The Complete Maggie Newberry Provençal Mysteries 1-4
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“I suppose you think all this lock and key business is silly,” she said, not looking at him, hoping her words would get him talking about where they stood as a couple.
Laurent was drinking from a tall Starbucks coffee cup, his eyes scanning both sides of the river as if looking for someone. Maggie still couldn’t believe he was drinking a chain coffee but Laurent had merely shrugged and said: “If it is good coffee, why not?”
“No,” he said slowly, “just about as far from what is true about love as there is.”
Maggie was astonished. The very idea of Laurent making a proclamation about love, of all things, was unbelievable. She turned to give him her full attention.
“The idea that you can lock in love for two people,” he continued, “and then toss the key in a river to make it binding is beyond silly.” He looked at her and his expression was serious. “I think to love truly is to give the other the freedom to walk away.” He waved a hand at the bridge of glittering metal locks. “Not affix locks and keys to the love like a prison.” Maggie knew that Laurent had first-hand experience with the concept of being imprisoned.
“Is that why you were willing to let me go?”
“Of course. Regardless of what Jean-Luc says, I cannot force you to stay where you do not wish to be.”
“I talked to that girl in St-Buvard,” Maggie said suddenly, grateful for the drugs for helping her get the words out. “She answered your cellphone.”
“Qui? Suzie? She never mentioned that.” Laurent frowned. Either he was even cooler under pressure than even Laurent was famed for, Maggie thought, or he was not suffering from a guilty conscience.
“Did you sleep with her?”
He turned to look at her, and she could swear there was a hint of a smile tugging at his full lips.
“Would anyone have blamed me? My wife left me, you know.”
“Don’t tease me, Laurent. No one would have blamed you, least of all me. That’s why I’m asking.”
“Ach, Maggie,” he said putting his hand to her cheek. “Your husband does not stray even when his wife abandons him. Even when pretty hitchhikers attempt to climb into his bed.”
“I don’t want to know the details.
“Your husband does not stray,” he repeated softly, looking into her eyes. “Je promis.”
Maggie took in a full lungful of air and eased it out gently. Somehow, she had made it through the quagmire without having to endure and scale the incomprehensibly high barrier of an affair between them. Thank God for Laurent. She turned back to the river to steady her breathing.
“But no key in the Seine for us,” she said.
“While I am happy to do it if you wish it, I fear the weight of adding one more lock to this bridge may send the whole structure tumbling into the Seine.”
Maggie laughed. “It’s just symbolic, Laurent.”
“If you want a symbol,” he said, “why not give each other rings to symbolize a love with no beginning and no end? Oh, wait, we did that.”
She made a face. She deserved this. This and much more.
He directed his attention back to the river. “Do you ever wonder how many of the owners of these locks have divorced or broken up?”
“A lot, I suppose,” she said.
“This gesture of attaching locks to a public bridge is not a magic shield against failure, cherie. Instead of throwing a key in the river, why not just cross your fingers and hope very hard that your love lasts a lifetime?”
“I get it, Laurent. I do.”
They were silent a moment. Maggie was surprised she wasn’t cold. Laurent was serving as a large windbreak for her, protecting her against the worst of the frigid breezes that pummeled the little bridge.
“You still haven’t said why you came to Paris,” Maggie said. “Was it to bring me back?”
“No,” Laurent said and Maggie felt her heart sink. “I only came to Paris to be with you,” he said simply.
Maggie grasped at the hope that statement promised. “I can’t imagine Jean-Luc was too impressed with your coming after me,” she said.
“I do not take marriage advice from Jean-Luc.” Laurent frowned and glanced at Maggie as if not understanding how she could even think it. “But as it happens, he urged me to retrieve you weeks ago. Forcibly, if necessary.”
Maggie smiled at the thought of Laurent throwing her over his shoulder and whisking her back to St-Buvard to be with him there.
“It took me some time,” he admitted, “to see that he was at least half right.” Laurent looked down at Maggie and lifted her chin with his fingers so that she returned his gaze without wavering. “As long as you are unhappy, I cannot be happy, myself. Domaine St-Buvard is a small price to pay if it can bring us back together.”
“You would leave your vineyard?” Maggie was stunned and reached up for the hand that held her face.
“If it stands in the way of our being together,” he said, “I would put a match to it myself.”
“Laurent, I couldn’t be happy knowing you gave up the thing you loved to be with me.”
“You are the thing I love.”
Maggie forced herself to look away to hide the tears she couldn’t stop. After a moment, she cleared her throat and, fighting for mastery over her emotions, said, “You know, Laurent, I did find out one thing really important while I was here in Paris.” She looked up into his face, his cheeks rosy from the wind, his eyes dark and probing hers. “I found out my home isn’t in Atlanta after all, or anywhere else in the U.S. Turns out it’s where ever you are.”
Laurent smiled but said nothing. Maggie slipped her hand in his large, warm one and he pulled her close to him as they both looked out over the Seine.
“Take me home, Laurent,” she whispered to him. “Take me back to our home.”
Epilogue
“Maggie, you must come now! The soup is getting cold!”
“Just one more paragraph, Laurent! Can’t you find something else to do for the time it takes to write one little paragraph?”
He filled the doorway. “Your paragraphs are not little. Or was that just one of your amusing metaphors?”
“Go check on a vine or water something out in the field. I’m almost done.”
“It is dark out! I wouldn’t be able to see my hand in front of my face.”
“I just need to finish this. Five minutes. I’ll be right down.”
“D’accord. And then I will have you all to myself for the night, eh? Five minutes? Bon.” He pointed a large finger at her and turned and left. Maggie sat facing the doorway with her laptop.
