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“No,” I insist, leaning closer, my hair brushing against his shoulder. “That name—Charles Fortier. Hector introduced us once.”
Nick’s fingers pause over the keys, and he turns slightly to face me. “Where?”
I straighten, pulling back as I try to piece it together. “I don’t remember the specifics, but Hector also mentioned something about Fortier handling logistics for one of René’s deals. It was just an offhand comment, but I remember because Hector rarely talked shop around me.”
Nick’s gaze sharpens, his hazel eyes locking onto mine. “And you’re just now mentioning this?”
“Don’t you dare snap at me. It didn’t seem important at the time,” I snarl, crossing my arms. “I didn’t exactly have the luxury of sitting down to analyze every little thing Hector ever said to me.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re right. I’m sorry. What else do you remember?”
I close my eyes, willing myself to focus. “Hector was planning a meeting with someone. In Nice, I think. It was supposed to be low key, just the two of them, but Hector mentioned needing extra security.”
“Do you remember when?” Nick is typing as fast as I’m talking.
I shake my head. “I don’t know. It was before I left Lyon.”
Nick curses under his breath, his fingers flying over the keyboard again as he pulls up a satellite map of the area around Nice. He zooms in on a small, nondescript building near the edge of town.
“That café is one of René’s secure locations,” he mutters. “If Hector was meeting him in Nice, it means they’re planning something big.”
“What do we do?” I ask the words out before I can stop them.
He looks at me, his expression hard. “We do nothing. My team will handle it.”
“No.” I step closer, refusing to back down. “I can help. I know how Hector operates. I know his tells, his patterns. You need me.”
“What I need,” he says, his voice low and dangerous, “is for you to stay out of the way. To stay alive, Cherise.”
“Dammit, Nick!” I grab his arm, forcing him to look at me. “You can’t just shut me out. This isn’t just about you. It’s my life on the line.”
His jaw tightens, and for a moment, I think he’s going to push me away. But then he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Fine,” he says reluctantly. “You want to help? Then start by telling me everything you know about this meeting. Every detail, no matter how small.”
I nod, sitting down beside him as I try to recall everything Hector ever said about René, about their operations.
For the first time since this nightmare began, I feel a spark of hope.
We might actually have a chance.
* * *
The city of Nice stretches out before us, a glittering web of streets and buildings hugged by the Mediterranean. The sun is merciless, bouncing off the pale stone facades and baking the world in an oppressive heat. I shouldn’t notice things like this. Not when I’m sitting in Nick’s Range Rover, my heart hammering like a trapped bird, every nerve ending braced for what’s coming.
The lead we uncovered this morning has brought us here, but my gut churns with unease. Hector and René don’t make mistakes, and they sure as hell don’t leave trails unless they want someone to follow them.
“You’re quiet,” Nick says, his voice a low rumble that fills the small space of the car. His hazel eyes flick to me briefly before returning to the road, scanning for threats.
“I’m thinking,” I reply, trying to sound calm even as my fingers dig into the leather seat.
“About?”
“About why we’re here.”
“We’re here because it’s one of the places listed in the file. We have to start somewhere,” he says matter-of-factly.
“That’s it? We just pick a spot?” I squeak, hating the way my voice sounds.
“Do you have a better suggestion? It’s not like we can call the staff and ask if a notorious arms dealer makes deals inside their establishment. For all we know, he just likes the food…”