The Paris Secret by Angela Henry

eye and said hello. But I wasn’t at home. I ignored her and turned back to the window. Her cigarette-roughened voice startled me.
    “ Est ce vous? ” She gestured toward the newspaper in her hands.
    “ Je ne parle pas francais. ” I said, ignoring the paper and hoping she’d get the hint that I didn’t speak her language and wanted to be left alone. The woman was undeterred and quickly switched to English.
    “She could be your twin, no?” She gestured again to the front page of Le Monde.
    Frustrated, I finally turned to look at what she was pointing at. The shock made me sit upright. Splashed across the front page of the newspaper were two composite sketches of a man and a woman. Simon and me. And though the sketches were pretty generic and lacking small details such as the diamond stud in Simon’s left ear and the small beauty mark above my right eyebrow, there was clearly enough detail for anyone observant enough to recognize the resemblance. The headline read, Couples cherchés dans la mort de tir à Versailles. The woman was watching me closely and I knew I had to keep my cool if for no other reason than so she could translate what the article said. I smiled at her and willed my voice not to shake.
    “Maybe a little around the eyes. But my mouth is fuller don’t you think?” I said with a nonchalant laugh.
    “Perhaps.” The woman looked skeptical.
    I sure hoped no one was listening to our conversation. But the only person close to us was a filthy bearded man with grime-encrusted fingernails who was sleeping in the seat across the aisle.
    “Who are they? Can you read it for me?” I leaned forward. She seemed more than happy to oblige. It took everything in me to remain calm as she relayed the grim details. The headline read, Couple Sought in Shooting Death at Versailles. According to the article, a maintenance worker at the Chateau de Versailles, identified as Bruno Allard, was shot and killed during a car jacking on the palace grounds. The only witness to the crime, who asked to remain anonymous, saw the couple attack and shoot Monsieur Allard when he tried to stop them from stealing his maintenance truck. The witness tried to stop the couple from leaving but was knocked down by the truck as it fled the scene. The composite sketches were based on the witness’s descriptions. The article went on to say authorities were still looking for the truck and that the couple was armed and highly dangerous. The witness was treated for minor injuries at a local hospital and released.
    “ Mon Dieu, ” exclaimed the woman when she finished reading me the article. “What is the world coming to? So many crazies roaming the streets.”
    She could say that again. I’d stepped out of the frying pan into a bonfire. And by helping me, Simon was getting burned, too. Not wanting to leave a witness behind, the asshole who killed Juliet and attacked me, must have killed that poor statue cleaner after we drove off in his truck. Juliet Rice and Bruno Allard’s killer was a material witness while Simon and I were Bonnie and Clyde.
    “That’s horrible. I hope they catch them.” I shook my head. We arrived at the next stop, which wasn’t the one I needed but I had to get off so I could think. I stood to go. “ Merci, madame. ” She nodded but was still looking at me strangely and I had to work hard to keep from running out the door.
    I paced up and down the metro platform trying to figure out what to do next. If the newspapers had just hit the newsstand as I suspected, then it was possible Simon hadn’t seen it yet. He could be walking around looking for me, unaware that he was a wanted man. I couldn’t decide whether I should go to Luc’s apartment to warn him since, after all, he had saved my life, or go to the U.S. Embassy as planned and leave him to his own devices. After all, he was the one who refused to go to the police in the first place. Not that it would have mattered since it was the “witness’s” word