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sistant, who told one of my officers that they were traveling without bodyguards.”

“That seems a little strange,” Fournier said.

“What seems strange? You telling me they were Tarek’s bodyguards or Tarek’s assistant telling my officer that they were traveling without protection?”

“Francine, my dear, I assumed they were Tarek’s bodyguards, just as you did. I have no information that would say otherwise.”

She nodded. “Well, the assistant is now at the Libyan Embassy. They won’t let us interview him.”

“I’ll see if I can change their minds,” Fournier offered in a helpful tone, even though he had no such intention.

“There’s another interesting tidbit. We have been unable to locate five of the hotel guests.”

“I’m not totally surprised. The place was crawling with cops and reporters. They probably left and checked into other hotels.”

“No,” Neville said, shaking her head. “Their bags are still in their rooms and you wouldn’t believe the coincidence,” she said in mock shock. “Four of those guests match the descriptions of the four dead bodyguards.”

“Really?”

“Yes, and we found a room down the hall from Tarek’s that was loaded with surveillance equipment.”

“I thought that was the room where Tarek’s bodyguards were keeping watch.”

“That’s what we thought, but according to Tarek’s assistant he didn’t have a security detail with him.”

Fournier pursed his lips into a thoughtful expression and then in a helpful tone said, “This assistant was probably scared out of his mind when your officer interviewed him. Maybe he left out a rather important detail.”

“And what about the hotel staff and guests we interviewed? Tarek left the hotel at least seven times and no one remembers seeing a security detail with him.”

“Well,” Fournier said, trying to come up with a logical explanation. “Maybe Tarek didn’t want them with him in public. Maybe he preferred a low profile.”

“The room with all of the surveillance equipment in it . . . the hotel computers had it blocked off. The computer said it was being renovated even though it was renovated only a year ago.”

Fournier frowned. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Neville could see through the act. “Do you know what else doesn’t make sense?”

Fournier got a bad feeling that he wasn’t going to like the answer to this question. “No.”

“My officers say that while you were in Tarek’s suite with me, one of your men made a little visit to the roof.”

“I had several men with me. I don’t know where they were specifically. I instructed them to spread out and see what they could find out.”

“I’m sure you did,” Neville said, her tone changing from congenial to suspicious. “A rope was taken from the roof.” She wasn’t going to tell him how she knew. “Any idea what happened to it?”

“Surely you are not trying to say one of my men tampered with evidence.” Fournier acted as if he was offended by the accusation.

Neville kept her eyes locked on him. “Paul, I know you better than most. I know you are an extremely deceptive man who is involved in all kinds of nasty things that, God forbid they ever came to light, might possibly destroy our country, so please don’t act offended. Deny all you like, but we both know you are capable of transgressions far worse than interfering with my investigation.”

Vega cleared his throat and grabbed his phone. “I have other business to attend to. If you’ll excuse me.”

Fournier placed his hand on Vega’s wrist and kept his gaze on Neville. “Francine and I have a long history. I fell in love with her, but she broke my heart. One should never mix business and pleasure. I’m afraid our history is complicating matters.”

Neville tossed her head back in fake laughter. “Actually, Max, I found out he was cheating on me, and I told him I never wanted to see him again. Lying comes very easy to Paul, so you have to be very careful in dealing with him.”

“Come now, Francine,” he said with a pouty grin.

“Don’t worry, Paul, I got over you a long time ago, but I did learn some valuable lessons. For instance . . . that you are an incredibly selfish and deceptive man.” She turned to Simon. “What would our profilers call that?”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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