Chapter Two

Two

S helley knew they had taken the City of Light tour; she knew they had met early on in their trips to the city and they'd gone to Notre Dame together and to the Louvre and Versailles. But she needed to think...to remember...to write down every little place they had gone, the shows, the cafés...the little places where they had gone where they might have been seen.

They tried to calm her down. As they did so, Jeannette had to admit to herself that Daniel Murray was good when speaking with someone bereaved. One thing was important: there was no doubt these girls had met on their first tour—one often taken from Paris. A tour of the nearby wine country.

Eventually, they left Shelley with Gervais so he could bring her to headquarters, set her up in a safe house and introduce her to her personal bodyguards. They needed to set themselves up at the headquarters that had been arranged for Blackbird, a place where they could work and where Gervais LaBlanc could also join them to keep the Paris inspectors and officers abreast of everything that was happening and where they could in turn learn from the Paris police.

"They met heading out to the wine country," Jeannette said as the two of them arrived at the house on ?le de la Cité, or "City Island," that would be their home and workplace for the duration of the case. "The bodies were found in the wine country."

"It stands to reason that we should head to the wine country," Daniel said.

The house was accessed through a code, which Daniel keyed in. Opening the door, he surveyed their new domain.

"It's very similar to where we stayed in Edinburgh," he murmured.

"It's, uh, great. I think," Jeannette told him. She smiled. "I wasn't in Edinburgh, so I don't know. It's the first time I've worked outside the United States."

He smiled at her in turn. "It's the first time I've worked out of Great Britain," he told her. "Trust me, I'm just as lost."

"I didn't say I was lost," she protested. But his laughter made her laugh. "Okay, it's new—but the same. We work the same."

"Of course," he told her. "But having this house with such easy access to the station, tech help and all that works well."

The headquarters they had been given was a house at the southern end of ?le de la Cité with easy access to water and land routes; across the water from it was the Institut médico-légal de Paris just off the Seine, and also near the Viaduc d'Austerlitz. The house had been built in the late 1700s, but it had been updated and offered a sparkling new kitchen and baths in each of the five bedrooms. An entry led to a grand hall or large living room, off from which was a dining room that could be reached through a domed arch. The house gave them a place to live and work throughout the day—and night.

For Jeannette, it was wonderfully different. Her last assignment had been an equally heartrending one. She'd gone undercover to infiltrate a cult and discovered the reason three young people had died. She'd lived in a dorm with four other women; food had been rationed.

After that, this was...

"Nice," she murmured aloud.

"Right. So, we plan from here. We discuss here, we share here. The dining table becomes the great work center," Daniel said. "And right now—"

"I'm not sure what to do. The first tour we can make is tomorrow morning beginning at ten o'clock. And that would mean leaving here bright and early or—"

"Or, we could leave tonight and check out Reims before taking the tour."

"Well, there is a bus that leaves from here," Jeannette said.

"Did Shelley and her friends take the bus from here or pick up the tour once they were already in Reims?" Daniel asked her.

"City of Light Tours..." Jeannette murmured, looking at the site on her phone. "There are tours that encompass leaving from Paris and returning to Paris, but...there are also tours that leave from Reims."

Daniel had his phone out, too. She heard him speaking to Gervais, asking him to find out from Shelley which tour they did.

He ended the call and looked at her. "They left from Reims. Shelley said she went out there first because she wanted to see some of the things that Reims was famous for—along with the wine country." He hesitated, shaking his head. "That poor girl," he murmured.

"All right, so...do we know where she was staying in Reims?" Jeannette asked.

He nodded. "Aye. A bed-and-breakfast that is owned by a member of one of the local wine houses, a Mademoiselle Delphine Matisse. Shelley booked through an online site. We can do the same if you want to head out and see where she started."

"We could spend the late afternoon at the Louvre," Jeannette murmured.

Daniel nodded. "Aye, there is that!" he told her. "But I would like to get out there. Get a feel for the great houses, and of course, get in the city itself to find out what kind of reputation the champagne and wine houses have. Right. We have the massive houses, those responsible for the hundred-dollar bottles that are known around the world. But there are smaller houses, or smaller vineyards, I should say. I just think—"

"That you want to drive out to Reims now?" Jeannette asked him.

