Destiny

A

"Thank you," she said.

Roux looked around, then tapped the table and said, "I'll be back in just a moment. Too much wine."

Comfortable and almost sleepy, A

Identification of the charm was paramount. Doug Morrell would love the story and not hesitate at all over the digital pictures she had taken of La Bête. The television producer wasn't like some police inspectors A

Thinking of Inspector Richelieu reminded A

But that wasn't what they were after, was it? The man had wanted her. Lesauvage had wanted to talk to her.

She started to feel frightened.

Suddenly she realized how much time had passed since Roux had quit the table. He had been gone a long time. Too long.

Glancing around the bistro, A

"Mademoiselle?"

A

"Is something the matter, mademoiselle?" the young woman asked.

"I don't suppose he paid the bill before he ducked out, did he?" A

"No, mademoiselle."

A

The server told her.

"That much?" A

The waitress nodded contritely, obviously still hopeful of a large tip.

"He was supposed to be independently wealthy," A

"Yes, mademoiselle." The server took A

Then A

She removed the folded handkerchief from her pocket. The disk shape was still there, but the panic within her grew as she opened the cloth package.

Inside the folds she found a two-euro coin. It was two-toned, brass and silvery, bright and shiny new.

Just the right size to make her think Roux had handed her the charm. Not only had he stuck her with the bistro tab, but he had also stolen her find.

Carefully, she folded the coin back in the handkerchief, noting that it was monogrammed with a crimson R.If she got lucky, he'd left her with more than he'd intended.

Chapter 9

"YOU'RE GETTING BACK quite late, Mademoiselle Creed."

"I am, François. I'm sorry. I should have called." A

She hated feeling guilty on top of it.

The clock on the mantel above the fireplace showed that it was almost eleven p.m.

François Lambert was a retired carpenter who had thought ahead. While building homes for others, François had also built for his own retirement years. The bed-and-breakfast was located a few miles north of Lozère, far enough out of the town to afford privacy and a good view of the Céve

One of the things that A

Over seventy years old, François was long and lanky, a whipcord man used to a life filled with hard work. He had a headful of white hair brushed back and touching his collar. His white mustache looked elegant and aristocratic. He wore slacks and a white shirt.

François waved away her apology. "I was worried about you, that's all. Lozère can be dangerous sometimes when it is dark." He studied her. "But you are all right, yes?"

"I am. Thank you."

He took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and shook one out. He lit up with a lighter. "I heard the police were involved."

Small towns, A

But gossip spread as aggressively as ru

"I was attacked," A

François shook his leonine head. "A beautiful woman such as yourself shouldn't be out alone. I told you that."

"I know. I promise I'll be more careful in the future." A

"Were you injured?"

"No. I was lucky."

"I heard Corvin Lesauvage was involved."

A

A pensive frown tightened her host's lined face. "Very little. I'm told that is the best thing to know about him. Lesauvage is a bad man."

"Inspector Richelieu told me that, as well."

"You went to him for help?" François looked concerned.

"He was assigned to the investigation."

"He is not a good man, either, that one. He tends to take care of things his way."

A

"Yes." François looked sad. "It is a bad way for a boy to lose his father. Avery, he struggles with right and wrong, you see. At least when his father was around, knowing that his father was a thief, he had an idea of what he didn't want to be when he grew up."

"You didn't mention this when I hired him to help me," A

François's face colored a little. "If I had, would you have hired him?"

A

"I was only looking out for the boy. Someone needs to. But I should have told you."

"This," she said, wanting to let the old man off the hook, "had nothing to do with that."

"I hope not."

"I'm sure it doesn't."

François nodded. "Camille wanted to know if you would be joining us for breakfast."

"Yes," A

"If I may," he agreed.

She asked for some rosin from his violin kit and was quickly supplied with a small portion in a coffee cup. After thanking François, A

She had a lot to do tonight. She didn't intend to let Roux get away with what he'd done.

A

She opened the windows and stood for just a moment as the night breeze filled the room. She took a deep breath and let go of the anger and frustration she felt. Those emotions were good motivators, but they wouldn't sustain her during a project.

No, for that she'd always relied on curiosity.

This time, there were a number of things to be curious about. Why was a man like Lesauvage interested in her? Why had Roux stolen the charm she'd found in La Bête's lair? Could the hidden cave in the Céve