Chapter Fourteen

Fourteen

"N ow, of course," Jeannette said, "the fact that it's back there doesn't necessarily mean the book belongs to Delphine. At most places where they have this kind of thing where there's a little supply of books, people often leave what they've brought and take what they're in the middle of reading."

Daniel arched a brow. "This is going on, but at some point someone was reading this book and left it here?"

Jeannette was studying the book. "It's in English. I don't think that would be Delphine's choice—she speaks English well, but French is her first language. People usually buy books in their native language. It was written fifteen years ago," she said, studying the publication page. "By N. Q. Middleton, professor of European history. It's probably an interesting book." She looked at him. "Good reading material? Maybe I'll take it."

"I'm not sure this is your typical lending library because the books are in the back of the closet," Daniel reminded her.

"But just because a book is here..."

"Jeannette, let's face it. None of us wants Jules or his mother to be connected. We need to keep open minds and... Well, the chap has waited for us. Let's go see what we can see," Daniel said.

"Right," she murmured. She hesitated. "Our team has the whole place here, but still..." she said thoughtfully, holding the book. "We know that there are keys out there."

"You're worried about someone knowing we've found the book?" he asked.

She nodded.

"I will put it back exactly where I found it," Daniel told her. "And don't forget—"

"Not to worry—we haven't opened our bags yet. If anyone else were to open it, I've created a poor man's booby trap. A scrap of paper that will dislodge. Anyway..."

"Smile," he told her. "We're on!"

They headed out to the room where the movie had just ended and the credits were running.

Jules had been sitting on the sofa by Della; he rose, as did the others, when Jeannette and Daniel arrived.

"Great movie, great views of Paris in it. And I do so sincerely hope you get to enjoy some of the history and beauty of our country!" Jules said enthusiastically. Then he grew somber. "I'm so sorry, we need to get serious here. I'm ready whenever you are."

"We are ready," Jeannette assured him.

"Shall I drive?" Jules asked politely.

"Better take your car just in case we need you quickly," Mason advised.

"Gervais is still busy in Paris, I imagine?" Jules asked.

"He is, I'm afraid," Mason told them.

"But!" Della said, jumping up. "Jules, may I come, too? I've so enjoyed the time we've spent watching the movie. I love hearing about Paris and Reims. You may be a magician, but you're also just an incredible guy!"

"Mais, oui!" Jules told her. "Delightful."

He looked around to see if any of them would dispute the idea, but everyone just smiled at him. Of course, Jeannette knew the rest of them would be leaving as soon as they were out with Jules. The others would be headed to the House of Deauville.

"Let's do it. Will you ride with me, Della?" Jules asked.

Despite her belief in the magician, Jeannette felt every muscle in her body tense. She'd already had to determine how not to let a knife slide into a woman's body that day. But it would be ridiculous for Jules—even if he was a guilty man—to offer any harm to Della when they were following right behind.

"All right, then," Daniel said. "We will follow right behind you, Jules."

They were finally out the door.

Jules and Della headed for his car; Jeannette and Daniel headed for theirs.

"I know what you're thinking," Daniel told Jeannette. "You're worried—"

"About Della. And surely it occurred to you—"

"Della is armed and very capable, trust me. But do we instinctively worry? Yes, but then we have faith in one another while we back one another up. All right?" he asked.

"Just stay close," Jeannette told him.

"Will do!" he promised.

And he did. He stayed behind just far enough to avoid rear-ending Jules's car.

They reached the Matisse estate and turned onto an elaborate drive, which had not been part of the tour. It led them in a semicircle to the front of the house, an elaborate building that appeared to have been built sometime in the Gothic era. It had pointed arches, flying buttresses and ribbed vaults, rising two stories and higher with the elegance of the architecture. Stained glass occupied several of the front windows, and the place looked like something out of a fairy tale.

"Wow," Jeannette noted.

"This part of the estate was not on the tour."

"Where were we..." Jeannette murmured, looking around as she exited the car.

"Down that way. We didn't see the house on the tour because we passed it when they were showing us the fields, the winery and the guesthouse where they served us during the tasting," Daniel said.

"Right, yes, of course...getting my bearings!" she told him. "But—"

"I'm willing to bet they have something like golf carts to move around the property to take them to the fields, the winery and the guesthouse," Daniel said. "I don't see Delphine Matisse cheerfully taking long, long walks on a daily basis. They know we want to talk to her workers."

Ahead of them, Jules and Della were out of the car as well. Jules called out to them.

"Please, come in! Maman is waiting."

"Oh, we are coming!" Jeannette assured him. "Jules...just the outside! This place is magnificent. And you..."

