Malgreave rose, stubbing out his cigarette. “One thing’s for sure—this won’t be a day spent sitting on our tails. We’ll check out Bonnard’s apartment, see if there’s anything inside to tell us where he might be, where the Américaine would have gone to. And then we’ll head over to Guillère’s pigsty and see what we can come up with.”
“We?” Josef echoed.
“The three of us, Josef,” Malgreave said gently. “Unless you’d rather stay behind and deal with paperwork?”
“I’m coming,” he said fiercely. And the telephone transcripts remained unnoticed on his desk as he followed Malgreave out into the early-morning streets.
The sky was just beginning to lighten when Tom pulled the car to a stop. Claire moved, stretching her cramped body, and to her relief Nicole did the same. The child yawned, opening her puffy eyes, and then a sudden tremor of panic shook the slight body. Until she focused on Claire, and the tension drained from her narrow little shoulders.
She said something in French, in a low, sleepy voice, and Claire bent her head down to listen. “In English, darling,” she said.
“Where are we?”
Claire looked up, meeting Tom’s gaze. “I haven’t the faintest idea. Somewhere far away, where Marc can’t find us.”
“Bon,” said Nicole, shutting her eyes again.
By then Tom had opened the back door and lifted the drowsy child into his arms. Nicole stiffened again, then relaxed. She looked very small and slight indeed against Tom’s broad frame, and Claire scrambled after her, her face still creased with worry.
Tom hadn’t exaggerated when he said he was taking them to a bleak and barren spot. Even in the predawn light she could see the dryness, the rocky soil where grapes couldn’t grow.
The building looked oddly like an American ranch house—long and low with a porch running along the front of it. It was built from stone, however, as were the various outbuildings looming through the gray shadows, and the interior, though spotless, was hardly welcoming. The night chill lingered, clinging to the thick stone, and Claire shivered, wrapping her arms around her narrow body as she followed Tom into one of the small bedrooms.
He lay Nicole gently on the bare mattress, covering her with the rough blanket that had been folded at the foot of the bed. Claire headed for the straight chair beside the bed, determined to continue her vigil, but Tom’s hand caught her, yanking her back.
“She’s fine,” he said. “She just needs to finish sleeping it off, and you’re not going to do her any good sitting there.”
“I’m not leaving her.”
“The hell you’re not.” Without another word he scooped her up, slinging her over his shoulder and carting her out the door. She considered screaming, but she didn’t want to wake Nicole, to frighten her any more than she’d already been frightened. She contented herself with pounding her fists against Tom’s strong back. He took the punishment without a sound, heading into the adjoining bedroom and tossing her down on the bed.
She immediately tried to jump up, but he simply pushed her back down again. “Stay put,” he ordered. “You can hear if Nicole makes any noise. In the meantime you need to get some sleep.”
“I can sleep later,” she said mutinously.
“I hate to bring this up, but what if Bonnard finds us? I certainly took a circuitous route getting here, but anything’s possible. Don’t you want to be rested, ready to face him if he does?”
“I don’t want to leave Nicole alone and unprotected.”
“You aren’t. I sleep very lightly—if anyone makes a sound I’ll know it. I want you to promise me you’ll stay there.”
“Where are you going?” Her voice sounded damnably plaintive, but she was too cold and too frightened to worry about it.
“First I’m going to hide the car in one of the sheds. Then I’m going to see if I can find the gun that used to be here. The vintner liked taking potshots at rabbits. And then I’m coming back in here and getting in bed with you, for the sole purpose of getting a little sleep myself.”
“Why don’t I just sit with Nicole while you’re hiding the car … ?”
“I can lock you in,” he said flatly.
“You wouldn’t.”
“I would. Lie down.” He tossed a worn quilt around her shivering body as she reluctantly complied. Leaning over her, he tucked the cover around her shoulders, and his face was very close. “You’re only a few feet away from Nicole, and she’s just fine. Stay put. Okay?”
The soft, concave bed was deceptively comfortable. Warmth was beginning to penetrate from the threadbare quilt, and there was no denying Tom was right. “Okay,” she said in a small voice.
Her reward was his smile. “Good woman,” he said, brushing his mouth against hers. “I’ll be right back.”
She watched him go, half her brain listening for Nicole’s slightest sound. “Good woman,” he’d said. Marc, Brian, most men she knew would have said, good girl. She rolled over, curling up, listening to Nicole’s steady breathing, as she considered the last few moments. The timing was all off, the situation hellish in the extreme, but there was no denying it. She’d found the man of her dreams. And for just a few hours she would put her trust in him and do what he told her.