“I ended up playing roulette myself. Russian roulette.”
Chapter 47
All Bets Are Off
Changing her mind about leaving, Crystal came back into the bedroom and sat on the other side of my bed. “And this is leading us where?”
Martha gave me that look. “You might as well tell us.”
I leaned back on my pillow. “I was planning on an evening of digging information out of Philippe, but it didn’t exactly go according to plan.”
Martha laughed. “How could the evening go south when Philippe doesn’t know your reputation for trouble?”
I groaned. “Yeah, well, he does now.”
“How is that?” Crystal asked.
“I was about to ask about his so-called relationship with Mademoiselle Forniet when he leaned into me intimately.”
Martha didn’t get it. “So, what’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing. I closed my eyes for what I thought was coming, and then I felt a tap on my shoulder.”
“What? Was he asking permission to kiss you?”
I laughed. No! “Now, guess who it was?”
They both asked simultaneously, “Who?”
I looked from one to the other. “You won’t guess.”
“Should we even try?”
“Not in a million years.”
“Then tell us!” Crystal demanded, impatiently.
“Clay,” I replied, my voice low and even.
After I set that name out there, there was silence. You see, Clay and I had a relationship well after Stephen died, but I just couldn’t make myself commit to anything permanent. I had to sort my life out first and decided that the couple thing should be set to the side, knowing we both had to figure out what each of us really wanted. Plus, I always felt he might not stay, anyway.
He had always warned me upfront that he was a restless spirit. I knew that going into our relationship. Looking back, I sometimes thought my decision to walk away from him might have been a preemptive strike from getting hurt in another relationship.
Maybe he felt the same way, because he took off for parts unknown once I voiced the slightest doubt about “us.”
So when I took off for Ocean City, New Jersey to write my next book, he had already taken off, who knows where? To tell you the truth, I sort of expected it, that’s why I left town, too. Neither one of us were ready to commit. Even so, this time apart gave me time to think that maybe we both made it too easy for each of us to opt out.
The minute I saw him last night I knew Martine had been working behind the scene, arranging this whole surprise, thinking she knew what was best for me. Maybe she did. I sure had been thinking a lot about him lately, mentioning him several times to her in private. She knew I’d be here tonight with the girls. And the old town isn’t that big, either. He’d have no problem finding me.
“…Talk about a game changer,” Martha finally said.
Crystal looked at me kind of skeptical about where this was going. “Now, what would he be doing here?”
“You know, I asked him that myself,” I said.
“Well, what did he say?” Martha asked eagerly.
“He leaned in close, edging Philippe away, whispering in my ear, ‘I came to take care of unfinished business’.”
Martha started fanning herself. “Whew! That’s hot!”
“I’d like to meet this stud muffin.” Crystal said.
“Hey, the two of us had no real commitment.”
“Running away solved nothing,” Martha pointed out.
“…Maybe I’ve reconsidered my priorities.”
Martha looked at me closely. “Does he know that?”
I shifted uncomfortably. “…Well, no, not really.”
“So you’re having second thoughts?” Crystal asked.
I shrugged, then smiled. “I guess I’ll just have to see.”
“Hey, why figure the whole thing out now?” Martha asked. “Why not let it play out and see where it all leads?”
“Look, if I drop Philippe cold, I’d get nowhere as far as learning something about Forniet. On the other hand, if I string him along, then it would further my investigation, but it might screw up any future possibilities with Clay.”
“Or it might prove more interesting,” Crystal said slyly.
I nodded, agreeing. “And it might be worth the gamble.”
Martha sat there, chuckling. “I’d say in your case, that as far as the two of them are concerned, all bets are off.”
What did I have to lose?
“Let the games begin!” I announced.
Now, what were the odds on me regretting those words?
But wait, I digress. Our conversation wasn’t over yet.
Chapter 48
A Ticking Time Bomb
I sat up. “Last night was like watching a ticking time bomb countdown between those two.”
“Sounds like a case study in testosterone!” surmised Martha. “Like two bucks marking their territory.”
Crystal was sipping some 1664 beer from a bottle with a slice of lime floating inside. She was never about the wine and couldn’t be bothered about vintages. Lately, I preferred life like that too. Straight up. It led to fewer complications.
…Depending on the circumstances, of course.
Crystal took another swig. “What happened after that?”
“Now, how can I explain this? It sort of got ugly.”
Martha knew that look. “What do you mean, sort of?”
“Mademoiselle Dominique Forniet showed up.”
“Hormones and testosterone!” Crystal laughed. “Great!”
“So, what are you going to do?” Martha asked.
I shook my head. “Wait, I haven’t finished.”
“You’re a magnet for trouble, you know that?”
“Sadly, yes.” I replied, still put out by what happened. “Dominique said she had enough with all the murders and wanted nothing more to do with me or the crazy neighbors. Then Clay turned to me and asked, ‘what murders’?”
“Well, all hell broke loose and the three of them went at it back and forth about the bones, the villa, and its saga of deaths. Before you knew it, the other two stomped off and I was informed by Clay that he was staying at Martine’s.”
