Free Code Red Lipstick by Sarah Sky

her off? It was hard to tell.
    â€œThese are the rules,” Nathan said smoothly. “I’ll let you stay in Paris as long as you behave yourself. Get on with your modelling and stay out of my way. I’ve retrieved a copy of your itinerary from Primus’s computer system so I’ll know where you are every minute of every day. I’ve also placed an undercover agent close to you. If you don’t turn up for something, if you’re even five minutes late, they’ll report back to me.”
    â€œI wouldn’t—”
    â€œThat’s good, because I don’t give second chances. You mess up, you’ll be going home in handcuffs to meet my boss, Mrs T. I wouldn’t recommend that encounter. She’s nowhere near as nice as me.”
    Jessica snorted. Nice wasn’t a word she’d ever use to describe him. She could think of plenty of other adjectives, though.
    Nathan’s eyes narrowed as if he could read her thoughts. He gestured to his mobile on the table.
    â€œDoes your grandmother even know what happened to you yesterday? Or that your dad’s gone completely off the grid in Paris? I can ring her right now and enlighten her. It’s your choice. How do you want to play this?”
    Choice? She scowled at him. He’d played his trump card. Mattie would kill her if she found out what she was up to. She dreaded her more than the mysterious Mrs T, or even him.
    â€œI can behave myself,” she said finally. God, she hated him.
    â€œGood. In return, I’ll let you know if I find out anything about your dad.” He picked up his paper again.
    Jessica stared out of the window. In the reflection, she could see him staring at her with a look of sheer contempt. She didn’t believe him for a second. Why would he tell her anything?

Nathan shared the car from the station and dropped her off at her hotel. He’d given her a card with his mobile number. Scribbled on the back were the details for his hotel. The Ritz. Clearly expenses weren’t an issue at MI6. Lucky him . Her hotel wasn’t as grand but it was still pretty cool. Her room had funky black and white furniture and a large flat-screen TV. Normally, she’d raid the minibar for chocolate and crisps, watch rubbish soaps for hours and soak in a hot bath, but she couldn’t have fun today. She had too much to do.
    First, she texted Mattie to say she was OK. It was tempting to text her PFB – Potential Future Boyfriend – too; it hadn’t been hard to get Jamie’s number after he’d left his mobile lying about in art class. But what would she say to him?
    Hiya. I’m in Paris, dodging MI6 and trying to find my dad, who’s a suspected murderer/traitor. How r u?
    What would she ever say to him?
    Stay away. I’m trouble.
    She didn’t have time for boys – even the best-looking one in the entire universe. She double-checked her dad’s mobile. Nothing, still voicemail. She fired up his iPad and did a geolocation trace on the phone. The SIM card had been removed or destroyed so she couldn’t pinpoint where he was. However, she could see the locations he’d made calls from over the last few days. He’d used his mobile a lot in his hotel and at a café, where he’d rung both their home phone and Mattie’s mobile on Saturday afternoon. It was probably worth a visit to see if the waiters remembered him. She didn’t recognize the other numbers – one was a mobile he’d called five times throughout Saturday. He’d made a call to it from AKSC that morning and been on the line for three minutes.
    So he had paid a visit to the company in his search for Sam.
    His last call was to the mystery mobile again, at 11.34 p.m. on Saturday. It was made from a location near his hotel. Could he have been heading back there when something happened? He went missing about the same time as Lara was found strangled in her hotel room, according