"I know, I know," he told her. "No one can understand why I don't just embrace being born into this incredible place and business. I am grateful. I had a great time as a boy living out here. I am incredibly grateful for my education... I just love magic. And my mother is all right with it, no matter what others say."

Daniel and Della stood close by them, respectfully silent.

Jules glanced at them and shrugged before continuing, "The Deauville and Montague families just don't understand. They're horrified by me, and by the fact that my mother isn't angry with me and won't disown me. To them... Well, you know. To them, we are part of a noble heritage, and I should probably be fed to the dogs or the like."

"Do you see them, um, socially?" Della asked him.

He shrugged. "Fundraisers, holidays, events when we're expected to be part of the excitement of an occasion," he said. "We're polite. My mother and Leticia were good friends once, but...then my mother raised a magician. Anyway, please, come in."

"With pleasure," Daniel assured him.

They walked the stone path, surrounded by flowering plants, to the front door. It opened as they arrived. Delphine Matisse herself was standing there, smiling.

" Bienvenue , welcome!" she told them, opening the door wider. "I was so afraid we wouldn't all get to be out here together. Though, Jules, if they are not able to accomplish all they hoped for today, you do have tomorrow morning, right? Oh, darling, tonight being your night off, you are staying at the house tonight?" she asked.

" Oui , Maman," he told her. "Shall we get our guests out of the hallway?"

"Of course. I have café au lait ready, and oui , croissants, but other little delicacies as well. Please. As we indulge, perhaps you can explain exactly what it is I can do for you," Delphine said.

"We'd like a chance to speak with your employees. And, of course," Daniel told her, "we'd like your permission to be on your property when we're working on searches."

"Searches for more bodies," she murmured, shaking her head. "Of course. But first, please come. I do like to think I brew some of the best café au lait you will ever taste. And do indulge. My cook, Bessie, is quite amazing. We French do pride ourselves on our cuisine. Starting out with filled bodies and strong senses will be but an aid to you."

"Of course, and thank you," Daniel said.

"You had me at café au lait ," Jeannette assured her.

"And me at the word croissant !" Della added.

Delphine swept out an arm, indicating they must come in.

The house's parlor to the left of the entry was beyond elegant. The furniture was French provincial, elegant with polished wood and metal fixings. The sofa was large and upholstered with rich embroidered blues. Armchairs matched.

There was no sign of a television or entertainment system of any kind in the room. It was a showplace.

But they weren't being led to sit in the parlor. They moved instead to the right of the entry and entered an exceptionally large dining room where their refreshments had been set around a table that could easily sit fourteen to sixteen people.

But Delphine Matisse indicated the settings were at the center of the table, which allowed them to sit three on one side and two on the other so they might face one another as they enjoyed the delicacies.

Delphine indicated she and her son would head to the opposite side of the table. Jeannette chose a chair with Daniel beside her and Della to his right.

"At least we'll eat well," Daniel murmured.

"If we're not poisoned," she whispered back.

"Hardly likely since Gervais knows exactly where we are. So...drink and eat up!"

They didn't see Bessie the cook; Delphine herself took pleasure in fixing cups and plates for them, explaining she was delighted for their company because she seldom dared indulge herself. "I am moving up in years and must take care of what goes into my frame!" she told them.

"You look so young!" Jeannette told her. And she did, for being the mother of a man in his late twenties.

"And quite lovely," Daniel assured her.

"Merci, merci beaucoup!" she said. "But age will take a toll. I am not obsessive, just careful."

"It works!" Della assured her. "I hope I do as well."

"Maman, you will be beautiful at any age," Jules assured her.

"Ah, what well-behaved guests!" she said. "Now, if I understand correctly, you wish to speak with our workers?"

"That is true. Anyone involved with any of the small wineries. You see," Daniel explained to her, "we believe someone who knows the region and knows it well must be involved."

Delphine nodded but then shook her head. "I am so confused. You know the media is referring to the last murders as being committed by the Vampire of Paris ? Aren't these young women staying in Paris and—"

"Staying in Paris, yes. But the young women we've identified all came out to this region and went on the wine tours. Again, for the bodies to have been left as they were..."

Delphine shook her head again. "It is so very difficult to believe! And now more bodies have been found in the unused fields. It is terrible. So terrible. Just as we French pride ourselves on our cuisine, we pride ourselves on these wines. You must understand. Product is all-important. Indeed, these fields are our livelihood, but there would be deep shame in producing anything but excellence, and...to have such shame as brutal murders brought to our steps... It is against everything we believe!"

