The dog wagged its tail, sweeping the ground in an arc behind him. Maybe his owners would pass this way as they returned home. Piers looked up and down the street, maybe they wouldn’t. Either way, he couldn’t walk the dog back to his home.
He toyed with the idea of Sidney handing the dog back over to the police outside Auguste’s apartment, but that was still too much of a risk. The dog ran around his feet, wrapping him in the leash. He let go and untied himself. The dog looked up, and made small jumps while his tongue flapped from the side of his mouth.
Piers took a deep breath. The dog had gotten him out of trouble; the least he could do now was look after him. They could walk around the block and get back to Sidney without passing the police in front of Auguste’s apartment building. Then he would find something better to do with him.
Piers bent down and looked at the tag on his collar. God, some people were inventive. He patted the dog’s head, and walked off to meet Sidney, Rover bouncing along beside him.
Chapter 14
Sidney walked back to the corner and out of sight of the police officer. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. Bloody hell, this whole thing was ridiculous. God knows what damage she was doing to herself with all the crying, running around, and falling down trash chutes. Her eyes would be as puffy as could be, she ached all over, and the cold and the rain weren’t helping. Even the brandy hadn’t warmed her up.
She flipped open the umbrella. It had been a stupid trick to get by the officer, but it had worked. Hopefully now they would find out something about the painting, though she wasn’t quite sure what they would find. Would Auguste have hidden it in his apartment? And if he had, surely the police would have found it already? In fact, what was Piers looking for? She furrowed her brow.
He was a weird guy. Kind of likable, and kind of funny, but still kind of different. At least he wasn’t just full of lines and, she grinned, he could give as good as he got, like he wasn’t just out to impress her. But he had hung on to her longer than she’d expected when they hid from the police behind the umbrella, and she wasn’t quite sure how much of his embrace had been acting and how much might have been a little more. There again, she smiled, that wasn’t such a bad thing. It had been obvious in the shower that there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him, and the firmness of his arms around her had been … she licked her lips . . . nice.
A black Mercedes appeared at the end of the street. Its windows were dark and she felt uncomfortable as it passed by. It didn’t look like a police car, but it might have been an unmarked one. The car turned right and raced away.
She looked up at the windows of the apartment block. Which one was Auguste’s? And how long was Piers going to be? She felt strangely naked without him. She shook herself. No. She didn’t need any man. Not again. She grinned. Or, at least not for a while.
She heard a voice behind her. “Excuse me?”
Sidney’s heart thumped so hard she could feel it in her throat. She whipped around, bringing the umbrella down as a shield. She gripped the shaft, ready to stab it forward into whoever had addressed her.
It took a moment for the face of the person who stood in front of her to register. He was tall, dark, and distinguished-looking, with square shoulders and a disarming smile of pearly white teeth. As she pointed the umbrella at him, he held his hands up in mock surrender. “Sorry, didn’t mean to frighten you.”
She swallowed. She didn’t know what to say to the dictator who, for the past five years, had ruled her homeland with an iron fist and a ruthless secret police force.
He lowered his hands. “Please, put the umbrella down.”
She lowered it a fraction. “What do you want?”
He smiled. “I know you have been in this country for a while, my dear, but surely you haven’t forgotten me already.”
“Per … President …”
He nodded and held out his hand. “Brunwald. Yes, my dear, and I must say I am very pleased to meet you.”
She lowered the umbrella and shook Brunwald’s