86 Avenue du Goulet (A Samantha Jamison Mystery Volume 3)

by Peggy A. Edelheit

  He laughed. “Hey, does this mean you trust me now?”

  “You should be so lucky,” I said, standing up. “Watch your step, the path is dangerous if you’re not careful. I’ll explain that, too. There’s more here than meets the eye.”

  Clay smiled. “That’s what I’ve been saying about me.”

  Oh brother! Was this guy persistent or what? I loved it.

  Chapter 53

  Gaining Perspective

  Later, I explained to Clay most of what I knew. Notice my emphasis on most. I’ve learned in the past, it’s always wise not to give away the store all at once.

  I refilled our glasses. “So you see, I’m currently at a stalemate. I’ve somehow stumbled onto something more than I’d bargained for. The neighbors each have their own agenda, but someone else on the outside has one as well and that agenda might not enhance my knowledge.”

  “That’s a clear possibility, but it sounds bizarre that a bunch of old people and a young girl would be victims of such a cruel gesture.”

  “I agree. On the other hand, I doubt that anyone would kill their own pet to make a point, or to appear as a victim. What would their point be?”

  “Some murders defy logic,” said Clay.

  I sat forward. “Perhaps someone is using these deaths as a distraction. Maybe they’re looking for a chance to accomplish what they set out to do before I arrived, and to silence anyone who may have seen it. Maybe the stakes are higher than we think.”

  We looked at each other, both of us thinking the same thing at the same time.

  He suddenly smiled, “…Which only goes to prove…”

  “…That the perpetrator isn’t sure who saw what and sent threatening notes to them all,” I said.

  “They hit everyone’s pet to insure complete silence and threatened worse if anyone talked.”

  “That makes so much sense! I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before.”

  “You needed me, obviously.”

  “I would have figured it out eventually.”

  “I’m sure you would have.” His look was warm. “Let me speak to Jean. He might remember anything unusual that he saw or heard that didn’t seem important at the time, but might prove helpful, now.”

  I nodded. “Meanwhile, I can take another crack at the three neighbors and see what I come up with. There has to be something out there I can wedge loose.”

  Clay grinned. “You see? We can work together.”

  “You think so?”

  “Sure. The trick is getting you to trust me enough to let your guard down.”

  “I’m never letting my guard down again, especially with you. You lean towards shifty and shady.”

  Clay gave me an evil grin. “And I’m guessing that’s why I intrigue you so much, am I right?”

  “Up to a point.”

  Like I said, keep them guessing.

  “Where do I play in all this?” he asked.

  I wasn’t sure for a moment what he was referring to, but by the gleam in his eye I realized and saw his confusion.

  “Watch your step, Clay,” I said. “One move in the wrong direction, and you’re thrown out of the game.”

  “Trust me, this is not game, for me or the killer.”

  I smiled. “I know. I personally take risks seriously.”

  “Good! Now, all you have to do is take me seriously.”

  I laughed. “How can I, when you don’t yourself?”

  Chapter 54

  Tracking The Truth

  I was about to walk over unannounced to the Toussout residence when in charged Martha, Hazel and Betty. I stepped away from the door as it swung open, surprised they were back so soon from the market in Fréjus. They didn’t see me.

  Betty shook her head. “Well, I have seen it all, now.”

  “Disappointed is an understatement,” griped Hazel.

  Martha came in last. “He sure hotfooted, lickety-split.”

  I rubbed my forehead. I could see this was definitely a sit down. “Okay, what is going on?” I asked, stepping out from behind the door.

  Shocked to see me, Martha veered toward the kitchen, saying, “I’m thirstier than a jack rabbit in a desert.”

  I whirled around to the other two, who were nowhere in sight. I turned back to the kitchen. They were already there getting glasses out. How’d they do that? I had a sneaky feeling about this. “Okay, what’s up?”

  Martha’s whole demeanor changed. “Nothing, why?”

  Silent, Hazel and Betty smiled blandly, drinking water simultaneously.

  Their behavior sure seemed suspicious.

  “Okay, what happened?” I asked, standing directly in front of Martha, blocking her.

  “Hey, I’m sure it was just like they said.”

  I wasn’t catching on. “Like who said?”

  “Clay and that tart across the street.”

  Hazel saw the look on my face and stepped between us.

  “Why, that pretty, young lady who lives across the way,” she said pointing to Forniet’s house.

  I opened my mouth, but then shut it, damage control.

  Betty patted me on the shoulder. “Now, it’s probably like Clay said, they met accidentally at the market.”

  Martha shot Hazel a look. “They sure were jawing it up for being complete strangers and when…”

  Hazel cut in. “Sam, you know how friendly Clay is.”

  I realized then what they weren’t saying. So? After all, he meant nothing to me, absolutely nothing, a thing of the distant past.

  Okay, not so distant.

  “…What did he have to say?” I grudgingly asked.

  “Well, he seemed surprised to see us at that market, being it’s much further away than the local market. When he introduced Dominique, she gave us the once-over like we were invading her space. Talk about territorial!”

  Betty lifted my tightly gripped hand from the chair. “My dear, relax, nothing to worry over. They were just having a conversation. Right, Hazel?”

