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With a disappointed oath, Lucien turned to run in pursuit, but Wyatt shouted out, "Hang on! I've got this!"
As Juliette jogged along, she saw now that the crowds were out of the way, her long-legged partner was capable of an astonishing turn of speed. He raced down the cobblestones, eating up the distance between himself and the fleeing man. He was going to reach him, and soon. He was leaving Lucien behind.
And then, Wyatt launched himself at the man in an all-American tackle, grabbing him around the legs, and causing him to crash to the ground.
Juliette's heart stopped for a moment as she witnessed it.
"Got you!" Wyatt cried, as the man shouted in panic.
Expertly, with the ease of long practice, Wyatt kept him down, pulling his arms behind him. By the time Juliette and Lucien ran up, Wyatt had him firmly handcuffed and was hauling him to his feet.
Juliette felt reluctantly impressed. That tackle had shown some serious technique and it had been very effective.
But Lucien looked darkly offended.
"I don't know what you are trying to do," he grumbled breathlessly. "Injure everyone? Get yourself a broken arm?"
Breathing hard, Wyatt shrugged, and Juliette was impressed all over again that he seemed to have shrugged off Lucien's criticism as if it didn't even affect him. "I got the suspect. Nobody's hurt. Now, where are we going to question him?"
Lucien, however, was not letting this go. He glowered at him, and then at Juliette.
“I have had enough of you two interfering in our case. You have added nothing of value. You messed up the approach to this suspect, and almost enabled this man to get away. Now you come with unnecessary theatrics in capturing him. This is not working. When we get back to headquarters, after we process this arrest, I am going to tell your bosses that you are not needed here.” Staring from one to the other, he added, emphatically, “We, the French police, will do this alone.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Juliette walked into the police station with a sense of deep foreboding.
This was all going wrong. Instead of working together, Lucien’s resentment toward them had reached a head, and he no longer wanted them on the case at all.
She was sweaty, scuffed, and sick of this conflict. While the men were arguing about who should have done what, Goldenface was far ahead, and laughing.
She’d hoped that the conflict might have simmered down in the time it took them to reach the police station, but it hadn’t. If anything, it had escalated.
While processing the American, whose name was revealed to be Ryan Blevins, Lucien had ignored the FBI agents and spoken only to the suspect.
He’d insisted on doing the search of his possessions together with a fellow officer and, hoping this would simmer the situation down, Juliette had agreed. She’d hoped with all her heart that the search might uncover something incriminating, but in the backpack, there had only been a camera, a couple of water bottles, and a girlie magazine. No gold paint.
Finally, he was ready to be escorted to the interview room. While the other police officers did that, Wyatt had done his best to redeem the situation.
“Look, all I did was ask the man a question,” he said. “I couldn’t exactly grab him before speaking to him, could I? You can get sued for that in the States, you know.”
“You could have gotten closer,” Lucien said through gritted teeth.
Juliette simply didn’t know how to rectify this. The Frenchman was oozing resentment from every pore, and it was very likely that he was going to contact the FBI in the States and ask for them to be withdrawn. Now, Wyatt had given him an excuse, by approaching the suspect and identifying himself as police when he was still far enough away to have enabled him to run.
Instead of acknowledging that Wyatt’s skillful tackle had redeemed the situation, Lucien was implying it had only made things worse. It wasn’t fair at all.
But Juliette was deeply worried that an adverse report now, would backfire on them. It might mean this important task force was sent straight back home with their tails between their legs. It might mean that Goldenface got away, free.
Suddenly, Juliette decided she couldn’t take this anymore. She and Wyatt had tried their best to be diplomatic and to smooth things over, to work with the French. They’d been bending over backwards, give or take a few unfiltered comments from Wyatt. But Lucien’s arrogance and attitude was way out of line.
“You can go,” he told them. “We will handle things from here.”
Juliette felt temper surge within her. She swung around to face him.
“We’re not going anywhere,” she threatened. “We were called in to help catch this killer, and we’re not boarding an airplane until he’s under arrest. You can do what you want and say what you want, but you can’t change that protocol, even if you try to manipulate the situation your way.”
Hands on hips, she stared angrily at Lucien. She could hear the fury in her own voice. Her dad had always said she was a fireball when she lost her temper, and she could see Lucien looked startled. Even Wyatt stepped back, as if wanting to keep out of range of her death glare.