I looked from Martha to Crystal for a response. They looked at each other and shook their heads, disbelieving.
Martha’s stare pinned me in place. “Now, why would Martine take in a stranger without asking any questions?”
I tried to avoid eye contact. “I may have mentioned his name once or twice to her since last year, via Skype.”
Crystal crossed her arms, saying, “You know, more trouble is brewing, both at this villa and next door.”
She didn’t have to remind me. “I saw it clearly when Philippe and Clay locked horns. On another matter, as far as the neighbors go, with one exception, Dominique has something in common with her so-called crazy neighbors.”
“What does she have in common?” Martha asked.
“An interesting past.”
“What’s the one exception?” demanded Crystal.
“You see, she’s now running the family business.”
Martha chuckled. “Just like a French family vineyard!”
I smiled. “I’d say drinks are in order. Friday night? I’ll explain her background to all of you then, okay?”
“You know, there’s a case study,” Martha added, “that said men gossip more than women. Hard to imagine.”
Crystal laughed. “I guess we have our work cut out for us, don’t we ladies. Well, Friday night it is.”
Oh, what mischief lurks in the heart of women!
Taken from Sam’s verse, thus concluding Chapter 48.
Chapter 49
Eavesdropping And Dropping In
If I were leaning any further over my terrace railing, I’d find myself in one of those garden beds down below. But I was hard-pressed to hear exactly what Martine, Jean and Clay were saying to each othe
r over there. It was early evening and they were having drinks. As far as I was concerned, there was way too much laughing going on for my comfort level, and I was skeptical about what was being tossed back and forth. Clay was dangerous. Period.
Let me explain another reason why I faltered before with Clay. In the last year, Clay and I ended up at odds with each other when I set out on my own to find out who killed my husband. But, when it was all over, I had second thoughts on a lot of things, including him. That is, after I discovered what really happened to Stephen. When it came right down to it, in the end, I honestly did, and did not, trust Clay or my feelings regarding that whole incident.
He was restless, sneaky, secretive and dangerous. …And that was my big problem. That was exactly what I found most intriguing about him, especially that last part with him always conveniently catching me off guard in the most ironic situations. I actually missed that.
Crazy, huh?
Unexpectedly, Martine looked over at my villa. “Sam!”
Caught dead in the water! Embarrassed, I waved back.
“Sam, where were you? I called earlier. Come over.”
I hesitated. Did I really want this? Yes and no. Sooner or later, I was going to have to suck it up and face him. Besides, I had to have some kind of control over what they were saying over there. It might be important. I knew from past experience Clay was a professional at weaseling info out of people without them even realizing it until it was too late.
I should know. I was one of them.
Pushing back from the railing, I was glad my crew was out for the evening in Les Issambres for dinner. I had begged off, knowing I wanted to catch what was going on next door. Clay was a new wrinkle in this garden saga.
I didn’t want him taking over and having the upper hand in finding out more information than I currently had at my disposal, which at the moment wasn’t much. I needed more and eagerly headed over to find out what I could.
By the time I walked out the front door, it was almost dark. So I figured I’d take the upper garden route and go through the gate over to Martine’s. That was my first mistake. The second?
Forgetting to expect the unexpected.
Chapter 50
Reconsidering Risky Routes
About a hundred feet into the gardens, I began to reconsider my brilliant move in taking that route. The paths at dusk felt like a warren of uncertainty. My memory of what had happened in the alley of St. Tropez still lingered eerily.
Evergreens cast dark shadows, as did the empty pedestals scattered about. My plan was to save time, but I found myself walking slower and slower, unsure of my footsteps, once I remembered the upright stones on the edges of the paths. Caution set in. Barely able to see my shoes as I made my way, I started sliding my feet to make sure I wouldn’t trip and injure myself.
I was halfway up when I heard it, a scraping sound up ahead, maybe about fifty yards. I quickly ducked behind an evergreen and waited. …I heard it again, voices in the garden up ahead. Not from Martine’s house, but from Curat’s garden, the site of all those buried bones. I took a chance and eased over to see what was going on. I saw a light flash briefly, and then …I fell face down in the dirt.
I had forgotten about the upright stones! Stupid! I quickly rolled over and scrambled behind the evergreen again, but it was too late. Whoever they were had heard me and took off, skirting the pool and jumping the upper gate. They were soon absorbed into the shadows of the park reserve.
I waited a moment and then heard a truck start up on the street and take off. I carefully felt my way along the stone path to where they were standing. In the last bit of evening light I saw their flashlight abandoned on the dirt.
I picked it up and aimed it down at the ground. My mouth dropped open. I was staring down at a freshly dug hole, the pile of dirt mounded at its edges. My stomach turned. At the bottom of the hole were animal bones.
I saw something shiny, some type of metal tag and reached into the hole to retrieve it, then stood and aimed the flashlight to get a better look to try to read what was engraved on it. It was a pet tag. The name jumped out at me. It said ‘Sneakers,’ the name of my cat back at home.
