“You know, maybe I could take over dispatching from Matteo,” I suggest. “That’s a safe way to get involved and ease Kayden into the idea of me working with him.”
“That’s also a misuse of your skills. I’ve seen you in action, and heard from others about how you handle yourself in a fight.”
“It would allow me to get to know the Hunters, the types of jobs, and the ins and outs of things. And it seems a misuse of talent to have ‘one of the best hackers on the planet’ being a dispatcher.” I laugh. “His words, not mine.”
She laughs as well. “How could I not know that?”
I make an Italian Stallion joke in French, and she gives me a surprised look. “You speak French.”
“I do,” I say. “I have no idea how I learned it or why, but I remember the language.”
“You think you’re CIA?”
“I really don’t know,” I say, but in my gut, I am certain my connection to the CIA is far greater than just my father. “I think most likely my father taught me the trade, like he did so many other things.”
“Maybe he worked in Paris,” she says. “That would mean he most certainly knew Garner’s parents, and maybe even him.”
“That’s an interesting thought,” I say, “but he’s been dead a long time. It’s not impossible, but I’m doubtful he has any real connection to any of this.” But she’s now got me thinking about my father and his murder. Could that be connected to the French mob? Could I have wanted to go to Paris to follow a lead, and that’s why I jumped on the elopement? Something about this feels more right to me than any other explanation.
“As for you doing the dispatching,” she says, thankfully changing the topic, “think about how that would consume Kayden. He needs to be thinking of the big picture. You’d pull him into the small pictures.”
“Hmmm,” I say, as the door opens. “That’s a good point.” We enter the store to find the lights have remained on, and I punch the button to lower the doors, which is mandatory for security. With the doors down, anyone who gets into the store can’t get to the rest of the castle.
“Now that the meeting is over,” she says, as we walk toward the front of the store, passing glass cases filled with collectibles, “Marabella is out of exile. You think she might be convinced to bring us food? That woman makes the best everything. Her cooking is a guilty pleasure. Well, that and Adriel. It’s a two-for-one when I’m here.”
“I’ll call her, on one condition,” I say. “You have to tell me the real scoop on you and Adriel.”
She laughs. “There’s nothing to tell,” she says, making it clear she’s not going there.
We round the counter to find Matteo sitting behind the small wooden desk, full bookshelves surrounding him, and I feel a little like I’m in a crowded elevator with the three of us in the small space. “We need the printer,” Sasha announces. “You have to find another spot to work.”
He shoves fingers through his wavy dark hair and says something to her in Italian, which she answers in English. “We’re trying to jolt her memory and find the necklace. Are you convinced to get up now?”
“That does the trick,” he says, shutting his MacBook and standing. “I’ll be in the TV room. I’m calling Marabella to bring food.”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Sasha says as he exits. “Ask her if she has any of those chocolate croissants she makes,” she calls after him, but he ignores her. “Maybe we should call ourselves.”
“She’ll take care of us,” I assure her, claiming the visitor’s seat while she sits down behind the desk and powers up the desktop.
“I’m sure you’re right,” she says, and then moves on. “Okay. I know you were at Garner’s place,
so I’ll start by printing out things around his building.” She grabs a pad and pencil and hands them to me. “Write down other locations you want me to focus on. And really, anything you remember. I’ll try to turn that into a destination and photo.”
“Chocolate shops,” I say. “I went to one the night I called Neuville for help, and I’m hoping that finding the one I visited could flip a memory switch.”
“I’ll go out on a limb here and estimate that there are about a hundred chocolate shops in Paris,” she says. “Can you narrow it down at all? Was it near his home?”
I write down the address I found inside the necklace and hand it to her. “Near this location. And I need pictures of anything and everything around this address.”
She types in the address. “Five chocolate shops within only three blocks. I’ll start printing them out.”
“What about within eight blocks? I went that far after the murder.”
“Trying to disappear,” she says. “Smart.” She keys into the computer. “Another four.” The printer begins to hum and I start writing down the places I do remember.
A few minutes later, I’m looking at a printed image of the store and street fronts for all nine shops, and I see one that I’m certain is the location I’ve been looking for. I stuff it at the back of the stack, not wanting to black out in a flashback right now.
“Anything?” Sasha asks.