“How can you tell?”

“It’s my business.” He stepped over to the curb and studied the house. “She thinks we’re trying to steal something from her, so she’s not telling us what she knows.”

“It’s exactly what I would think,” said Lara. “If someone came to my house claiming to be looking for a painting, I’d have immediately called you.”

Ben pointed to a café across the street. “If my hunch is correct, she’ll make a move. Let’s just hang over there out of sight and see what happens.”

“Really?” Lara looked at the closed door.

“Really,” said Ben.

After a few minutes, they found a table outside and ordered two café au laits and water.

Ben settled in his chair and turned it to face the house. “I think I could get used to this,” he said, tapping on the table and tilting his face to the sun. He wore a crisp white shirt with rolled-up sleeves and cargo shorts. Immediately, he turned the sleeves another roll.

“It’s nice to know your starched shirts made the journey,” said Lara, adjusting her own sunglasses. She fixed her stare on the house and added sugar to her café au lait and stirred it with a tiny spoon. Given someone was trying to kill her, she found herself looking around for versions of the ponytailed lady. Settling into her Parisian cane chair, she thought she’d try small talk. “So is this your first time in Paris?”

“Oui.” He laughed, trying out his first French word. “My starched shirts and I don’t travel much, maybe Jamaica and the Keys.”

Across the street, the door to the apartment opened and the woman emerged from the house, shifting her weight like she had a bad knee. She now was wearing sunglasses and sneakers and it appeared she’d put on lipstick.

“I’ll be damned. There she goes,” said Lara. “Are we tailing her?”

“We are.” He smiled.

“You go without me,” she said to Ben as she flagged down the waitress.

Ben looked reluctant, but she motioned him on, so he slid out of the chair and took off after the woman. Lara could see that he only made it to the end of the block. After settling the bill, Lara joined him and they ducked behind one of the trees on the wide boulevard. The woman knocked on a door a block down from her own house.

“She didn’t go far,” said Lara. “Why didn’t she just call?”

“Because she wants to see the painting.” Ben held up a map and pretended to be studying it intently.