Where Secrets Reside

by Susan Finlay

  “Madame Martin, isn’t it?” he said. “Nice to see you, again.”

  “Uh, yes. How is your visit to Reynier going?”

  He put his hands in his pockets, and Maurelle could hear keys clinking together. “A bit more exciting than I expected, to be honest.” He shook his head and rubbed a hand across his mouth. “Do you know, when Paul told me about Reynier, I must say I had my doubts about it—for opening an antiques shop, I mean. Don’t get me wrong. I have nothing against small villages. Reynier is a marvelous town, very picturesque. But most can’t support a store with their meager population and most don’t bring in enough tourists.”

  Maurelle nodded.

  He glanced up the road a moment, then said, “But I think I may be wrong in this case. Perhaps with all the publicity and people coming to see the caves because of the murders, Reynier’s tourism business will pick up, yes? That’s a good thing for business.”

  Maurelle bit her lip. She wished he hadn’t brought up the murders.

  “Well, perhaps. I wish you good luck, Monsieur.”

  René didn’t answer. He gave her an odd look.

  “Have you ever been to Paris, Madame Martin?”

  She nodded.

  It’s where I met Paul,” René said. “He was young and unworldly back then. He probably thought Paris overwhelming. It’s a beautiful place, full of history and culture but also much crime.” He stopped and appeared to be studying Maurelle. “I didn’t expect that here—the crime, I mean. I guess it’s not surprising, really, that something like that is happening here. I’ve seen quite a lot of attractive young women like yourself and like those women who were killed. It all comes down to sex, I think. It’s easy for a man to be overcome, the way women act nowadays . . . but then women have always been that way.”

  Maurelle didn’t know how to respond and suddenly felt much more nervous. For the first time, she felt something oddly familiar about him, but she couldn’t quite put a finger on it.

  He pursed his lips as if he were trying to decide whether to say something more. “It’s none of my business, and I wouldn’t normally say anything, but I’m concerned for you. Your husband has been looking for you. He came to Chateau de Reynier and questioned Madame Wickliff. He practically accused her of hiding you. She was quite indignant. If her husband hadn’t stepped in, I think she might have called the gendarmes on him. Of course, she’s a strange one. I’m never really sure what to make of some of her comments.”

  “I didn’t know you were staying in the chateau. I thought you would stay at Paul’s house.”

  The noise from his keys began again. “Oh, well, we aren’t really close friends. We have more of a business relationship.”

  “He speaks highly of you. I guess I just assumed—“

  “I hope you’ll keep safe. Go back to that husband of yours. You shouldn’t be roaming the streets alone. It’s not safe.”

  “Thank you for your concern, Monsieur Lamont.”

  “Yes, I suppose I should go,” René said. “I’m meeting Aimee Augustin this afternoon. She wants me to see a shop here in Belvidere since I’ve told her I’m not eager to rent the empty shop she showed me across from the bookshop in Reynier. Though, on second thought, it could present an attraction, being that it’s across the street from a murder scene. Some people are stimulated by the macabre.”

  Maurelle shivered.

  “Oh, sorry. I forgot you work there. Have you been back to the shop since, well, you know?”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “Jeannette and Paul say they won’t go in there again. Poor man. Bad enough losing Gaby that way. And now Felicia. Well, I should be going. Don’t let that husband of yours wait too long.”

  After he left, Maurelle stood there staring after him. She had planned to go directly to the Gendarmerie, but now she wasn’t sure. She’d let her anger with Dave blind her better judgment. Couldn’t she let it go and find a way to talk to him? He hadn’t lied to her to hurt her. He was a good man and a good husband. She heard a car engine and looked up in time to see a Gendarmerie van turn the corner. It must be going toward the Gendarmerie. Without really thinking, she turned around and went back to the old chateau. She would take the long route back to Reynier. By the time she arrived there, she hoped she would have the nerve to face her husband and reconcile their problem. If not, there was always a friend, like Coralie or Fabienne, she might stay with overnight.

