The taxi hummed quietly at the red light. When it turned green, they whirred off. Away from the massive concrete and glass edifice of the Commissariat and toward the Marais. Vehicles surrounding them irritated Caroline differently, louder or even silent depending on their size, all of them insufferable for impeding their progress.

"Tell me how you got here, Jane, and what you know. I'm going to close my eyes, but I'm still listening." Caroline put her head back on the seat and did close her eyes. If Jane hadn't been here in the car, she probably couldn't have done that, wouldn't have felt safe enough. But she trusted her friend. And she was tired.

"Well I got a call from Meg yesterday," Jane began -

"Meg? Eleanor's friend Meg?"

"Yes. Eleanor's friend Meg. And you're just listening."

"Alright."

"She called me and filled me in on the whole circus. Or most of it. I suppose there's a lot I still don't know. Mostly told me to high-tail it to Paris and get your ass out of French jail. Said she'd help as she could."

"Help as she could? How in the world – "

"Not important. My job was getting you sprung. She and Eleanor were apparently working on whoever set you up. That's where Ruth and the SIS come in. Seems you stumbled into an active investigation on a group running an extortion racket, same way they did you, hitting mostly Brits in Paris. They've been on it since an American girl was jailed last year."

"Are we almost there yet?" Caroline rolled down the window. She shifted in the seat. Ran a finger at the collar of the black 'J'adore Paris' hoodie with the Eiffel Tower 'I' Jane had so thoughtfully provided. "Can you turn up the air please," she called to the driver, who nodded.

"You sure you're alright, Caroline?"

"I'm fine. Keep going."

"Well you're the first they've seen the woman who called herself Ginny Graham come out to do the deed herself. Either a link in the chain broke and someone did as Eleanor has and refused to play along and set up the next mark, or you're a special case."

"I don't see how." Caroline really couldn't. She felt less like a special case than she ever had in her whole life.

"We're looking into it."

"We – you – and the SIS?"

"And the DGSI, French internal intelligence. Won't even try to mangle that. This mouth's not made for languages. Anyway, my timing was good. Things were going to get very sticky for you with Vera being beat-up. You were about to become a bona-fide jailhouse badass."

"What's Meg got to do with it, again?" Caroline turned to the taxi window once more as they crossed the Seine. Thank God, they were almost to the flat. Sort of. Not near enough with this goddamn traffic. She really couldn't stand to be in this car anymore. She did smell, badly, and so did everything. And it was so hot. And bright out. Inexplicably fidgety, she turned back to Jane. "When can we start looking for Eleanor?"

"Hate to say it but the best bet is to stay at the flat and wait." Jane grimaced. Caroline wouldn't stand for that and she knew it.

"We'll see." She would have made a fuss, but she just didn't have the energy.

Caroline leaned against the rough plaster wall outside the door to the flat. She'd handed Jane her reclaimed bag, which would be promptly binned because she never wanted to see it again. The other woman was rummaging for keys they both hoped were still inside. It seemed there were a million things Caroline needed to catch up on and do and check and remember and not one of them would stay in her brain.

"Eureka."

"What," Caroline muttered.

"I found them." Jane wiggled they key in the fidgety lock and jiggled it, finally grinding it open.

"I know that. I know what you mean. Just when did you start saying that?"

"Since my new girl is an American." Jane tossed the keys on the kitchen counter and began inspecting the small space.

Caroline threw herself onto the couch. "Of course she is."

"What's that mean?" Jane stuck her head into the bathroom, the bedroom, before coming to sit next to Caroline.

"You'll date anything with tits that moves."

"You got yourself quite a mouth after only two days in jail." Jane rose again, crossed to the small kitchen and came back with two glasses of water. "Wash it out with this."

"Merci. Forget anything bad I've ever said or implied about you." Caroline gulped it down and handed it back.

Jane made a second trip. This time she stopped and opened the fridge. A wave of heady cheese that had gone old washed over Caroline. She rose and dashed to the bathroom, her throat clicking and mouth thick with saliva.

Head over the toilet she heard Jane come in behind her. The sink ran. Panting from voiding the water she'd chugged and gagging on air, she felt a cool washcloth at the back of her neck.

"Thanks," she choked out.

"That was probably for the best." Jane helped her up. She handed Caroline more water.

She took it, swished, gargled, drank some. Rinsed her hand that was beginning to scab at the knuckles under cool water.

Jane took it and patted dry. "Rough go. I'm sorry."

"Yes. I am too." Caroline caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She looked jaundiced and drawn, the skin at her neck looser. Her eyes were made dim, recessed by the dark half-moons under them. She'd hated seeing Eleanor like this.

She ran shaking fingers through her bangs. Turned, and headed back to the living room.

Jane took her elbow. "You should sleep. Finish the water, have another glass, and sleep. I won't open the fridge until you're out cold, but I'm sure you have some crackers and you should have a couple of those, too. You're cashed."

