Chapter 12
Amelie was shocked at the amount of equipment, arms and protective gear the Brotherhood Protectors had in the room they called the arsenal. “You could wage your own war with the stuff you have here.”
“That’s not our purpose.” Maurice helped sift through a drawer of lethal-looking knives and pulled out one that appeared to be plastic. He found a sheath for it and held it up. “It’s better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You’re taking a toy knife into a gunfight?”
“It won’t be a gunfight. Guests at the cathedral have to pass through a metal detector to get inside. Otherwise, I’d load you up with body armor, a helmet and bubble wrap.”
“Nothing says love like the gift of body armor and bubble wrap.” She ran her fingers up his chest. “You like me better alive, I take it.”
“Much better.” He strapped the knife scabbard to her wrist and pulled the long sleeve of her T-shirt over it.
He reached back into the drawer of knives and found a thin set of three with a scabbard and strapped it to his forearm.
Moving to another drawer, he extracted several long zip ties, folded them and tucked them into his pocket.
In yet another drawer, he selected a small plastic file and slid it in with the three knives.
He grabbed a mini can of mace and tossed it to Amelie. “Careful where you aim that mace.”
She tucked it into her jeans pocket.
“Do I get to carry a gun?” Luis asked as he inspected the racks of weapons, including AR-15s, mini machine guns and handguns of all shapes and sizes.
“Have you ever fired one?” Maurice asked.
“No,” Luis admitted. “Although I’m sure I could figure it out. How hard could it be? You point and pull the trigger.”
“No guns for him,” Amelie said.
“My thoughts, exactly,” Maurice said with a grimace. “Tell you what, Luis, when this blows over, I’ll take you out for target practice. If you like it, we’ll get you signed up for firearms training and a safety class.”
“I’d love that, but I’ll have to wait until I have a better handle on my work schedule.”
“The offer is open,” Maurice said, handing Luis earbuds. “This is your communication device that’ll keep you in contact with the team. Keep chatter to a minimum.”
“Yes, sir.” Luis fit the communication device into his ear. “Testing. Testing. Can you hear me?”
Maurie pressed a hand to his ear. “Very loud and clear.” He handed a set to Amelie.
She placed them in her ears. With a wink, she flipped her hair. “Hey sexy, can you hear me?”
“Affirmative,” he said. “Along with everyone else on this frequency.
“Really?” she squeaked.
“You bet,” Remy said.
“You can talk sexy to me anytime, as long as my wife, the senator’s daughter, approves.” Beau chuckled. “Coming over to the dark side, are you?”
“If wearing body armor and breaking into church towers counts,” Amelie lifted her shoulders and let them fall, “I guess I am.”
The rest of the team performed a comm check, verifying all radios were sending and receiving.
“We’ll take my truck into New Orleans,” Maurice said.
“Luis and I will take my SUV,” Xavier said. “That way, we arrive separately. And since we’ve purchased our entrance tickets online, we don’t have to stand in line.”
Maurice drew a deep breath. “We’ll converge inside at the base of the clock tower.”
“The rest of us will arrive in my SUV,” Remy said. “We’ll park in a parking garage, split up and take point around the exterior of the building. We’ll be there if you need us.”
Maurice checked his watch. “Takes a little over an hour to get to New Orleans and park. That will leave us two hours inside the cathedral. Hopefully, it won’t take that long to find what we’re looking for.”
“Everyone ready?” Remy asked.
His team, Luis and Amelie all nodded as one.
“Let’s go!”
They filed out of the boat factory, loaded into vehicles and left, taking different routes through town before they headed southeast into New Orleans.
Amelie sat quietly in the passenger seat, wondering what they’d find and if they’d meet any resistance from the National Park Service or people interested in owning the long-lost Monet.
“Worried?” Maurice asked.
She nodded. “A little. I’m more anxious than anything to see how this treasure hunt works out.”
He reached across the console for her hand. “Promise you’ll stay close to me. I can’t protect you if you’re more than three feet away.”
She nodded. “Three feet or less.” She squeezed his hand. “I feel safe when I’m with you.”
He chuckled. “I feel all kinds of crazy when I’m with you.”
“Is that a bad thing?” she asked.
“It’s a I’ve-never-felt-more-alive thing.” He glanced toward her. “Like the sun finally came out.”
She smiled. “I like having you around.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Just to make you feel safe?”
