I looked at her rhinestone-dotted tee shirt that sort of matched her rhinestone sunglasses, skinny jeans and silver sandals. Thank goodness I had sunglasses on. It was quite a blinding getup.
She might have a point. She looked as though she had just stepped off one of the cruise ships in the harbor.
After taking turns checking out the truck, Hazel said, “I agree. I think they’ve never seen anything quite like you.”
Martha looked suspicious. “Was that a wisecrack?”
Hazel smiled sweetly. “Didn’t you get my nuance?”
Betty cut in. “They’re probably looking for an address.”
“Frenchmen like hot women!” said Martha, primping.
I checked out the truck, laughing. The two men inside were looking straight at us. “Maybe you’re right.”
Betty checked her watch. “Let’s get a move on, ladies.”
An hour into the spree, Hazel continued, “…nine…”
Martha turned to her. “I think we all got the message.”
“She’s only counting Lamborghinis.” Betty said.
“Yeah, but she sounds like a tourist for goodness sake.”
Hazel stopped short, staring at Martha. “Listen to who’s talking, Miss Rhinestone Sunglasses.”
Martha adjusted them. “A woman always needs bling.”
Betty pointed at Martha. “Talk about being touristy.”
I felt a headache coming on from the heat. “Hey, can we move along?” Then I noticed that same truck from earlier parked off to the side with the same two men inside. I shrugged them off. Deliverymen, I thought and walked on to the next shop.
Two hours later, I felt like a dishrag, starting to sweat and becoming dizzy from tramping in and out of dozens of boutiques, waiting and watching my friends try on bathing suits, gold chains, high heeled sandals, colorful skirts and bicker about sizes and prices with the store personnel. Where did they get the energy? I was running on my last cylinder of stamina and patience as we exited a shop, standing outside on the sidewalk, my decision finally made.
I looked down at my watch. “I think I’ve had enough!”
Betty looked startled. “Why, we’re just getting started.”
“It’s still early,” Hazel added, checking her watch.
Martha simply smiled. “I’m impressed that you lasted so long. Obviously, you are not a pro at shopping like us.”
I raised my hands in praise. “Amen to that. If I see lace, smell potpourri or perfume one more time, I think I’ll throw up.”
Hazel patted my shoulder gently. “We’ll walk faster.”
I pointed out on her map a wharf café. “Just in case we’re separated, we’ll meet there,” I said, pointing. “At the Café Provence at three p.m., okay?”
Betty nodded. “We better move along then, ladies.”
“Come on. We’ll have to hustle to cover the rest of those shops,” ordered Martha, tugging me along.
“Isn’t this exciting?” asked Hazel.
“Will you check out that guy in shorts!” said Martha.
“Which one?” Betty asked, fussing with her hair.
I dawdled, letting them get ahead. It was all a bit much and I really was getting tired. I called out to Martha. “I’ll meet you at three, okay?”
She stared at me for a second and nodded, then finally waved me off good-naturedly. “If you insist.”
I spotted a bikini in the window of the next boutique. Not bad. I went in, plunked my card down to purchase it in my size, and exited in five minutes flat. Now that was my version of shopping!
I really let them go so I could rest at the café by myself to think. I wanted to write up some notes about the truck even though they were probably deliverymen. Maybe I could convince my editor that there was something more sinister about the truck.
I sighed. It was hard to come up with a good reason for why two men in a van would be trailing three old ladies on a shopping spree. I laughed. Even I couldn’t explain that one.
Chapter 42
Running Interference & Running Scared
I spotted that same truck again that Martha had pointed out earlier. The two men inside were still staring at me. I didn’t like it—unlike Martha I wasn’t flattered by their attention. I noticed a winding, cobblestoned passageway off the little street I was standing on. The alley was strewn with metal garbage cans, discarded cartons and drainage puddles. I could lose those creeps by taking that small alley to the next street. …Decision time. I darted to the right down the alleyway, trying to ignore the grimy visuals that felt like the perfect crime scene, and moved along hurriedly.
About a hundred yards in, a rumbling sound caught my attention and I looked over my shoulder. That same truck, barely fitting in the small alley, was still following me. I spun around looking for a doorstep to stand on to let it pass, but then stopped myself. What if they weren’t deliverymen? I didn’t want to take that risk. So when the distance between us narrowed with no let up, bad vibes got me moving faster.
I picked up my pace, approaching a bend in the alley. My ears caught the sound of the acceleration of that truck making its way closer and closer. I glanced back, but the tinted front windshield obscured their faces. Just as well. I didn’t need another reminder how creepy they looked. Now alarmed, I began grabbing at doorknobs. They were all locked! I didn’t have to look back again to know what the vibration under my feet told me. They were traveling faster than I was. My only ticket out was to get to a busy cross street. Now!
I began to run. I had to find a way out. My one advantage was their difficulty in maneuvering the old alley. My shoe caught and I fell to the cobblestones, but managed to scramble to my feet and took off again, deliberately pulling trashcans at random to at least slow them down.
It didn’t work. They were closing in on me.
