Mouth of the Rat (A Samantha Jamison Mystery) (15 page)

“I know we’re at a safe distance, but I’m still concerned. I’ve never seen so much smoke over there before.”

He slowly scanned the Esterels that were swirling with smoke, then passed the binoculars to me, frowning.

“Take a closer look at those mountains.”

I saw flaring patches of bright orange. “It’s on fire!”

My son pointed. “Look! The water planes are there.”

“That should handle it,” said my husband, relaxing.

The scent of smoke was drifting everywhere now.

“For the moment,” I countered. “But what about these winds? Maybe we should call Martine and Jean.”

We didn’t have to. They were already out on their patio below with their own binoculars. Martine called up to us.

“You have seen the fires, yes?” she asked.

We leaned on our terrace railing looking down at them next door. Their golden Labrador woofed at the sight of our Miniature Schnauzer perched at the bottom of our railing, who in turn, barked to her French canine friend, Sonia.

“Yes,” said my husband. “What do you think?”

“Maybe they will get it under control. We will see.”

“What is the news by word of mouth?” I asked.

“They think it is from campers and their fires. It is spreading rapidly because it is the dry season. The Mistral is making it worse. We will let you know as soon as we hear anything more, okay?”

“Of course!” said my husband. “Please keep us posted.”

We pushed off from the railing and took one last look at the burning mountains before turning to go inside. I would work from there. At least with our air conditioner turned on, the air would be somewhat filtered for the time being.

I returned to my laptop, but repeatedly kept walking back to the glass sliders to look out at the distant, curved coast, St. Raphaël’s beaches, and the Esterels stretched out in the distance. The planes were working nonstop, still at it.

As much as I tried, I couldn’t concentrate with such a threat looming out there. As far as I was concerned, it was too close for comfort. The coastal towns were overflowing with tourists. Plus, it was high season: late summer. It felt like all of Europe was on the Riviera, and with the crowd-filled markets, packed campgrounds, the narrow roads a constant gridlock of traffic… You get the picture.

What would we do if the fires got closer?

Chapter 5

Time Was Ticking…

We scanned the TV for bulletins, checked the terrace, and touched base off and on with Martine and Jean a dozen times. I kept a close watch on the fires as they crept closer and closer. From the sight of leaves and debris that were now wildly swirling about in spirals and accumulating in mounds throughout our courtyards, it was obvious the Mistral had increased in strength.

Then something baffling diverted my attention. A gauzy haze, an amber hue, shrouded everything. No sooner had that visually registered when, one by one, dark shadows began blocking out the sun’s rays overhead.

How could that be? It rarely rained this time of year.

I ran to the upper terrace and leaned against the railing, facing myself away from the sea to look over our roofline toward the sun and upper forested area behind our house. Dark clouds, black plums of smoke, were billowing behind
our
mountains.

How did it get behind us so quickly?

My first thought was to protect my family and property. The large fabric awning over our arched glass foyer door would most likely burn. I had to crank it closed. The debris outside had to be swept, the gardens…

Luckily the exterior of our villa was all stone with a clay-barreled roof. The patio was stone on the ground level, and on the second floor, the bedroom level, the terrace that faced the Mediterranean Sea had clay tiles. Even the garage roof had a stone-covered patio.

As I watched those dark, rising clouds bolstered by winds drift high over our house
,
it finally hit why no one could get the fires under control. This threat was different.

The tipping point? An unexpected heat wave sweeping across Europe. People were dying of heatstroke and fleeing the scorching cities. Now add the hoards of people already on the Riviera coast in late summer. With the mix of the gusty Mistral, unusually overwhelming heat, large crowds, and spreading fires, they all shared one deadly common denominator: a greater potential for chaos and panic.

And perfect for one or more arsonists to spread it.

Everyone escaped to the sea, regardless of their income. Every overheard conversation included complaints about the unbearable, searing heatwave. Roads were congested night and day. A several minute drive to St. Maxime to eat was one to two hours. So we dined locally for a few weeks.

I’d never felt such intense heat. I’m used to Florida’s heat, but usually tropical breezes accompanied it. My fair skin burned easily anyway, and this bone-dry intense heat sucked the energy right out of me.

The bad news? The A8, a super highway, was on the other side of those burning mountains behind us. We could end up being trapped between the flames and sea…

With no escape route to drive out of there, then what?

~~~~

Other Books by Peggy A. Edelheit

The Samantha Jamison Mystery Series

The Puzzle Volume 1

Without Any Warning Volume 2

86 Avenue du Goulet Volume 3

A Lethal Time Volume 4

Death Knell In The Alps Volume 6

A Samantha Jamison Detour

The Riviera is Burning Volume 5.5

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