Authors: Patricia Sands
Standing at an ornately carved bar tucked in one corner, David filled champagne flutes that Katherine recognized as the distinctive Biot glassware she was collecting. He set them on a tray beside bite-size toasts topped with
foie gras
, and added a small bowl of Niçoise olives.
“How does this sound?” he asked in a voice that still betrayed his Boston roots. “We’ll go skating first and then come back for dinner.”
“Speaking of dinner,” Kat said, “where on earth do you cook here?”
Véronique was clear in her response. “I don’t.”
David laughed and nodded. “She’s not allowed to cook! It’s a family rule . . . although she certainly pitched in when the children were young, make no mistake! But really, it’s my domain. Look.”
He led them to a panel on the far side of the room, that turned out to be a pocket door. He opened the door to reveal the smallest yet best-equipped galley kitchen imaginable.
“I just keep the panel open when we’re here alone and . . .
voilà
. . . as good a kitchen as anywhere. When we have company, it simply disappears.”
Kat gasped in amazement at the versatility of design used in transforming the centuries-old spaces. “There are always surprises!” She hoped the day would come soon when she and Philippe would have their chance and refused to believe the dream would die.
They chatted easily for a while before heading out. Philippe gently squeezed Kat’s hand when he noticed her looking around nervously.
“I’m sure everything is fine now,
chérie
. We are in good hands.”
Kat found it hard to quell her anxiety as they walked to Place Massena. But they were soon lacing up skates under the twinkling fairy lights strung around the ice rink, and her mood lightened. The squeals of delight from skaters and spectators of all ages filled the air.
Kat and Philippe rented their skates, while Véronique and David had their own.
“Skating is something we have done as a family since David first taught me in America,” Véronique explained. “He still plays hockey once a week with ‘the guys’ in an expat league where you have to be over sixty years old.”
“We started playing together when we were all in our thirties,” David said. “We’ve lost a few along the way, but most have hung in. It’s an addictive sport.”
“When they began playing hockey, they called themselves the Yankee Clippers—”
David interrupted, with a loud chuckle, “And now we are the Yankee Old Farts.”
Philippe looked puzzled, and Véronique told David he would have to do the explaining, which he did, accompanied by much laughter from the others.
“I have a confession,” Philippe told them. “I have never been on skates before.”
Kat was surprised “You didn’t say ‘never’ before.”
Flashing her a grin, he confidently stepped onto the ice. He had barely finished saying “
On y va!
” when his feet slipped in different directions and, arms flailing, he fell on his butt.
Kat burst into laughter. Unable to stop, she barely made it to the railing around the rink and came perilously close to falling herself. After David helped him up, Philippe steadied himself beside her.
“I’m sorry,” she gulped between snorts. “Are you okay? I should have warned you . . . and I shouldn’t be laughing . . . but . . .”
Philippe was laughing too.
Brushing off his jeans, he said. “I thought I could just step out on the ice and glide off.
Mon Dieu!
My feet were completely out of control.”
David gave him a few tips about how to stay vertical, then the two women each took one of his arms, and they slowly began again.
The threesome came close to collapsing in a heap a few times as Philippe’s slipping and sliding threw them all off balance, but gradually he began to get the feel of it.
They skated for an hour in the festive ambiance of the area. The large Ferris wheel glowed like an enormous Christmas decoration, and the lineup to ride on it was steadily lengthened by people who had finished sauntering through the market area. The now familiar aromas of mulled wine and roasting chestnuts filled the air. The air was crisp, but the temperature was above freezing and skating kept them warm.
Kat and Philippe soon were able to skate together, with just the odd wobble. David and Véronique glided around arm in arm, their affection obvious as they paused from time to time under a mistletoe bunch.
The two couples stopped at an espresso bar before strolling back to the apartment for an appetizing
coq au vin
, which Véronique wholly credited to her husband.
Over dinner, David entertained them with tales of Véronique’s early days in the States, when they were first dating, and then followed up with stories about his transition to living in France.
“Katherine, you need to know that starting over in a new country with a foreign language to master isn’t always going to be easy. No matter how much in love you are with Philippe and France, be prepared for some challenges—and always, I repeat, always maintain your sense of humor.”
“I had the same issues to deal with during the years I spent in America,” Véronique said. “That’s the price we pay for these amorous adventures—but look at the rewards.”
On that note David and Philippe high-fived, and they all decided it was time to call it a night.
The pleasure of the evening began to fade even as Kat and Philippe strolled the few blocks to the hotel. The distraction had been welcome, but now their thoughts turned back to the menace they were facing, and their mood became somber as they speculated about what might be happening.
“Let’s hope it all ends soon,” Kat said. Philippe was grimly silent.
