by Amber Crewes
Meghan felt defensive, and she furrowed her brow. “I only mentioned the detective because I’ve run into him all over town,” she explained. “It was funny. He’s the one who told me all about Oliver Baptiste’s wealthy family, Jack. Oliver and I didn’t even chat that long.”
Jack said nothing, and Meghan felt her heart beating furiously inside of her chest. “Jack? I just wanted to fill you in on what’s going on over here. The detective and I had such a good conversation; he told me that Oliver and his family will sometimes invest in small businesses, and if he and I became friends….”
Jack scoffed. “You live in Sandy Bay, Meghan. Why would a Frenchman have any interest in investing in your bakery?”
Meghan frowned. “His deceased sister was passionate about empowering small businesses, and she loved baking,” she murmured. “The detective suggested I mention Truly Sweet the next time I see Oliver. Who knows what could happen?”
“I think it’s time you come home, Meghan,” he snorted. “You’ve been running around Paris with all of these fellows, and a murder happened at your convention! I wanted you to have a nice, quiet trip to France, you know? I just don’t feel right about all of this.”
Meghan stared at the ceiling. She could understand Jack’s frustrations; she had gone on and on about Oliver and Detective Giroud, and she felt inconsiderate for making her boyfriend listen to her ramble about the two French men.
“I’m sorry, Jack,” Meghan said softly as she pursed her lips. “You’re right. This hasn’t been fair to you. We’ve barely spoken all week, and I didn’t even ask about you. I’m sorry.”
“I understand,” he breathed. “You’re just excited. I miss you though, Meghan. I think you should come home soon.”
Meghan sighed. “Okay, Jack,” she agreed. “I will come home early.”
Jack happily chattered for another few minutes, but Meghan was not listening. She thought of her conversation with the detective, and how he had encouraged her to get close to Oliver Baptise. “It could help your business,” Detective Giroud had suggested in his thick French accent. “It’s just a thought, lovely Meghan….”
“Just a thought I think I will have to act on before I hop on the next flight home,” Meghan thought to herself as Jack talked. “An investment from someone like Oliver Baptiste could change my whole business--and my whole life! I must talk with him again before I leave the city.”
10
“I’M SO HAPPY you called, Meghan,” Oliver purred as he and Meghan sat together in the hotel bar. Meghan stared into his dark eyes as he smiled at her. “It was so sad to see you crying in the lobby, and I’m glad to see a pleasant look on that beautiful face of yours.”
Meghan felt the color rise to her face. Oliver was incredibly handsome, and Meghan was impressed with his style and charm.
“This is the perfect distraction, actually,” Oliver admitted. “My sister’s husband was arrested earlier for the murder. We always suspected that the scoundrel only married dear Monica for our money, but now, it seems that our worst fears have been confirmed.
“I’m so sorry to hear that, Oliver,” she said, her voice slightly shaking as she sipped her soda. “I’m glad to hear that it seems the murderer has been apprehended, though. What a terrible time.”
Oliver sighed. “It’s is terrible,” he agreed. “But your sweet face in front of me makes it all better. Now, do tell me, Meghan, why did you reach out to me?”
Meghan took a deep breath. “I heard that you and your family sometimes make investments in small businesses,” she began. “I own my bakery back home in Sandy Bay, and I am looking to eventually expand it. I wanted to know if you had any interest in making an investment. It’s an adorable little place, and it’s my passion.”
Oliver grinned. “Tell me more, beautiful Meghan,” he implored. “You know how passionate my sister was about baking, and I think a donation or an investment in your bakery could honor her memory.”
Meghan could not keep the smile off of her face. “Really?”
Oliver reached over and squeezed her hand, his deep dimples impossible to ignore as he beamed at Meghan. “Really. Here, take my card; I would love to formally meet with you in the Baptiste offices downtown. Tomorrow?”
Meghan nodded. “I would love that!”
Oliver rose from his stool at the bar and bowed to Meghan. “Fantastic. I must run now; I have a call to make in a few minutes. I await the time when I will see your lovely face tomorrow, Mademoiselle.”
Meghan stared at Oliver as he strode out of the bar. She felt the tug of butterflies in her stomach; she could not help her attraction to Oliver, but she tried to squash the feelings as she thought of Jack back home in Sandy Bay. She had been thrilled to start dating Jack; he was caring and considerate, and Meghan knew that he deserved her very best.
“No more chats with French men,” Meghan vowed as she rose from her stool. “My chat with Oliver tomorrow will be the last talk I have with a French man before I go home to my sweet boyfriend.”
“Is that right?”
Meghan gasped as Detective Giroud walked up behind her. “I hope that is not the case, Mademoiselle Meghan.”
Meghan blushed as the detective gestured at the table she had just risen from. “Please sit, Meghan Truman. Chat with me; I would be devastated to see my favorite little American girl leave France without a proper goodbye.”
Meghan obediently sat down across from the detective. “I hear there was a big break in the case today,” she said quietly. “Oliver mentioned that Monica’s husband was arrested?”
