Paris Love Match - By Nigel Blackwell Page 0,74
and she had sunk into a paralyzing gloom. The police had been his idea, of course, and perhaps with a week in the cells she had come to blame him.
The footsteps stopped at the door to his cell. There was a knock, a rattle of keys, and the door swung open. The case inspector smiled at him. “Monsieur Chapman. Gather your things. You are being released.”
Piers pried himself up, being careful not to scrape his leg on the edge of the bed, and followed the inspector to his office.
The inspector sat at his desk. “I have to ask you one more time, monsieur: the diamonds?”
Piers shrugged. “I took them after the fight with Kuznik, but when I got out of the water, they’d gone. They’re in the Seine somewhere.”
The inspector scowled. “A claim that guarantees the police will never find them.”
“Huh?”
“Your story has filled the Seine with bounty hunters, monsieur.”
“Oh.” Piers shuffled.
The inspector took a deep breath. “Nevertheless, you are being released on the condition that you return if we have further questions. You understand this, yes?”
“Am I free to return home?”
The inspector leaned back in his chair, his eyebrows raised. “I am surprised you do not wish to stay in Paris, monsieur.”
“Stay? You’re kidding, right? I’ve had enough excitement, I just want to go home.”
“I see. Very well.” The inspector held out his passport. “This has been endorsed such that you cannot leave the EU … but you may return to England.”
The inspector signed Piers’ release form with a flourish and handed it to him. “You are free to go, monsieur.”
“What about Sidney?”
The inspector gestured to the doorway. “She is next.”
She stood cuffed to a police officer and staring at the forms on the inspector’s desk.
“Sidney.” Piers felt his heart lift and fall in one sweeping movement. He held his arms out and did a good impression of a Cheshire cat, but Sidney’s eyes didn’t meet his. Her expression was cold and fixed.
He lowered his arms. “You okay?”
Seconds passed before she mumbled “Fine.”
The police officer walked her to the inspector’s desk.
Piers looked questioningly at the inspector, who waved his hand at him, “You are free to go, monsieur.” He gestured to the door. “Si vous plait.”
Piers was out of the police station before he realized. The sun was down and the streetlights were on. He lingered on the steps, but he wasn’t sure for what.
Fine.
One single word.
He’d worried all week, churning acid, desperate to see and talk to her. There hadn’t been a moment when he hadn’t wondered how she was doing, and all she said was fine. He hadn’t known what to expect—he’d prepared himself for joy or raging anger—but the fatalism of her voice left him numb.
He sighed. He felt as if his heart slowed a beat. She had been breathtaking. A blinding light in his ordinary world. A star too high for him to hold onto. He looked at his hands. He had tried. He had rescued her. It hadn’t all gone to plan and the doctor had told him he’d be scared for life from his run-in with Kuznik, but he had saved her. He clenched his fists. She was safe. That was all that really mattered.
He heard Sidney’s voice. “You’re going home.”
He jerked his head up. She was six feet away, arms folded and staring at the ground between them.
He cleared his throat. “I, I guess.”
“Right,” she said, her head bobbing upward and her jaw barely moving.
His phone buzzed.
“Mother,” Sidney said, flatly.
He hummed his agreement and pulled the battery out of his phone. “Later.”
Sidney stared at him, her lips thin and every muscle in her face frozen.
He took a deep breath. “I was—”
“You better get going then.”
He closed his mouth slowly. “What are you going to do?”
“Does it matter?”
“I—”
“I heard you.” She jerked her head toward the police station. “Back there.”
He raised his shoulders, questioning.
“You said you wanted to go home. Had enough excitement, you said.”
“I—”
“I guess I was just an accessory to the excitement. Thrilling for a minute.”
“No. No. I mean, yes, you were part of the excitement … but you weren’t just that. I would have wanted to be with you, no matter what.”
“Would have.”
His mouth hung open. He stared at her face till she glanced at him. He spoke slowly. “Want, not would. I want to be with you. I’ve wanted to be with you since you made me laugh in that stupid taxi.” He waved his hand at the police station. “Every moment we were in there, I wanted to