Left To Die

Adele looked up, jolted, for a moment, from her worries about the case, Executive Foucault’s phone calls, and Germany’s compliance.

“Excuse me?” she said.

“I know it wasn’t fair of me. I apologize.”

Adele frowned, but then corrected her expression lest her mentor think it was directed at him. “What do you mean? There isn’t anything unfair. It was very kind of you.”

But Robert held up a quieting hand, and waited for her to dwindle into silence. “That’s accommodating of you to say. But I think we both know that your heart isn’t in France. And it is true that my house feels empty at times, but that was my choice; a choice I made years ago.”

“It’s not a choice you still have to make,” Adele said quietly with a shrug. It was a conversation she’d tried to have with him before, and one he’d masterfully avoided on many occasions.

“Perhaps not. But either way, it isn’t fair of me to put you in that position. I hope you know that I do care for you. Greatly. And I want to see you succeed. There are very few agents that I’ve worked with who are as talented as you. You’re more relentless than any of them. And more determined than even I was at your age.”

Adele smiled at this, but then fidgeted. She thought of her father, and how little chance she’d had to become accustomed to kind words, the thought propelling her into a flush of gratitude toward Robert.

“I care about you too,” she said, glancing out the window again. “You’ve been like a father to me; I hope you know that. And my heart may not be in France, but a piece of it is. I don’t know quite where I belong. I hope to figure that out. You’d think in my thirties I would have some idea.”

Robert chuckled at this, though, and shook his head. “It doesn’t get any better toward the end of sixty either. Trust me.”

Adele chuckled. She hesitated, then said, “If it’s all right with you, I would like to stay in my old room instead of that cold hotel. I don’t know how long I’ll be in France. And if the phone call with Executive Foucault goes well, Germany will be allowing us temporary jurisdiction as soon as possible. But when I return, I might have to spend a couple of nights in France still. It would be nice to have a home.”

Robert watched her for a moment, his face expressionless. For a moment, Adele wasn’t sure if she’d offended him somehow. But then she spotted the moistness in his eyes, and his right hand trembling slightly where it was tucked over his left.

“I would very much like that,” he said, clearing his throat. “There are a couple of books that I think you might like. I’ll have them placed in your room before you get there. Should I have someone retrieve your things?”

Adele shrugged. “If you’d like. It’s only really a suitcase. In fact, I haven’t even opened it yet, except for a change of clothes.”

Robert grinned, revealing his two missing teeth; his gap-toothed smile clashing with the rest of his immaculately maintained appearance. Adele allowed herself a quiet chuckle, remembering the many farfetched stories her mentor told about how he lost his teeth.

“Well,” said Robert, “I’ll—” But before he could finish his sentence, Adele felt a hand grip her shoulder.

She jolted and whirled sharply around, resisting the urge to strike out with the flat of her palm to distance herself from an attacker. Agent Renee was staring down at her, his eyes holding a mirth that Adele couldn’t quite place. But it was similar to the look he’d carried when he’d teased her about inside information pertaining to Agent Paige.

“What?” Adele snapped.

“Foucault’s off the phone. He sorted it with the BKA.”

Adele’s eyes widened. “Sorted it? What do you mean?”

John cleared his throat, and his expression soured. “I mean we’re headed to Germany. We don’t have time to pack bags. Anything we need we can buy there. But BKA is willing to work with us on this temporarily. They want to catch the guy too.”

John turned and began stalking up the hall, not waiting for Adele to fall into step.

For a moment she stood in the doorway, staring after a partner, her mouth wide. An FBI agent partnered with a DGSI operative, heading to Germany to work with the BKA, all under the supervision of Interpol. It was unheard of.

Adele shook her head in mild shock. The killer wouldn’t escape. Not this time. They were going to catch him. She knew it. They had to.

At the thought, a strange sensation came over her, like shivering after being doused with ice water. She frowned at the ominous feeling, unsure of its origin for the moment. Somehow, though, as the dreadful feeling spread, she knew that what came next wouldn’t be easy. The killer was not the sort to go down lightly. He was arrogant and dangerous; a deadly man. She would have to do her best to make sure no one else was hurt in his apprehension.

Adele glanced back over her shoulder toward Robert, raising an eyebrow. “You still think he has red hair?” she said.