20
At seven o’clock the next morning, Philippe’s cell phone rang. It was Inspecteur Thibideau. From Kat’s perspective, the call consisted of Philippe nodding his head and saying only a few words.
When he hung up, he said, “
Ça marche
—there’s been some progress. Arresting the guy you refer to as ‘the slimeball’ paid off. He’s a little minnow in a large pond, and to save his own skin he confirmed what the police already suspected. As you say, he sang like
un oiseau
—a bird,
oui?
They could not have asked for better luck. Now they can proceed with the plan they have been working on for a while.”
“I can’t believe it,” Kat said. “I just can’t believe we are involved in this. But what would they charge him with when he was just following me?”
“Apparently they discovered he had drugs on his person. I have an idea the police had something to do with putting them there, but that’s just a guess.”
Kat shook her head. “Unbelievable.”
“Curiously,” Philippe said, “someone on the Cap is helping them with the surveillance of the cove. That would mean someone is on or near our property. Imagine! Thibideau wants to see us to talk about it, and a driver is waiting outside now. I’m sorry.”
He had been pacing the room as he spoke but now sat beside her on the bed and took her hand. “You will have to identify Monsieur Slimy in a
parade d’identificaton
. Is that upsetting?”
Kat flopped back on the pillows. “You mean a lineup? Unbelievable!
Incroyable!
”
Philippe pulled her up and hugged her tightly. “We will have our lives back before too long.”
Kat left his arms and moved over to the window, threw open the shutters, and hollered to the world, “We will have our lives back again! Philippe promised!”
Turning to Philippe, she said, “I needed to do that just to believe what you said is true. I can’t help feeling we’re in a movie.”
Philippe nodded. “It’s only been six weeks since they left the note, but it seems like forever. What we didn’t know is that this investigation has been going on for years. They just couldn’t get a fix on Dimitri after he and Idelle left their home in the north, until we got in on the act. It’s going to be interesting to hear what the
inspecteur
has to tell us.”
“I keep wondering how this kind of drama—and danger—can happen to people who have what we think of as normal lives. But I know it does, only too well. Molly’s brother was involved with drugs and a lot of very sketchy characters for years.”
Philippe nodded. “You told me all about that and Molly’s futile commitment to helping him.”
“And do you remember me mentioning Lucy, a friend in Toronto from my former job?”
Philippe nodded again.
“One time she was off work for a few days. When she returned, she told us that one of her cousins had been involved in a drug gang—there are a few of them in Toronto—and ended up being shot to death. Her entire family was under investigation for weeks and it was, for her, simply surreal. He had seemed to be a quiet university student. No one knew he was a major player in the gang.”
“It happens these days.”
Kat took his hand and kissed his palm. “I know this is much more intense for you, because you have to protect Adorée. I’m so sorry it ever happened.”
“I am the one to apologize,” he said. “I’m sorry that you are involved in this. You’ve seen me at my worst at times because of it.” His sad expression and emotion-charged words brought Kat to the brink of tears.
“Then that’s a good thing,” she assured him, hoping to lighten the air. “If this is your worst, I’m certain I can deal with it. I could say the same about me. I definitely am having awful moments from time to time.”
Philippe swallowed hard and shook his head at her words. His look conveyed all he wanted her to know.
They sat silently for a few moments until Philippe remembered that a car and driver was waiting for them. They quickly showered and dressed.
Walking straight through the lobby and out to the sidewalk as instructed, Katherine squeezed Philippe’s hand and murmured, “Just keep me close.”
He squeezed back.
A black SUV was waiting, its motor running, and a solidly built middle-aged man in an equally black suit held open the back door for them. He spoke rapid French as they climbed in and Philippe translated.
“He apologized, but the windows are blacked out so we will not be able to see where we are going.”
Kat nodded, her eyes wide.
The vehicle stopped in an underground garage, and they were immediately ushered into an elevator and then to an office, where Inspecteur Thibideau rose to greet them. Kat was aware of a distinctive smell of strong tobacco in his presence. His manner was professional and to the point. After thanking them for their assistance with this “criminal issue,” he explained to Katherine that they hoped she could help by identifying the suspect in a
parade d’identification
.
He called for an officer to escort her to the room from where she would view a number of men from behind a mirrored window. Trying hard to appear calm and collected, she waved to Philippe and left the room. She was certain she would have no problem identifying the man who had scared her so badly.
She followed the officer through a labyrinth of hallways and glass doors that silently opened and closed as they made their way. They stopped in a small room with no chairs and a two-way mirror.
“Madame Price, you will see six men walk onto the low platform, where they will turn to face this way. Please take your time and do not respond until you are completely certain which man you wish to identify. This is most important.”
