Page 3 of Girl Between

There were worse places to spend one’s time than the hills of Montmartre. The 18tharrondissement was home to some of France’s most beautiful views. Unfortunately, Jake stuck out like a thorn in the mecca of artists, musicians, and culinary types. Five-thousand-dollar suits didn’t exactly fit the vibrant bourgeoisie lifestyle of the neighborhood.

But he was in Paris on FBI assignment. Which meant the uniform of blue suit, blue shirt and tie was nonnegotiable.

After the Reaper case, Dana left Jake little choice but to follow the lead she’d acquired on his father. Jake had mixed feelings about finding the man who’d abandoned him and his mother two decades ago. But Dana had been clear that she needed time and space to dealwith the fallout of their last case, so Jake had arranged a trip to the FBI field office in Paris.

Crime and terror enjoyed a global reach, so there was no shortage of foreign post openings for Jake to choose from. He applied for the attaché position in Paris, confident he’d easily secure the four-week assignment once he found out his new Director had come from the FBI’s International Operations Division.

Jake had been in Paris for three weeks already, bouncing between embassies to build relationships with foreign law enforcement, intelligence, and security services. It was a lot of hand-shaking and ass-kissing, but it made the perfect cover for the true motive that brought him to France.

Jake kept his gaze fixed on the apartment building at the end of Rue de l’Abreuvoir. The phone number he’d traced belonged to the resident in unit 16. Jake had spent the last three weeks tracking the comings and goings of everyone in the building. He’d yet to spot a resident who resembled his father. And he was running out of time.

In one week, he’d have to return to D.C. It was now or never.

Finishing his coffee, Jake left his euros on the table and strode toward the towering limestone building, ready to face his fate, whether that be his father or just another dead end.

4

Halfway to thewrought iron exit gate, a rowdy sash-wearing bachelorette bumped into Dana, causing her to collide with an incoming stranger.

“Sorry,” Dana muttered, attempting to wipe the Red Dye No. 3 off both their shirts.

“No, my fault,” the man replied. “Can I get you another?” he asked, gesturing to Dana’s now empty Styrofoam cup.

“Actually, this was probably fate telling me it’s time to call it a night.”

A slash of gold teeth stunned Dana momentarily. “Outta townie turning down a drink? Damn, this is my lucky night.”

Dana laughed. “If you’re handing out IOU’s I might take you up on it next time, but as for tonight, I’ve had my fill of the Quarter.”

“Awe, cher!” His hands found her hips. “Nawlins has so much more to offer. Bourbon Street is the basement of what my city can do.”

“Your city? How do you know it’s not my city, too?”

He laughed, flashing that blinding smile again. “Please, bébé. Don’t even try ta front. You ain’t got no bayou in you.” He grinned,pulling her closer. “But if you want to change that, I’m willing and able.”

Dana swiftly kneed the guy in the groin, dropping him like the bag of trash he was. It earned riotous laughter from his crowd of cronies.

Sticky and annoyed, Dana stepped over the cretin and continued toward the exit in a hurry, but she wasn’t fast enough. Another man stepped into her path, but before he could get out whatever he’d come to say, she cut him off. “Christ, is there some sort of bet I’m unaware of tonight? Because I can save you the trouble. I’m not interested!” she shouted.

He frowned, his dark eyebrows knitting in confusion. “I’m not here to hit on you, ma’am.”

Ma’am.The word stung, but Dana didn’t dwell on it. She was too focused on the crowd of onlookers watching their exchange. Whoever this guy was, his friends seemed to have a wager riding on whether he’d be able to pick her up. “Your friends seem to think differently.”

He followed her line of sight, and the group of men immediately looked away. “Them?” he asked. “Normally, I’d trust them with my life, but tonight, they’re idiots. You can ignore them. They’re harmless, I promise.”

“And you?” she asked. “Are you going to tell me you’re as harmless as dickless over there?” she asked, thumbing toward the direction of the man she’d dropped who was now crawling away in a hurry.

“He’s why I came over here, ma’am. I saw the exchange and wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine. Honestly, if you want to file a report?—”

She laughed, cutting him off. “Thanks, but I don’t have time for your ambulance chaser spiel.”

He produced a card from his pocket anyway. “How ‘bout now?” he asked.

She narrowed her eyes, trying to focus on the letters that weremoving too much for her to read, but she had no trouble identifying the large NOPD shield in the corner. “You’re a cop?”