Race to World's End (Rowan and Ella Book 3) (41 page)

Randall was the sun around
which everyone revolved, that much was clear. Maggie could still feel the charm
radiating off him. It wasn’t just that the sought-after prize came at his
discretion, and that it included working closely with him. It was also because
the man had an aura of charisma that seemed to draw everyone into his
sphere—even waiters and shopkeepers, Maggie noticed.

Full and thickheaded from the
afternoon wine followed by multiple cups of espresso, Maggie wondered how any
of them were going to perform in any kind of coherent manner for the afternoon
tours.

“We took the day off because
of you,” Dee-Dee said.
 

“Oh, I didn’t realize that,”
Maggie said, her eyes watching as Desiree drunkenly tugged at Randall under the
table.

“Well,
some
of us will be working, of course,” Dee-Dee said tartly. “
Some
of us are always working.”

“
Tais-toi
,” Desiree snarled.

“Now, girls,” Randall said,
his arm going around the back of Desiree’s chair. “We’ve had a lovely lunch,
haven’t we? Let’s don’t ruin it. Are you tired, darling?” he said to Desiree,
his eyes glossy with drunken lust.

Looking at Dee-Dee and not
Randall, Desiree smiled slyly and nodded. Maggie thought it was the first smile
she’d seen the woman give. It wasn’t pretty.

Randall and Desiree stood up
and staggered away from the table without a backward glance.

“Disgusting,” Dee-Dee said,
watching them retreat down the long street and disappear.

Maggie turned to her. “I
thought you said they weren’t an item. I thought you said it was all in Desiree’s
head.”

A loud bark of a laugh made
Maggie turn in surprise to the Andersons at the end of the table. They were
both watching Maggie.

“Is that what Dee-Dee told
you?” Jim said. “Well, that is truly pathetic. Even for our little Dee-Dums.”
He laughed again.

Dee-Dee jumped to her feet,
lost her balance and fell back into her chair, knocking her wineglass over onto
the table. She was successful on the next try, grabbing her purse and making
the best possible show of swanning out of the outdoor restaurant. Maggie
watched her go and then looked back at the couple.

“So Dee-Dee’s got a torch for
Randall?” The couple exchanged a look, trying to decide if it would be
appropriate to condescend to converse with her.

Finally, Janet leaned across
the table. “It’s a fascinating study in human behavior. Dee-Dee wants Bob but
Bob wants…wait for it…Lanie.”

Maggie frowned. “But isn’t he
sleeping with Desiree?”

“Didn’t I say it was
fascinating?”

“Don’t forget the best part,”
Jim said as he placed a hand on his wife’s arm. “The best part is that Desiree
knows
that Bob really wanted Lanie.”

“But Lanie said no?”

“Supposedly,” Janet said, her
eyes glittering with cryptic meaning. Maggie reminded herself that according to
Dee-Dee, Lanie
had
said yes to Jim.
And while that might give him bragging rights since it sounded like she wasn’t
totally undiscerning, it also gave his wife, Janet, motive.

Maggie looked back down the
narrow road where Desiree and Randall had vanished.

“So Desiree is sleeping with
Randall, but everyone knows he preferred to be with Lanie—who he couldn’t
have.”

“Exactly.”

“Wow,” Maggie said. “Desiree
must have hated Lanie.”

“You could say that,” Janet
said, leaning back into her chair and reaching for her wineglass.

*****

Grace walked across the lawn,
a basket of just-cut zinnias in her hand. The sun hadn’t set yet and the warmth
of the day seeped into her thin linen tunic.

Zouzou burst out from the
underbrush and tackled Grace around her legs, making her falter but not fall.

“Zouzou, you little monster!”
Grace laughed, wrapping her arms around her daughter and trying to tug her into
her arms. “If this is an ambush, I’ll have you know I can retaliate with
rapid-fire tickling.” Zouzou shrieked and twisted out of Grace’s grasp. She ran
back around a large lavender bush that anchored the north corner of the
flagstone terrace.

Haley appeared from inside
the house and set down a tray of drinks glasses on the large outdoor dining
table. She had little Jem snugly tucked into a carrier she wore in front. He
was awake and, unlike how Maggie usually wore the carrier, was facing outward.
Actually, Haley’s way made more sense, Grace realized.

The baby was kicking his feet
and looking at the world around him, his fists reaching out to grab at the
trees, the tablecloth or the ears of Laurent’s big hunting dogs, Inge and
Marthe. Little Petit Four, Maggie’s scraggly poodle terrier mix, wisely spent
most of her time under tables and away from Zouzou’s insistent demonstrations
of love.

“Drinkies, Grace,” Haley
called to her. “Laurent thought this would lure you in.”

“The man knows me too well,”
Grace said, dropping the flower basket on a chair and surveying the tray of
drinks. She picked up a cold crystal glass with crushed ice and cut limes in
it. One sip told her it was vodka, but infused with something she couldn’t put
her finger on.
Basil?

She settled in a chair and
put the drink down before reaching out for Jem. “Shall I take him? He looks
heavy.”

“He’s absolutely no trouble
at all,” Haley said, unbuckling him and slipping him out of the harness. “But
it is a little warm.” She handed him to Grace and sat back in her chair and
smiled. “You should have another,” Haley said. “You look beautiful with a baby
in your arms.”

“I look even better when it’s
somebody else’s baby,” Grace said. “Did you have a good day? Did Zouzou behave
herself?”

“She was an angel. I could
eat her with a spoon. Did you get a lot of work done?”

Grace took a long sip her of
her drink, turning her face away. “Not near enough,” she said. “I don’t really
know what I’m doing.”

“I’ll bet you’re doing better
than you think.”

“Thanks. I suppose time will
tell.”

Later—much later—Grace
would remember the next several seconds as happening in slow motion. She would
realize that time had slowed down and along with it the ability to move or
react or think until all she could do was sit frozen in her chair, a baby on
her lap, and listen to the terrified screams of her child as they reverberating
across the lawn and into the atmosphere.

I hope you enjoyed this
sample of
Murder
in Nice
, Book 6 in the Maggie Newberry Mystery Series, and if you’re
interested in how it all plays out, please
find
it at Amazon.com
along with the rest of Maggie’s adventures!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Susan
Kiernan-Lewis lives in Nocatee, Florida and writes mysteries and romantic
suspense. Like many authors, Susan depends on the reviews and word of mouth
referrals of her readers. If you enjoyed
Race to World’s End
, please
consider leaving a review saying so on Amazon.com, Barnesandnoble.com or
Goodreads.com.

Check
out Susan’s website at susankiernanlewis.com and feel free to contact her at
[email protected].