"Of course, Madame Matisse," Jeannette said, "we understand your feelings! And we understand as well that many of your employees have been with you forever and that you would trust them with your own life. But someone out here does know something."

She let out a little sigh. "Well, I am afraid that while many, many French men and women speak English very well, not all do. But Jules—"

"I intend to go with them, Maman," Jules said.

"And Daniel speaks French fluently," Jeannette said sweetly.

She wondered if she should have given the woman that information. Things might have been said in French with the speaker believing he or she hadn't been understood. But Jules already knew Daniel spoke French so perhaps it didn't matter.

"Of course, of course!" Delphine said. "Jules will take the cart, and you may head to the work areas. Now we have many different areas, you know. We produce still wine and sparkling wine. We are known as vintners—the selection of fruit is critical and fermentation is critical. But some of the field workers are due in on the trucks just about now, and I believe you might want to start with them. There will be about twenty men working today. I don't see how you can possibly speak with everyone today, but I assume those men might be those you wish to speak with first?"

What I'd really like , Jeannette thought, is to rip your house apart!

"Oh, Delphine!" Della said. "These croissants...you are right! They are amazing!"

Jeannette managed to smile and add, "Madame, you do create the most wonderful café au lait known to man, I am quite certain!"

Delphine Matisse smiled and acknowledged their compliments. "I am so pleased you have enjoyed our offerings! Please, it will grow dark, so I do suggest you start out now."

"Aye—" Daniel began.

But Jeannette interrupted him. "I'm so sorry! And let me see if I have this right— est-ce que je peux utiliser vos toilettes, s'il vous pla?t? "

Madame Delphine laughed. "Excellent, my dear! Excellent. Come, I shall direct you."

They both rose, and Jeannette promised she'd be quick.

She wasn't sure what she was doing. Seeing one bathroom in the house wasn't going to help a lot, especially since she'd be led to a guest bathroom. Then again...

As Delphine led her from the dining room and through a long hallway with doors on either side, she asked Jeannette, "So, the press is claiming that a vampire is roaming freely in Paris. Of course, you do not believe in such things, do you?"

"I don't believe in vampires such as those written up in books. I do believe in human beings who convince themselves they need human blood, or who simply love the sensation of creating such a panic in cities like Paris and Reims."

"Ah, of course. And yet...the latest bodies. Or the older bodies. Those decomposed. They showed signs of..."

"Extreme torture," Jeannette said. "That is what the papers and media are saying, yes."

"And it is true?"

"It is."

Delphine shook her head. "It makes no sense. Torture, simply taking blood...bodies missed forever, new murders. It is all too horrible."

"And must be stopped," Jeannette said.

"Of course. Again, anything I can do. And here, mademoiselle, la toilette !"

"Merci beaucoup!"

Jeannette entered the bathroom and closed the door and let out a sigh.

She wished so, so badly she could determine if the woman was just curious for information, being as charming and giving as possible because it was all real...

Or if it was a further form of entertainment for her as she planned her next murder.

She couldn't forget the book that had been in the closet at Delphine Matisse's bed-and-breakfast.

And the bathroom...

As elegant as the rest of the house. Gold fixtures, an embossed shower curtain, a large mirrored cabinet and a shiny wood towel chest.

She searched through them quickly and discovered nothing except what she had expected, a room that was elegant and...

Elite.

Towels, shampoo, soap, skin softeners...

And nothing more.

But when she hurried back to the table, she discovered there was an interesting conversation going on.

"You see, French nobility has no legal status these days, but that does not mean many don't cling to their titles and trace their ancestry back to noble and royal houses," Delphine was explaining.

"And, yuck!" Jules added. "To other European houses as well. There was so much inbreeding when nobility reigned in Europe," he said, shaking his head. "I am grateful to say we are not related to anyone royal!"

"Well, we don't know that," Delphine argued. "We have not done any of those DNA kits nor looked on ancestry sites. Well, we know, of course, that Jules's father comes from a long line of distinguished vintners, but—"

"Too many royal houses were inbred to keep everything in the family in order to cling to power," Jules said. "The Hapsburgs ruled half of Europe for hundreds of years, and they were so tragically inbred that Charles II of Spain could barely speak or eat, his jaw was so badly deformed."

"Well, our neighbors do think they're royal, you know," Delphine reminded him. "But...get going! It's getting dark and the workers will be angry and uncooperative if they can't get home!"

Jeannette was dying to follow up on Delphine's last words, but since she was certain Jules knew what his mother had been about to say, they could question him about the "royalty" claims of his neighbors.

"Come, come!" Jules said. "We'll go through the back!"