  IN THE LATE afternoon, after again searching for Maurelle, Dave Martin drove to Belvidere to pick up his parents at the train station. They’d taken the TGV from the airport in Paris. He pulled into the parking lot and spotted his parents standing outside, waiting for him.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Dave said, as he hugged his mother and then his father.

  “Where is your wife?” Dave’s mother Eloise immediately asked.

  He glanced at his father and shook his head to signal that Maurelle still hadn’t come home.

  Edward cleared his throat and said, “We need to tell you something, my dear. But let’s wait until we’re in the car. Can you help me with these bags, son?”

  Dave took the two largest suitcases and carried them to the trunk of his tiny car, hoping the luggage would fit. After a couple of unsuccessful attempts, he made one more attempt and finally squeezed the two bags in. He took his mother’s carry-on bag and was able to stuff it in the only empty spot.

  “Where are you going to put our other suitcases?” Eloise asked, pointing to two more bags sitting along the edge of the building.

  Dave balked. “How long are you staying, Mother? It looks like you brought enough stuff for a whole month.”

  “It’s an open-ended visit. We might travel around Europe for a while if we get bored here.”

  Edward said, “We can put these two bags in the backseat with you, dear. Good thing you aren’t large, or we might have to leave you behind.” He chuckled, winking at his son.

  She gave him an irritated look and Dave held his breath. Five years ago his mother had been fifty pounds heavier. She’d dieted off and on her whole life, but it was a heart attack that had pushed her into a life-altering program of diet and exercise. After losing all that excess weight, she’d vowed she would never be overweight again and suffer the humiliation that obese people suffer.

  Eloise finally said, “I think we will need to rent a larger car when we’re ready to travel because I plan to do some shopping.” Edward groaned. Once they were settled into the car, she continued, “Dave, you look ridiculous with your body scrunched up in this little car. Really, why didn’t you buy something that fits you better? I know gas prices are higher here than in the U.S., but you’re doing well financially, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I’m doing fine. I bought this car from a friend. It does what I need it to do and it’s easy to park. Have you forgotten how few parking spaces there are in Reynier and how narrow the streets are in these small villages?”

  “Well, yes, I suppose I did forget. I have to admit I’ve missed the French countryside. It’s nice to be here again. Has Reynier changed much?”

  “Hmm. Oh, no, not much. A few shops have gone away or changed ownership, but it’s pretty much the same. Oh, that reminds me. Did you know that Jeannette’s granddaughter is running Grand-mère’s café?”

  “No, how would I know that? You never mentioned it before.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t think you wanted to hear about events here, and you never asked.”

  “Speaking of what’s happening here, did you and Maurelle split up?”

  Dave wasn’t sure how to answer. “Dad told you about the murder investigation in Reynier, didn’t he?” He glanced in the rearview mirror at his mother. She nodded. “Well, Maurelle and I, along with numerous other people, are suspects. It’s complicated. I’m sure you’ll hear all about it. Needless to say, we’re all under a lot of stress. Maurelle and I had a little spat. She hasn’t pack up her belongings or anything, but she left the house. That was yesterday afternoon. I e
xpected she would have been home by nightfall. Problem is no one has seen her or heard from her since.”

  “Oh my God. Do you think this killer—“

  Dave looked at her face in the rearview mirror and they locked eyes. She looked genuinely concerned and suddenly he felt a great warmth and love for her. “Mom, I don’t know what to think. I’ve looked everywhere. I’ve been on pins-and-needles, half-expecting to hear about another body. But I don’t know whether to go to the gendarmes. It’s really complicated. If I go to them, I possibly could get her or myself into more trouble.”

  “How long has she been gone?” Edward asked in a calming voice.

  Dave glanced at the car’s clock. “I’m not sure. I guess it’s been about twenty-nine hours or so.”

