"I received a message from Guillaume, my contact in Paris, this morning." His lips curled bitterly. "It was my morning to receive unpleasant correspondence."

"It shouldn't have been unpleasant for you. You wanted him dead."

"I didn't want him murdered by Raoul Cambre. I wanted him to lead me to Cambre."

"And did he do it? How else would this Guillaume know that Cambre had killed Deville?"

"By following Cambre himself. Guillaume was watching an artist, Jacques-Louis David, who went scurrying to a Raoul Bonille after being visited by a man Guillaume suspected was Deville. Bonille met with Deville one evening at a cafe near the Seine. It was Deville's last meeting on earth."

Josette shivered. "You're sure?"

"Guillaume is sure."

"And this David had something to do with it?"

"Directly or indirectly. He did know Raoul Bonille. And Guillaume is almost certain that Bonille is Cambre." His gaze narrowed on her face. "You're very interested in David."

Josette turned to face him. "You're telling me the truth? You're not trying to trick me into betraying Cassie and Lani?"

"Have I ever lied to you?"

"No." She moistened her lips. "But this is different. I know you've always hated Deville."

"Do you want to see Guillaume's note?"

She met his gaze, then slowly shook her head. "But I had to be certain."

"They mentioned this David?"

She nodded. "They talked about him on the boat. Cassie said that her father would go to him first. She planned on contacting him as soon as she reached Paris."

"Christ."

"You think he'll tell Cambre?"

"There's not much doubt." His lips tightened. "And Cambre doesn't want to be found. He's already killed one man to prevent it."

"But Cassie doesn't want to find anyone but her father." Then Josette nodded as she thought it through. "But one will lead to the other."

"As day follows night. Do you know where they're planning on staying?"

"They had no idea. A pension near David's residence…"

He turned and strode down the dock.

Josette trotted beside him. "Where are you going?"

"Where do you think I'm going? Paris. Bradford is waiting for me on the ship now."

"I want to go with you."

"You'll stay here."

"You're blaming me for their being in danger. Well, maybe I am to blame, but all this hatred seemed wrong. I didn't know this would happen-"

"I know you didn't." He wearily looked at her. "I don't blame you. Maybe Bradford is right and it's just fate." His jaw clenched. "But I won't have you running about Paris in danger, too. You'll stay here and take care of Kapu and Morgana. Cassie wouldn't thank you for leaving her horses to the stable boys, would she?"

"No, I guess not." A frown wrinkled her forehead. "But I don't like being left behind. I'll be frightened for you."

"Good-then maybe you won't act so hastily again."

"You're not being kind."

"I don't feel kind." His stride lengthened as they approached the stable. "If I wasn't more frightened than you ever dreamed of being, I'd have tanned your hide until you couldn't sit down for a month."

"You're frightened?" She gave up trying to match his stride and called after him, "I've never known you to be frightened of anything, Jared."

"Then enjoy the experience. I certainly don't." He disappeared into the stable.

"I'm sorry, mademoiselle." David gave Cassie an entirely winning smile. "I regret I've not had the opportunity of renewing my acquaintance with your father. It's not surprising, since we did not know each other well."

"But you did know Raoul Cambre very well," Lani said. "And we have reason to believe Charles will want to find Monsieur Cambre."

"Impossible." David sighed. "Alas, Raoul and I drifted apart after your father left for Tahiti. Raoul was always a solitary man."

"Then you have no idea where he is?" Cassie asked.

"Not the slightest." His gaze shifted quickly to Lani, and he changed the subject. "You're quite lovely. Did Charles ever paint you?"

"No, Charles was interested only in painting landscapes."

"A great mistake. I've done one landscape in my entire career. An artist has a duty to himself and history to mirror life. I have all the great men of France begging me to paint them."

"How fortunate for you," Lani said without expression.

"Not fortune, genius." He added quickly, "Or so I'm told. Even Napoleon praises my-"

"If my father has not contacted you yet, he will do so soon," Cassie interrupted. "You'll advise us when that happens."

"Please," Lani interjected, changing the demand to a plea. "It's very important, monsieur."

"He will not come to me," he said peevishly. "I told you he would not. I'm a very busy man. Why must you all bother-" He broke off and forced a smile. "You must understand my impatience if you reside with my friend Charles. Artists pay heed to the demands of the soul, not of the world."

"Except when Napoleon beckons you back to the world," Cassie said dryly. She rose to her feet and moved toward the door. "We'll be waiting for word from you."

Lani followed Cassie to the door. "Thank you for your time, monsieur."

"It's very valuable time," he said pointedly. "I have no desire to waste it."

Lani gave him another dazzling smile. "We'll try not to trouble you."

He grunted and had turned away before she shut the door.

"I think from now on I'll do the talking," Lani told Cassie. "You were less than courteous."

"He was lying." Cassie strode toward the hired carriage. "I know it."

"You wouldn't have to be a seer," Lani said. "He does not lie well."

"I think Papa was here."

Lani nodded as she seated herself in the carriage. "Which means that David was lying either at Charles's request… or that of someone else."

Cassie absently motioned for the driver to go. "You mean Raoul Cambre."

"Possibly."

Fear iced through Cassie. "Dear God, I hope not." She stuck her head out the window and called to the coachman, "Pull around the corner and stop."

"What are you doing?" Lani asked.

"David may go to Papa to warn him we're inquiring after him." She didn't want to voice the other alternative. "We'll wait here and see if he does."

"And then follow him?"

Cassie hopped out of the carriage. "I'll go to the café across the street from David's residence and watch the front door. You stay here in the carriage. When he comes out, I'll join you."

She didn't wait for an answer but moved quickly toward the corner.

"I'd forgotten what abominable taste Guillaume has in drinking establishments," Bradford said, looking around the crowded waterfront tavern. "There's so much smoke one can't even see the ceiling."

"Or the man at the next table," Jared said. "Which is the point when you don't want your presence noted." His gaze searched the room. "Where the devil is he? His note said he'd be here every evening until I contacted him."

"Then he'll be here. Guillaume may be a trifle crude, but he's very reliable."

"Crude? You call me crude?" Jared turned to see Guillaume a few feet away. The potbellied Frenchman belched with deliberate loudness. "I'm not crude- I'm merely too honest to comply with your fancy English manners."

"Where have you been?" Jared asked impatiently.

Guillaume glowered at Bradford. "Finding out information from my crude associates."

"What information?"

Guillaume waited, staring hard at Bradford.

"My abject apologies," Bradford said with a sigh.

Guillaume shrugged. "It's only what one would expect of the English."

"One also expects them to pay through the nose for information," Jared said. "What news of Cambre?"

"He had another visit from David today. According to my man, Valbain, he appeared very annoyed."