"Through the back" took them along the hall with the bathrooms and into a huge pantry and on to the kitchen itself—then outside via a door at the end of the massive kitchen.

"Interesting," Jeannette murmured.

"What's that?" Jules asked her.

"Well, many things, but this house...it's hundreds of years old, right? And to have a kitchen this size!"

Jules laughed. "I think it was originally turned into a kitchen in the early 1900s," Jules told her. "My mother had it updated about ten years ago. Come on, the cart is just this way."

"Thank you for this," Daniel told him as they headed out.

"Yes, this is above and beyond," Della agreed.

"I'd like to say it's my pleasure but considering the circumstances... Anyway, consider this—if nothing else, this will be an extra special wine country tour," Jules said. "We'll pass growing fields filled with vines, and you'll see more of the operation."

"Wonderful!" Jeannette said.

He indicated the cart that did resemble a golf cart—with no space for clubs. The cart was parked near several others at a building just beyond the house. The lawn here was manicured but led out to a field that stretched out with sparse trees and growth to what was one of the growing fields, Jeannette thought.

But it could also be interesting to investigate the field that lay between the house and grapevines.

"Hop in!" Jules said.

He slid behind the wheel, and Jeannette sat in the seat next to him, thinking she wanted to be able to talk above the hum of the motor; Della and Daniel took seats in the back.

As it turned out, there wasn't much of a hum. The cart rode as smoothly as a Mercedes.

"Jules," she said. "I am so curious. Who do your neighbors think they are?"

He glanced at her. "Do you mean the Deauville and Montague couples?"

She shrugged and laughed. "If those are the neighbors you meant!"

"Well, I must admit, none of them have that enormous jawline that went with so many of the Hapsburgs. And that was the least of their problems—their gene pools were pathetic due to cousins who had been marrying cousins for hundreds of years. Epilepsy, hemophilia...things that created sick and sad lives. Ferdinand I of Austria was born with hydrocephalus, or water on the brain. It was said that he liked to roll around in trash cans. He also had epilepsy and that horrible Hapsburg jaw."

"But who—"

"Deauville. He thinks he's a Hapsburg. He's related through his mother's line, so he claims. I would never begin to suggest such a thing—if it were true! Seriously, in today's day and age, who the hell cares about royalty?"

"Um, the Brits, I guess," Daniel said from the back, which caused them all to laugh.

"Pageantry, maybe?" Della asked. "I don't know. Jeannette and I are Americans. But we get a kick out of watching the Brits."

"And I guess, some people feel things like that are important," Jeannette said. "But as far as your neighbors go—"

He groaned. "Once again, you're talking about Leticia and George Montague and Tomas and Giselle Deauville?" he asked. "Obviously, you all mean them. You're here. And I'm sure you'd be there, too, doing this, if they weren't such nasty people and you didn't know that they'd make you go through legal hoops to talk to anyone."

"Of course, their houses are of interest, too," Daniel said, leaning forward.

"Their houses? Or their employees?" Jules asked. "I'm sorry. I don't like them. Any of them. George and Leticia or Tomas and Giselle. As far as I'm concerned, they've been brutal to me and my mother. If magic were real, I would abracadabra them to an island somewhere."

"I'm sorry they've been so judgmental," Jeannette said. "I guess..."

"They think money and an inherited position allows them to condemn other people. Anyway, most of the time I don't care. My mother accepts my love for what I do. And sure, she would like it if I suddenly said all that I wanted in life was to take over the winery, but she still admires my talent! And I am a good magician!"

"You're a wonderful magician," Della assured him.

Daniel and Jeannette echoed her words: "Wonderful!"

"Well, thank you for that," Jules said.

"It's just the truth," Daniel told him. "And we're fond of the truth!"

"Still... Well, here we are. The workers are coming in. They've been advised that you want to talk to them, so..."

"We'll divide and conquer," Daniel told them. "We'll form three lines, if you don't mind helping out."

"Of course," Jules said.

They left the cart and started forward.

Daniel was right next to Jeannette then, and though Jules was speaking quickly—projecting with his stage voice—Daniel was following what he was saying. And it was good. He was assuring the workers that law enforcement had come for help. They desperately needed help and needed to know if any one of them had seen anything unusual at all.

"He also added that those who spoke English well should speak with you," Daniel told her.

"Hey! I'm sorry. My Spanish and Italian are actually decent!" she told him.

He grinned. "Della's French is so-so. I'm taking those who don't speak any English at all."

The workers, tired and hungry as they might have been at the end of the day, fell into lines as they were instructed by Jules.

Then Jules came to stand by her and introduced her to the men as they came forward. And very nicely for her, each of them spoke English well.

