The agent who had followed him since his arrival that afternoon marveled at his stamina, and had gotten photographs of everyone he met with. He sent the photos to Mike, who had run them through their computers. All involved appeared to be legitimate and had no criminal records, but just looking at them, he understood what Pierre was doing. He didn’t know what the projects were, but he was meeting their needs, and they obviously paid for his own lavish lifestyle. He was exactly what he said he was, a matchmaker, for whatever kind of project came along.

The agent went home when Pierre went back to the Plaza. It seemed unlikely he would go out again. The agent would be replaced the next day, so that his face didn’t become familiar to Pierre and alert him.

When Pierre got back to his room, and the agent left, Mike was asleep in his comfortable bachelor pad. It had all the technology and comforts he needed for the life he led. And Theo was just waking up at the Carlyle. She was still on Paris time, and it was five a.m. in New York, eleven in the morning in Paris. She had fallen asleep at midnight, in her clothes, with all the lights on, and five hours was enough sleep for her.

She stood looking out the window of her suite, at Central Park still shrouded in darkness, and she remembered all the times she had been there with her husband and Axel. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine that they were still there, asleep in the bedrooms of the suite. Then reality hit her, as it always did. They were gone, and all she could do now was keep going. She could hardly wait for the city to wake up, so she could go back to their store location and get to work again.

They had today to work on it before the party the next day. As it had in the past, work had always saved her. She couldn’t afford to let the memories flood in. Their marriage hadn’t been perfect. Matthieu was difficult at times, and there had been power struggles between them, but they had been happy enough. The only thing she couldn’t forgive him for was that he had had their son with him when they took him, and no protection. She had begged him for years to get private security, particularly at the château, which was fairly isolated, but he insisted he didn’t need it. He liked having no help in the house on the weekends, and he thought no one would ever dare attack him, but they had, and none of the happy memories changed that. Their dream life had turned into a nightmare, and she was left to live it alone.

Chapter 3