Zouzou burst out from the underbrush and tackled Grace around her legs, making her falter but not fall.
“Zouzou, you little monster!” Grace laughed, wrapping her arms around her daughter and trying to tug her into her arms. “If this is an ambush, I’ll have you know I can retaliate with rapid-fire tickling.” Zouzou shrieked and twisted out of Grace’s grasp. She ran back around a large lavender bush that anchored the north corner of the flagstone terrace.
Haley appeared from inside the house and set down a tray of drinks glasses on the large outdoor dining table. She had little Jem snugly tucked into a carrier she wore in front. He was awake and, unlike how Maggie usually wore the carrier, was facing outward. Actually, Haley’s way made more sense, Grace realized.
The baby was kicking his feet and looking at the world around him, his fists reaching out to grab at the trees, the tablecloth or the ears of Laurent’s big hunting dogs, Inge and Marthe. Little Petit Four, Maggie’s scraggly poodle terrier mix, wisely spent most of her time under tables and away from Zouzou’s insistent demonstrations of love.
“Drinkies, Grace,” Haley called to her. “Laurent thought this would lure you in.”
“The man knows me too well,” Grace said, dropping the flower basket on a chair and surveying the tray of drinks. She picked up a cold crystal glass with crushed ice and cut limes in it. One sip told her it was vodka, but infused with something she couldn’t put her finger on. Basil?
She settled in a chair and put the drink down before reaching out for Jem. “Shall I take him? He looks heavy.”
“He’s absolutely no trouble at all,” Haley said, unbuckling him and slipping him out of the harness. “But it is a little warm.” She handed him to Grace and sat back in her chair and smiled. “You should have another,” Haley said. “You look beautiful with a baby in your arms.”
“I look even better when it’s somebody else’s baby,” Grace said. “Did you have a good day? Did Zouzou behave herself?”
“She was an angel. I could eat her with a spoon. Did you get a lot of work done?”
Grace took a long sip her of her drink, turning her face away. “Not near enough,” she said. “I don’t really know what I’m doing.”
“I’ll bet you’re doing better than you think.”
“Thanks. I suppose time will tell.”
Later—much later—Grace would remember the next several seconds as happening in slow motion. She would realize that time had slowed down and along with it the ability to move or react or think until all she could do was sit frozen in her chair, a baby on her lap, and listen to the terrified screams of her child as they reverberating across the lawn and into the atmosphere.
I hope you enjoyed this sample of Murder in Nice, Book 6 in the Maggie Newberry Mystery Series, and if you’re interested in how it all plays out, please find it at Amazon.com along with the rest of Maggie’s adventures!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Susan Kiernan-Lewis lives in Nocatee, Florida and writes mysteries and romantic suspense. Like many authors, Susan depends on the reviews and word of mouth referrals of her readers. If you enjoyed Race to World’s End, please consider leaving a review saying so on Amazon.com, Barnesandnoble.com or Goodreads.com.
Check out Susan’s website at susankiernanlewis.com and feel free to contact her at [email protected].
Race to World's End (Rowan and Ella Book 3) Page 37