Detective Giroud’s face darkened. “I wanted to talk about you, mon cherie,” he answered. “But I suppose I can answer your question. Yes, we arrested Monica’s husband. The case is officially considered closed.”
Meghan breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s wonderful news!”
The detective agreed. “It is. So strange that a snake bite killed her, though….”
Meghan cocked her head to the side. “A snake bite?”
Detective Giroud’s eyes widened, and he nervously stroked his mustache. “I have said too much,” he began. “Well, now that I have mentioned it...we aren’t sure how the husband did it, but it seems that she died from a snake bite.”
“That’s awful,” Meghan declared.
The detective stared at Meghan. “You were talking to Oliver Baptiste for some time,” he pointed out. “Seems like the pair of you have become good friends.”
Meghan raised an eyebrow. “You were the one who told me about his interest in investing in small businesses,” she responded. “I spoke with him because you seemed to encourage it, detective.”
Detective Giroud shook his head. “You must have misunderstood me,” he replied. “I didn’t mean for you to pursue him…”
Meghan held up her hands. “I’m not pursuing him! I’m pursuing his business, detective!”
Detective Giroud frowned. He reached across the table and kissed Meghan on both cheeks.
“Goodbye, Mademoiselle Truman,” he whispered. “My very best wishes on your new connection with Oliver Baptise.”
11
“ARE YOU SURE I can’t go with you?” Molly pleaded as Meghan buttoned her jacket. “With everything going on in Paris, I feel like you could use some back up.”
Meghan smiled at Molly, but she shook her head. “I will be fine, Molly,” she insisted. “The murderer was caught. Besides, it’s just some quick business talk, and then I will be back in time for us to make it to the airport for the evening flight.”
Molly scowled. “I just don’t know,” she argued. “It just seems too convenient that Monica’s husband killed her when Carla hated her so much. And what about Andrew Meekse? He seemed suspicious. What if it’s a trap, Meghan? What if the real killer is still on the loose?”
Meghan rolled her eyes. “Molly, I’m a big girl! I’ll be fine.”
Twenty minutes later, Meghan strolled into the lobby of the Baptiste Building, a grand skyscraper
in the business district of Paris. She was ushered to the top floor by a petite brunette secretary, and Oliver smiled warmly as Meghan entered his private office.
“What a beautiful sight to see,” Oliver purred as he gently brought Meghan’s hands to his lips. “Meghan Truman, the American beauty!”
Meghan blushed. She could not ignore Oliver’s deep, dark eyes or broad shoulders, and she struggled to maintain her professionalism as she sat across from Oliver at his desk. “I would love to hear more about your business endeavors, Oliver,” she stated primly as she folded her hands in her lap. “Please, tell me more.”
Oliver spent the next twenty minutes discussing the Baptiste family history, as well as his hopes for the future. “I want to take the business even further than my sister did,” he explained as Meghan nodded. “I want to expand our family business. My sister was happy to keep things in France, but I want more for us; now that poor, dear Monica is gone, I will be making all of the decisions for the Baptiste family, and I want our successes to go to the next level.”
“I admire your ambition,” Meghan gushed as Oliver winked at her. “You are so stoic during this tragic time, and I think that is so impressive.”
Oliver stared into Meghan’s dark eyes. “I think investing in your little bakery might be a wise step in capturing the attention of the American markets,” he said slowly as Meghan’s face grew hot. “You have such spirit, Meghan, and I know a good businesswoman when I meet one.”
Meghan smiled. “You are too kind, Oliver.”
Oliver shook his head. “No, you are too beautiful! Meghan? May I show you something? Something I’ve never shown to anyone before?”
Meghan nodded, and Oliver took her hand and led her down a dark corridor. “Where are we going?” Meghan asked.
“I want to show you my friends,” Oliver explained with another wink. “My special friends….”
Oliver led Meghan into a black room, and she gasped as he pushed a button and turned on the lights. “These are my treasures, Meghan! Are you impressed? These friends of mine have come from all over the world. I collect them, you see.”
Meghan’s jaw dropped. The room was filled with cases upon cases of live snakes. There were enormous snakes, small snakes, colorful snakes, sleeping snakes, and hissing snakes, and Meghan felt her heart beat faster as she shrank back from Oliver. He looked over, frowning as he saw the fearful look on her face.
“What is the matter, Meghan?” Oliver Inquired as Meghan shrank away from him.
“It’s nothing,” Meghan assured him as she looked between the glass cases. “I’m fine!”
“You clearly are not fine,” Oliver declared. “What is the matter? Tell Oliver, Meghan. You can trust me!”
Meghan felt Oliver’s eyes on her as her face grew pale. “I’m fine. Just fine! I just don’t love snakes. They scare me a bit, Oliver.”
Oliver cocked his head to the side. “I’m here to protect you and I can assure you that these snakes are not poisonous. They are harmless,” he soothed, reaching for Meghan’s hand. She pulled her hand away, and he scowled at her.
