by L. B. Simon
"Is that your mom?" She moved into the room for a closer inspection.
"Yes; Lise Janvier, the half-blooded girl who never fit in." He followed her into the chamber.
"She was beautiful!" Savy admired the bright-eyed teen who grinned at the photographer, her hair coal black, her eyes obsidian, and her skin a deep shade of caramel.
"Yes, she was." His hand trembled as he picked up the frame.
"I am sorry for your loss," she whispered, raising her gaze to him.
"I barely knew or remember her; she couldn’t see me too much. It always brought on fits of flashbacks… Though I do remember her holding me in her arms and kissing my hair, and singing. Oh! She had the voice of a lark!" A smile softened his hard features.
"You said she never fit in?" Savy frowned.
"Yes, she was half white. Her father was a Roma musician, who stopped by her mother’s town one spring day, and they had a fling. The family never forgave my grandmother for having a colored child. My mother had it tough from the moment she took her first breath." Samuel put down the photo and walked to the portrait of an older woman and a younger version of Mélisande, hanging across from his bed. "Funny how the Roma are hated by society and are considered a separate people, though we had been here in Europe for centuries."
"But you aren’t really Roma! If your mom was half..." Savy noted.
"Oh! My Roma blood shows on my skin, that is enough for some to set me apart."
"What happened to your mother?" Savy redirected the conversation to safer grounds.
"She suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder. She had horrible and vivid flashbacks that even medication and therapy couldn’t ease. Unable to cope any longer, one night she took a whole bottle of medication, and it killed her. She was just a child herself," he said in one breath as if it was too hard to utter the words. "But she is in a better place now…"
"I am sorry. You too must have had a tough childhood," Savannah whispered.
"I had a splendid upbringing, actually! I was loved by my mother, by Grand-mère, and my sister." He pointed to the painting over the fireplace. "I never wanted for anything."
"And yet here you are, a mess." Savy’s words made him glare down at her.
Their eyes locked and he realized just how close they stood.
"That’s too bad." She examined his face.
"You know, you are a sweet kid," he smirked and stepped away, moving to the other side of the bed.
"Kid?" Savy felt the heat rise up her neck. "Is that all you see when you look at me?"
Samuel’s disposable phone rang.
"Hi! Yes, I can get her different clothes. Okay! Nikita, driving a cab, in twenty minutes. Got it." He hung up. "Let me see if Naomi is still here."
Savannah went back to the living room and sat down in a chair. She was confused, to say the least. Sure, he was attractive and even good looking, but Samuel had made comments about her age several times. It bothered him that she was young, she realized. He was deliberately trying to push her away! She had no luck with men.
She ran her hand over her short hair, that fell today in soft bangs over her forehead. She wasn’t beautiful, she was just okay. No wonder he wasn’t interested in her, he was friends with a model. He must have beauties vying for his attention.
"Excuse me," Naomi said studying her from the doorway. "Are you okay, chérie?"
Savannah got up, nodding silently.
"Samuel says you need to change your clothes. I think mine would be all wrong on you; I’m taller and thinner. But Sabine’s might do. Come."
Savannah followed her silently to the other bedroom.
"How about this?" Naomi stood by a closet, holding up a pantsuit.
But Savannah just stared blankly.
"Okay, you got to talk to me. Is it me and my sexual orientation you have a problem with or Samuel?"
"I don’t have any problems with you!" Savy opened wide eyes. "God, why would I?"
"Okay, I’m glad to hear that! You can’t imagine how many people have an issue with this." Naomi smiled, truly relieved, waving her hand to encompass her bedroom. "Samuel; that is one problem that we can fix easily. He can be stubborn about the darn stupidest things. I think we need something else." The model hung the suit back in the closet. Instead, she picked a knee-length black cocktail dress with lace panels in the back and a pair of white, lacy heels. "Try this on. It might give him something to think about."
"I’m not sure I want to get him thinking," Savannah confessed.
