86 Avenue du Goulet (A Samantha Jamison Mystery Volume 3) (17 page)

Chapter 76

Jumping To More Than Conclusions

Making like I’d just hung up the phone, I called out. “Clay said he’s on his way over. He’ll be here in a minute. How did the beach go?” I said it all rather loudly, and then I heard a dragging sound, then quiet.

I silently made my way out of the living room and entered the foyer.

My eyes darted to the kitchen door, and I came up short. The heavy sliding glass door was now closed, but it was open when the three of them had left. I opened it and looked outside. No one was there. Then I panicked when I remembered my purse!

I ran back through the foyer and up the marble staircase, aiming straight for my bedroom and nightstand where I always kept it. It was still there. I grabbed it and tore into it; wallet, keys, and my passport were still there. When I reached the bottom of my purse, something rattled. So I dumped the rest of its contents onto my bed.

I jumped back. Two small bones tumbled out last.

“What the…” After I recovered, I put it all back.

I ran to the terrace and looked around the gardens, nothing, not even Luc. It was his day off. Someone knew his schedule and entered the villa while I was sleeping. But what was the point of dumping bones in my purse?

Luc had warned me that robbers liked to strike while you were inside the house, but instead of taking something, they had left
what? A message?
My thoughts were spewing all kinds of images, all bad. Did they walk over to where I was sleeping in the living room? Did they stare down at me while I lay asleep?
Scary.

They are very good at what they do and very bold, even in the daylight.

That’s what Luc had said. I hadn’t paid attention. Now I was scared. Seriously. What was going on? I’d been chased down an alley, locked in a closet, and…

My breath caught. Someone was downstairs. I aimed for my weapon of choice, a recently purchased metal baseball bat. It was in the armoire. I tiptoed over, opened the door and quietly reached for it. I was now ready for serious business. I hoped Curat’s furniture and statues were, too.

I swung around when I heard someone in the upstairs hall approaching my room. I slipped behind the door, my arms back, ready to strike. Whoever it was hesitated at the door. I was making my swing just as Clay came into view.

“Samantha?”

I pulled back just in time before I hit a home run.

He heard the movement and turned. “Whoa!”

I had stopped inches from his head, but not before he threw up his arms in self-defense.

“Clay?”

“Sam?”

I let out my breath in relief, having almost obliterated the one annoying thing in my life that I grown attached to.

“You scared me to death, Clay.”

“Ditto! What’s with the bat? Didn’t you hear me call out your name? The door downstairs was wide open and the house empty.”

“You must have called me when I was on the balcony.”

“A hint, Sam? Batting practice is usually done outside.”

Chapter 77

Bedding The Truth

Clay carefully removed the bat from my hands and set it aside, invading my personal space and gently backing me up against the wall. He looked around the room, smiling.

“I think I like this room the best. How about you?”

I eyed the bed, now smiling, too. “I guess the king size bed is what finally sealed the deal on renting this place.”

“Want to test it out?” he asked, starting to nibble on my left earlobe, my neck, and then finishing with a killer kiss.

I fought it for all of about thirty seconds,
okay…five.

A half an hour later we sat out on the terrace sipping wine, any incriminating evidence erased from the scene. I didn’t want to go through the embarrassment and a litany of explanations with the ladies if they should come back from the beach. I knew they were well aware we had an intimate relationship, but to throw it in their face? That just wasn’t my style with those two proper ladies, Betty and Hazel.

Now Martha was another story.

As we sat out there, I felt sure Clay wanted to talk. I knew he’d ask, and he did. “Why’d you really leave, Sam?”

“Oh, let’s see; a death, shock, adjustments, minor stuff.”

“Okay, I get it, space to figure where
your
life fits in.”

“Yeah, that about sums up how I’ve felt, then and now.”

“What was going on a little while ago? Why the bat?”

“Intruder,” I said, and proceeded to bring him up to date.

“You need to be more careful and lock your doors.”

“Yeah, but it’s been too hot.”

“When that happens, call me. I’ll cool you off.”