“And so much more,” she said softly. “I’ve spent most of my adult life working toward a goal, a career, a business and haven’t taken the time to work on me.” She smiled at the road ahead. “You showed me what I was missing. Now that I know what it is, I can work on that.”
“And what was it you were missing?”
“Like you, I was missing someone who makes me feel alive. In my case, I wasn’t necessarily in a black fog of grief, but I was in a tunnel headed for my career goals, never looking left or right at the things that could make me happy along the way.
” She drew in a breath and let it out. “Now, I understand the saying that it’s not the destination or the journey that makes life great.
It’s the people.” She looked down at the scarred hand she was holding. “Thank you.”
All too soon, they entered New Orleans and navigated the busy streets, arriving at a parking garage close enough to walk to Jackson Square to reach their goal of the St. Louis Cathedral.
Amelie’s stomach churned as she pushed the truck door open.
Maurice appeared in front of her, placed his hands on her waist and lowered her to the ground in a slow slide down his body.
Her stomach churned in an entirely different way as her feet touched the ground.
Ever so gently, Maurice brushed a kiss across her forehead and whispered so softly she couldn’t be sure of the words. She thought they sounded like, Be careful, my love.
How could that be? He couldn’t commit. His love had died in his arms. He wasn’t ready to move on to anything more than casual sex.
Casual, mind-blowing, don’t-stop-now loving she didn’t want to live without but might have to when he sank back down in the black hell of survivor’s guilt.
She lifted her face and caught his lips with hers in a brief kiss. “Promise me something?”
He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Promise what?”
“That when this is all over, you’ll forgive yourself for being alive and get on with the job of living.”
His lips tipped upward. “Every minute I spend with you, I get a little closer.”
“And if I’m not with you anymore? Will you still feel the same? Will you be done with oppressive sorrow? Ready to embrace happiness, however it best manifests for you.
Maurice’s eyes narrowed, and his brow formed a deep V. “You’re going to be okay. We’ll get through this.”
“Yeah. Of course. I just want to know you’ll be okay if we go our separate ways.” Because I won’t be. She bit down on her tongue to keep from blurting it out.
“What are you talking about? We’re not done, are we?” A ruddy red stained his cheeks. “If that’s how you feel, you picked a helluva a time to tell me.”
Amelie shook her head. “No, not at all. I just know this whole thing we’ve had was built on air. No commitment. I’ve seen you smile and laugh over the past few days. I care about you and want you to be happy with or without me.”
He stared hard into her eyes. Then he crushed her to his chest and claimed her mouth in a searing kiss that burned all the way through to her heart.
The earbuds in Amelie’s ears crackled. “X and K heading in. Here’s to breaking rules. See you on the wrong side.”
“We’re not done,” Maurice said, the fierceness fading into tenderness. He brushed his injured hand along the curve of her jaw. Once more, he gathered her close, this time gently and touched his lips to hers. “Not done.”
He took her hand in his and led her across Jackson Square to the entrance of St. Louis Cathedral, where he held up his cell phone to show the online entry tickets for both of them. After the gate guard scanned their QR codes, they passed through the metal detector without setting it off.
Inside the cathedral, Maurice touched a hand to Amelie’s back and guided her into the beautiful cathedral, aiming for the central clock and bell tower.
“M and A are in the building,” Maurice said softly, his voice filling Amelie’s ear.
“We’ve got your six,” Remy’s voice came through. “Go get it.”
This was it. The chance to bring the work of a master back into the light. A thrill of anticipation rippled through Amelie as she strode alongside Maurice through the cavernous cathedral.
Along the way, Amelie forced a smile and pretended to admire paintings, stained glass and the beauty of the architecture around her. Any other time, she wouldn’t have to fake it.
Now that she was on the trail of a lost treasure that might or might not be hidden in the clock tower, she pushed her personal worries to the back burner and forged ahead.
Bells rang, announcing the quarter hour. The sound echoed long after the bells stopped ringing.
“Fifteen minutes until they ring again,” Maurice noted.
They wouldn’t want to be in the bell tower when the next bells tolled. The sound would be deafening.
They came to a door tucked into a shadowy corner. The sign posted on the panel read AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.
Amelie reached for the knob as Maurice automatically reached for the file in the knife scabbard.
Expecting the door to be locked, Amelie was surprised when the knob turned freely. She pulled the door open and looked at Maurice.
He stepped around her and took point, trading the file for one of the knives, arming himself in case they ran into trouble.