Read Online Sidney Sheldon's Angel of the Dark by Sidney Sheldon, Tilly Bagshawe - Free Book Online Page A

widow just hops on a plane one morning and is never heard of again.”
    â€œYes, Matt, I know the story,” said Claire patiently.
    â€œBut doesn’t it scare you? The idea that all this”—Matt waved around the kitchen at his nephews, their schoolbooks, all the detritus of Claire’s full, busy life—“could be gone tomorrow? Gone.” He clapped his hands for emphasis. “Like it never was.”
    Claire was quiet for a long time. Finally she said, “I’m worried about you, Matt. I think you need to talk to someone.”
    Matt agreed. He needed to talk to someone all right.
    The problem was that the someone he needed to talk to lived in Lyon, France.

C HAPTER S IX
    H E GLANCED AT THE FLASHING BLUE lights in his rearview mirror and checked his speed. Sixty-five. A mere five over the limit, on a virtually empty stretch of road on the outskirts of the city.
    Petty. It was little stunts like this that gave the Lyonnais police a bad name. Rolling down the window to give the overzealous gendarme a piece of his mind, his frown changed to a smile.
    The officer in question was a woman. An extremely attractive woman. She had red hair—he had a thing for redheads—blue eyes and full breasts that not even her unflattering police uniform could fully conceal.
    â€œWhat’s your hurry, sir?”
    Oh, and the voice! Low and husky, the way that only Frenchwomen could do it. Perfect. The voice clinched it.
    He smiled flirtatiously. “Actually, Officer, I have a date.”
    â€œA date? You don’t say.” The gorgeous russet eyebrows went up. “Well, is she going to spoil if you don’t get there right this second?”
    â€œShe’s already spoiled.”
    Leaning out through the driver’s-side window, he kissed her passionately on the lips.
    â€œWhat time will you be home for dinner tonight, honey?” his wife asked him, when they finally came up for air.
    Danny McGuire grinned. “As soon as I can, baby. As soon as I can.”
    Â 
    F IFTEEN MINUTES LATER, STRIDING INTO I NTERPOL HQ late for his meeting, Danny hoped he wouldn’t have to stay too late. Céline looked so sexy in her tight blue Officier de la Paix uniform, it was painful having to drive away from her. She’d been in uniform the day they met and it was still the way Danny liked her best.
    Back in L.A. he’d never have dated someone else on the force. But here in France, everything was different. He’d moved here a decade ago, chasing a shadow. The shadow of Angela Jakes. He never found her. Instead Danny found Céline, love, French culture and cuisine, a rewarding career and a whole new life. Lyon was Danny McGuire’s home now and he loved it, more than he would once have believed possible.
    It had all been so different when he first arrived.
    Danny McGuire hated France. He hated it because he associated it with failure. His failure. The 1997 Jakes murder had been a remarkable case in many ways, not the least of which was that it was the first and only complete failure of Danny McGuire’s career. He’d never found the man who murdered Andrew Jakes in such a frenzied, sadistic fashion and who raped his stunning wife.
    Danny would never forget the morning he’d arrived at Lyle Renalto’s Beverly Hills mansion, pulling back the bedclothes to find the lawyer naked and in a state of obvious sexual arousal, laughing at him. Angela Jakes was gone, Renalto delighted in informing him. Overwhelmed by the pressure of Danny’s “aggressive” questioning, according to Lyle, she had decided to begin a new life overseas. Hiding behind attorney-client privilege, Renalto stubbornly and steadfastly refused to divulge any further information to the police.
    It was around this time that Danny McGuire had his first contacts with Interpol. Logging in to the I-24/7, Interpol’s global database designed to assist member countries’ local forces