Murder in Nice (38 page)

“
I still cannot believe I
missed all the excitement,” Grace said. “Zouzou can’t stop talking
about it.”

“
I’m just glad she’s not
damaged for life,” Maggie said, stopping to kiss Jemmy on the
nose.

Grace walked to the passenger side and
slipped inside, setting her coffee on the dashboard. Maggie put her
seatbelt on and looked at her expectedly.

“
It’s just that we didn’t
really get a chance to talk,” Grace said, not looking at
her.

“
Grace, it’s okay. I’m not
pissed. If anything, I owe you an apology.”

“
She totally had me
fooled.”

“
She had us all
fooled.”

“
It’s because she was so
damn helpful all the time.”

“
I know. I hate it when
people do that.”

“
No, seriously. You know
kids can be relentless and they want every single piece of you all
the time. It was just so nice to…to hand Zouzou off for just a
little break.”

“
I’m sure it doesn’t mean
every person who offers to relieve you is a sociopath,” Maggie said
dryly.

“
Good thing, since I
obviously can’t tell the difference.” Grace sipped her coffee
before speaking again. “So it turns out all the people on the tour
were just your basic not-very-nice but non-murderous
people?”

“
Pretty much,” Maggie said.
“I mean Olivier is a total nutjob. He loved Lanie and blamed me and
Dee-Dee and Randall for what happened to her.”

“
Why did he blame
you?”

“
Well, she told him I
betrayed her in high school.”

“
Goodness. How?”

“
I have no idea and I
probably never will. But she got it in her head that I’d let her
down and she carried it with her. Olivier seemed to think he was
honoring her in death or something by trying to hurt
me.”

“
And Dee-Dee?”

Maggie shrugged. “He just knew Lanie hated
her and so he added her to his list.”

“
But he was sleeping with
Desiree?”

“
Apparently. He was in on
the raging bull attack with Desiree. But I’m sure he would’ve
gotten around to taking care of Desiree eventually,
too.”

“
Has he been
released?”

“
No. He was cleared of the
murder charge, but he’s still on the hook for what he tried to do
to me.”

“
I still can’t believe you
spent six hours in a medieval dungeon, darling. I miss all the
fun.”

“
Yeah, trust me, you do,”
Maggie said dryly.

Maggie watched the leaves
scuttle across the gravel driveway and wondered if it was a
precursor to the famed
mistral
heading their way.

“
What will happen to Haley
now?” Grace asked quietly.

“
I guess she’ll push for an
insanity plea,” Maggie said. “Take it from me, there’s nobody more
qualified for it.”

“
You want her
punished.”

“
I honestly try not to feel
that way. She caused so much pain, but I know she’s
sick.”

“
By the way, Laurent told
me the good news.”

“
Oh! Grace, I’m sorry. I
wanted to tell you.”

“
Don’t be sorry. It’s
amazing and I’m delighted. You and Laurent are the best parents I
know. There should be more kids on the receiving end of all
that.”

Maggie shook her head. “I don’t feel very
good about the kind of mother I was. But I know I adore Jemmy
beyond reason.”

“
Well, that’s a good
start,” Grace said, patting her hand. “Unless, of course, you start
shoving people down stairs as a result of it.”

“
Who’s the guy, by the
way?”

“
Oh. My weekend in Aix?
Turned out to be nothing,” Grace said, picking up her cup and
opening her car door. “Will you be home for dinner?”

“
Are you going to tell me
about it?”

“
Of course. By and by. I’m
sorry we misconnected, Maggie. You know nobody can take your place,
don’t you?”

Maggie smiled. “I do. But it’s nice to
hear.”

On a day like today—sunny and bright but with a special spice
in the air—Maggie could feel the coming autumn in her bones. In her
mind, as desirable as summer was to the tourists and anybody else
who liked a warm clime, blue seas and ever-present ice cream cones,
surely it was the autumn in Provence that was the most
beautiful.

She glanced in the rearview mirror at Jemmy.
He seemed to be watching the scenery, his little face frowning as
if attempting to process the images as they spun by.

Dear God, will I ever stop
cherishing the fact that I still have him
?
She drove down the main road that led to the village but that also
bordered the far reaches of their vineyard. The pickers, if they
had vehicles, would park along the road and along the verge of
their property. As she approached, she saw a scattering of tents
erected along the perimeter of their property.

It felt nice to know what was going on with
the vineyard. Always before, she knew they were harvesting because
strange people would show up at her door asking for water. Now,
Laurent sat down with her and explained why he was doing what he
was doing. And although he hadn’t gone so far as to ask her for an
opinion—nor would she have an intelligent one to give on harvesting
techniques—it was still nice to be included. In fact, even though
she had already felt the pinch of the purse strings tightening in
just the two weeks since he’d told her about the co-op situation,
amazingly, the air of communication and sharing between them had
more than made up for it.

If we’re going to be
poor
,
at least
we’ll be poor together
, she thought as she
pulled up onto the verge.

“
Dada?” Jemmy said from the
backseat. A quick glance at him showed the baby pointing out the
window. When she followed his gaze, she saw Laurent, taller than
all the other men in the field, walking toward them, his stride
purposeful, his face serious and bronzed from the sun.

“
Yep, that’s your daddy,”
Maggie said, rolling down the passenger side window and waving to
Laurent as he approached the car.

“
You are on your way to
Arles?” he asked, reaching into the car to give Jemmy’s foot a
squeeze.

“
I am. You forgot your
lunch.” She pointed to the box on the seat next to her.

“
Ah,
bon
,” he said, reaching in and
plucking it out of the car.