"That bad, huh? I understand. How about this then; put that dress on to look like you actually belong in this building. Pick out some sunglasses too, and this here is my makeup stash. Use whatever you like." Naomi smiled and gave her a quick hug. "I hope to see you soon! Bye!" Grabbing her keys, she left the room.
Savannah hesitated a long moment, then changed from the uniform into the dress. She explored the cosmetics lining the table by the window. She dabbed on a bit of nude bronze lipstick and borrowed a pair of sunglasses.
She emptied her bag and used her shaping wax to change her hair, and bring out the blue highlights that were invisible while her hair wasn’t styled. She turned her purse inside out, revealing a different style and returned all her belongings in it. Slipping on the shoes that were surprisingly only a half size bigger, she walked out of the room.
Samuel saw her and his breath caught in his lungs. He had not expected her to look like that; all legs and sexy. She was just a kid, he reminded himself. He held up his bottle of water and took a long swig, then cleared his throat.
"You want to eat something? I can make an omelet."
Savy shook her head. She couldn’t swallow a bite, with her stomach in nodes as it was now. They just stood there awkwardly for a moment.
"I will wait downstairs." Savy headed for the door, feeling uncomfortable being alone with Samuel.
As she walked past him, he grabbed her arm.
"You can wait here," his voice had become deeper, more tender.
"It’s okay. Take care." She tried to pull her arm away, but he did not release her arm.
"I can’t let you go," he whispered, sending shivers down her spine. "It’s too dangerous. Not just for you but for François too…" Samuel got hold of his emotions and had regained his usual gruffness. "Please stay…" He slowly let her go.
"Aren’t I too young to be left unchaperoned with you?" She met his gaze for an instant.
He hesitated and she smirked.
"As for François, he made his bed, now he must lay in it. Goodbye, Monsieur Janvier."
His phone rang again, as he was about to follow her.
"Yes, she is on her way down." Samuel ended the call and joined her at the door. "Nikita is downstairs."
As he spoke, Savy opened the door and walked out as if not hearing him.
"I’ll accompany you." Samuel’s long legs caught up with her in an instant. "I like us to be friends," he said as they got into the elevator. "Will you ignore me forever now?" He made a pouting face.
"I just don’t have the energy to be friends with men who don’t know what they want; I’m too old to put up with all that shit." Her eyes were steady on his. "One minute I’m a kid, the next let’s be friends. You are so good at analyzing others, why don’t you analyze yourself instead?"
"Touché," he whispered, his words dripping with sadness, but his face stoic as he averted his gaze.
The elevator finally stopped on the ground floor and the doors slid open. She walked out as if they were total strangers. Samuel just stood by the elevator. She didn’t spare him a glance, simply walked out into the street where she got into a cab.
"Are you okay?" Nikita studied her in the rear-view mirror. "You look like you just had your heart ripped out."
"That’s probably because it just was…" Savannah forced back the sob that was choking her.
Chapter 57
"What happened?" Aidan launched at Savy. "You had me worried sick!"
Savannah was p
ale as a ghost, as she stepped into Mélisande’s hotel room.
"Aidan, please." Isa, the mothering soul of the team immediately picked up on Savy’s mood.
"I had been given enough hell today." Savannah bit back. "François sends you this." She reached into her bra and gave her brother the papers. "He also confirmed that Céline kept the sapphires. And Renaud is doing an inventory of all her belongings, the price of joining the family, or something along those lines according to the fiancé. He also admitted that he was forced to spy on you, Mélisande, and he is extremely sorry about that. It was like we suspected; they had uncovered his marriage and threatened to kill his wife. They were all in it!" She pulled the glasses out of her bag. "Here is the footage of the room with the safe." She threw it to Aidan, who caught it mid-air. "Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to get changed and have a shower. I will see you all later."
"We aren’t done talking!" Aidan called after her, a red flush brightening his cheeks. "You got in a car with a total stranger! Are you out of your mind? Do you realize that you could have gotten yourself killed? I had Nikita minutes away, I was sending him to pick you up! Didn’t you think that I had someone close by if Renaud was at the house?"
