Angel of the Dark
“Matt, come on. The jealous boyfriend shtick’s cute and all, but this is serious.”
“I know it is. Lisa, the Chinese police are trying to frame you for Miles’s murder. They’ve already got Interpol buying into their theory, that you and your mystery boyfriend staged the whole thing. Just because Liu hasn’t charged you yet doesn’t mean he’s not going to.”
“But he’s got no evidence.”
“Sure he has evidence. It’s circumstantial, and it’s bullshit, but convictions have been built on less, believe me. If you continue to refuse to name this other guy—”
“We’ve been through that.” Lisa sounded exasperated.
“I know. I’m not trying to change your mind. I’m simply stating the fact that they don’t have him, but they do have you. And a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. Liu knows that the American, British and French police were all left with a fistful of feathers. He won’t let you go till he’s made something stick.”
Lisa hesitated. It wasn’t that the idea of running away with Matt Daley wasn’t appealing. It was wonderful, a fantasy, a dream. But it couldn’t be done. Could it?
“Every day we stay here, we’re like sitting ducks,” said Matt. “Either for Liu or for the killer, whoever he is. Is that what you want?”
No. You’re right. It’s not what I want. But my life isn’t about what I want. It’s about what I have to do. My duty. My destiny.
“If I run, I’ll look guilty.”
“You look guilty now, angel. I’m afraid that’s part of the problem. The tabloids already hate you.”
“Thanks a lot!” Lisa tried to make light of it, but the laugh caught in her throat. Matt walked over to the bed and kissed her.
“I’m just being realistic.”
“I know you are.” Lisa pushed aside her breakfast. She wasn’t hungry anymore. “So what do we do? Theoretically, I mean, in this grand escape plan of yours. Where would we go?”
Grabbing his laptop from the desk, Matt brought it over to the bed. He clicked open a map of the world.
“You tell me.”
He wanted to pick somewhere special, someplace that Lisa had happy memories of. But he realized when he woke up this morning that he still knew next to nothing about Lisa’s life before she met Miles. She was American, raised in New York. Her parents were both dead and she had no family, save for one estranged sister. She was obviously well traveled. Her conversation was peppered with references to Europe and North Africa. And at some point she’d taken a job in Asia, where she’d met Miles. But that was it. If she had roots anywhere, Matt didn’t know about them.
“Where do you think you’d be happy?”
Where would I be happy? I’ve been to so many wonderful places. Rome, Paris, London, New York. I’ve soaked up the sun on a Malibu beach and swum in the Mediterranean off the Italian Riviera. But have I ever truly been happy?
“Anywhere significant. Anywhere that means somewhere to you…outside of the States, obviously. I don’t think it’d be the smartest move for either of us to go back there.”
Lisa stared at the map, her mind a blank. Then suddenly the answer came to her, as blindingly obvious as the nose on her face. She stroked the screen lovingly with her finger.
“Morocco. I’d like to go to Morocco.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I’M NOT HAPPY ABOUT THIS, MCGUIRE. Not happy at all.”
Henri Frémeaux didn’t look happy. Then again, Henri Frémeaux never looked happy.
“I understand that, sir.”
“We are here to assist and facilitate. Assist and facilitate. Which part of those two words do you not understand?”
“I do understand, sir.”
“Oh, really? Then why do I find myself on the receiving end of an extremely tense telephone call with Hong Kong’s chief of police, informing me that the Azrael team has been obstructive, difficult and unavailable, and that…”—he consulted his notes—“Inspector Liu cannot even get his phone calls returned.”
“With all due respect, sir, Liu asked me to ‘assist’ him by liaising with the Indonesian authorities. I was in the process of doing that when he decided to take matters into his own hands, arresting at least one innocent American citizen and possibly two. The legality of his actions was dubious at best.”