Black Ice - Anne Stuart [76]
Chloe didn’t bother to say anything stupid, like “what do you mean?” She knew exactly what Maureen meant. Had known since the woman walked into their tiny, safe haven and Bastien had abandoned her, despite her talk of new haircuts and fancy underwear. The woman had no intention of letting her get on any plane. That was what the new clothing was for—so they couldn’t trace her by any mark on her own clothes. Couldn’t trace her body.
She was past the point of panic. “Is that why Bastien brought you here? Because he couldn’t do it himself?”
“Ah, Bastien. This particular identity hasn’t been particularly fortunate. If he were his old self you never would have left the château. As it is, I’m here to clean up the mess he made. Attention to detail is the only way to success.”
She was between Chloe and the open door. She was taller than Chloe, and despite the chic clothing she looked as if she were quite a bit stronger. And Chloe was hardly at her best.
She sat on the edge of the bed in her new, perfectly fitting clothes, and looked into the eyes of her killer. She felt numb, and though she despised herself for it, unable to move. She was going to sit there like a lamb waiting for slaughter, putting up no sort of fight….
The hell she was. She sat up straighter, but Maureen was already ahead of her.
“You’re not going gentle into that good night?” she said with a faint smile. “That’s all right. I owe you a fair amount of pain—you screwed me over and I don’t like being made to look a fool in front of my superiors.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Jean-Marc. Or Bastien, or whatever you call him. You’re just another example of his ambivalence. You’ve distracted him, when he was a man who could never be distracted. Killing you will be my gift to him.”
“Did he bring you here to kill me?”
“You already asked me that, chérie. And you may have noticed, I didn’t answer. You’re just going to have to wonder about that with your dying breath. Now start moving.”
“Where?”
“This room has steel reinforcements, and we’re directly above the bathroom. They’re likely to survive a fire more than the rest of this old bundle of dry wood, and I don’t take chances. One screwup is enough.”
“You’re going to burn the place? Then why did you bother making me change my clothes?”
“God is in the details. Except, of course, I don’t believe in God. But I never count on anything. They may find enough of your body, and I don’t want them ID-ing you. If you were German or English I wouldn’t have to be so careful, but the Americans tend to make a huge fuss when one of their citizens is murdered overseas. Out the door, chérie. We’ve wasted enough time as it is.”
“And what if I refuse to move? Make you kill me here?”
“You won’t. You’ll put off dying as long as you possibly can. It’s human nature. You’ll do everything I tell you to do, in the hope that you’ll find a weak spot, a chance to escape. You won’t, but you can’t believe that. So you’re going to do exactly as I say, walk out that door and down the stairs to the far corner of the second floor. Where I’ll cut your throat and then torch the place. I’ve already set the accelerants.”
But Chloe’s mind wasn’t interested in accelerants. “You’ll cut my throat?”
“It works quite well. It’s quiet—no noisy gun, and you won’t be able to make anything more than a gurgling noise for as long as you live. The drawback in your case is that you don’t die right away, but for me that’s one of the perks. I have a personal grudge this time. Not just for Jean-Marc’s sake. I don’t usually make mistakes, but because of you I made a major one. And I intend to make it right with a vengeance.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Are you totally dim-witted? Your friend. I had the apartment number, a general description, and there she was. How was I to know you had a roommate? It was very embarrassing to be told I’d killed the wrong woman.”
“Embarrassing?” Chloe echoed. The empty wine bottle was still on the table. It wouldn’t be much protection against a knife or a gun, but it would be something. If she just had the nerve