Mystic Warrior. Alex Archer

jail visit, he’d claimed to be her lawyer and had dressed the part: Italian suit, nice loafers, a high-end watch and a leather briefcase. Instead of softening him up, the suit made him look even scarier.

      “Why can’t you get me out of here now?” Melanie thought she was going to start crying again. Getting fired from the movie was bad. Getting locked up was bad. But there was nothing like coming down cold from an addiction. She was already covered in sweat and she was freezing. She felt as if her insides were about to explode.

      “Because they haven’t charged you. Once they charge you, I can get you out.”

      “Promise?”

      “Sure, baby.”

      De Cerceau blew Melanie a kiss and she felt a little better.

      “Now tell me about this glass ball you had.”

      “I already sent you pictures of it.” Melanie didn’t know what he wanted out of the prop. She wouldn’t even have stolen the stupid thing if he hadn’t told her to. It had been his idea for her to take it after she’d gotten released from the picture. He’d even flown back in from...wherever he’d been before he got back to LA. He didn’t always tell her his business, and she liked that he could be so mysterious. Just ride into town and sweep her off her feet. He’d told her he’d seen her in Fifty Hues of Indigo and had fallen in love with her. That had been so romantic.

      “I got the pictures, baby, but I’d like to know a little more about the ball.”

      “Why?”

      He grinned at her the way he did that drove her crazy, and then he leaned close to the window. “Because I thought I’d steal it back for you, have it for you by the time you get out tomorrow, and we could make the studio pay to have it returned. That way you still get severance and a nest egg until you get a serious role.”

      Melanie hesitated even though he always knew just what to say to her. “That’s what we were going to do the first time. That didn’t work out so well.”

      “If I’d been here, things would have gone better—you know that—but I couldn’t be here until now. I came as soon as I could.” De Cerceau shrugged. “Besides, this time I’m going to take that director, too. Make the studio pay to get them both back. That way your nest egg will be even bigger.”

      A bit of hope and excitement dawned in Melanie, curbing some of the monster that was struggling to get free inside her. De Cerceau was so good at providing for her. She was lucky she’d met him and he loved her so much. “That sounds awesome.”

      “Where can I find Krauzer?”

      “He’s probably with that woman. Annja.” Melanie struggled to think, but it was hard to do while she was sitting there sweating and freezing. “She’s a consultant Krauzer brought in. But she’s tricky, too. She knocked out Barney and made it look easy.”

      De Cerceau smiled at her. “I’m not Barney.”

      “I know.” Melanie smiled at him. “I just want you to be prepared.”

      “Do you know what hotel she’s staying at?”

      Melanie shook her head, but the motion only made her head ache. “No.” She thought some more because de Cerceau looked disappointed in her. “Wait. I know where she might be. She made Krauzer promise to let her examine the scrying crystal.”

      “Why did she want to do that?”

      “I overheard her talking about the crystal to some professor at SoCal.” Melanie dug for the name. It had sounded like some kind of whale... “Orta. He’s a professor of history or something. While we were waiting for the police to get there, she talked to him and asked if they could swing by tonight.”

      “They’re going to the university?”

      “Yeah.”

      A frown crinkled de Cerceau’s eyes.

      “Is something wrong?” Melanie asked.

      The frown went away and he shook his head. “Nothing, baby. You don’t worry about anything. I have to be going, but I’ll see you in the morning. Just remember, don’t say anything to anyone until you hear from me.” He hung up the phone and blew her a kiss.

      She mimed catching the kiss and smiled at him.

      When he was gone, she felt completely empty.

      She got up and followed the guard back to her cell.

      * * *

      OUTSIDE THE JAIL, Ligier de Cerceau walked toward the waiting dark blue Mercedes-Benz sedan. The driver got out, opened the back door and allowed de Cerceau inside.

      “Thank you, Gerard.”

      “Of course, Colonel.” Stocky and well dressed, Gerard Malouel was, like his employer, former Brigade des Forces Spéciales Terre.

      As such, they’d served in the French army’s special forces unit. Both had undertaken missions in Operation Heracles in Afghanistan. That was where de Cerceau had discovered how much money could be made finding and selling relics. He and the core of his team—then and now, after they’d gone into business for themselves—had stumbled across a group of relic hunters, killed them and found out what the items they were smuggling out of the country were worth.

      That discovery had been life changing. These days de Cerceau still did mercenary work, but he made a lot of money dealing in artifacts, as well. He didn’t care anything for antiquities, but he liked the money collectors of those things would pay for pieces they coveted.

      Gerard slid behind the steering wheel. “Where to, Colonel?”

      “The University of Southern California.”

      Gerard pressed buttons on the GPS as he pulled out of the parking area and onto North Los Angeles Street. “Did everything go well with the woman?”

      “She’s going to keep her mouth shut for a while, but she’s suffering from drug withdrawal.”

      Gerard considered that for a moment. Then he shifted in his seat. “That doesn’t make her sound very trustworthy.”

      “She’s not.” De Cerceau checked his email on his phone and discovered a new text from SEEKER4318. He didn’t know who was behind the name, but the man paid well and on time. He was new to de Cerceau, but he’d been vouched for by a past buyer.

      SEEKER4318: Retrieve the object and I will happily pay you the amount we discussed.

      De Cerceau responded, I will have it in my hands soon.

      “Do you know anyone who can arrange something for Melanie?” de Cerceau asked.

      “The women’s section of the jail can be a little harder to set up than the men’s, but I’m sure I can find someone. There are plenty of violent women in jail, and some of them are more cold-blooded than their male counterparts.”

      De Cerceau agreed. In his business, he’d dealt with many dangerous women. “Get it done as soon as you can. I don’t want her talking to anyone and complicating this.”

      Gerard nodded and pulled out his smartphone.

      De Cerceau occupied himself with organizing a team for the USC part of the operation. He also wondered who Seeker was. The man had responded immediately when Melanie had posted pictures of the scrying crystal on the internet.

      Glancing outside the tinted window, de Cerceau watched downtown LA speed by him, waiting for the call to be picked up at the other end.

      * * *

      WITH THE HARD-DRIVING sound of the Sex Pistols reverberating off the walls in the next room, SEEKER4318 stared at the young woman lying bound and gagged on the motel bed. Excitement thrilled through him as it always did when he had a woman helpless before him.

      This one was in her mid-to late twenties and was trim and athletic,