Someone screamed, and then everything went black.
Chapter 51
Rattling More Than My Bones
I moved away from the vile, bitter smell that seemed to choke me, shaking my head back and forth to distance it.
“Ah, she is awake!” said a male voice. I opened my eyes to see a concerned Jean leaning over me, right next to Martine, who was still holding the bottle of smelling salts.
“You put quite a scare into all of us,” she said, relieved.
Just then, Clay came into view behind them, saying, “I swear, trouble gravitates your way, no matter what.”
I sat up, ignoring his verbal jab. “What happened?”
Martine stroked my arm. “We heard a scream come from Curat’s garden. Clay jumped up, saying he recognized that scream and took off through our upper gardens. We quickly followed after grabbing Jean’s flashlight. When we got there, Clay was already at your side and had you in his arms, trying to pick you up.”
Jean added, “And he brought you back here. We were about to call our doctor when you came to.”
Remembering, I explained what happened up until it all went black. I extended my hand, which still held the pet tag, and then relaxed my grip showing them. “I never faint, but must have when I read this tag.”
Clay leaned in to see what I was holding, his eyes growing dark. “I don’t like this. Someone is intentionally playing a mind game with you in some sort of sick way. I don’t think you are taking things seriously enough. Why would you even walk through that dark garden alone like that? Sam, haven’t you learned anything from the past?”
Jean and Martine stared at each other, and then at me.
I sighed. “We have some history and some issues.”
Jean finally laughed. “So it seems.”
Martine added. “So I have heard.”
Clay turned to Martine. “Heard what?”
“I think,” she suggested, “you have to ask this one, who can’t seem to keep her nose out of irresistible mysteries.”
Before Clay could respond, I swung my legs to the floor from their sofa and stood up, shakily. “I think I’ve had enough excitement for one night, thank you.”
Seeing me wobble, Clay put a hand on my arm. “You should stay here and rest.”
“I’m okay.”
“Then I’m walking you home.”
I knew that look and readily agreed. “Okay.”
I hugged Martine and Jean, assuring them that I would follow up with them and that I had found out something and want to confirm my suspicions before I told them yet and would call them tomorrow. “I promise.”
Once outside, I made for Martine’s back patio.
“And where do you think you are going?” Clay asked.
I flicked him a look, heading for the back gate. “Home.”
Clay pointed. “The street is that way.”
I shook my head. “No can do. I want another look. Come with me, Clay. Trust me on this. Please.”
“Let’s wait till the morning. I’m worried about you.”
“No, I need to check something tonight.”
He sighed, shrugged, flicked on the flashlight, and handed it to me. “I’ve got your back. …You can lead.”
I nodded and walked toward Martine’s apricot groves.
Then from behind me came the words “…For now.”
Chapter 52
Getting Back To What?
The infamous flashlight led the way, as we made the slow walk back toward Curat’s villa. Having Clay right next door was both a negative and a plus. The negative, being he could keep an eye on me. The plus, being I could keep an eye on him. Perfect.
I heard a muffled chuckle. “Carrying you back to Martine’s was tricky. Have you gained a pound or two?”
I whipped around. “What k
ind of crack is that?”
He held his hands up. “Whoa, little touchy aren’t we?”
“Where you’re concerned, yes. I’m never sure what’s going to come out of your mouth next. Like I’ve said many times before, predictability is not your best quality.”
He smirked. “Now, you’re treading on shaky ground. I would think that describes you exactly, don’t you?”
He always seemed to push the buttons that hit their mark. “I learned from the master of evasion, remember?”
“Ouch! Now you’re getting personal.”
“Been there, seen it, done it. Now, let’s give it a rest, okay?” I turned and kept on walking.
After a minute, I heard a laugh. “…Okay, for now.”
We worked our way back to the area where the hole was dug. I stooped down and flashed the light on the bones. Clay joined me on the opposite side. Both of us just stared down at the bottom of the hole.
Clay broke the silence. “Odd. Bare bones, picked clean. And we both know they’re not really Sneakers’ bones after checking with Barbara and Jack back home. He’s fine.”
I looked up at him. “Yeah, I knew it couldn’t be possible, but I guess the visuals must have rattled me.”
He shook his head. “Martine and Jean explained what happened. Whole thing feels wrong. Doesn’t ring true.”
“I know. I feel the same way. Something is going on here that doesn’t add up. Going to all this trouble to bury people’s pets’ bones here is both sick and symbolic, but I can’t figure out why someone would go to all this trouble. There has to be some link involving all of the neighbors. It’s frustrating.”
Clay took the tag from my hand, examining it. “Well, obviously, they know a little about you and how to push your buttons and are playing with your brain.” He stared at me. “…What else haven’t you told Martine and Jean?”
He knew me well, too well. I relented. I needed another set of eyes on this. “Come on down to the villa. We’ll have a drink and I’ll explain what I’ve found out so far.”
86 Avenue du Goulet (A Samantha Jamison Mystery Volume 3) Page 9