head. "Hey, what was that for?" Dean rubs his head.

"That’s from Leigha, your fiancée. Leave the mollies in the past where they belong."

I smile, watching Luxembourg fade away with a bittersweet taste. Roger will be a harder goodbye.