Charlotte Bennardo - Blonde Ops A Novel

The lobby door flew open and a gang of suited men burst in—and with them, the Man. He moved quickly despite his uneven gate, and he held a badge aloft. Everyone froze.

“Inspector Frederic Poulet. Interpol. No one may leave.”

“Great,” Candace muttered, but flashed a wary, weary smiled at the older man. “Inspector Poulet. So good to see you in the light for a change.”

“Agent Worthington,” he said tersely—and loped over to me. “We have to question this young woman. Miss, you’ll be coming with us. We need to interview you about your dealings with Tajo Renan.” His stony voice grated on my nerves.

“Tajo Renan?” Candace repeated the name like she’d never heard it before.

Inspector Poulet shook his head impatiently. “Known to you as Taj. Now, miss”—he turned to me again, holding out an arm—“come with us.”

“I—” I started, not liking the idea of “accompanying” Inspector Poulet and his gang to some undisclosed location, but at the same time, dying to. I wanted to know everything there was to know about Taj/Tajo—and then use it to bury him. Interpol could catch up to him another time.

“Ms. Jackson is an American citizen and a minor in my custody. You can debrief her right here in the hotel,” said Candace firmly, “under my watch.” She wasn’t taking no for an answer.

Thanks, Candace. I felt a small warm rush.

Inspector Poulet grudgingly agreed but wouldn’t let me so much as pee first. We went right upstairs to the suite and the interrogation took place immediately, in the sitting room.

“I really don’t know much about him,” I said, hating the admission. Thinking about how he used and duped me and everyone else, including Candace, made my blood boil all over again.

Poulet frowned. “Tell me everything you can from the moment you met him. He could be out of the country by now, he’s clever enough.”

Only if you tell me everything you know about him , I thought. But the inspector was right; I was willing to bet next year’s boarding school tuition that Taj was long gone.

“There’s not much. He wasn’t very open.” I paused. “Tell my why you’re chasing him, it’ll help me be more specific.”

The inspector and Candace exchanged a brief look.

Crossing my arms over my chest defiantly, I said, “I kept quiet about everything I heard about the First Lady. One problem I don’t need is being stalked by official agencies—domestic or international. You know where I live. Trust me, I’ll keep quiet about this .”

I caught a flicker of amusement as Candace licked her upper lip. I think she was trying not to grin.

Poulet scrutinized my face, probably trying to judge if I was trustworthy. Finally, with a prim look, he said, “We’ve been following the Renan family for years. They’re South American arms dealers.”

“Brazilian?” I offered.

Poulet raised a bushy gray brow. “Yes.”

Candace stared at me.

“When we were at the Forte, he mentioned a trip to a beach there, and then when we found Mrs. Jennings he was speaking Portuguese to Luca.”

Poulet continued. “The father runs the operation, his oldest son made the deliveries. Santo Renan was captured several years ago by U.S. border patrol agents. Interpol has been waiting for them to make another misstep.”

Candace pointed a long, steely finger at him. “We almost had an international catastrophe. If you’d bothered to share—”

“It looks like the crisis has been averted,” the inspector interjected smoothly, “and I told you, I wouldn’t and couldn’t reveal anything that might have ruined my own plans, but now my mission is a failure. When we positively identified Tajo and followed him here, we believed he was planning to bargain for his brother’s release. It looks like we were right, but now we’re back to square one.”

“Taj hacked Kevin’s bank account, maybe you could use that,” I suggested, even though I knew there’d be no link between the hack and Taj.

“She’ll tell you everything she knows, inspector. Hopefully it’ll give you something to work with.” Candace crossed her perfect legs, as if daring the inspector to disagree.

I didn’t think anything I offered would be valuable. Taj had obviously eluded the police, Interpol, and the Secret Service when he was right under their noses, but then everyone I knew was focused on the First Lady. After we left him on his butt in the street, he had to have disappeared. It’s what I would’ve done. But I would never try to kidnap anyone, no matter what. It was a special kind of desperate to think that kidnapping the president’s wife would solve your problems. But I told Candace and Inspector Poulet everything I knew or even thought, realizing that Taj never left fingerprints or DNA behind; he took his water bottles, didn’t touch things that weren’t his—and didn’t let his personal belongings far from his person. He didn’t want to be traced or put into a data bank.

No evidence.

He’d always had a plan B.

TRICKS AND TIPS FOR THE EDGE-Y GIRL

Got a friend who’s recovering in the hospital? Skip the flowers and go for a more unique gift. How about a massage, mani, or pedi? A little pampering will make anyone’s day.

32

I ran ahead of Candace into the hospital room, which was almost overflowing with flowers. Parker sat up in bed, looking weak, but very much awake. I wanted to cry, but instead, ran to her bedside, and grabbed her hands, careful not to crush them with my enthusiasm.

“You’re okay!”

“Easy! I want to get out of here, not stay longer!” she laughed softly. Embarrassed, I let go and backed up a step. After my interrogation with the inspector and a shower, Candace agreed that I’d earned a visit with Parker the next morning, as soon as the hospital would allow.

“Sit! I heard you turned my magazine—and Rome—upside down.”

I wasn’t sure if she was talking to Candace or me. It would apply in either case.

Pulling a chair up, I gave her the unedited version of what happened. She’d already been briefed and had given her statement. Candace stood, leaning against the wall across from Parker’s bed, nodding and smiling in the right places, grimacing in others, and sighing tiredly and shaking her head at the end.

“I can’t believe Ortiz sold out,” I said, disgusted. “And she was the one who searched my room.”

Candace looked taken aback. “What?!”

“Yep,” I said and turned to Parker. “I dusted my room and matched up her prints. She even downloaded a spy app on all our phones so Taj could spy on us, to find out what he could about Mrs. Jennings and the places and times of the photo shoots.”

Parker closed her eyes for a moment. “She fooled us all. And we’re professionals, trained to look for the signs of a traitor. Anyway, she’s in custody. You were right. She didn’t get too far.”

“How could she, with two broken legs?” said Candace.

“And she still wouldn’t give anything up about Taj? Or Tajo, or whatever his name really is?” asked Parker.

Candace shook her head. “She and Luca Vitorio, his other accomplice, won’t say a word. I’m surprised about Ortiz, though. She’s keeping her mouth shut, even after he left her down there.”

“Ten million dollars buys a lot of loyalty,” I offered glumly, not liking the idea that, whatever bargain they made, he’d just abandon her in a sewer. She could have died down there.

“We wouldn’t have known about Serena’s part in your crash without Bec picking up the purchase of the electronic cables.”

Parker exhaled, a sad look on her face. “Poor Serena. She only wanted to replace me at the magazine. She didn’t realize what she was getting into.”