A few minutes later, Kat’s stomach tensed with nerves as the six men mounted the platform and stood in profile. All of them were around the same height and weight, but two of them were bald and one had very curly hair. Three of them clearly had not shaved, and one had a full beard.
Kat looked intently at their stature and at their clothes, which ranged from dirty jeans and T-shirts to a tailored suit. She was surprised that she could not immediately tell who had been following her. Then the officer spoke into an intercom, and the six men, numbers hanging around their necks, turned to face her.
She recognized him now: standing second from the right and wearing the same scowl he had both times he had come into her life. The toupée and nose were unmistakable, even though his clothes were completely different.
The officer escorted her back through the maze of corridors to Philippe and Inspecteur Thibideau, her job done.
Thibideau thanked her for her help and said, “We will continue to have our undercover operatives watch you both at all times until this matter is resolved. But I cannot divulge any information regarding dates or time. We need to maintain the utmost secrecy. I will just say that it is necessary for us to move very quickly. Of course, you will not visit your property on the Cap until after we speak again. I cannot stress enough how important it is that you stay away. In all other ways, please carry on as usual.”
Their curiosity was piqued once again when he added, “A most reliable operative is helping us in a very sensitive way that will ensure we succeed, and soon.”
With that, he rose, shook their hands, and buzzed for yet another officer to accompany them to the exit.
They arrived back at their apartment midmorning, and after changing his clothes, Philippe went straight to work. Kat decided she needed a quiet day at home. After all the worry of the preceding weeks, a long soak in a bubble-filled tub was in order.
It was unusual for her to spend an entire day at home. She had established a rhythm of sorts to her life, one that was dictated by choice rather than deadlines imposed by a job. It felt lovely to luxuriate in the bath, but as soon as she dried herself and dressed, she felt a surge of anxiety as the events of the past twenty-four hours replayed in her mind. All this stress and worry was so unlike her normal state. Her usual it-will-all-work-out attitude had been pushed to the limit, and not being able to talk about it with Molly and Andrea had removed the safety valve for her fears.
She settled into the window seat and opened her iPad to a novel by one of her favorite authors. As much as she tried to lose herself in the story of a teenage boy who steals a painting, her mind kept wandering. She was glad of the interruption when the cell phone vibrated on the table.
“Bonjour, chérie!”
“
Bonjour
, Simone! How lovely to hear from you. How are you?”
“I’m calling to ask if you might drop by today. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I’m flattered, Simone. Truly.”
“I would like to treat you to lunch.
À treize heures?
”
“Thank you! I’ll see you at one o’clock. May I bring something with me?”
“
Rien du tout, merci.
I have all I need. Do you like
escargots
, snails?”
“If you had asked me five months ago, I would have said no. But now I am a fan.”
On her way to Simone’s, Katherine stopped by the market to tell Philippe about the invitation.
“So thank you for those delicious meals of fresh escargots you’ve treated me to these past few months.”
“
Zut!
That was another little gastronomic hurdle you had to cross. I remember the look on your face the first time I put them on the table.”
Kat nodded. “I was sure I would hate the taste and the consistency, and I was so wrong. I wonder how she will prepare them.”
He looked at her intently then led her to a quiet spot, leaving Gilles to handle the lineup of customers. “Are you okay? You seem to be trying very hard to be relaxed and chatty.”
Kat blinked and nodded. “You’re right. I’m working on it, but I’m okay, honest, and I always feel good when I visit Simone. She’s so calming. I’ll be just fine by the time you see me later today.”
Philippe put his arms around her. “Yes, you will. I know that. You are the calm in my life, Minou, and I thank you for that.”
He returned to serving customers and Kat left, reassured that she was loved and appreciated by the man she trusted with her heart. She could almost hear Andrea saying, “Remember, Kat, whatever the problem, it will all work out.”
Katherine walked up the driveway to Simone’s house carrying a bunch of carrots in one hand and a bright winter bouquet in the other. Near the house, she noticed a thin leather case, barely larger than a business card, lying by the edge of the driveway, and picked it up. Inside was an embossed crest and a card identifying Detective Guillaume Beaufort.
Kat slipped it into her pocket and was debating whether to mention it to Simone, when she opened the door. She was leaning on her cane and smiling broadly in welcome.
“
Bonjour
, Simone!
Ça va?
”
“
Oui, oui, chérie!
No wheels today!”
Katherine held out the flowers, which Simone graciously accepted, then she held up the carrots. “I’m just going to slip around the back for a minute. I haven’t seen Eeyore, ah, Victor, in over a week.”
“Come through here. It’s easier to go out the back door to the yard than it is to go around. Everything is so overgrown at the side of the house.”