Cloud Dust: RD-1 (R-D #1)(45)



"This places him in Ireland three weeks ago. What the hell was he doing there?" Shaw asked.

"Talking to Mary Evans. We know what happens if she's around."

"People are targeted and important things are stolen?"

"Exactly. I don't know who she's working for—Corinne was disappointed that we didn't have anything on that, but we do know that she's working on a deal with this *."

"Cori asked me to investigate whether Cutter may have had contact with this woman." I studied the image of Mary Evans—that was her name until we learned her real identity.

"That could explain a few things," Shaw muttered.

"It could. I'm sure he had his eye on the VP's office, so there's the possibility that he was involved in the former VP's death. It makes sense, especially when the bastard took off running after the Mansion was destroyed."

"If you can't get what you want one way, then look for an alternate route?" Shaw lifted his eyes to mine.

"That's what I'm worried about."

"I'm worried about what they all want. Do you think any of them are working together, or whether the one who's getting everybody else what they want has an agenda of his own, and isn't only interested in making money?"

"You're assuming it's only one person. What if it's more than that? We still don't have identification on those who attacked Corinne and the others. No fingerprints, no ID—these assassins didn't just drop from the sky."

"Still no leads on the one who killed the VP, either," Shaw pointed out. "We can't identify any of the men who attacked the President's limo. If others were there, they disappeared without a trace."

"Then, in the middle of all this, Rafe will be sent to track a Russian General; the President has already cleared it. I don't like this. He's walking into a trap."

*

Corinne

"When?" I hugged myself—I couldn't help it. Rafe was going to track a Russian General and get information if he could.

"I leave for Ireland in two days."

"No," I moaned.

"Cabbage," he began.

"I understand. I do. I just don't like being without you."

"You haven't had me that long."

"Honey, you're better than the best chocolate I ever had," I said. "And I'm addicted to chocolate."

"Ah. Where's my feisty, insulting cabbage?" His arms went around me and I closed my eyes with the pleasure of his warmth.

"In a depressed funk," I mumbled against his shoulder.

"Your appointment with Dr. Shaw is ten minutes away. Shall we go together?"

"That's scary."

"No. He will see both of us. You will tell things you have never said. He and I will hear those things."

"See previous statement."

"We have two days, cabbage. Let us make the most of them."

*

"You're both here?" Leo Shaw looked surprised. He should.

"Yes. Corinne will tell us a story," Rafe said, putting me on the spot. I wanted to kick his ankle. I didn't.

"What story is that?" Leo settled deeper into a new, leather chair behind a new, cherry-wood desk. His office was on the villa's first floor, in what should be a private study.

"Corinne will tell us things about the terrorist attack in France," Rafe pulled me onto the sofa and sat beside me. He'd wedged me between the sofa arm and his body, so I couldn't escape easily.

"What things?" Leo asked, his voice deep and even. He used the same voice to convince his patients that it was safe to tell him anything.

"Where do you want me to start?" I stalled. Any way you looked at this story, it would be painful.

"Start at the beginning," Leo said.

"The beginning? Well, when my husband and I walked into the Louvre that morning, it was the first time I saw the woman who calls herself Mary Evans."

Rafe stiffened beside me. "You saw her before?" Leo kept his voice even.

"Yes. She was going out the door, carrying a large plastic bag and a tote—both from the museum gift shop. I know now that original paintings and the crown were inside her bags."

"They'd already been replaced?" Rafe asked.

"Yes. I didn't know that then, of course. I know it now."

"You were married." Leo said it flatly.

"Yes."

"Will you tell us your name?"

"No. My name—and my husband's name—aren't on the list of victims."

"He is dead?"

"Yes. I watched him die. They killed him in front of me."

*

Notes—Colonel Hunter

"She didn't go into detail," Shaw said. "It was hard enough for her to tell us what she did."

"Where is she now?" I asked.

"I gave her something and Rafe is with her in their bedroom."

"So she was married."

"Yes. Still wouldn't give me her name. I don't know what she's protecting, but there's something there. The most horrible thing was the deaths of the children who were with some of the tourists. She said that five of the six terrorists were sociopaths and only wanted to cause pain and death. The sixth killed the other five at the end, then killed himself. I believe that was the plan all along, but the other five didn't know it. They thought their rescue was on the way."

Connie Suttle's Books