“Boy, that’s a switch,” Grace said, her image appearing on the Skype screen on Maggie’s computer.
“I know, right?” Maggie laughed. “But I just want to finish my conversation with you.” Stan’s cat jumped up on Maggie’s desk and began cleaning himself.
“That is the ugliest cat I have ever seen.”
“Not surprisingly,” Maggie said, petting the cat “the ugly ones are the ones who need a home most.”
“I hope you’re not trying your sappy wisdom out on me, sweetie,” Grace said. “Because trust me, it works better in a novel. How is Petit-Four taking the new addition?”
Maggie glanced over at her poodle curled up on the bed. The dog’s head rested on her feet but her eyes followed the cat as it moved. “She’s secure in her place in the family,” she said.
“Yeah, right. So tell me again, please. I get why Ted pushed Stan. Spur of the moment rage and all that. But then he killed Genevieve too? And was winding up to toss you over the balcony as well? Seems like he was really banking pretty hard on the incompetence of the Paris police.”
“No, he was just starting to unravel by then,” Maggie said. “He wasn’t thinking clearly. Once he killed Stan, he really started to lose it bit by bit.”
“Murder will do that to you,” Grace said. “Or so I’m reliably told. I must say I’m a big believer in trying not to kill people who piss me off. What about Bijou? She st
ill in jail?”
“No, she’s out. But awaiting her trial so I’m not sure what will happen after that. I mean, the French are pretty understanding about crimes of passion but even they see a hit man as premeditated.”
“And dear Denny romps away scott free?”
“He didn’t do anything.”
“Except break into your apartment, throw a lamp at you, steal your laptop and, if Bijou is to be believed, plan to murder you and throw your body in the river.”
“He claims he knows nothing about any plan to kill me.”
“Well, he would say that, wouldn’t he?”
“The cops say he has no motive for wanting me dead.”
“But we know he does, right?”
“I’m not sure, Grace.” Maggie tried to pull the cat onto her lap but he hissed at her and jumped to the floor. “He had that whole Gumps embezzlement thing with Jeremy and Stan and Bijou. I mean, that was the reason he wanted into Stan’s laptop so bad. But it was really only Jeremy who saw killing me as some kind of answer.”
“Got any theories?”
“I think he was reacting to the fact that I was making it look like he was the culprit. He couldn’t bear people thinking that he killed Stan. Even if circumstantial evidence cleared him in an actual court of law, public opinion in the fashion world would have tried and convicted him. That’s my best guess. I think he really loved Stan.”
“If you say so.”
“The most important thing is that I’ve got closure,” Maggie said. “The police have their killer, and I have a new cousin and a new friend in Diane.”
“Not to mention a new cat.”
“Yeah, not to mention that.” Maggie turned away from the screen for a moment and yelled down the stairs. “Just five more minutes!” she called.
“I better let you go,” Grace said. “I don’t want to get on the wrong side of Laurent by keeping you. As far as that goes, how are things going with you two?”
“Good,” Maggie said. “With me writing and all, life just feels a lot more balanced. Did I tell you my agent got me a two-book contract off of my finished manuscript?”
“You did, but only the one time. I’m happy to hear about it as many times as you want to tell me.”
“It’s like you always said, Grace. I just needed something else in my life besides Laurent.”
“Yes, well, you’re going to have a big something else in your life in about four months and trust me, darling, you won’t get a lick of work done then.”
Maggie laughed and her hand dropped to the growing swell beneath her long tunic “Oh, yes, I will,” she said. “Laurent has promised he will be an enormous help when the baby comes.”
“That’s what they all say.”
“I’m not listening to your negative vibes,” Maggie said. “Laurent is different.”
“Well, that’s true,” Grace said. “If anyone is good with both babies and their mamas, it’s Laurent.”
“I’m not sure how to take that.”
“Take it and run, darling, as I must.” Maggie could hear screeching in the background on Grace’s end. “Give that big Frenchman a kiss for me. You told him I’m coming over for the birth?”
“I did. You better go, Grace. Sounds like someone’s being murdered over there on your end.”
“Oh, it’s nothing we veteran mothers can’t handle,” Grace said and laughed. “I cannot wait for you to join the ranks.”
“Me, too,” Maggie said. “Goodnight, Gracie.”
“’Nite, sweetie. You did good.”
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Thanks first to my five gracious and wonderful Beta readers: Linda Garland, Lara Jaskiewicz, Dana Gildersleeve, Sheila Gallagher and June Abner. You caught the biggies so I didn’t get caught with egg on my face and I am eternally grateful to you for taking the time to read and critique.
Thanks also to my darling husband, Del Kiernan-Lewis, who not only took me to Paris to augment my research for this book (and also to celebrate my birthday) but who then turned around and copyedited the manuscript for me. Definitely above and beyond.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Susan Kiernan-Lewis lives in Atlanta 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 any of the books in the Maggie Newberry Mystery series, please consider leaving a review saying so on Amazon.com, Barnesandnoble.com or Goodreads.com.
Follow Susan’s website at susankiernanlewis.com and feel free to contact her at sanmarcopress@me.com.
This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part, or stored in any type of retrieval system or transmitted in any way or by any means: electronic, mechanical, photocopying, or recording without permission of the publisher.
Copyright 2013 by San Marco Press. All rights reserved.
Published by San Marco Press Atlanta
Table of Contents
Book One, Murder on the Côte d’Azur
Book Two, Murder à la Carte
Book Three, Murder in Provence
Book Four, Murder in Paris
The Author
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Table of Contents
Book One, Murder on the Côte d’Azur
Book Two, Murder à la Carte
Book Three, Murder in Provence
Book Four, Murder in Paris
The Author
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue
Acknowledgements