Page 102 of Sleigh Bells and Snowstorms
“Occupied!” called a woman’s voice from behind the door.
“Sorry!”
As I stepped back to wait, a sudden cold breeze made my cheeks and nose tingle again. Before I could turn to see where it had come from, someone grabbed me, jerking me to the side.
A large hand clamped over my mouth. I tried to struggle, but a strong arm wrapped around me. I dropped the hangers and threw my body weight forward, trying to break his hold. But he was too strong. In seconds, I was dragged out a door into the falling snow.
CHAPTER 26
Jensen
Standing in front of the store window, idly watching the snow fall, I listened to the women cackling behind me. They were certainly having a good time. A little loud, but I figured it was Christmas. If they’d enjoyed a few drinks with lunch before going shopping, who could blame them?
My phone buzzed. Maple. I wasn’t going to be able to hear a thing, so I stepped outside into the cold.
“Go ahead,” I answered.
“Necklace is en route, and the client has been notified. They’re thrilled, by the way.”
“Good. Shouldn’t you be off celebrating?”
“I am, in fact. But I wanted to keep you updated. And to let you know you’ll have another crack at Archer Prince. He didn’t show in Paris. Your hunch to stay where you are was apparently a good one.”
“He wasn’t there? Did he send someone else?”
“No. They must have called it off before the meeting happened.”
“Or it wasn’t in Paris.”
“That’s possible. At this point, we simply don’t know.”
“All right. Merry Christmas, Mrs. Exton.”
“Merry Christmas, Mr. Lakes. Good work.”
A gust of wind blew the snow sideways as I ended the call, and I shivered, hunkering down in my coat against the cold. Natalie and I probably needed to get back to her place before the storm got any worse.
After pocketing my phone, I stepped back into the shop and the cacophony of tipsy women. I cast a glance around but didn’t see Natalie. She was probably in one of the fitting rooms.
To keep my no-peeking promise, I turned toward the window again. But something bothered me, like the pinch of a splinter I couldn’t get out. Why hadn’t Archer Prince been in Paris?
There were any number of explanations. It could have been a ruse, and the sale could have occurred elsewhere. Or he could have gotten wind that my organization knew. Perhaps it was bad information to begin with. After all, it seemed unlikely that the man I’d been chasing for years was actually in possession of one of the most famous stolen works of art in modern history.
Another minute went by, and the laughing began to grate on my nerves. My shoulders grew tense, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was missing something.
Where was Natalie?
I glanced back into the store again, this time looking carefully. The other women still congregated around the fitting room. Natalie was nowhere to be seen. I’d promised I wouldn’t look, but I couldn’t ignore my gut any longer.
The fitting room was in one corner of the shop, and I made my way over there first. A woman threw the curtain aside as I approached, striking a pose in a bright red dress to the cheers of her friends.
“Excuse me, ladies,” I said. “Is this the only fitting room?”
Two of the women gaped at me as if I’d spoken a foreign language. Another looked around but didn’t answer my question.
Finally, the woman in the red dress spoke up. “I think this is it.”
One of the women might have said something else, but I turned, my sense of alarm growing. The shop wasn’t that large. Where could Natalie have gone?