  Edward said, “I think you and I should go to the Gendarmerie together.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “WHAT IS WRONG with you?” Simone whispered to Alain. They were standing near the stove behind the service counter and halfway hidden in one corner of Café Charbonneau. She was trying not to let customers hear her. The dining room was filled with people, most of whom were chatting, or more precisely gossiping, but she knew some of the regulars, with their bat-like hearing, would have their receivers zeroed-in on her.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Alain said.

  “You’ve been jumpy and you seem distracted.”

  “What do you expect? Felicia was murdered in my bookshop. Wouldn’t you be jumpy and distracted if someone was murdered in here?” He waved his arms indicating the café.

  She glanced over her shoulder to see if anyone was watching. Aimee Augustin, busybody that she was, had her full attention focused on them. Simone tugged on Alain’s sleeve and pulled him behind a large artificial potted tree to afford more privacy. “Well, I suppose I would,” she said. “But you started acting weird before that happened.”

  “No I didn’t.”

  Simone sighed and shook her head. Sometimes he could be so annoying. Taking a different tact, she said, “You still haven’t told me what happened when the gendarmes took you to Belvidere for questioning. It’s like you’ve shut me out. The only thing I’ve heard about your interview is from the gossip mill, and I don’t know what’s true and what’s not.”

  “I’ve done no such thing. You’re letting your imagination go. Drop it, okay?”

  “You’re as jumpy and irritable as Maurelle. She snapped at me, too. Do you two know something about Felicia’s murder?”

  “Maurelle is a suspect. Maybe I am, too. I don’t know. She and I both had access to the bookshop. You’d snap at people too if you were being watched by the gendarmes like a damned criminal.”

  “Well, why isn’t Isabelle acting weird? She works in the store. She found the body.”

  Alain glared at Simone, shook his head, then walked away and poured two cups of coffee. She watched him carry them to a customer’s table. The café wasn’t normally open for dinner, but she’d started keeping it open later because of all the activity in town. What really surprised her was that some people still ordered breakfast meals late in the day.

  He came back and whispered, “Maybe it didn’t spook her because maybe she killed Felicia. Did you think of that possibility?”

  Gritting her teeth, Simone gave up and turned back to the stove, devoting her attention to cooking, cracking six eggs on the edge of a bowl so hard she ended up with pieces of eggshell in the bowl and had to fish them out with a spoon. Once the omelets were cooking, she turned back around.

  Meanwhile, Jacques Henriot and Maurice Raine were sitting at a booth, gossiping about Jonas. Did they realize how loud they were talking? According to them, several days ago, neither could remember which day it was, while sitting in their usual spots outside the general store, they’d overheard Felicia telling her friend, Juliette Emery, that she was pregnant and wanted Jonas to divorce Lillian. Simone wasn’t really surprised. She’d suspected they were having an affair for some time now—ever since Felicia and Paul had broken up. Simone didn’t know how Paul felt about it since he rarely discussed his feelings.

  Near the window, Paul was sitting across the table from their grandmother. Jeannette and Fabienne usually ate together if they went out, but her friend hadn’t come in. Although Simone couldn’t hear what Jeannette was saying, she could see her grandmother wagging her finger at Paul. She wondered what that was about because Grand-mère usually coddled her grandson and saved finger wagging for Simone.

  Claude Rousseau, the village’s mayor, suddenly jumped up and yelled, “Look out!”

  Simone stared at him, uncomprehending, until he rushed toward her, waving his arms. She turned around. Smoke was billowing around the stove. Rushing over, she grabbed the fire extinguished from underneath the counter and sprayed foam on top of the burnt omelets.

  MAURELLE WALKED DOWNHILL from the highest level of Reynier on the unpaved portion of rue Corneille. Rue Corneille was actually the village’s main street at the lower end of town, where the street ran parallel to the river. But it turned and sloped upward, intersecting with rue de Rennes at the second tier of the hillside. Café Charbonneau and the town hall sat across the street from each other at that intersection. Rue Corneille’s pavement ended at the intersection, but the road continued unpaved, straight up the hill. Fabienne’s house was located on rue de Rennes, past the café, the chateau, the vacant store, and the bookshop.