"Start from the start," he said.

She nodded, looking at him. In truth, the man resembled a young rock star more than a dedicated law enforcement official. He was striking with the thatch of hair over his forehead and the structure of his cheekbones and jaw, but his smile allowed for him to appear as if he hadn't a care in the world.

"What?" he asked her.

She shook her head. "Sorry. Just curious. Do you play the guitar?" she asked him.

"Yeah. I play and I have a guitar. I play for fun. Love music. Don't you?" he asked.

"Sure. Who doesn't? Sorry, I was digressing. Just curious. Did you always want to be in law enforcement?"

He arched a brow. "I probably wanted to be something else at some time. But my father was murdered when I was thirteen. I knew then and there that I wanted to be the one to... Well, you can't fix murder. But you can give a family a sense of peace. Anyway, back to now. Gervais has let us have the use of a little economy car. We can get online now and make our reservation."

She frowned. How were they going to play it? As a couple, as...

He grinned as if reading her mind. "We shouldn't be a couple. Just good friends, maybe even a brother and sister. Or cousins—that would work better. Use our own names, and oh, yeah, that will allow for the difference in accents. I grew up in Scotland, you grew up in the US, but we always agreed that when we graduated college, I'd show you the sights in France!"

"Okay. Good story." She pulled out her phone. "I'll get our reservation."

"Good. I'll report in and give Jackson and Mason and all a heads-up—since Mason and that group are supposed to reach Paris tonight, they might want to head out to join us. Or first meet with Shelley, too. See if they can learn something we didn't, and that Gervais hasn't managed to discover."

"It's a plan," Jeannette agreed.

"Hey. It's a good thing we didn't unpack, eh?"

She smiled and went online to make their reservations. As she did so, she heard Daniel speaking with the head of Blackbird, Mason Carter.

Her mission accomplished, Jeannette waited for him to finish the conversation. She felt a bit like the odd one out. She knew Daniel had worked with Luke Kendrick and Carly MacDonald in Scotland; he might be the only one of their number now who wasn't American, but he did have a rapport with the rest of a team she had yet to meet.

"All is good—they'll be here in a few hours. They'll set up here and meet with Gervais. I didn't know he had a son who was with the préfecture de police —did you?"

"I did not. But I suppose it's not surprising. Many children of police officers become police officers."

"Right. 'Tis true. Anyway, are we set?"

"We are," she said. "Two rooms at the bed-and-breakfast owned by Delphine Matisse in the city of Reims near the pickup point for City of Light Tours." He laughed. They had just brought their travel bags in. Daniel pointed to them and grinned.

"On the road again!"

"On the road again," she agreed.

As they headed out, he asked, "You want to drive?"

"You afraid?" she teased. "I mean, it's the wrong side of the road down here for you, isn't it?"

He smiled easily, taking the teasing well.

"I just didn't want to assume I would do the driving."

"Hmm."

"Hmm?" he queried.

"Should I be afraid?" she asked.

"I'll drive!" he said, groaning.

They headed out to the car, throwing their bags back into the trunk. "Eighty miles, they say," Jeannette murmured, looking at her phone. A message popped up as she did so. She glanced over at Daniel. "Gervais sent a list of places Shelley visited with the other girls in Reims."

"Champagne region, here we come," he murmured. He slid behind the wheel and said, "Along with the champagne and wine, the area offers spectacular architecture."

"You've been there before?"

"From the UK, France is right across the water," he said.

"Of course. So..."

Jeannette used her phone to begin to look up the area where they were traveling. Reims did offer so much more than just wine. "Founded by the Gauls, a major city in the Roman Empire," she murmured aloud.

"Hey, Londinium, or London. Those Romans got around," Daniel responded. "But around 451 AD, Attila the Hun torched the city."

"Ouch," Jeannette said, smiling as she read about the city on her phone. "I see that here! Ooh, we need to see the Reims Cathedral for French Gothic architecture and the Palace of Tao! I—"

"The things Shelley and friends would have wanted to see," he murmured. He quickly glanced her way, shaking his head. "Were these girls specifically marked, do you think? Or were they victims of happenstance, in the wrong place at the wrong time?"

