Whispered Lies

“I don’t know, but I’m glad you called. Thanks for helping me. I’m ru

“Your sister’s got a point,” he admitted. “How big a deal can be going on at a coffee plantation? But we’ll pass that along for Retter and his team, and that’s probably more than you or I would have gotten from Amelia.”

“Do you think Joshua and Evelyn would talk to us?” Gabrielle asked.

“If I spoke to a student and LaCrosse heard about it, he’d be suspicious. I’m wondering how physically challenged teens play into all this. Are they a threat or will they be a threat? That’s hard to imagine. I’m not sure there’s anything more to be gotten from trying to talk to the kids. The Fratelli operate too abstractly to guess at what they are doing. Maybe the teens are just a diversion.”

If Carlos thought nothing else was to be gained by staying, then he would have to take her back to the States. Gabrielle wasn’t ready to face whatever Joe had in mind. Her best chance at freedom lay in staying as far from the States as possible.

A knock at the door made her jump. She looked at Carlos for direction. He lifted his hand in a palm-out “be calm” signal, then strode to the door and opened it.

“What?” Carlos snapped at someone.

Gabrielle stepped closer and heard Pierre say, “Monsieur LaCrosse assumes Mademoiselle Saxe is waiting for breakfast, but we’ve had no order placed for her meal.”

“That’s because-,” Carlos started.

“-I wish to eat in the main dining room,” Gabrielle answered, stepping into view.

Carlos moved aside when she did, which allowed her to see yet another appalled expression on Pierre’s face.

“Got a problem with that?” Carlos asked in a tone that warned Pierre there was only one correct answer.

“Of course not.” Pierre’s scolding gaze contradicted his words. He addressed Gabrielle. “I assume you know the route.”

“Oui, merci.” When Pierre backed up, spun, and walked away, she turned to Carlos and laughed. “I’m afraid Pierre finds me lacking.”

“If he’s stupid enough to let me know, he’ll find his face lacking a nose. Why do you want to eat down there?”

Her eyes twinkled. “You have to see. It’s like a fine restaurant and a training ground for chefs. And the students congregate there so we might get a look at Evelyn or Joshua.”

“We can do that, then go ahead and finish the programming.”

She smiled so he’d assume she was ready to do just that.

Carlos secured the room to his satisfaction, then she guided them down two long hallways to a split stairwell that converged in the central dining area.

“Looks like a place you’d need reservations six months in advance for,” he murmured.

She smiled, recalling when she and Linette always sat at one of the white-linen-covered, round tables that seated four, leaving the rectangular ones for eight to the cliques of popular students. Roses in narrow glass vases and silver condiment servers still centered each table. Hand-cut glass sparkled around six massive chandeliers hung from the soaring ceiling.

“My family donated those three framed pieces by fifteenth-century artists.” She pointed at each one hung on the stone walls.

“From the smell of bacon, eggs, and breads baking, I’m thinking this was a great idea.” Carlos took the last couple steps until he reached the floor. “How is it everyone here isn’t overweight?”

“Exercise classes are required.” She stopped next to him, sca

“What’s protocol here?” he asked.

“We choose a table and they bring us food.”

She led the way with Carlos at her side and had almost given up finding one of the teens when she saw a redheaded boy sitting alone at a round table.

“There’s Joshua,” she said under her breath. “I’ll ask if we can share his table.” She waited while Carlos considered her suggestion. Would he trust her to make contact with the teen?

“Okay.”

She enjoyed a surge from the confidence he was placing in her and moved toward Joshua.

“May we share your table?” she asked the boy.

He lifted his head. Freckles marched across his blunt nose. Eyes too sad to be a child’s stared out from under a shock of golden red hair. He ate with perfect ma

“Sure.” Joshua stared fleetingly at her and Carlos. “Are you new teachers?”

“No, we’re guests.” Gabrielle smiled, hoping he’d warm up to her. “I’m installing a new computer program.” She searched for a common interest. “I was a student here once.”

Joshua said nothing while they settled and a waiter took their orders, then brought them coffee and tea. Joshua glanced around as though looking for someone or to see if someone was watching him.

“Have you been here long?” Gabrielle added honey to her tea, keeping her tone casual.

“Not long.”

“Where does your family live?”

“America. My dad is a congressman in the United States.”

Gabrielle caught herself listening to the inflection in his words. He sounded as though he was reciting information, his answers so quick and automatic.

“Is this your first time in France?” Gabrielle smiled, trying to think of more mundane questions that would not frighten him off. This had seemed simpler when she came up with the idea of trying to find the teens.

“Yes, my first time. I love the country. The school is excellent.” He stopped abruptly as though that was the end of the answer. He was clearly nervous.

“I know some people in Congress,” Carlos said while buttering a croissant. “Who’s your dad?”

Joshua was stark white. He glanced at Gabrielle, who couldn’t figure out why he was so nervous.

“I’m going to be late,” Joshua muttered. “Please excuse me.” He stood up, lifting the still half-full plate, and turned to leave. That’s when she saw his left arm. A prosthetic forearm and hand he used awkwardly, favoring his right side.

“Thank you for allowing us to sit with you,” she told him, and he said something she couldn’t hear, then hurried away.

She turned to Carlos. “I feel bad asking him questions. I think we terrified him. He didn’t even eat his meal.”

“Something was off with him and I don’t think it was just us.” Carlos leaned forward and spoke low. “Now I understand even less how the kids factor into all this.”

“I don’t either.” She kept an eye on the half of the room she could see behind Carlos and finished her omelet.

She wasn’t very good at this investigation thing and had to try harder if she was ever going to find a way to prevent going back to the States yet.

“There’s Evelyn three tables away,” Carlos said softly, his gaze caught on someone past Gabrielle’s shoulder. “She’s talking on her cell phone and stacking her food like she’s ready to leave.”

Swinging around slowly, Gabrielle took in the room from the corner of her eye. “Got her.” Another chance to find out something, but she wasn’t exactly sure what she needed to ask.

Carlos placed his napkin on the table. “Let’s go.”

She was up and moving with him. They were ten tables away from where Evelyn sat with two more female students. Evelyn wore narrow, rectangle glasses with tortoiseshell rims, so distinct against her pale skin and light brown hair bobbed short.

Gabrielle’s attention was snagged by an attractive woman with short blond hair wearing an aqua-colored pants suit approaching from the other direction. She appeared to be in her midthirties and moved with an athletic grace.

As they neared Evelyn’s table, the blonde slowed and stepped behind Evelyn, who swung around and smiled.

But Gabrielle recognized the smile on Evelyn’s face as a practiced one they all seemed to have as teens in a school full of strangers. A polite smile taught from the moment she could understand the word protocol and what family duty meant.