Page 61 of Forgiving Paris
“I was shot and left for dead.” Monsieur Hollande crossed his arms. “And my crime partner escaped to London. The secret police found me and helped me heal. In exchange for my cooperation. They asked me to work for them.” He drew a deep breath. “I told them everything.”
He went on to explain that he had secretly worked with Paris authorities to bring down Jean-Claude Pierre. “But the man died of natural causes before they could bring a strong case against him.”
Ashley could barely believe this.
“How does this involve my wife tonight?” Landon didn’t sound as upset. But the question was a good one.
“Oui.” Monsieur Hollande nodded. “The other day Isaw the poster advertising your show, and I became concerned.” He paused, as if there were no easy way to say what was next. “My former partner—Albert Arnaud—is back in Paris. Madame, he is a very dangerous criminal. We believe he’s behind a number of murders… but he never leaves a trail.”
Ashley and Landon were both quiet now, waiting.
“Albert was dangerously obsessed with Jean-Claude Pierre. We suspected he still might be.” He looked at Ashley. “Killing you was the one job Albert Arnaud failed at. And sure enough, he’s been trailing you again these past few days.”
Landon tensed up again. “I knew something was wrong.”
“Yes.” Monsieur Hollande stood a little taller. “When Albert showed up in the crowd waiting to enter the gallery tonight, we made our arrest. He definitely planned to harm you, madame. We’ve since searched his flat and found evidence to link him to three recent murders. He’ll spend the rest of his life in prison.”
Ashley was stunned.
“I thought you should both know.” The man looked at Ashley and then Landon. “Truly… there is no danger now.”
Landon sighed. “I… don’t know what to say.” He took a step toward Guy Hollande and shook his hand. “Thank you. For looking out for my wife.”
Monsieur Hollande nodded at the group. “I’ll be on my way.”
“Wait.” Ashley had a question for the man, the one who had once tried to harm her. She stayed at Landon’s side. “Twenty-three years ago you were right behind me. Several times… I saw you. Both of you.”
“We were.” The man looked like he regretted his past.
“So why?” She shook her head. “Why didn’t you kill me? You had your chance.”
“We would have. That was our job.” Monsieur Hollande paused, as if he thought Ashley should know the answer. “It was your bodyguards. There was no way either of us were going to get past them.”
Chills ran down Ashley’s arms and legs. She stared at Monsieur Hollande and blinked. “Sir… what bodyguards?”
Now it was the officer’s turn to look puzzled. “There were ten of them at least. They seemed to come from everywhere. As soon as we got close, they would surround you. On every side.” He hesitated. “And they were armed. We could see their guns.”
Ashley was shaking. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. “Do you… believe in God, Monsieur Hollande?”
“Funny you should ask.” He shifted from one foot to the other, like he was slightly uncomfortable. “I’ve been considering that, honestly.”
“Good.” Ashley looked at Landon and then back at the officer. “Because those weren’t guards you saw around me.” She paused. “I had no guards. Not at all.”
“So… who were the men?”
Ashley smiled. No one was going to hurt her. Not nowand not twenty-three years ago. “Simple.” She raised one hand toward heaven. “They were angels.”
EVEN AFTER MONSIEURHollande was gone, Landon didn’t leave her side, not for a minute. Not until Ashley turned to him and touched his face. The doors would be open in ten minutes, and she didn’t want him worried about her all night.
“I’m okay, Landon.” She actually felt giddy. “God was with me. When I was at my absolute lowest. I feel so happy, so thankful. Can you picture it? Angel armies surrounding me when the enemy of my soul wanted me dead?”
Landon eased back a little. “Are you saying I can do a little shopping?”
“Yes.” She laughed. “But you didn’t have to come all the way to Paris to shop for one of my paintings, crazy love.”
“Hold on.” He pulled her close, swaying with her, flirting with her again. “Did you ask me which paintings you should take? No! You asked your sister. And how would Kari know which one of your pieces I couldn’t part with?”
She tried to answer but all she could do was shake her head. “Really?”
