Free Stranded with a Spy by Merline Lovelace

it as a ‘suspicious’ death and conducting a full investigation, they’ve found no witnesses or evidence to indicate the fall was anything but accidental. The inventory of the deceased’s personal effects raised a red flag at Direction Centrale, however.”
    The hair on the back of Cutter’s neck lifted. France’s central director of police also served as head of their Interpol Bureau. As such, he played an integral role in combating international organized crime.
    “Turns out our boy Walters had a soggy piece of paper in his wallet. The writing on it was blurred and almost obliterated…”
    Surprise, surprise, Cutter thought wryly.
    “…but they managed to lift an address. It checks to a small-time hood in Marseilles with suspected ties to the Russian.”
    “Well, hell!”
    “I thought that might be your reaction,” Mike drawled. “I checked the schedule of the tour Walters and his buddies were on. After visiting the Normandy beaches, they were scheduled to cut south to Bordeaux, then west to Marseilles before hitting the Riviera and the casino at Monaco.”
    Gripping the phone, Cutter paced to the windows. The heavy drapes were open, the gauzy curtains fluttering in the damp breeze. He barely registered the chill blowing in as his mind ran with the possibilities.
    Had Walters’s horny tourist bit been an act? Was he the go-between designated to retrieve the disk from Mallory, either with or without her knowledge? Had he been instructed to deliver it to this thug in Marseilles?
    If so, Cutter had interfered by busting up that little scene in the alley. After which, he’d spirited Mallory away and sequestered her here in this isolated château.
    Then Walters had tumbled down a flight of steep steps. Was it an accident, or retribution for failing to retrieve the disk?
    The last possibility presupposed the Russian had someone else shadowing Walters and/or Mallory. If so, had that someone witnessed her car floating out to sea? Did they know the disk was still in the trunk?
    Dammit! It irritated the hell out of Cutter that he still had a helluva lot more questions than answers. Not the least of which was Mallory Dawes’s role in all of this.
    “You haven’t had any movement on the disk, have you?” he asked Mike.
    “Negative. It’s still resting at the bottom of the sea. I’ve confirmed that the rental agency isn’t going to attempt to raise the Peugeot, by the way. A salvage operation would cost more than the car is worth.”
    Frowning, Cutter turned away from the window and marshaled his thoughts.
    “Okay, here’s how I want to handle this. First, I’ll work from the assumption that Walters was the designated go-between, sent to retrieve the disk from Dawes and deliver it to this thug in Marseilles. Second, I’m going to assume his death was no accident. That means there was someone else on scene, someone who engineered Walters’s fall, either in retribution or anger over his bungled attempt. Third, unless and until a diver tries to retrieve the disk from the submerged vehicle, I’m assuming whoever wants the damned thing believes Dawes had it with her when she trudged up the ramp at Mont St. Michel to rendezvous with Walters.”
    “In which case, that someone has to believe she’s still got it with her.”
    “Exactly.”
    “So you’re going to use her as bait.”
    It wasn’t a question, nor was there a hint of censure in Mike’s voice. Cutter knew Hawk would do exactly the same given the circumstances. Staking out suspects like sacrificial goats was all part of the job. Cutter just wished this particular goat wasn’t starting to get to him. He hadn’t forgotten the fierce urge to touch her that had gripped him last night.
    “Don’t see that I have much choice,” he bit out. “This place is a modern-day fortress. The Russian can’t get to Mallory or the disk here. I’m taking her with me on my ‘business’ call to the local vintner you set me up with this morning.”
    “You got