"Alright. But one more thing." Caroline went to the deplorable bag of bad memories and dug through for her cell, found it black. "Of course it's dead."

"Plug it in. It'll charge while you sleep. You know I'll do what I can. There's still more than finding Eleanor to be tied up. Go on you."

She did as she was told. She paused at the foot of the bed. Pictured Eleanor there, the two of them curled up together and blissful. Safe. Why did that feel so far away?

She stripped off the cheap tourist sweatshirt, turned to close the bedroom door. She shut it, then opened it again. After all, it was just Jane outside. Modesty was a little past where their friendship stood. Bit of a running joke, really – Jane would always wink and cluck when she saw Caroline in her bra, and Caroline would smack her. Still, she felt exposed. Caroline re-closed the door, but then began to feel agitated. That wouldn't work either. Back open.

"Jane?"

"Yes?" she appeared, her already big brown eyes wider.

Had she really sounded like her friend needed to be concerned? "Umm. This is weird. But will you stand here in the room? Don't face me or anything. Look at your phone or something. Just stand there so I can see you."

"Of course." Jane crossed her arms, stared at Caroline. She smiled and it was unsteady, and then she frowned. "You'll keep telling me how I can help you."

"Yes. I suppose. Thanks." Caroline finished changing into pajamas. She slid under the duvet and let out a happy cry. A bed had never felt so soft.

Jane started to walk off.

"Wait, please. Could you just sit on the bed for a while? With the door open?"

"No problem." Jane took a seat at the foot. She grabbed Caroline's ankles and gave them a tender shake.

The small elevator shuddered under Eleanor's low heels as it flew up the side of the Eiffel Tower. Holly took her hand and gave it a squeeze. As though she needed reassurance. Internally rolling her eyes, she reciprocated the gesture.

"It's nice to have someone around right now. It's nice to have you around in particular," she threw in. Not really. Not at all. She'd tried to lose Holly several times and grab a new prepaid phone. She'd have to risk using this one again. It would be easy enough to duck into the loo and text Meg or Jane when they got up to the Jules Verne – if she could get a signal. She'd long ago texted Caroline's phone with the only necessary information in the off chance her wife would get the message.

If nothing else she knew she'd be the one picking her company up here. The restaurant half-way up the Tower was absolutely exclusive. You couldn't even get on the elevator without checking in at the base and your name on a list. Once there, you were checked in again. And Holly was right – getting on the list was near impossible without months of notice. Or friends and money. She'd made great friends with the maître d', sommelier, and the manager when she and Caroline had come for dinner. Eleanor had been promptly wait-listed when she'd called tonight and would be assured of privacy and safety while she waited for someone she trusted to give the all clear.

In the meantime, she'd narrow the funnel for all involved. Plus, the champagne and desserts really were to die for.

"Bonsoir. Bienvenue." A lovely older gentleman greeted them. He kissed Eleanor on the cheek, and they stepped into the cozy waiting area. Through the floor to ceiling windows surrounding, at their feet stood the whole of Paris in the dusky beginnings of sunset.

"Bonsoir," Eleanor replied.

"We'll have your table shortly, Ms. Strathclyde. You may step outside to look if you want, or wait here."

"I'd love to take a look," Holly interjected.

"Yes." Eleanor pulled her wrap tighter. They followed their escort down a tight hallway until they came to a set of stairs leading out to the Verne's private balcony.

"Only ten minutes, madame," he bowed just a little, and left them.

"It'll be windy." Holly adjusted Eleanor's pashmina.

"Yes it will," Eleanor replied. The chivalry was nauseating.

It was very gusty but eerily quiet when they stepped outside. No urban racket, no shouting or music or cars or birds. No one else on the balcony, people below too far away to matter. Far above it all they had the city of lights all to themselves.

Holly stepped to the railing at the edge of the overlook and reached out to Eleanor.

She stepped forward with a charming smile and joined her. The woman's hand made her way between Eleanor's shoulder blades, and she tried to stay relaxed. There was still every possibility Holly was in on, or orchestrating, all of this. In which case Eleanor very much needed to be of sound mind and body for her to pull it off.

"This is the perfect spot." Holly edged closer. "There's no need for you to sit around worrying."

"You're absolutely right. This is just the thing." Eleanor leaned into the other woman and remembered when it had been Caroline here, and the choice they'd made together. 'It won't be much longer now,' she told her hollow heart. Who knew that Paris was such a lonely town?

The steady breeze stilled for just a moment. She leaned into the quiet. The disappearing sun flushed the horizon crimson and the world became suddenly more vibrant. The canopy greener, the skyline in bolder relief. In the distance and so almost at eye level, Sacre Coeur shattered the blue with its sparkling gold dome. Caroline was nearer. She could feel it. They'd find each other again. Simply being together would fix everything and all would be put right. Surely that would be how it would go once they'd finished with this mess.