“Something is the matter,” Oliver stated. “I can see it from the look on your face, Meghan Truman.”
“No!” Meghan protested. “The snakes are just making me nervous, Oliver. There’s nothing else.”
“You know, don’t you?” Oliver whispered as Meghan’s eyes widened. “You know.”
Meghan shook her head. “What are you talking about?”
Oliver grabbed her by the wrists and held her tightly. “Every emotion you have is on your face, Mademoiselle Meghan,” he whispered. “You’re looking at me as though I were a killer.”
Meghan held back the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Oliver. Let’s go back to the office and discuss business. Please?”
Oliver glanced at the snakes slithering about in their glass displays. “Imagine being the oldest son in a powerful family,” he murmured as Meghan’s body grew cold. “Imagine being primed to take over a booming business, but having everything taken away from you….”
Meghan closed her eyes. “Oliver, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied as she tried to break free of his strong grip on her wrists.
“Imagine having more education, more brains, and more charm than your silly little sister,” he continued. “Imagine none of that mattering when you get into a little drink driving accident and have your life ruined!”
Meghan shook as she opened her eyes and found Oliver glaring at her. “Go on, Meghan,” Oliver dared. “Ask me. Ask me what happened.”
Meghan bit her lip, and Oliver pulled her toward one of the glass displays. A huge, thick green snake hissed at Meghan, and she shuddered as Oliver pushed her face against the glass. “Ask me, Meghan.”
“What did you do, Oliver? What happened?”
Oliver laughed menacingly. “When I was a teenager, I made a little mistake. I was drunk, there was an accident, and someone died. My father stripped me of my place as the heir to this company, and Monica was given my role.”
Meghan slipped out of Oliver’s grip and ran toward the door. Oliver chased her, catching her by her long, dark ponytail and yanking her hair. “Get back here! You know too much, so you might as well know it all, Mademoiselle! My father took my future from me and gave the future to my sister. She became the face of the Baptiste empire. I couldn’t stand it anymore, Meghan. I couldn’t stand the mistakes Monica made, or her lack of ambition.”
“You killed her, didn’t you?” she asked, reaching an arm back to loosen Oliver’s grip on her hair. “You murdered your sister.”
Oliver chuckled. “I did,” he admitted, pulling Meghan closer to him. “And now, it appears that I will have to dispose of you as well, Meghan Truman. Such a pity too. You were such a pretty little thing…”
Oliver threw Meghan onto the white tile floor. “I swear, this will be quick, Meghan! Snake bites don’t hurt too badly….”
Meghan kicked and screamed as Oliver reached behind to retrieve a black velvet bag. She heard the sinister hiss of a snake, and Oliver grinned. “The snakes you see? They are harmless,” Oliver explained to Meghan as she shook in fear. “The only truly lethal one I have is in this bag. It’s a little one, you see; the snake in this bag is no larger than your pinkie finger, but its venom could stop the heart of an elephant within ten seconds!”
Meghan inched away from Oliver as he dangled the black velvet bag above her face. “Oliver! Please! Please don’t bring out your snake!”
Oliver nodded at the black velvet bag. “It’ll be quick, just like I told you, Meghan. It’ll feel like a little tickle.”
Meghan screamed as Oliver grabbed her hand and tried to force it inside of the bag. She reared back her head and bashed it into Oliver’s. He cried out in pain, dropping the velvet bag, and Meghan began yelling. “Help! Help me!”
Oliver moaned, falling to the side and giving Meghan the perfect opportunity to stand up. The deadly snake had crawled out of its place in the bag; it was a thin, red snake with purple spots, and it began moving toward Meghan.
“Call off your deadly snake, Oliver!” Meghan pleaded as the little snake reached her. “Make it stop! Put it back in its bag!”
The snake moved quickly around Meghan’s waist, lightly nipping at her skin and tightening itself on her chest. “Please, Oliver, don’t do this,” Meghan begged as she collapsed onto the floor. Oliver collected himself and ran to stand over Meghan’s body.
“You’ve left me no choice, Meghan,” Oliver declared as the snake licked Meghan’s cheek. “I can’t let you just leave after you heard my dirty little secrets….”
The snake began to bite at Meghan’s skin, and she began to see stars as she lay on the floor. Its small sleek body moved against her face, and Meghan felt her lungs constrict.
“Stop right there!”
Just as the snake reared back to bite Meghan on the nose, she heard Detective Giroud’s
deep voice. “Oliver Baptiste! You have been caught, sir!
12
“WE HAD BEEN KEEPING OUR EYES on Oliver the entire time,” the detective explained to Meghan as he accompanied her ambulance to the hospital. “We knew that the husband did not kill her, and we knew we needed to have Oliver’s guard down.”
Meghan sank back in the gurney, her body still shaking. Detective Giroud had easily apprehended Oliver, arriving at the Baptiste Building with nearly twenty-five officers. Oliver had not put up a fight, and Meghan was relieved that Detective Giroud had arrived just in time to save her life.