I laughed a comfortable laugh, you know, the kind you have when you’re with someone you have an intimate relationship with. “What do you think is going on?”

“I’m not sure. It seems like someone is pushing back.”

“So far no physical harm has taken place,” I said.

“That’s for now, but what’s next?” he asked.

“I don’t know. What do you think is going on?”

“I’m not sure.”

“What do you suggest I do now?”

He turned back toward the bed, smiling.

“Uh-uh,” I said. “That was a momentary relapse.”

“As you already know, I’m real good about quickies.”

I laughed. “Besides the ladies should be back shortly.”

“Hey, A guy can at least try, can’t he?”

“Seriously, Clay, what is your take on this?”

“If it were me, I’d want to find this cat lady.”

“Me, too, but it’s probably a long shot and a dead end.”

He smiled. “Has that ever stopped you before?”

I returned his smile. “Yeah, maybe I’ll get lucky.”

“You did today, so keep the streak going.”

I laughed, trying to swat him. “Why, you pompous…”

“Please, don’t embarrass me with your lavish praise.”

“I was thinking more on the lines of a conceited…”

He leaned over to kiss me. “Shut up and enjoy it.”

So I did, and then stood up, grabbed his hand, and led him back to mess up that perfectly made bed.

Like I’ve always said, it all comes down to timing.

Chapter 78

Kitty, Kitty Bang, Bang

It was driving me nuts. For two nights running, I sat on my terrace, coming up empty-handed, but always finding the usual missing food plate in the morning. No matter how I tried peering out at different hours, I always seemed to miss her feeding those stray cats and fell asleep.

However, I got lucky when I decided to actually sit out
in
the garden itself until she finally showed up.

After swatting and scratching my skin raw,
so much for repellent
, I heard a car approach. I silently waited behind an evergreen until I knew she was on the other side of the gate and heard the dish being shoved under the iron gate.

I leaped out of my hiding spot and called out to her. In a crouched position, she froze on the spot. As I’d been told, she was covered from head to toe with a scarf and baggy clothes. I could barely make out her features in the dusky light of early evening.

Her age? It was hard to tell in that dim light. I couldn’t see her eyes because of her sunglasses. Why would she wear sunglasses at night? It was the same for her color of her hair, which was camouflaged by her scarf. What was she hiding? I figured if I got any closer, she’d take off. So I spoke quickly.

“Parlez-vous Anglais?” ‘
Do you speak English?
’

She didn’t move. “…A little,” she finally whispered.

“I am renting this maison, and my friend, Martine, who lives next door, asked me to find out some information regarding Curat’s property.”

She silently stared at me, hesitating, took a glance back at her awaiting car, then turned back to me and finally nodded. “What do you want to know?”

“I need to ask you questions regarding this garden.”

She nodded. “You mean this green patch of death.”

A shiver hit me. “Yes, it does have that history.”

“What do you want?” she asked.

“You know about the burials?”

“Yes, I know.”

“Hear anything?”

“...Nothing.”

“See anything?”

“…Maybe, yes.”

“Please tell me.”

She looked all around, nervous, and then back at me again. “There is much tragedy here, human as well.”

“I need your help. Martine is afraid because of Sonia.”

“Ah, yes. Beautiful Sonia. A pity, these deaths.”

I needed her to stay on target. “What did you see?”

“The vans, they come and go…” She stopped cold.

Something had zipped by us, twice!
Bullets?
Like someone had shot a silencer. I don’t think I would have ever recognized that sound, except Martha and the ladies made me take target practice with them at the firing range. Like I’d really need to see another gun after Ocean City! I looked behind me, my eyes searching the shadows, and then I turned back to her, startled.

But I was staring at nobody. Just like that, in a cloud of car fumes, she was gone!

Damn!

Chapter 79

Up The Hill, To Grand-mère’s House I Go

I still hadn’t tackled last night’s incident, but couldn’t miss this last minute opportunity. It was too important. Dominique had tenuously paved the way for a brief visit with Madame Sorrell. I was told to go to her house early the next morning, before she left for Paris.