Gulping air, my heart lurched. Up ahead was a wall blocking me. Can’t be! There had to be a way out. I turned back. It was just a matter of twenty yards and I’d be toast. Panic stricken, like a caged animal, I raced for the building anyway.
Gasping for air, about to give up, I looked to the left and caught sight of a small-tunneled archway, and beyond that, bright sunlight and people passing by, carrying shopping bags. A main shopping street!
I darted for it, and heard the truck screech to a halt, its doors opening and slamming shut behind me. Footsteps pounded on the cobblestones—nearing me.…
Without turning around, I flew into the crowds, dodged left, and then turned right, and kept going. The friendly crowds parted in front of me, and then closed behind me.
Flooded with relief, I finally slowed to a brisk, normal walk, although I was still gasping for air. I could see the wharf in the distance and wound my way through the crowds, dodging in and out, ecstatic to be free of the threat behind me, as I steadily widened the gap between us.
I refused to stop and rest until I physically saw the waterfront cafe ahead of me. Only then did I slow down so I wouldn’t draw attention to myself. I finally came to a stop when I reached the cafe, took a calming breath, and scanned the tables until my eyes latched onto those three friendly faces. I waved and opened my crumpled bag, calling out to them,
“Look! A French bikini!”
Like I said once before, in order to protect them, my lips were sealed …for now.
Chapter 43
Nudging Scenarios And Myself
It was pretty obvious I was now being put on notice about interfering in matters that were none of my business. Apparently, I was the one the strange men were focused on, not the others. That could only be because they thought I was onto something. They were not-so-subtly letting me know there was no place I could go now without risk.
Thoughts of something nastier happening didn’t sit well with me, but neither was dropping the matter. Now that I knew there was no way the truck’s presence was coincidental, and that whoever was inside knew what they were doing, I was at a bit of a crossroad.
I got the message.
But what should I do?
Here I was caught up in another tangle of events and passionate disputes. Why couldn’t I figure out who was telling the truth and who wasn’t, and the real reason behind the dead animals and their strange burials in the villa’s backyard? There were more connections out there I needed to find before it all escalated out of control and another death occurred, human (hopefully not my own) or other.
How did simple inquiries into the burial of animal bones morph into something embedded with layers of jealousy, revenge, lies and questionable secrecy? I didn’t understand the purpose of the burials in the first place.
Why go to all these lengths after the original discovery of some bones? As before, was I being led down a path certain individuals wanted me to travel because they were fearful to do it themselves?
I paused from typing on my laptop. The small truck that had pursued me in the alley was diesel. Could that be the same diesel truck Dominique saw across the street at Curat’s and the same engine Toussout heard?
Who was orchestrating all this? Or was there more than one individual involved? If I could carefully disentangle more, then maybe I might get to the real reason for the burials in the first place. Or were they merely a catalyst that set off something completely different, something far worse?
I wasn’t about to divulge anything about this since I didn’t want anyone to know what I did, or did not know, yet. I did feel strongly about one thing though. I was positive that everything was connected in some way, since I was now making someone very nervous and uneasy.
…Including me.
Chapter 44
Maxing Out In St. Maxine
I was outvoted, four to one. Lousy odds, if you ask me, and dicey. Martha was going to drive my car with Hazel and Betty, while I was to ride on the back of Crystal’s rented Harley. They all wanted to go over to St. Maxine for dinner, and wander throughout the old town to check out the vendors and shops, and, as usual, men.
Everyone thought it was a good idea for me to get out after being so hung up on what was going on. They said I needed a night out with the girls. Last time I did that was in Atlantic City. What could possibly go wrong this time?
As always, the trip itself was pretty direct. Crystal and I led the way on the Harley, the car close behind us. We took my street straight down to the Mediterranean; made a right turn onto the coast road and aimed for St. Maxine. It was about twenty minutes away, through Les Issambres and a few other small resorts, restaurants and commercial areas.
Even though the sun was setting behind the mountains, it still managed to throw off some light between the peaks to the water down below where sea foam splashed through the black rock formations jutting out here and there. As we cruised the shoreline road weaving in and out of the coves, beaches, and rock outcroppings, I shouted out landmarks to Crystal.
Boats, jet skis, bathers and yachts headed in for the evening, or for their dinner destinations, while a few cruise ships dotted the horizon either going to Nice, Cannes, or St. Tropez to anchor for a night of fun.
Clutching Crystal’s waist, we made it without incident and parked across the street by the marina in paid public parking. I had warned the others we were going in cold. In other words, we had no reservations at any particular restaurant, a sort of dangerous way to eat if you knew how busy St. Maxine got at night. It was a top tourist destination and the restaurants were overflowing with diners by the time we pulled in.
The ‘girls’ were more interested in dining outside, so we ended up at Café de France. It was next door to Le Wafou, a restaurant that had live music and a singer on the weekends with a lot of the music being American pop, rock, or oldies. Our spot was perfect, since we could listen from our table on the sidewalk. Perfectly located on the main coast road across from the marina, we could watch the beautiful people, cars, and motorcycles pass by all evening.
