“And what would a big-time gambling czar be doing sending a skull to Eve?”
“Why don’t you ask him?” Joe suggested. “Politely, of course. And if that doesn’t work, call me. I’ll be glad to fly over there and deal with him in a less than polite manner. I don’t like the idea of having Eve and Michael being exposed to that kind of shit on my own turf.”
“Presently. Right now I’m on my way to Paillon, the little town where Darcy’s mother was supposed to have turned Sylvie over to Manard. It’s fairly close, and I want to check out why he chose that town to meet, then try to get information where she went from there. Then I’ll go to Manard’s beach house and tell him that you wanted politeness at all costs. But it wasn’t Jacques Manard who left that fingerprint at the Carnegie residence. Can you see if there’s a connection between Manard and Norwalk?”
“I’ll get on it. But I told you that he usually limited his operations to England and Ireland.” He paused. “You’re thinking that perhaps the target is Darcy?”
“I don’t know what I’m thinking. Check and see if Manard has any connection with Kaskov. None of it makes sense yet.”
“If it makes a difference, Kaskov told Cara that he had nothing to do with that attack on her.”
“Told her?”
“He called her tonight and said he thought she should come to him earlier than scheduled.”
Jock was muttering curses. “Son of a bitch. What else?”
“Only that he knew you were on your way to Nice. And that he was keeping an eye on her here.” He added dryly, “He’s evidently filled with grandfatherly concern. Touching.”
“Keep him away from her.”
“She won’t go anywhere without telling me,” Joe said. “Right now, she’s just worried about Darcy.” He added grimly, “And I’m worried about whether I’ll end up killing one of Kaskov’s men trespassing on my property.”
“Dammit, I need to get back there.” With an effort, he smothered the anger and exasperation. “I’ll call you after I’ve had my chat with Manard.”
“What happened to Napier?”
“He’s alive. He may not be, after I tell Manard it was Napier who gave him up. But that’s his problem. I decided I really can’t stand bloodsuckers.” He hung up.
Don’t think of Kaskov or all his machinations and wiliness that had made him one of the most dangerous criminals on the continent. He knew he’d have to go back and get a handle on any plans Kaskov might have for Cara. But he had to wrap up as much as possible here so that he could afford to put a period to what had happened to Sylvie Jordan.
Paillon should be just around the next bend. It appeared to be a nice little town with a lovely view of the Mediterranean. Evidently, the tourist entrepreneurs hadn’t been able to infiltrate this area yet. He was already seeing neat houses with window boxes full of geraniums. He passed a church with a tall steeple.
He turned the bend in the road.
And he saw why Felicity had been told to bring Sylvie to this small, charming town in the mountains.
The name on the building was glowing green neon in the darkness.
PIERPONT MAISON FUNERAIRE
And down below it.
CREMATORIUM
“You heard him.” Joe turned to Eve as he hung up from talking to Jock. “Jock is a little annoyed about all this. It was bad enough before Kaskov interjected himself front and center.”
“Not front and center,” Eve said. “He’s just hovering in the background and making certain that Cara knows he’s there. But I can see why Jock isn’t pleased.”
“Nor am I,” Joe said. “You’re amazingly calm considering how you feel about Cara’s visits with Kaskov.”
“I’m not calm. I hate the idea, but I think Cara believed Kaskov when he told her he had nothing to do with that attack on her. It relieved me. Cara is nobody’s fool.” She smiled. “I don’t even feel too upset about Kaskov’s sending that guard here to the lake to protect Cara. I want all the help we can get until this is over.”
“Even if that guard obeys only Kaskov?”
Eve smiled faintly. “You can get around that, Joe.”
“I’d rather not have that brand of help to have to circumvent.” Then he shook his head. “Okay, I’ll have a talk with him as soon as he gets here and lay down the rules. He doesn’t come any closer to the cottage than the far end of the lake. He has to call me for permission to make any other move. If he gives me any arguments, he’s gone.”
“Somehow, I don’t think he’ll give you an argument.”
He grimaced. “And that’s a disappointment.” He reached for his phone again. “And now I’d better get that info for Jock before he shows up on Manard’s doorstep. He’ll need somewhere to start…”
*
“How are you doing?” Cara asked Darcy quietly as she dropped down beside her on the bank of the lake. “You look better today.”
“Why not?” Darcy looked around the woods and lake, then to Michael splashing in the water several feet away. “It’s all good here. As long as I don’t think too much, I’m good, too. I know I’ll have to come back to the real world soon, but not just yet.” She smiled. “Hey, and I even have a great melodrama working for me.” She lowered her voice to a mock hiss. “A Russian goodfella wandering around the property protecting my good friend Cara from the forces of evil.”
“That’s not funny.”
“I think it is. But then I have a twisted sense of humor these days.” She shrugged out of her caftan, revealing her beige bikini. “And believe me, I like the idea of its not being me having to be responsible for saving you again. There’s no Jock around to rattle out orders.”
“No one is responsible for me, but me,” Cara said. “And I don’t appreciate having my grandfather inserting himself in my life like this. Because it means he’s also inserting himself in Joe’s and Eve’s life.”
“But you’ve got to admit it would make a great movie.” She was splashing her legs in the water. “I thought I was the one who had all the cinematic fireworks in her background until Eve told me about what you’d gone through as a kid. Both your parents involved in Mexican cartels that made you a pawn and put you on the run. Your grandfather, a Russian Mafia head, lurking in the background. Shades of The Godfather.” She grinned. “You kind of put me in the shade.”
“Some people would say that’s a less than wonderful pedigree,” Cara said dryly.
“Really?” She tilted her head. “Is that why you never told me about your background?”
“No. I’m a private person. And there were too many things that happened to me that hurt too much to remember.” She met her eyes. “I don’t give a damn about pedigrees or what my parents or grandfather did. Jock told me once that I was born with my own soul, and that meant I was the one who could make the choices. That changed everything for me.”
“Very wise man,” Darcy said. “An Adonis with a brain. Who would have thought it? I could have used a Jock in my life while I was trying to make sense of what was happening to me after Felicity made me leave Sylvie.” Her smile faded. “But I’m glad that you had him. I never had many choices, or maybe I just didn’t reach out and take them. Perhaps I didn’t know it was a possibility. If you’d shown up on the scene a little before you did, maybe you could have told me. I guess neither of us knew what we were coming up against when that housing director threw us together at the residence.” Her gaze slid away and focused on Michael playing in the water. “But I’m glad that she did, Cara.”
Cara smiled. “So am I.”
Darcy slipped into the water. “Well, now that we’ve gotten that awkwardness over, I’m going to escape and go swim with Michael. Did I ever tell you what a great swimmer I am? In one of my last episodes on Golden Days, the writers decided I should have a retro dream about that forties star, Esther Williams. They wanted it to be authentic, so they gave me swimming lessons galore.” She was striking out in a breast stroke. “But at least it will come in handy if I have to rescue Michael.”