Savy’s façade of defiance fell for an instant. She had forgotten that they had the man followed. Aidan must have had to find someone else to watch Renaud while Nikita went to get her.
She wasn’t used to be thrown into dangerous situations; always playing on the sideline.
"Yes, and I would be dead, most likely by now, if I would have waited around on the road!" She regained her composure and anger. "Seeing how Renaud sent his goons to hunt me down! They were only a minute or two behind François. I appreciate that you care and I realize that I gave you a fright, for which I am sorry. But I had to make a decision seeing the situation I was in and I had taken all the shit I could for one day, so, unless you want me to take the next flight to Toronto, I suggest you get off my back!" Savy whirled on her heels and slammed the door shut behind her.
"What happened to her?" Aidan faced his friends.
"Rotten day?" Isa suggested.
"Give me your phone, I will call Samuel." Mélisande took the disposable mobile and went into Aidan’s room, far enough not to be overheard. "What the hell happened, Samuel?" She demanded as he picked up.
"Hello! Lovely to talk to you too," he grumbled with an angry edge in his tone.
"Savannah is upset, and I have a feeling there is more to it than her being sacked." Mélisande was pacing the room.
"I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt the kid’s feelings…"
"She’s not a kid." Mélisande pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming on. "It’s your loss if you can’t see her for all that she is. Now that I have a clear picture of why she is cross, what else happened? Did you find out?"
He related the story as best he knew.
"Thank you, Samuel. And you know what? I do love you, but you can be such an arrogant ass sometimes, that I am ashamed of being related to you!" Furious, she hung up and returned to her friends.
"What did he tell you?" Aidan scrutinized her with concern.
She told him what she learned.
"What else?" He persisted.
"Nothing for you to be worried about. Samuel and Savannah had a misunderstanding."
"A misunderstanding? About what?" Aidan frowned.
"I think Samuel fell back into his twelve-year-old schoolyard behavior." Mélisande sighed and glanced away.
"I see…" Aidan relaxed. "Well, that is one can of worms they will have to deal with on their own."
"I totally agree!" Mélisande nodded as she sat down next to Isa. "So, what’s next?"
"This is the guest list that François generously provided us with. I need you to go through it and mark every single name that you do not recognize. I will have Miss Furious do a search on them." Aidan gave her the sheets and a highlighter.
"You think that there might be someone of interest at the event?" Isa asked.
"I sure hope so!" Aidan rubbed his hands together.
Mélisande started perusing the pages, while Aidan downloaded the recording caught by the glasses. Many of the same people who had attended her function were invited. She had reached almost the end of the last page when two names stood out to her like sore thumbs.
"I think you guys want to see this." Mélisande held up the page.
Aidan and Isa who were studying the footage got up and joined her.
"Now this is very interesting." Aidan’s gaze lit up as he read over her shoulder. A mischievous grin spread over his face. "Let’s see the footage and finalize our plans for tomorrow! I think I have a brilliant idea, if I may say so myself…"
Chapter 58
Mélisande grabbed the tray loaded with champagne flutes. Her hand was steady, but not her heart. This was her first round in the room; what if she was recognized. No one should be looking for her, she was dead after all, but one never knew. She had a chestnut shoulder length wig on, that made her scalp itch, her brown contact lenses, and Sasha had masterfully made up her face. Mélisande wasn’t sure her own mother would have recognized her.
She took a calming breath, repeating this thought to herself and forced a big smile on her face. She entered the large party room, where about sixty people mingled. There were a few tables scattered around and some chairs, but most guests were standing.
Mélisande moved smoothly amongst the crowd, offering drinks, and taking away empty glasses. She kept her tray up, at face level, always aware of where Belmont and François were in the room; they were, after all, the most likely to recognize her, so she had to steer clear of them. Fortunately, Svetlana had enough staff on the floor for Mélisande’s behavior not to stand out.
Céline was beside herself with joy, her eyes ablaze, looking elegant in a black, strapless, flowing gown. She had Belmont at her side and Renaud was never too far away, talking with the more prominent of the guests.
