There's Something About St. Tropez (51 page)

Mac wondered what Jasper Lord's next move would be.

 

73.

 

 

Meanwhile, at the table in the dining room, no one spoke. Billy relaxed his grip on the children's shoulders. Nate and Sara still stood behind Belinda staring at the exit, as though expecting the husband to return.

Tesoro, in Laureen's arms, yapped pitifully, and Pirate hopped round, checking everybody was still there and all right. Mac and Lev had followed Jasper Lord and his thugs outside. Sunny looked apprehensively after them. Belinda breathed again.

“Sorry,” Belinda said, unable to disguise the bitter edge to her shaky voice. “I warned you he was a bully, he's used to getting what he wants.”

Sara sank into a chair. “All I signed up for was a little cruise,” she wailed. Then seeing Belinda's pale face and trembling hands, she hugged her. “I wouldn't have let him touch you,” she said fiercely. “Never.
Never
, you hear that, Belinda? That man will never hurt you, not while I'm here.”

Belinda managed a smile. “Then maybe you'd better stay,” she said, and Sara suddenly realized she hadn't even had time to think about Nate's idea that she work for Malcolm and Roger at the Moulin de Hubert.

Laureen stroked the Chihuahua nervously. “Daddy, why was that man so nasty to Belinda?”

“He's just not a good guy, baby, that's all. Nothing to worry about now. Mac has taken care of him.”

“Then who will take care of Belinda?”

Billy thought that was a very good question. “We'll have to see about that, sweetheart,” he said. He spotted Mac and Lev coming back and said, “Tell you what, why don't you both go to Bertrand's table and have some ice
cream? I've heard they do an extra-special banana split, your own choice of flavors. And then how about a poker game?”

He took the playing cards from his pocket and gave them to Bertrand, who stood, silent and scared. He'd sensed violence in the air and did not understand what was going on.

Relieved, Bertrand took the cards. He said, “Come on, Laureen, I'll order the banana split. Which ice cream would you like?”

“Strawberry.” She padded after him, still holding Tesoro, who had become a fixture in her arms. “Strawberry matches my dress,” they heard her add.

“Jesus.” Billy plumped onto the chair next to Belinda. “For a minute there I expected trouble.”

Mac was back. “Too many people around for real trouble,” he said. “Guys like Jasper Lord prefer to have no witnesses.” He saw Belinda's still-shocked face and said, “I'm sorry, honey. I wish this hadn't happened, but now I know we have to get you out of here.”

“But where?” She gulped back a threatening sob.

“There's my ranch in Texas for a start,” Billy said. “It's surely a long way from Jasper Lord.”

Belinda shook her head. “You can't do that. I mean, you can't just go home and take Little Laureen away from here. Don't you see how she's blossoming? No, you must stay.” She shrugged. “I'll think of something.”

“Well, I know it's not as far as Texas,” Nate said, “but there's always my house in Bonnieux. I don't have full title yet, but I guess if I paid a bit more they would let me ‘rent' it for a few weeks, until it's finally mine. It's a bit off the beaten track, stuck on a hilltop, nobody would know you, or even know you're there.”

“I'd come with you,” Sara said immediately.

Surprised, Belinda looked at her. “You mean you'd cancel your flight? You'll lose your money if you do. And maybe your job.”

Fuck the plane fare, Sara thought. And fuck the job at the medical center. She was sticking with Belinda. For now, anyway. And
Oh My God
, she had just used the F-word—twice—in her own thoughts.

“I'm looking after you,” she said stubbornly, and Belinda threw her a grateful smile.

“So that's set,” Mac said. He had already spoken to his Interpol contact, Alain Hassain. Jasper Lord was persona non grata in France. Which didn't mean he wouldn't show up again, but at least they had breathing space.

He said, “Lev followed the police cars to make sure the husband left,
‘back to San Remo,' the cops told me. And tomorrow I'll have Lev drive the two of you to Bonnieux early, so make sure to get your packing done tonight.” He met Sunny's eyes, realized he was dealing with women and added with a wry smile, “Or at least before Lev shows up at dawn.”

Nate had already gotten on the phone with Malcolm, giving him an edited version of the situation, and Malcolm told him he'd arrange it with the seller.

“Okay,” Mac said. “Now I think what we all need is champagne.”

“I'll vote for that,” Sunny agreed.

“Me too,” Belinda said, her old smile back on her pretty face.

Sunny thought it was amazing how pale someone could look beneath a tan.

Billy kept an eye on the children, busy with long spoons, digging through layers of banana split. Even from here he could see Laureen's pink satin chest was liberally dotted with blobs of chocolate. It didn't matter, the two of them were talking animatedly. He hoped they had put the ugly scene out of their minds.

“I'll miss you,” he said to Belinda.

She looked at him, a clear, serious, contemplative look. “And you know what, Billy Bashford? I am going to miss you. You are truly a nice man, y'know that?”