“
Things going okay? Good
pickers this year?”

He shrugged. “As long as I
watch them,” he said, turning to regard the field. She knew he
loved harvest time, loved the sun, the hard outdoor work, the
baskets and baskets of grapes every evening loaded on the flatbed
back of the tractor. He turned to her. “You have not forgotten
about tonight,
chérie
?”

His investor, Adele, along
with some of the other vintners in their new business, was coming
over for dinner and drinks. Maggie was delighted that Laurent had
set up a mini-
degustation
at their house instead of meeting with his new
associates in the village café as they so easily might have
done.

“
I’ll be back in plenty of
time,” she assured him. “Don’t lose track of time, yourself,” she
said. “Will Jean-Luc and Danielle come?” She hadn’t seen their
elderly neighbors in several weeks and was anxious to catch up with
Danielle.

“
Bien
sûr
,” he said, clapping a hand on the car
as if to release her. “Drive safe,
chérie
. Tell your brother hello.” She
watched him smile a wry smile and felt a flood of affection in his
direction.

Dear God, will I ever stop
cherishing the fact that I still have him
?

It would take nearly an hour to reach Arles.
She selected a playlist of French songs on Jemmy’s music player and
turned the volume down so he could hear but she could talk on the
phone.

“
Ready, champ?” she said to
him, glancing again in the rearview mirror. “Off on an adventure
with Mommy?”

Jemmy grinned and stuck a pacifier in his
mouth as the first few notes of the songs began to play.

Maggie turned her attention back to the road
and punched in Annie’s phone number. She’d texted her earlier in
the day to expect her call, so she wasn’t surprised when Annie
picked up on the second ring.

“
Hello, darling!” Annie
said. “I was waiting for your call.”

“
You sound good,” Maggie
said with surprise. Although she’d already spoken to Annie several
times about the turn of events in the murder case—and especially
the news about Olivier and his involvement—she was amazed to hear
the energy and interest in the older woman’s voice.

“
I am much better every day
that goes by,” Annie said. “Do you have an update for
me?”

“
Well, I heard that Bob
Randall is closing down production on his television series,”
Maggie said. “I forget the actual wording he used in the public
relations release, but it doesn’t matter since I’m sure it probably
wasn’t the truth anyway.”

“
Oh, my.”

“
I also heard that Desiree
assaulted a waitress in Cannes over something and is facing
deportation.”

“
Deportation?”

“
Yeah, it seems the
quintessential Frenchwoman isn’t French at all. She’s
Swiss.”

“
Goodness.”

“
I don’t have any
information on Janet and Jim, and you’re up to speed on my crazy
sister-in-law. Or at least as up to speed as I am.”

“
And Olivier?”

Maggie took in a long breath and glanced at
Jem in the backseat. She watched his eyes slowly close as he fought
sleep.

“
I guess you could say he
loved Lanie to a fault,” Maggie said.

“
I still feel sorry for the
boy,” Annie said quietly.

Maggie cleared her throat. “Annie, I need to
say something to you and I hope you can hear me and that you won’t
take it wrong but I really need to say it.”

“
What in the world,
dear?”

“
I…I hope you can give some
thought to the idea of forgiving yourself for whatever you think
you did or didn’t do to Lanie.”

Maggie heard a quick inhalation of breath,
but Annie didn’t respond.

“
There were some things
wrong with Lanie,” Maggie said, “and I mean some really serious
things wrong with her, but I don’t think those things were your
fault.”

Maggie let the silence rest between them
until she heard a sigh emit from Annie’s end.

“
Thank you, dear,” she said
quietly, her voice over the line coming to Maggie wavering but
strong.

*****

An hour later, Maggie sat on one of the
curving benches in the park tucked into the Boulevard des Lices in
Arles. Gigantic cedars fanned out overhead, shading her and Jemmy
from the worst of the late summer sun. She chose this park because
it seemed less hectic than most of the children’s playgrounds she
and Grace visited in Aix and Arles.

Jem reached for the can of orange soda on
the bench next to them and she positioned the straw for him.

So much for Mother of the
Year
.

“
Thanks for
coming.”

He must have walked up from behind because
she didn’t see him until he spoke, right before he slid onto the
bench next her.

“
Sure,” she said, scooting
over to give him more room than he needed. She hadn’t seen her
brother since the night the ambulance had taken him and Haley to
Aix. She’d spoken with him on the phone a few times but, amazingly,
Laurent had talked to him more than she had. This meeting was also
Laurent’s idea, although Maggie wasn’t sure whether or not Ben had
put him up to it.

It didn’t really sound like something her
brother would do.

“
When will they move Haley
back to Atlanta?” Maggie couldn’t bring herself to ask how Haley
was doing. She reminded herself to feel bad about that
later.

“
Not sure. As soon as she’s
stable.”

“
They expect her to
recover?”

Ben looked at Maggie, trying to determine
her motive behind the question. Finally, he said, “Probably won’t
walk again. And there might be some…brain damage.”

“
I see. Enough to keep her
from standing trial.”

“
You do know she’s mentally
ill, right? I’m not trying to make excuses for her.”

“
She killed someone. She
tried to kill me.”

“
I know. Who would know
better than me?”

He looked like hell, Maggie thought. He had
shaved and his clothes were clean but he clearly hadn’t spent any
more attention than that on his appearance. Probably hadn’t slept.
He looked like he’d aged ten years.

“
You really didn’t know
Haley killed Lanie?” she asked him.

“
I swear I didn’t. Not
until the night before…she tried to hurt you.”