The Lost Girls of Paris - Pam Jenoff Page 0,45

was killed. She was English. At first I just wanted to find a way to return the photos to their owner. That’s why I went to the British consulate.”

“But you didn’t leave the photos at the consulate, though. Why not?”

Grace faltered. “I don’t know. I wanted to make sure they were getting into the right hands. I did speak to the consul, though. He didn’t know who the girls were, but he said Eleanor worked for the British government during the war. Something called Special Operations Executive.”

“I’ve heard of it, actually. SOE, I think it’s called.”

“That’s what he said.”

“It was a British agency that sent agents into Europe during the war to do secret missions, sabotage and such. What did Eleanor do for SOE?”

“Something clerical, the consul said. He really didn’t know more about it, except that the agency records were sent to the War Department in Washington after the war. That still doesn’t tell me who the girls were—or get me any closer to returning her photos.”

“So what are you going to do now?” Mark asked.

“I’m not sure,” Grace confessed. “Place an ad in the Times, maybe.” As if she had the money. She had seen Frankie do it when one of his clients was looking for her husband, from whom she’d been separated during the war. “Right now, I need to get to work. I’m so very late. Surely you have things to do as well.”

“I’m expected back in Washington this afternoon,” he admitted, leaving some coins on the counter and following her to the door of the coffee shop. “My case settled.”

“Oh,” she said, with an unexpected feeling of disappointment.

Outside, they both stood for several seconds without speaking, neither of them seeming ready to part. “Say, the consul said there are files at the War Department,” Mark said suddenly. “I might have a contact there. I could do some checking for you, if you’d like.”

“No,” she said abruptly. “I mean, thank you. That’s very kind of you. But this is my problem and I’ve taken enough of your time already.”

“Or,” he continued with a smile, “you could come and do the checking yourself.”

“Me?” Grace stared at him, surprised. New York alone after losing Tom had been an adventure. But going all the way to Washington sounded preposterous. “I couldn’t possibly.”

“Why not?” he challenged. “You’ve hit a dead end with the consulate. There’s nothing more to be learned here. Otherwise, you’re stuck with the photos. Why not take a chance and see what we can learn?”

We. Grace squirmed. “Why are you doing this?” she asked.

“Maybe I’m curious, too. Or maybe I’m just not ready to say goodbye to you,” he blurted. Grace was surprised. She had liked Mark enough the few times she’d met him previously, mostly because Tom liked him and that was enough for her. That, along with her loneliness and a healthy amount of liquor was what had driven her to sleep with him the other night. But now he was suggesting that for him it had been something more than she had intended.

She pulled her hand away. “You don’t know me that well.”

“That,” he said, “is something I would like to rectify. Come on, one day in Washington. Do you want to know about Eleanor and the girls or not?”

“Yes, of course.” Grace wasn’t supposed to be hopping on a train to Washington on some wild quest, but figuring out her life here, whether to stay in New York or go home and what to do next.

“So are you in?” His eyes locked with hers, deep and cajoling.

Grace wanted to walk away from him, from the girls, from all of it. But even more than that, she wanted to know. “When?”

“Today.”

“I have work.”

“Tomorrow then. Take a day off, if you have one, or call in sick. It’s only a day. What’s that in exchange for all of the answers you want?” Not waiting for an answer, he continued, “Tell you what—you get things sorted out here and let your boss know. I have to head back on the two o’clock today, but there’s a train first thing tomorrow at seven. Take that one. I’ll be waiting on the platform at Union Station and I hope you’ll be there.” He tipped his hat. “See you then.” He spoke as though she had acquiesced, her meeting him already a foregone conclusion.

Watching him stride away, Grace’s doubts swelled. She should not mind him leaving so much. She should be glad he was gone so she could put

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