The Last Second (A Brit in the FBI #6)(17)

No one was paying her any attention. Devi opened the bottle of ketamine and carefully counted out the drops as they fell into the open decanters and pitchers until all had been dosed.

A server appeared in the doorway, and she quickly grabbed an empty wine bottle and examined the label. She smiled. “Hello, Andre, I’m not familiar with this wine. I don’t want to make a fool of myself.”

Andre only shook his head, and fetched the cutlery he was looking for. He found this beautiful young Indian girl amazing and envied Monsieur Broussard his good luck. “Never,” he said, and rushed out.

When she was alone again, she took a deep breath and retrieved another small bottle of ketamine from her bra.

Devi walked into the galley, the bottle hidden in her hand, straight to Lola, who was ordering her crew around as if she were the master of The Griffon.

Lola was sweating, but her uniform was as crisp and white as the moment she’d put it on. She saw Devi coming and narrowed her eyes.

“What? What’s the matter? He’s not changing the menu, is he?”

Devi smiled. “No, of course not. I have a—okay, this is terribly embarrassing, but I—” She pointed toward her stomach, whispered, “Cramps. Early. I just used my last aspirin.”

Lola rolled her eyes. “Surely the medic has some.”

“The medic is celebrating early with most of the other crew at Monsieur Broussard’s spectacular find. Do you have any aspirin, Lola? Please? I’ll pay you.”

Of course Devi knew Lola had aspirin, she always had aspirin. Lola waved a hand dismissively. “Yes, in my bag. On the third shelf.”

“Thank you.” Devi made a beeline for the bag. Just as she put a hand on it, she slipped and went down, the bag spilling its contents all over the galley floor. Lola said several nasty words and came to help. Devi struggled to her feet.

“I’m so sorry, I slipped, I didn’t mean to—I’m sorry, I’ve made such a mess.”

Lola waved her away, tossed a couple of ripe curses at her head, and began picking up her belongings. Devi reached behind her and dumped the contents of the bottle into the turtle soup.

A few seconds later, Lola shoved an aspirin bottle in her hand and said, “Get out of my galley before you make even more of a mess.”

This time, Devi’s smile was genuine. “Thanks so much, Lola. Dinner smells delicious.”

She didn’t start to breathe again until she was out in the hallway. She’d done it.

Jean-Pierre was waiting for her when she returned to her own suite. She felt her heart slam into her chest—why was he here in her suite? Did he know? But he simply whistled at her and pulled her into his arms.

“What a beautiful dress. You’ve been saving this one for a special occasion, yes?”

She pinned a smile on her face and twirled the lovely blue silk skirt. “Yes. I’m glad you like it.”

His dark eyes glittered. “I’d like you better out of it. Come here.”

“We haven’t the time, Jean-Pierre. Dinner is about to be served.”

As she said it, they heard the dinner bell—an antique Jean-Pierre had brought from his grandfather’s vineyard in Lyon.

He shook his head, drew her in for another hug. “You have time for this. Trust me.” He nuzzled her neck and slid a long, flat white velvet box into her hands.

“What’s this?”

“Open it and see.”

She snapped open the lid and gasped. Five huge green faceted stones nestled in a thick platinum chain. “Are they emeralds? No, wait, they’re far too dark, they look black.”

“They’re moldavite. It’s exceptionally rare, and what I believe the Holy Grail is made of. It will bring you great fortune, and luck in love. Here, let me.”

He lifted the necklace gently and put it around her neck. She could feel the weight of the stones against her collarbones, warm and solid. They tingling against her skin, or maybe it was her imagination?

Jean-Pierre moved her to the mirror. “Look.” She did. In the brighter light the stones were stunning, and the deepest green she’d ever seen, like a rain forest.

She said formally, “Thank you, Jean-Pierre. I will treasure this gift.”

Treasure it, because this will be the last thing you ever give me. The last time you will ever see me again. She wanted to weep.





CHAPTER ELEVEN


Moldavite has a rich history, prized since the Stone Age and used not only for arrowheads and cutting tools, but as a spiritual talisman and amulet of good fortune, fertility and protection. It was found in the archeological site of the Venus of Willendorf, the oldest known Goddess statue, and has been linked to legends of the Holy Grail, thought to be an emerald that fell from the sky out of Lucifer’s crown before he was cast from Heaven.

—www.crystalvaults.com

The dining room was already full when Jean-Pierre and Devi came inside. She felt every eye upon her. Did they all know what was to come? But no one looked at her strangely, or with distrust. She counted—yes, all the crew were present. Everyone but the four security guards. She said a quick prayer—Please, let them be eating or drinking on their watch. She didn’t have another way to incapacitate them. They had to eat the drugged soup or drink the drugged wine or water, or she’d failed, and her sister would die.