“You come with me.” Her mustachioed policeman was back, this time beckoning her from her seat. Alice reluctantly pulled on her shoes and followed him down a bleak, gray corridor, until the chatter from the lobby could no longer be heard, and there were several thick doors between her and daylight.
“What will happen to me now?” she asked, looking around. They were passing holding cells: narrow spaces with cinderblock walls and tall metal grates sliding across every compartment. People were sleeping on narrow benches, or slumped in the corner, gazing balefully at her as they passed.
The man directed her into an empty cell at the end of the row, and Alice had no choice but to follow his command. He unlocked her handcuffs, and then, in a swift, surprising gesture, shrugged off his navy jacket and slung it around her shoulders, warm from his stocky body. He looked at her, with what could almost be sympathy. “Now, you wait.”
The bars screeched as he pulled the grate closed.
Hours passed. Alice soon gave up attempts to sleep on the narrow bench; instead, she lay, staring at the stained gray ceiling and wondering why it was she felt so calm. The specter of more paperwork and threatening policemen still loomed, and she wasn’t even sure if help was on the way—Alice knew she should be huddled there in a panic, but ever since her alter ego, Angelique, had infected her system with strength and an imperious tone, she hadn’t felt any of her early cold fear. She had spent her life saving everybody else from their tangled messes, hadn’t she? So why wouldn’t she be capable of handling this one, too?
Yes, Alice decided, stretching into a new, position. If there was one thing this trip to Rome had taught her, it was that she could deal with whatever events came her way—be they irate hoteliers, impatient police officers, or even seductive young men…
The more she thought about it, the more Alice realized that there might be another lesson too. Don’t get caught.
***
By morning, she had settled into a vaguely comfortable position hanging backward off the bench, with her bare legs stretched at a right angle up the wall in front of her. The mustachioed policeman was replaced by a baby-faced trainee, who added a scratchy blanket to her haul and provided a tray of coffee, yogurt, and a halfhearted fruit cup.
Alice nibbled on them without complaint as she contemplated her next move—once she was released, of course. From what she could glean of her interview, Ella had taken recommendations for hotels around Amalfi before fleeing: “Positano,” the policeman had repeated several times. Perhaps that was a town Ella planned to go, or a derogatory term for British criminals, but either way, following Ella’s route south seemed to make the most sense now that—
“Well, isn’t this a Kodak moment?”
She jerked her head up at the sound, losing her balance and sliding into an ungraceful heap on the floor.
Righting herself quickly, Alice stared up at the unlikely guest, looking at her from the other side of the bars with a definite smirk of amusement on his lips. She blinked, but the apparition remained—Nathan.
Chapter Twenty
“What are you doing here?” Alice struggled to her feet.
“That’s a great welcome. It’s lovely to see you too.” Nathan stood aside, waiting while the policeman unlocked the heavy grate. He glanced around the cell. “Of course, I can always go, if you’re enjoying the alone time…”
“No, don’t!” Alice quickly pulled on her shoes, joyful. “I’m sorry, I just…wasn’t expecting you.”
“And I wasn’t expecting a call from Stefan at five in the morning saying you’d got yourself thrown in jail.” Nathan ushered her down the long corridor. “You’re lucky: I was in Geneva, tracking some useless embezzlement case. I figured my suit of armor could use a polish.”
Up close, she could see that Nathan wasn’t quite as relaxed as he seemed. There was day-old stubble on his face, and his shirt had heavy wrinkles in it; his broad shoulders were tense. At that moment he was officially Alice’s favorite person in the world. If he’d brought coffee, she would have recommended him for sainthood.
“Well, I definitely appreciate it.” Alice beamed. “I’m not usually one to play damsel, but God, if ever there was a moment I needed a white knight…”
Her heels tapped on the polished floor as they hurried through the main lobby. It was busier in daylight, full of people waiting, the earlier, ominous atmosphere now nothing but cheerful chaos. “Wait, I have to…” Alice shrugged off the jacket and looked around, trying to find the mustachioed man. “And my purse. They took it when they booked me in.”
“Already taken care of.” Nathan turned back and then stared at what she assumed was the full force of the red dress. “No wonder you got arrested,” he murmured.
The fact that he had just likened her to a prostitute was not lost on Alice. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” she informed him, her gratitude dimming slightly. Presenting the jacket to the desk clerk, she stumbled through some rudimentary sign language to convey her meaning before turning back to Nathan, a little more wary this time. He was staring at her bare legs with less than a virtuous expression. Sainthood, perhaps, would wait.
Nathan held the front door open in a gesture of exaggerated chivalry. “After the lady.”
“And there I was just thinking you’d called me a whore,” Alice quipped as she bounded down the front steps. But it was impossible to stay annoyed: outside, it was a glorious morning, with blue skies and a fresh breeze. Ah, breeze. She closed her eyes and turned her face up toward the sun. Six hours in a gloomy cell had certainly renewed her appreciation for natural light.
When she opened her eyes, Nathan was looking at her with that same expression from before, equal parts bemusement and disapproval.
“What?”
“You shouldn’t have taken off like this. Stefan didn’t even know you’d gone.”
“Says the man who invites strange women away on a whim,” Alice replied drily, following him toward a sleek, dark car. They’d avoided the subject of Paris and his proposition for so long, but she didn’t see the point anymore. “You’re hardly the poster boy for reliability.”
Nathan coughed. “But you thought that was crazy,” he pointed out. “So why this?”
Alice shrugged. “I took a philosophy class once.”
He looked blank. “What does that have to do with anything?”