Billy tugged at his Stetson and she laughed, reaching up and sweeping it off his head. “You don't have to hide your light beneath that bushel of a hat.” She leaned to him and whispered, “You're too good-looking for that.”

Billy grinned. “Then we're a matched pair,” he said.

She patted his knee. “You're right, Texas.”

 

Much later that night, when everybody had gone to bed, Bertrand slipped outside to the parking lot. The guard was no longer there but the yellow dog saw him and lumbered to its feet, long tail wagging like a flag. Tugging it on its string, Bertrand sneaked it up the back stairs and into his room.

The dog slept on his bed that night, curled up in a heavy lump at the bottom where Bertrand could feel it with his toes. They both slept dreamlessly till dawn.

Belinda, however, did not sleep. She sat alone on her terrace, listening to the soft slap of the waves, waiting for that new dawn. The husband had found her and despite her running away, she had no doubt he would find her again.

 

74.

 

 

The next morning, Sunny and Mac were up early to say goodbye. Lev pushed Belinda's Vuittons into the trunk of the Bentley, then squashed Sara's small carry-on, along with a flurry of shopping bags, onto the backseat next to her.

“I'm going to miss this place,” Belinda said, already belted into the front passenger seat.

“You'll be back when it's all over,” Sunny said encouragingly.

“Hey, sure I will.” Belinda's smile hid her worry.

“Say goodbye to Billy for me,” she said as they drove off, Nate leading the way on the Ducati, back in his bumblebee Lycra and the matching helmet and goggles.

“Just don't get mixed up with those Tour de France cyclists en route,” Mac yelled after him. “They'll take you apart.”

Laughing, Nate waved a nonchalant hand.

“Well!” Sunny leaned against Mac as the car turned out of the hotel driveway and was gone. “What do we do now?”

“Pray,” Mac said grimly. He wasn't too sure the husband wasn't already back and on the trail. “Trouble is you can never trust a mobster.”

“I'm praying.” Sunny took his hand. The sun was just up and everything was peachy pink. “Let's go for a walk on the beach?”

They strolled hand in hand along the water's edge with Pirate dodging happily between their legs. It was too early for Tesoro who had opted to stay in bed.

“Well, we've lost two of our Misfits,” Mac said. He threw a pebble, laughing as Pirate galloped after it, one ear up, one down. He was fast on his three legs. “That's my boy,” Mac called. He loved that dog to pieces.

“I'm going to miss them.” Sunny's arm was round his waist and she matched her own long-legged stride with his even longer one. She stopped to roll up her white capris. She was wearing an old T-shirt Mac had given her a couple of years before, with
MALIBU NIGHTS
in sparkly script across the chest. She would never part with that T-shirt, it would remain a tangible memory forever.

Mac kicked up some sand with his bare toes. “Funny how attached to them you can get. I mean, we came here for a quiet vacation, alone . . .”

Sunny laughed, remembering. “And Sara said all she signed up for was a quiet cruise.”

“I'm willing to bet Nate Masterson is gonna change her life.”

“Good luck to him.” She tugged at Mac's arm. “How about changing ours, baby? Think we'll at least be able to spend time on the beach before we get married?”

He stopped and kissed her on the lips. Red lipsticky lips because even at dawn, Sunny would not be caught without her Dior Rouge lipstick; she said even a slick of color made a girl feel good. He ran his hand up under the back of her T-shirt. She did the same and they stood, face-to-face with the glimmering Mediterranean behind them and the dog edging his way between their feet.

“How could I ever be without you?” He kissed her some more, then stepped back. “But first, I have to deal with Krendler.”

They walked on again, arms still round each other. They were at Bertrand's rock now, where he'd dived to rescue Laureen's silver necklace and come up with Caroline's white handbag full of sodden euros. On the right was the almost-hidden path that led between the umbrella pines and tamarisks to Chez La Violette.

They stood, gazing up at the villa's windows, a dull metallic gray, not even picking up a hint of the peachy sunrise.

“I wonder if those kids could be right,” Mac said, thoughtfully. “Perhaps the stolen paintings are hidden at Chez La Violette after all.”

Sunny shrugged. “There's nothing there. There's not even anywhere to
hide
anything.” She was thinking about Violette though and wondering where the answer might be.

“Hey, let's go get some coffee.”

She brightened up. “Breakfast?”

“You got it.”

On the way back they encountered Bertrand with his dog on a string, sneaking out of the back entrance and through the parking lot.

He jumped, startled when he saw them. “Just taking my dog for a walk,” he explained, as Pirate wagged his way up for a sniff.

Looking at them, Sunny thought it was a miracle what a dog and a friend could do. She was willing to bet there had been few smiles in Bertrand's life up to now.

But then a thought occurred to her. “I wonder what will happen to the dog when Bertrand's mother gets back,” she said to Mac, suddenly worried.

 

75.

 

 

It was one of the best days Billy could remember in a long time. His daughter was smiling again.