French Connection Vol. 3 by M. S. Parker Read Free Book Online Page B

couldn't see details, but the glimpse of shimmering blue told me a pool was out there. Judging by how far we'd driven and the direction we were facing, it was a safe bet that at least the second story had a beautiful ocean view.
    The interior was full of expensive looking art work and sculptures I was pretty sure were worth ten times more than what Gavin and I had in our apartment back home. With each one, I wondered how many people she'd had to sell or how many tricks she'd had to force girls to turn just to get another painting for her fucking wall.
    After my second glass of champagne, I excused myself to the restroom. I considered trying to sneak past the guards at the stairs or try to convince them to let me go upstairs, but I decided against it. It wasn't like Alizee would be keeping a couple of Russian prostitutes under the bed or in the linen closet. Knowing her expensive tastes was enough for me to make a mental note to tell Pierre to look into Alizee's finances.
    I squeezed Gavin's arm and he gave me a warm smile before I walked away in search of a bathroom. I found it easily enough and shook my head at the opulence while I did my business. Once I was finished, I started back for the main room. Maybe Vincent would be here by now and he could let us know what we needed to do to get this ball rolling. I didn't want to pretend to be glad to be here any longer than necessary.
    I'd barely made it two steps down the hallway when Alizee appeared, flanked by two men even bigger than the ones who'd been guarding the stairs. I stopped where I was, my instincts telling me something bad was about to go down.
    One of the men tried to grab my purse and it fell to the floor. Along with it a bracelet I’d never seen before.
    “I invite you into my house and you steal from me?” Alizee made a tsking sound as she picked up the bracelet. “That is not a nice thing to do.”
    “I didn't steal anything, Alizee.” I kept my voice calm and even, as if I thought this was only a matter of mistaken identity or a misunderstanding. Inwardly, I was trying not to panic. Images of the two girls Pierre had shown me flashed through my mind.
    “Really?” she asked. She held up the bracelet that sparkled in the hall light.
    It was a diamond bracelet, and knowing what I did about her, I didn't doubt for a moment that it was real.
    “How come this was in your purse,” she continued. “My security will testify to that.”
    “I didn't take that, and you know it.” My hands clenched into.
    She shook her head, a wicked smile spreading across her face. “I think we need to put you somewhere while we wait for the police to come.” She looked up at the darker of the two men and rattled something off in French before adding, for my benefit, “She will not cause you any trouble.”
    Like hell I wouldn't. I was already trying to figure out the best way kick while wearing a dress.
    “If she does, I might be forced to think Gavin had something to do with this as well.”
    I scowled at her. “No one will believe you. It's your word against ours.”
    “You are correct that it will be your word against mine, but many will believe me. After all, you Americans are always coming in and taking what is not yours.” She handed the diamond bracelet to the guard on her left. “Perhaps it is time someone did the same to you.”
    “I'm not the type of person you can make disappear,” I said as the men took a step toward me. I chose my words carefully. “Gavin won't leave here without me and Vincent knows we're both here. People back in New York know we're here.”
    She shrugged. “Perhaps you will see the error of your ways and confess, though that would make it likely no one would believe you about any future accusations.” She took a step toward me, a predatory gleam in her eyes.
    “I wouldn't hold my breath,” I said, standing firm.
    “I would consider it, if I were you,” she countered. “Because accidents do happen. And not just accidents.