  Maurelle, however, wasn’t going to any of those places. She was going home, and the trail to get there was up the hill from the café on Rue Corneille. As she got closer, she could see the small car park behind the café. To her amazement, Dave was there, standing near their car along with two other people, a man and a woman. She slowed her pace, careful not to kick the rocks in the road and attract attention. Dave went to the boot of the car, opened it, and began taking out suitcases.

  What the—

  Wondering who they were, she edged closer, though being careful, she ducked behind a tree at the side of the street to avoid being seen. Both of the strangers had their backs turned to her at first, but in a few moments the man turned slightly and followed Dave to the boot, still not giving her a good look at him. The man reached in, pulled out a large suitcase, and set it down. Then he turned toward her and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. It was Dave’s father. Maurelle recognized him from photos Dave had shown her. He looked like an older version of Dave but with graying hair. The woman, then, Maurelle assumed, must be Dave’s mother. They began walking toward the trail, and they were soon out of sight.

  Maurelle took a deep breath and let it out as she turned around and leaned back against the tree. Now what should she do? She couldn’t go home and expect to talk to Dave about what happened in England. Not with his parents there.

  She needed to talk to him, but she couldn’t imagine a worse time to try to do it. She closed her eyes and fought back tears for the second time today. Defeated, she decided that tomorrow morning might be better, after his parents were settled in. Having decided that, she now needed to decide where to stay tonight. The logical choice would be Fabienne’s house, or perhaps Coralie’s. Coralie’s was probably safer from the standpoint that Dave was unlikely to show up there tonight with his parents. Or would he? Coralie and Eloise had been childhood friends, and they were still on speaking terms.

  On second thought, maybe she should go to Fabienne’s, especially since she might need someone to talk to when she found out that Eloise and Edward were in town. Staying hidden until Dave and parents were out of sight on the path to their house, she exited her hiding place and trudged down the rest of the gravel road, then turned onto rue de Rennes.

  “OH, MA P’TITE, you’re safe,” Fabienne said, as she practically smothered Maurelle in a big embrace. “Where have you been? What’s happened?”

  “It’s a long story. I spent the night in a hotel in Belvidere. I’m sorry I worried you.”

  “That’s all right. You’re safe. Come sit.
Are you hungry? Let’s go into the kitchen. You can sit at the table while I fix something to eat.”

  Maurelle gratefully followed her, realizing how very hungry she’d become. And very tired.

  “Have you seen Dave?” Fabienne asked. “Does he know you’re back?”

  “No. I need to talk to him and was going to go home, but something came up and I decided to wait until morning. Could I stay here tonight?”

  “Of course you can.”

  “Can I help with anything?” Maurelle asked.

  “Not necessary. I was already preparing salad, and I’m heating up leftovers from yesterday’s dinner. You know how I don’t like to waste food and I always cook way too much for one person. It’s a hard habit to break.”

  Maurelle smiled. Fabienne would cook for a whole army every day and would love it. Cooking was her gift and her passion.

  Fabienne brought dinner to the table and they sat together, eating in silence, but for Maurelle it was a soothing kind of silence, restful and comforting. That was one of the things Maurelle loved about Fabienne. She knew the older woman was curious and wanted to know what was going on with her, but she wouldn’t pressure her to talk. In a way, though, that made it hard to keep secrets from her. Maurelle debated whether she should tell Fabienne about Dave’s parents or whether she should wait and let Fabienne hear from Dave that his parents were in Reynier. She would wait until she’d rested, and see how the evening played out.

  RENÉ WALKED INTO Chateau de Reynier’s dining room and sat down at his usual spot at the long table with its embroidered linen tablecloth, the type he imagined his grandparents might have draped over their dining table, if he had grandparents. Of course he recognized he must have had grandparents, somewhere, but he’d never met them. He could only create a fantasy of what they would have been like. Had they lived in a beautiful chateau such as this one, surrounded by luxury, or had they been farmers or peasants, or maybe miners in caves like the ones here in Reynier? He liked to imagine them living in this place.