I was shot at and was worried sick. But I was so excited that finally something exciting was happening and I’ll be able to make up a story to meet my deadline. Were those bullets meant for the cat woman, me, or the both of us? The cat woman must know something important and someone was obviously willing to kill to keep her quiet.

There was so much at stake with Philippe being shot, the alley, target practice at the cat woman, and now me.

Trying to put aside my anxiety about what had happened the night before, I arrived on time, promptly at eight.

Would she explain the reasons for her evasion and misdirection? I was not sure, but I wanted to try and find the reasons behind her deceptive behavior.

What would be even more helpful was how did all the people become entangled in the first place? It was obvious they were all involved through the pets and a timeline, some directly, and perhaps, others indirectly.

I knocked and waited, looking all around and down below. It was amazing what a clear view Madame Sorrell had of Curat’s property, a somewhat partial view of Dominique’s and a fine view of Toussout’s. I looked further to the left toward Martine and Jean’s property. Most of their backyard and outdoor detached kitchen were obscured by the apricot groves that filled the back portion of their property, but I still had a clear view of their attached patio and the back of their house.

Things were probably going according to their plan until the discovery of the animal burials started unraveling the past. Not only were the bones dug up, but apparently old secrets, jealousies and rumors, as well. It was clear Sorrell had watched me go from house to house gathering info.

First I was dished indifference and abruptness. Then I’m greeted like a friend of the family. Why the inconsistency? I had no idea how I would be greeted today, but would take whatever information I could get.

When the door opened, her worn and tired demeanor startled me. Dark circles rimmed her eyes. “Come in.”

After I sat by the window overlooking the houses and sea, she surprised me with her opening salvo. “I guess you deserve some type of explanation, but previously I could not decide to what extent and how much. After all, you are not one of us and might not understand many of the reasons behind the actions that were taken, but time is running out.”

“Why are you so sure I wouldn’t understand?”

“Because I doubt if you ever killed anyone.”

Nope! She had me there.

Chapter 80

Until Death Do Us Part

No, I couldn’t top that one. I couldn’t wait for what was coming. “No, I sure haven’t.”

“I thought not. You are not the type to kill, maybe in your books, but not in the real world.”

“I guess that’s true.”

She leaned back in her chair with a heavy sigh. “I like you, Samantha. From what I have heard, you have a good American sense of humor and a very persistent nature, but I must warn you. That could prove dangerous.”

“Why is that?”

“Perhaps you have too much information.”

I was impatient.
Was there a cover-up?
“Like what?”

“First, I need to explain something about myself. I had an image I needed to maintain because my husband, Henri, being in politics, was so particular. But now that he is dead, I no longer have to …how do you say, live with his baggage. I have my own life, now. No more pretenses. I am free to say and do what I want,
when
I want.”

Good. No more pretenses.
“Then why the smokescreen? Why did you make all that up about Dominique?”

“I did not know you or trust you then, but Dominique convinced me you can be trusted. I was merely protecting my husband’s reputation.” She laughed bitterly. “It was a bad one at that, too. I must admit he was fun to have around and quite amusing at times over the years until his true nature was revealed.”

Found out what?
“Your secret?” I pressed, pushing her.

She laughed again. “Ah, you’re attitude is enviable, Samantha. You are quite straightforward, very American, not like we French.”

“I didn’t have many choices.”

“But they were good choices; strong female friends, your writing, and this handsome American, Clay.”

My face turned scarlet.
How did she know about him?

She laughed. “There is talk, plus I am a romance novelist, remember? I observe more than you realize.”

I looked over to her binoculars and smiled.
I bet.

“Like you said in your book, Samantha, I now have skin in this game.” She laughed at my reaction. “Yes, I admit I have read your books, too.”

“But what about the burials? What was the point?”

“I think they are merely a sick physical metaphor for buried secrets. Maybe someone is making sure I stay silent about what is and has been going on around here.”

I had to ask. “How could they keep you silent?”

“Someone knows that Henri killed Simone.”

“…What?”
Why protect a man who was dead?

Like Martha always said, her next words took the cake.

“Yes, and then I killed Henri.”