It was a warm, still evening, and we were into the moment and relaxed. Everyone unanimously voted the French Riviera was the perfect place for a reunion vacation spot, and I was asked to make a toast for organizing it.
I stood up and was about to open my mouth when I noticed a sudden shift in their body language. They sat up straighter, their eyes were focused on someone behind me.
Still a bit shaky from my encounter in the alley, I spun around to see who they were looking at. As I did so, I tripped slightly on the leg of my chair, and fell right into the arms of…
Chapter 45
Unpredictable Predicaments
Philippe!
Now, I could say, I was disappointed. I wasn’t. I could say I was annoyed. I wasn’t. I could also say, why me? I didn’t. I mean, after all, the guy seemed nothing short of unpredictable!
I liked that.
Elegantly, he set me firmly on my feet, and kissed my hand before letting me go.
I said, “…Uh, we…”
He finished for me. “…Meet again, cheri. It’s karma!”
“You can say that again,” Martha said from her chair.
Betty was busy checking him out from head to toe.
Crystal smirked. “How does this woman find them?”
Martha licked her lips. “I don’t know, but I want one.”
Turning to them, I found myself mouthing, “He’s hot!”
Confused, Hazel whispered, “What, he cooks, too?”
Crystal laughed, replying, “Looks like it from here!”
I turned back to him. Oh, I felt trouble brewing from the get go. I could feel it right where I stood. He was a problem just waiting to happen, but somehow I didn’t care. I had enough of living on the cautious side of nowhere.
Philippe smiled. “What do you say we go for a walk?”
The girls all stood up at the same time.
I stared them down. “I think he meant …with me.”
Getting it, they abruptly sat back down and started talking animatedly, as though I’d interrupted them in the middle of a vital board meeting.
“No, go right ahead,” said Martha waving me off.
Crystal poured more wine. “We’ve got plenty to keep us occupied, don’t we ladies?”
Betty nodded. “Go. We’ll see you at the car later, Sam.”
“What time is convenient for you two?” Hazel asked.
I turned to Philippe, my face wearing nothing but a question mark.
How could I pass up this opportunity?
He smiled slyly. “How about I take you home, cheri?”
I turned back to them. They all nodded in unison.
“Okay,” I said. He waved to the girls and turned to go.
They all gave me a thumbs up.
When we were out of earshot of the others, I planned on asking every question that popped into my head regarding Mademoiselle Forniet and the others. I was going to pluck this chicken clean for any kind of information I could get.
The others? I figured they were okay for the evening with me occupied elsewhere, which, when I thought back on it, might have been a mistake.
What was I thinking when I walked away from them, leaving them on their own? You would think I had learned from past experiences that when left unattended, they were completely unpredictable and mildly dangerous. Okay, let me correct that, completely dangerous.
Now, as far as how the rest of my evening went…
That’s for another chapter!
Chapter 46
Russian Roulette
“Hey, wake up, Sam.” Martha said impatiently, shaking me vigorously. “It’s past noon. You’ll never guess what happened. I can hardly believe it myself.”
I rubbed my eyes. “Believe what?”
“What happened last night, that’s what.”
Okay, she had me. I sat up. “What happened?”
Martha sat on the edge of my bed. “Well, we finished dinner, then visited some shops that were still open, but we still didn’t want to go home. I spotted a casino down the street from the parking lot. Crystal and I wanted to check it out.
Hazel and Betty were somewhat reluctant, but finally we talked them into it.”
I was hoping this wasn’t going south, but I braced myself for the worst.
“Tell me those two sweet old ladies didn’t lose much!”
Martha laughed. “Lose? Are you kidding me? Those old biddies won a ton of money.”
“How? They don’t gamble.”
“Well,” Martha said, laughing. “They do now.”
“Playing what?”
“Roulette!” She sat there silent for a second, thoughtful, then smiled. “I wonder if they could learn to count cards.”
I was still confused. “But they don’t know how to play poker, let alone play roulette.”
“Believe me, they learn real quick.”
“How much did they win?”
“Well, let’s put it this way: Enough to take us all to Cannes for dinner and fireworks at the Carlton sometime soon, which includes their several course dinner, while dining overlooking over the Mediterranean by moonlight.”
“The two of them are so ladylike and proper. But gambling? Where are they now?”
Martha snickered. “Right after their first win, they were hooked. Currently, they are sleeping it off after having had a few drinks to celebrate the occasion. We lost count.”
“Oh, my! Remember they didn’t fare too well the last time we all drank through my wine rack in Ocean City?”
Hearing our voices, Crystal appeared in the doorway. “Well, I have to admit, those two sure surprised me last night. They actually forced me to give them turns riding on the back of the Harley all the way home.”
“Exactly how much did they drink?”
They winked at each other and started laughing.
Crystal shook her head. “You really don’t want to know the bar tab they covered. Let’s just say that the two of them should be coming around sometime this afternoon.”
Martha laughed. “They surprised even me.”
Crystal, about to push off from the door to leave us, asked, “By the way, how did last night go with you, Sam?”
86 Avenue du Goulet (A Samantha Jamison Mystery Volume 3) Page 8