"We're seeking any help. Have you seen anyone here who shouldn't be here, anyone with a van who seemed to be stopping to let something off, anything you found suspicious in any way?" Jeannette asked.

Three men went by, puzzled and sorry, but unable to help.

But the fourth, a fellow who couldn't have been more than twenty or twenty-one, did have something to tell her.

"I saw the kind of vehicle you're talking about not long ago. It was a van. And it was strange because it didn't just stay on the road and drive by at the same speed as most vehicles. There is little reason to stop around here—these are fields where we work each day. But this van... It kept slowing down, as if someone was studying each place in the field. Then it went ahead. And I saw it stop and pull off the side of the road, up ahead, maybe...at the end of the line where we have our vines planted, just before the overgrown field that borders it," he told Jeannette.

"Did you see anything else? People getting out, carrying anything?" Jeannette asked.

"I'm sorry. I was busy, I just thought a tourist was lost or perhaps wanted to view the fields from afar or even..."

The man stopped speaking, looking at Jules uncomfortably.

Jules laughed softly and said, "I think you're suggesting you thought the van might have pulled over because someone in it wanted to relieve themselves," Jules said.

Jeannette laughed. "Thank you for your consideration. You thought someone in the van might need to take a pee?" she asked.

"Exactly," he said, flushing and looking away.

"Can you describe the van?" she asked.

" Oui ...it was dirty. Really dirty. And either dark blue or black," the man told her.

Dirty. Dark blue or black. The same van I saw on the road this morning, waiting for the man with the knife who is now dead to bring the girls—and me—to...

Their murderer.

"Thank you!" she told him. "That information is very valuable."

He looked pleased to have helped her and then turned to Jules to ask him something in French. Jeannette was beginning to pick up the language in bits and pieces.

He was asking if he could go home.

"Mais oui!" she replied, reaching to shake his hand and thank him again. Jules nodded, and since he was the boss's son, his word was accepted as gold.

"Thank you, seriously," Jeannette murmured as she waited for the next man in line to step forward.

"His words were seriously helpful, right?" Jules asked her.

"They were."

He started to speak with the next man, but even as he did so, she heard Daniel shout out angrily.

"A runner!"

Jeannette saw one of the workers toward the end of Daniel's line had suddenly bolted.

He tore past around the building behind them to race toward the overgrown field that bordered the Matisse lands.

And it was necessary for Jeannette and Della to race after the man as well.

"Left!" Daniel cried.

"Right!" she told him, and she took off running.

But around the fermenting building, she could see nothing. The building marked the end of the growing fields and beyond that...

Grass. Bushes. Trees.

Della was tearing forward to her far right. She saw Daniel's head as he raced through the bracken to her far left.

Ahead, just ahead, she heard thrashing. The man was right before her.

She kept running. She could see so little.

But she could hear him. He was just ahead, turning this way and that, but he was still in front of her in a perfect trajectory.

And then she saw him. Like the one man who had been so determined and hopeful that he might be helpful, this one was young. He was medium in build, dark-haired and fit.

And he could run.

But she had trained long and hard to be where she was with the Bureau and with the Blackbird division of the Krewe of Hunters.

She forced herself into another spur of energy and surged forward. She didn't threaten him with her gun.

She flew at his back, her strength and impetus bringing him down hard to the ground.

He was flat on his stomach but trying to twist and turn.

"Stop fighting!" she yelled at him.

And then Daniel was at her side and Della was coming up by him. Daniel hunkered by her, plastic cuffs ready to put around the man's wrists. In seconds, he had the fellow restrained.

Jeannette stood, and Daniel dragged the man to his feet and spoke quickly to him in French.

To Jeannette's surprise, the man began to laugh.

"You've got me!" he said. "You've got me. But for what?"

"For what? Several counts of murder!" Daniel snapped.

"Oh, okay, then. I did it. I did it all. No, I didn't. I didn't do anything at all."

"Why did you run?" Jeannette demanded.

"Because I wanted to see you run!" he said and started laughing again.

"We all ran. And you're under arrest for murder."

"You aren't even French. You can't arrest me," the man said.

"No? I'm sorry. We're authorized to hold you, and Gervais LaBlanc will do the arresting," Daniel told him.

He looked at Jeannette and told her, "Hey, you can hold me, baby!"

She let out a sound of disgust and turned away. As she did so, she was grateful to see someone else coming through the field.

Gervais! Gervais had arrived.

"Hey, here's the man who can arrest you!"

"Wait!" the man cried suddenly. "I am innocent. Leave me be! I can help. I am innocent, but I can tell you who is guilty!"