Page 71 of A Life Betrayed

“Why not?” Mathias said coldly. “You running your mouth almost put me six feet under.”

Once, he would have simply knocked him off. Quick, easy, a single shot between the eyes. But the window was narrowing fast, the opportunity to escape diminishing by the second. Mathias could not afford to make a mistake. It was always the last hurdle that tripped you. When you were tired and losing focus, errors were made. And the discovery of his second’s bullet-ridden body in the Quebec countryside would be a surefire way to send the full weight of federal law enforcement down on him.

Mathias got in the car and gunned the engine, leaving Jacques in the snow on the side of the road. By the time the man made it back to Montreal—if he made it back—Mathias would be long gone.

Chapter

Twenty-Seven

Frances had just turned off the highway into Montreal and was heading to the Quebec divisional office when she got the call from the security dispatch office at Montréal-Trudeau International Airport. She’d returned from her brief visit to Ottawa to meet with the deputy commissioner and had received instructions to stay on in the city until the end of the week. After that, she would head back to HQ and be reassigned to another case.

Part of her dreaded returning to her life in Ottawa. She’d replayed the interaction with Ethan in her mind, unable to shake the lingering humiliation. He’d been gracious—as expected—even offering to meet up for coffee when she was back in the city. Fortunately, she’d had the sense to refuse. After showing him the depths of her painful desperation, she thought it best for both of them that he keep his distance.

It wouldn’t take her long to pack up the Montreal apartment. She figured she’d dump everything she needed in the trunk of her car and let work figure out the rest. The divisional office would be happy to see the back of her. Frances certainly wasn’t expecting a going-away party.

“Inspector,” the airport security officer said over the phone as she slowed for a changing light. “We’ve received an electronic alert from the Air France counter that Mathias Beauvais haschecked into a flight departing for Paris at twenty hundred hours.”

There had been a list of things Frances was still working through in her wrap-up of the investigation. Following the deputy commissioner’s instruction after Mathias’s botched arrest, she’d already removed his plates from the automated recognition watchlist with Transport Canada. But she’d neglected to cancel the airport travel alerts she’d set up after securing his arrest warrant. Half convinced he’d run before they could take him in, Frances had figured it didn’t hurt to be proactive.

So, Mathias thinks he can just walk away from everything and leave the country, scot-free?The thought set off a wave of fury. Her hand might have been forced, but she still had some power.

Before she could think about what she was doing, Frances spoke. “Detain him. I’ll be there momentarily.”

It was blatant insubordination. She’d received clear instructions from Gill to suspend all activities associated with the investigation. There was no longer any reason—or legal precedent—for her to detain Mathias.

“Roger that, Inspector,” the security officer said and hung up.

Frances sat staring at the screen of her phone as though she’d imagined the call.I know it’s hard for you to admit when you’re beat.Behind her came a loud honk, then another, and she glanced up, startled, to see the light was green.

“Fuck it,” she muttered, making a hard turn through the intersection and heading back in the opposite direction, toward the airport, not entirely sure what she would do when she got there.

Mathias had said he’d be in touch, but knowing what was involved with a maneuver of this kind, Rayan had expected it to be some time before he heard from the man, so when he received a call from him the following afternoon, he was more than a little surprised. Mathias spoke quickly, and his tone was clipped. Rayan was to get his things, only what he could carry, and be at the airport in an hour. Mathias would meet him there. It was as though the entire plan had been condensed, launched forward at speed. But Rayan knew not to ask questions.

He was already half-packed, so it didn’t take him long to collect his things. He moved around the safe house, unplugging switches and turning off lights, not sure exactly what would happen to the apartment once he stepped out the door. Rayan walked several streets before hailing a taxi and paid in cash once the driver dropped him at the airport.

It was busy, and he took advantage of the crowds to blend in as he made his way through the terminal. Following Mathias’s instructions, he located the Air France counter and purchased a one-way ticket to Charles de Gaulle. They would travel separately, Rayan’s flight departing first, with Mathias following later in the evening.

Stepping back from the counter with his ticket, he caught a glimpse of Mathias standing by the book rack in a nearby convenience store. Their eyes met for an instant before Rayan looked away as though he hadn’t seen him. He walked casually toward the store, navigating around a couple wearing matching khaki shorts, and busied himself by examining a display of sunglasses.

“You’re on the flight at six?” Mathias asked quietly from across the aisle, his eyes lowered to the paperback he was idly flipping through.

“That’s right.”

“I’ll follow at eight,” Mathias said. “Everything else remains the same: wait forty-eight hours at the meeting point. Otherwise, continue on alone.”

The thought made Rayan’s throat constrict, but he’d agreed to the plan the evening Mathias had laid everything out at the safe house. At the time, they were accounting for contingencies so hypothetical Rayan hadn’t given them much weight. But here they were, only two days later, summoned by an urgency Mathias didn’t have time to explain, and suddenly the prospect that one of them might not make it out seemed very real.

He glanced over to see Mathias looking up, his gaze following a group of uniformed airport security personnel as they advanced across the terminal in their direction. Rayan felt his stomach drop.Fucking Allen.She had given him her word. That was what he got for trusting a cop.

Mathias snapped the book in his hand shut, tossed it back on the shelf, and strode past Rayan. “Go. I want you on that plane.”

“No.” Rayan’s hand shot out and grabbed his elbow.

“Of all the times to be difficult—” Mathias wrenched his arm free, and his face darkened in anger.

That look used to frighten Rayan, but not anymore. Nothing about the man frightened him anymore. “I’ve run before, and I don’t want that life if you’re not in it,” Rayan said, staring him down.

Mathias dug his fingers into Rayan’s shoulder, his face inches from his own. “And I don’t want this one if they take you too.” His expression briefly softened. “Do it for me.”

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