The room hadn’t changed much other than newer floral brocade linens, the priceless French Provencal antiques still elegant and feminine. Clothes were tossed across one bed just as she and Linette had done on weekends, though they’d kept the room neat all week. Nostalgia flowed over her in slow waves, reminding her of happy nights sharing dreams and sad times once Linette disappeared.
Carlos moved around the room silent as a ghost.
Both of these beds and dressers had photos, books, nail polish, hairbrushes, and other items scattered about. If one bed was Amelia’s, the school still expected her to return.
A humming noise drew her attention to the loo. The fan was on, which meant…
Carlos stepped backward just as the commode flushed.
She cringed at the noise.
He had her out in the hallway in half a second. The sound of the bathroom door opening and shutting came through the wood separating them. They barely got out fast enough.
Carlos took a step the way they had come when a door to another room between them and the turn for the stairwell opened.
A young woman with long, silky brown hair backed out of the room, closing the door behind her. She fiddled with the lock.
Something whispered from Carlos’s lips that Gabrielle bet was a curse. If they went the other way, the student might report strangers in the hall and LaCrosse would immediately know who they were by the description.
If they walked forward, they’d have to interact, and any lie might hang Gabrielle if the student told someone.
She clenched Carlos’s hand, fighting a panic attack. Didn’t take a genius to figure the probability of escaping without notice was too small to calculate.
What would LaCrosse do if he heard about this?
Sweat trickled down her collar.
Carlos started forward, pulling her with him. Her heart bounced in her chest. What was he going to do?
When they were within ten feet of the girl, she must have heard them approaching. She swung around with a wide-eyed look that washed away when surprise burst across her face.
“Gabrielle, what are you doing here?”
SEVENTEEN
ME? WHAT ARE you doing here?” Gabrielle demanded.
Babette flung herself into Gabrielle’s arms. “I sent you an e-mail that I was being exiled. Why didn’t you call me?”
“Who is she?” Carlos asked at the same moment Babette said, “Who is he?”
Gabrielle took a breath, hugged her half sister to her, then looked around. “Oh, dear. Do you have a roommate?” she asked Babette quietly.
“Yes, but she’s eating right now. I don’t like the food in the meal hall so I keep snacks stashed here.” Babette kept her voice down, picking up quickly on the conspiratorial atmosphere.
Gabrielle bet her sister’s resistance to dining in the common area had more to do with being new than the food since the school had fabulous chefs.
“Let’s talk in your room.” Gabrielle glanced at Carlos. His lips were drawn in one unhappy line, but he nodded.
“Sure.” Babette opened the door and closed it as soon as everyone was inside. “So what’s going on? How did you get permission to visit? I was told that would take forever and an act of parliament to get approved.”
“Babette is my sister,” Gabrielle told Carlos, stalling while she came up with an answer for why she was in the dorm. She turned to Babette. “He is-”
“-her bodyguard,” Carlos answered for Gabrielle, which reminded her to be careful about what she shared.
“Really?” Babette’s animated face crumpled with worry. “Has that scumbag tried to hurt you?”
“No, I, uh…” Gabrielle looked to Carlos for help.
“Scumbag?” he asked, not helping one bloody bit.
“Roberto, her ex-husband, I told Gabby he had to be behind those attacks. Don’t you know who you’re protecting her from?” Babette glowered at Carlos, who cut his eyes at Gabrielle as if she should now help him.
She crossed her arms in silence.
“Yes, I do know about him,” Carlos lied since Gabrielle hadn’t shared that much about Roberto with him or his black-op friends. “I’m here to ensure he doesn’t even try. Gabrielle’s here to help the school with their computer system and wanted to see her old dorm room again, but there’s a couple girls in it. This is a stuffed-up bunch so we don’t want them to know we were over here. LaCrosse would probably get his panties in a wad.”
What a brilliant story. Gabrielle’s knees were weak with relief.
“You can trust me. I won’t tell a soul, especially not the head troll.” Babette delivered that with all the sincerity of an accomplice. Then her gaze softened when she took full measure of Carlos to the point of ogling.
“Don’t speak disrespectfully of Monsieur LaCrosse.” Annoyance heated Gabrielle’s neck at yet another female drooling over Carlos, but she couldn’t fault an impressionable teen.
It was his fault anyhow. A woman couldn’t possibly take in all of him in just one glance. But her younger sister had been taught better manners. Gabrielle cleared her throat, pulling Babette’s focus back to her.
“Why didn’t LaCrosse mention your sister?” Carlos asked.
“He probably assumed I knew.” Gabrielle shrugged.
“Do you know the girls in Gabrielle’s old room?” he said in a voice as smooth as fine cognac and loaded with just as much intoxicating charm.
Gabrielle sent a sharp glance of warning at him for turning that power on her little sister.
He winked at her. The bugger.
“I wanted Gabrielle’s room, but all Papa remembered was that she had been on this floor.” Babette’s attention never moved from Carlos as she pushed the long sleeves of her gray T-shirt back to her wrists and smoothed her hands over the jeans she wore. “Papa never said much about her time in this dungeon. Which room?”
“Two ten.” Carlos smiled and Babette’s cheeks flushed pink, then she looked away.
Gabrielle knew he was trying to get information while they were here, but her maternal instincts surfaced when it came to her sisters. She kicked her foot against his ankle.
His jaw clenched, but his understanding expression never wavered except for the eyebrow he lifted.
Babette missed the silent exchange. She was staring off in thought, nibbling on the corner of a fingernail, then pulled her hand away and snapped her fingers. “Beatrice and Amelia. Beatrice and I have classes together. She’d probably let you take a look at your old room if she’s there. I’ve only met Amelia at lunch a couple times. Talk about an extreme mouth. She’s got an opinion on everything to do with civil rights.”
Gabrielle smothered a chuckle. Babette had to be sorely put out to meet someone more opinionated than herself. Carlos was far better at this espionage part than her, but she picked up the thread he’d started and guided Babette back on topic.
“No, no, I don’t want anyone to see me here,” Gabrielle assured her sister. “So these girls are friends of yours?”
“Beatrice is okay.” Always animated, Babette moved her hands up, shoving hair off her face, then she fiddled with the edge of her T-shirt and finally settled her hands at her hips, fingers hooking the top of her jeans. “Her mum is a duchess who just remarried, so she got dumped here while the luuuv birds have a first year alone. Bet she’s here longer. Amelia’s a dorfy one. Beatrice doesn’t really know her since they just got moved in together. I’m betting Amelia probably got tossed by her last roomie. I don’t want anything to do with her.”
“Why?” Gabrielle asked.
“Because the one time I tried to have a conversation with her she said…” Babette paused then straightened her posture, lifted her chin, and pulled her hands together in front of herself emulating a formal stance that was in direct contrast with her usual slouch. She raised her voice and said in an overdone snippy accent, “Biting one’s nails is a terrible habit and socially unacceptable.”