Mélisande wanted to gag each time she caught sight of her cousin. She still could not understand why Céline had done what she had. They had barely known each other.
"Pardon!" Mélisande was stopped by Sandra Renaud, in all her pregnant glory. "Could you please get me a drink? Something non-alcoholic?" The woman’s cheerful gray eyes bore into hers.
"Of course, Madame." Mélisande had perfected a Russian accent and her pitch was a bit higher than usual.
"And something to eat, but nothing fancy, please. We are starving, but can’t eat everything; never ending morning sickness, even this late into the pregnancy!" Sandra beamed apologetically, running her hand over her swollen belly.
"Most certainly, Madame!"
"I’ll be in that alcove, right over there," the pregnant woman pointed to a small sitting area with two upholstered powder blue wing chairs.
Mélisande nodded and made her way back to the kitchen.
"I need a non-alcoholic drink and something plain to eat for a pregnant woman." She told Svetlana.
"David, get a Sherley Temple, easy on the syrup," Sveta called to one of the helpers. "Here are some crackers and hard cheese."
Mélisande made her way back to the alcove, the food plate and the drink covered so that no one grabbed them. Sandra was leaning back in the chair, tired and a bit pale. The woman was studying her carefully as Mélisande set the dishes on a nearby table.
"Merci!" Sandra took a sip of the drink, then a bite from a cracker. "Do I know you? My memory is a blur from all these hormones, but I am sure we have met before."
"I don’t remember meeting you. Maybe we crossed paths at another event?" Mélisande felt the hair on the back of her neck bristle; she had to get away from Sandra as quickly as possible.
"Non, I am sure that is not it. Do you know my husband, François Renaud?"
Mélisande shook her head in response.
"Oh! Never mind!" Sandra shrugged. "Thank you for your kindness!"
Mélisande nodded and walked away. She was on
a mission; she couldn’t let herself get distracted. She continued going around the room and back to the kitchen for the next half hour, crossing paths with Isa several times. Soon Mélisande will have to move on to her second task. She was running out of time. Have they decided not to show up?
Then, moving aside as a group of people rushed by, Mélisande heard a foreign language. She stepped into the small room, beaming at the men.
"Messieurs, a drink? I have champagne here, but if you would like something else, I will get it for you." The two men exchanged glances.
"Do you have any beer?" One asked.
"We most certainly do! Heineken, Beck’s or Stella Artois?" She examined each man inconspicuously; making sure that they were indeed whom she was looking for.
"How about good old Beck’s! Two, please!"
"Just to make it a real celebration for a job well done!" The second man chuckled and his friend nodded approvingly.
"Coming right up!"
Mélisande heaved a sigh of relief as she entered the kitchen, and saw that Isa was prepping the drinks. Mélisande asked her friend for two beers, then ran her hand up and down her right arm as if it was hurting. Isa smiled encouragingly and hurried to get the drinks.
"You seem tired. Do you want a break?"
"No, thanks, I am good!" Mélisande nodded gratefully and headed back to the room.
The tension in Isa’s muscles dissipated as she watched Mélisande leave. Everything was, after all, going according to plan. Throwing a glance over her shoulder and reassuring herself that Svetlana was no longer looking her way, she pulled out her cell and dialed a number.
Chapter 59
After having delivered the beers to the men, Mélisande hurried to the back hallway and let Aidan in. He made his way to the office hall, planting small cameras along the way for Savy, while Mélisande continued her rounds amongst the guests.
It might have been the adrenalin blurring her mind or she had blinked at the wrong moment, but all of a sudden, she found herself standing next to Belmont.
Her father didn’t bother glancing at her as he reached for a flute, regarding instead the crowd that buzzed around them, a satisfied smile stretching his mouth. As a server, she was not worthy of his acknowledgment; her heart tightened with anger. She wanted to shout at him, tell him that he shouldn’t be so elated, that she was coming after him. Instead, she took a deep breath and headed back to the kitchen.