  Hazel smiled at me. “What does she have you don’t?”

  I separated my teeth from my tongue. “Who cares? He’s in France. She’s French. And I’m not interested.”

  They regarded me in silence, skeptical, already knowing I was dying to know more about her and what was really going on.

  Martha said, “We also heard her mention to Clay she’s going to that Italian place over in St. Raphaël tonight.”

  That did it.

  They all waited and I fell into their trap.

  “…Hey, isn’t this pizza night? My treat!”

  Chapter 55

  In Hot Pursuit

  “Stop leaning. I can’t see a thing,” Betty complained.

  Martha hissed, “I should’ve brought my binoculars.”

  “Oh, that’s rich,” laughed Hazel. “Talk about subtle.”

  My eyes were glued to our suspect in question. How she hadn’t seen us was a miracle with all the commotion playing out in front of me. I rubbed my temples. This was not the time for a stress headache, although this sure qualified as a trigger for one.

  “This stakeout was a mistake,” I finally said.

  Betty turned to me. “Relax. Clay’s no where in sight.”

  Martha glared. “Hey, she’s not going to hold a sign out like drivers do in an airport. Maybe he’ll still show up.”

  Hazel looked at her. “I bet you ten to one against it.”

  Martha laughed. “You’re on! The night’s still young.”

  God help me. This trip has already corrupted them.

  “Well, I’ll be!” Martha announced, surprised.

  We all perked up. Philippe sauntered up to Dominique’s table. He leaned in to speak to her, then they both stood up and started walking down the sidewalk away from us, leaving her freshly served pizza behind, untouched.

  “Quick!” ordered Martha. “Let’s go and follow them.”

  “What a waste of the pizza,” Betty said, eyeing it.

  “I don�
�t feel right about this,” I said, dying to know where they were headed, but I wasn’t traveling light, remember? Geriatric crew.

  Betty turned to me. “Are you kidding? Let’s go.”

  Hazel eyed Martha. “Pay up, Miss, then we’ll tail them.”

  I gave in. “It sure might prove interesting.”

  Three turns later, up the hill, we fell behind. Annoyed at possibly losing them in the crowds, we took to the street. Hearing an engine, I sidestepped to let a motorcycle pass, and then turned when it pulled up beside me.

  “What’s happening?”

  “…Crystal? What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve been trying to catch up for three blocks, but the traffic is hell. Pizza night, remember? What’s the rush?”

  Hazel leaned in conspiratorially. “We’re in hot pursuit!”

  “Of who?” Crystal asked, now interested.

  Martha laughed. “Don Juan and Jezebel, that’s who!”

  Crystal grinned. “I’ve been around you guys too long because I know just who you’re talking about. It’s scary.”

  Betty gave her a quick rundown of the market, pizza, and Philippe showing up and leading them up the hill.

  Hazel whipped around. “Hey, they’re way up there.”

  Martha stomped the ground. “And making a turn.”

  “Sam, get on,” Crystal ordered. “I’ll weave in and out.”

  I tossed Martha my car keys. “You know what to do.”

  She nodded. “I know the way. Be careful you two.”

  Betty grabbed my arm. “Pictures. Use your iPhone.”

  Hazel stepped in. “Become one with the background.”

  Martha turned to her. “What are you now, Yoda?”

  As we took off up the hill, I turned back to the trio.

  Was I leaving trouble, or heading toward it?

  Chapter 56

  Some Slick Surreptitious Surveillance

  I don’t know how one in hot pursuit is supposed to remain inconspicuous, especially on a loud Harley, but we were definitely trying our best. Crystal knew exactly how far to stay back and blend in with traffic. Thankfully, St. Raphaël was a magnet for motorcycles of all kinds.

  I could understand why those two were walking, because parking was at a premium. There wasn’t an open space for a mile or so with the town so jammed. Two cruise ships were docked in the harbor, too. Our main problem was keeping an eye on our two suspects on the crowded sidewalk.

  Finally, they stopped and slipped into an old building.

  Crystal snuck in between two cars and we hustled over to the nameless, numbered doorway. She tried the handle and it gave, so we stuck our heads in and found ourselves facing a lone stairway going up. We looked at each other and nodded, and then stepped inside and shut the door, all the while listening for anyone coming down the stairs.

  The musty hallway was an immediate turnoff. Crystal motioned and we sprinted up to the second floor. After we reached the top and rounded the corner, we heard voices coming toward us. Panicked, we both looked for an unlocked door, already knowing we wouldn’t make it down the long stairway and outside without being spotted.

  Crystal grabbed one door and shook her head. I grabbed another and it gave. I motioned for her to come over. The voices were almost upon us as I opened it. Crystal roughly shoved me forward, barely closing the door in time. We fell in a heap, her landing on top, the wind knocked out of both of us. As we blindly felt around in the dark, our fingers latched onto something sticky. Was this a janitor’s closet?

  I dry heaved. It smelled awful. What the hell was it? A horrible thought hit. Dried urine? I gagged. I wanted out!

  We heard a click.

  No, they couldn’t have.

