Page 23 of Gianna

"You live in Paris?" she asked.

He nodded. "I have an apartment just outside of the 11th arrondissement."

"Wife? Kids?" Wyatt asked. “Anyone special in your life? Or not?”

"I have a cat," Lucien replied defensively, with a flash of resentment in his eyes.

Wyatt raised his eyebrows. "Better get home to her, then. My wife and I have one of those. They don't like it when their humans arrive late."

“What kind of cat do you have?” Juliette asked, wanting details.

“She is a tortoiseshell called Mona Lisa, because I found her near the Louvre,” he explained. “She’s three years old. I rescued her when I was at a crime scene. She was a kitten then, stuck up on the roof of a deserted building and crying loudly,” Lucien said. “We had to get a ladder to bring her down. She was starving and infested with fleas.”

For the first time ever, Juliette saw tenderness in his eyes.

“That’s exactly what I do!” she said. “I also rescue animals. I’ve found a cat and a dog when I’ve been out on crime scenes. I’m so glad you did that.”

Finally she could say something genuinely positive, and speak from the heart. She saw, again, the surprise in his eyes as he looked at her.

“That is good,” he said, sounding warmer.

“We’d better get going,” Wyatt reminded them, checking his watch, and bringing the conversation about rescues to a close.

"We can regroup tomorrow," Juliette said. "First thing? Say, seven a.m. at this police station?"

"Okay. Speak then," Lucien said. “You can take the keys to the unmarked, seeing your bags are already in it. Use it from here. I will take the Metro back home, and use my motorcycle tomorrow.” He handed her the keys before turning and striding away.

Juliette felt suddenly tired. It had been a long, exhausting day.

"Where are we staying?" she asked Wyatt.

"I'm looking here. I see they made the arrangements. We got booked into a hotel not too far from here. Looks like quite a nice place," he said approvingly.

They headed back to the car, and drove to the hotel, which was a couple of miles away, and on the outskirts of Paris. She guessed that was a sensible decision, because there was convenient parking in a lot behind the hotel, and the place was bigger and more comfortable than the tiny hotels and apartments she'd seen in the city center. A spacious hotel in central Paris was only for the wealthy, and not those on a police budget.

Walking into the hotel, wheeling her bag behind her, she noticed a bar to the left.

"Hey, they have Budweiser in here! Look, there’s the logo!" Wyatt sounded amazed, as if this was the best thing to have happened to him all day. "The hotel bar has Bud? What a find! Look, I’ll meet you here in half an hour? Want a drink and a bite of food?" he asked.

"Sure," Juliette said. She was starving, and after the stress of the day, she could use a drink. It would be nice to sit down, recharge, and get to know her investigation partner a bit better.

*

Half an hour later, Juliette was sitting at one of the wooden tables in the now busy and bustling hotel bar. She had a glass of white wine in front of her. French wine. She wasn't a connoisseur of wine, but enjoyed red or white, as long as it wasn't too sweet. Sitting opposite her, Wyatt had a Budweiser in a tall, frosted glass.

"Well, what a day," he said. "Cheers!"

"Cheers," she replied, taking a welcome sip of her wine as the barman brought menus.

"Interesting day. Pity we didn't get further, but I guess that's the name of the game. I mean, you can't win them all on the first day."

"No, you can't." Wanting to dig down a little more into his experience, she asked, "How many murder cases have you been involved in?"

"A few,” he said cagily. “I've been more involved in the policing and security side, with my background in the army, so you could say I've been tangentially involved in a few. And you?"

"I've been investigating serious crimes ever since joining. I went straight into the BAU unit," she said.

He nodded. "I guess with your psychology background, that was a fit," he said.

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