  The voices passed, and sure enough, one was definitely Philippe’s, but he was speaking rapid French and it was difficult to understand.

  “Shhhh!” Crystal whispered.

  They descended the stairs, and then a door slammed.

  Crystal turned the doorknob. “...Hey, what’s going on?”

  I was antsy to get out. “What’s wrong? Hurry up!”

  “The damn thing is locked!”

  “What? Can’t be! Try again! Who locked it?”

  Crystal gave it another try. “No go!”

  I guess they could have.

  “Remember that click? I bet they locked us in.”

  “Now why would they do that?” she asked. “We already knew where they were going anyway.”

  “Maybe they were meeting someone and saw us tail them and set the meet up for somewhere else, instead.”

  Crystal sighed. “Do you always think so weirdly?”

  “I’m afraid so. I scare myself sometimes.”

  Then we heard another click. Crystal tried the doorknob and pushed the door hard.

  Chapter 57

  Present Company Accepted?

  We were both leaning against the door, anxious to get out, and when it opened we awkwardly fell to the hallway floor, gulping fresher air. We didn’t dare look down at our hands, but quickly spotted a water fountain and made for a dash for it, washing our hands, trying to push back the nausea and vivid imagination at what had been in that closet with us. We were still scrubbing away the imagined visuals when a voice approached.

  “Concerned for your safety, I followed you. This time, I guess, I rescued two damsels in distress.”

  We turned. There stood Clay, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

  “You know what you can do with that grin of yours?” I asked sarcastically, mildly jealous of his intuitive skills.

  “Hey, I could’ve left you two in the closet, you know.”

  “At least the company was more interesting.” I guess I sounded a bit petulant, but darn it, I didn’t like needing him.

  Crystal moved in between us, turning to me. “…Sam?”

  I relented. “…Okay, we’re out. Good going, Clay.”

  He looked around, and as usual, ignored my retort. “Let’s see what’s down the hall. Maybe we can see a name or something on a door. This place isn’t that big.”

  Crystal finished rinsing and we followed him down the hallway. Only two other doors remained, as we rounded another corner. Clay stopped. “They must have entered one of these. Let’s see…”

  I stepped in front of him. “Entreprises du Placard.” Then I moved to the other. “Vichy S. A.”

  He was already tapping in the letters on his iPhone. I was taking a picture of both with mine.

  Crystal peered through the glass walls of each office.

  “Hey, you guys. They’re both vacant. Nothing in there.”

  Clay and I both peeked inside too and slumped in disappointment.

  I turned to Crystal and Clay. “Well, all that for nothing.”

  Clay moved closer. “Not necessarily. We can still look up these companies and research them. And you, Sam, have three very willing research assistants waiting at home for you to just give the word.”

  Encouraged, I saw the possibilities, my indignation and disappointment temporarily set aside. “And you’re going to talk to Jean and I’ll interview the neighbors once more.”

  “And I,” Crystal added, “have a date with another Harley aficionado I met at Prestige Motors, who happens to be, drum roll please, the head administrator of Mairie, Les Issambres. He handles all the town records.”

  Clay and I looked at her, impressed.

  “I don’t know how you did it, and I don’t care,” I said.

  Clay laughed. “That’s not important, just the access.”

  “After a few beers,” Crystal said, “I’ll inquire about who really owns that house of red light.”

  Not bad. We might actually have a team thing going on here.

  Chapter 58

  The World According To Tissout

  No gifts this time, just an insatiable itch for more info.

  The door swung open and there stood Monsieur Tussout. He took one look at me, smiled, turned around and went back in, leav
ing the door wide open. So I followed.

  The interior of the house was beautifully furnished. The side that did not face mine was lined with windows and surprisingly bright and open; the complete opposite of his demeanor from last time. I caught him watching me.

  “You approve?” he asked.

  “Oh, yes!”

  “I cannot take credit. My wife’s touch is everywhere.”

  “Well, she certainly has a good eye.”

  He smiled. “Yes, and also a good heart.”

  I looked at him, suspicious of the polar opposite of what I had expected.

  Why was he so friendly?

  He gestured to have a seat. “I will bring us some wine.”

  Instead of sitting, I looked around the room, curious. On one wall, hung a magnificent watercolor of the Mediterranean coastline, signed by an A.T.

  On a table, books were stacked haphazardly. Thumbing through, I noticed some were geological, but most were historical, except one. After mentally double-checking my French, I looked again. ‘Historical Rituals.’

  Weird?

  I turned to see some needlepoint resting on a side table next to a comfortable chair and walked over for a closer look. A dog half-finished. Their deceased pet? Dust lightly covered the surface. I doubted it would ever be completed.

  I moved over to an old walnut and leather desk cluttered with stationery and an antique inkwell. In the middle of it was a laptop, which seemed out of place among the rest.

  If my geriatric crew was computer savvy, why not them?

  Arranged off to the side was a small stack of well-worn geographic maps showing the coastline. All had different dates, but were of the same region.

  Was he a history buff and a collector, too?

  I walked over to see some family photos along one wall. One in particular showed a younger Madame Toussout, her husband, and a small boy and a little girl. The other photos progressed in age, but the children were missing.