Jeannette shook her head. "Well, three girls who met each other here are the victims—but did they go somewhere they might have been seen? Did they look like easy prey? The bodies weren't hidden—but they weren't left in obvious places as if they were on display, either. But! It does seem like a bit too much of a coincidence that they had become friends."

"Or appeared vulnerable and happened to be in the same places," Daniel said. "And all drained of blood. No sexual assault, not tortured, just drained of blood."

"Don't start with the vampire thing!" she groaned.

"There are sick people out there who want to think they're vampires. Blackbird began when they were seeking a would-be vampire. And—" He broke off.

"And you think that might mean there are really vampires out there?" she asked.

"Nope. I've read enough history. The legends don't just date back to Bram Stoker and Dracula . They had lamia in Greece and Varney the Vampire —or The Feast of Blood —came out serialized in 1845, before Bram Stoker took the creature to new heights. Most ancient peoples had gods and demons—and bloodsuckers. The last woman accused of witchcraft and legally burned in Scotland was Janet Horne, back in 1727, so think of it this way—human beings have always been superstitious, believing what they want to believe. Werewolves can be attributed to the disease of lycanthropy. Oh! The American vampire , Mercy Brown, 1892! Her grave was exhumed because it was suspected she was practicing evil deeds, now attributed to tuberculosis making its way through her family. But still, her heart and liver were extracted and burned before she could be put back to rest again."

"Do you think someone believes that kind of legend now?" Jeannette asked him, frowning. "Because..."

"Some say Bram Stoker took inspiration for Dracula from Vlad Dracul. And maybe he borrowed from Varney the Vampire . Others say he studied the history of Elizabeth Báthory," Daniel said. "Who knows? The point I'm making is that—"

"Daniel," Jeannette interrupted softly, "we do speak with the dead."

He smiled, nodding. "I know. But we've discovered the truth behind other legendary creatures and—"

She laughed, interrupting him. "Oh, seriously, come on! There are always programs on in which scientists are looking for Bigfoot!"

He grinned, nodding. "Right. Ape-man. Aye, but...we are looking for a killer—or killers here—the point being, I don't think this is just for fun. That came out wrong. I mean, I think we're looking for a killer who believes in the power of human blood."

Jeannette nodded. "I agree. Except... Okay, when I was with Gervais LaBlanc, after the autopsy on the last victim, I was thinking about Elizabeth Báthory."

"Really?" he asked, glancing her way.

She nodded. "Okay, there are two lines of thought on her in scholarly circles. One theory revolves around the fact that so many in her household were involved. There were so many witnesses, and so many young women really disappeared that she had to have been guilty. Then again, some say the family dynamics were such that relatives and even the Hapsburg Empire might have been setting her up. Of course, here's what is sad—those in her household, three servants I believe, were executed while she was walled up in her castle. To begin with," Jeannette continued, wincing, "her mother was a Báthory, her father was a Báthory, she was related to rulers across the area, including the king of Poland. She was married, and some say she didn't start her killing spree until her husband died while others claimed it was something she'd been doing forever. And some claimed her husband—deceased at the time of her arrest—enjoyed torturing victims with her. But—"

"But?"

"She was known for horrendous torture, covering victims in honey and watching as the bugs chewed them to pieces, stripping them and slicing them...all kinds of horrific things."

"I see where you're going," Daniel said. "These victims have just been drained of blood."

"Not tortured," Jeannette said.

"Here's something I find interesting as well on the other side," Daniel said. "I do know a little about history. All right, from what legend and history say, she might have tortured and killed anywhere from a dozen to over six hundred young women. Quite a difference there. But supposedly, at first, she was killing the poor—those without families to worry if they were missing, those barely existing. Then again, according to history and/or legend, she started on the daughters of lower gentry who came to be part of her noble household and they started disappearing. It was only when the more upper-class women began disappearing that she came under scrutiny. Of course, we need to remember that what was part of Hungary at the time is now part of Slovakia. Transylvania was separately ruled but not part of the country of Romania, but it was ruled by her relatives. And after her husband's death, she was in control of a multitude of castles, villages and land. Put her away—and you get control of that property. As you said, some historians believe that members of the Hapsburg Empire were part of it," he said thoughtfully. Then he shrugged. "And we're kind of back to where we started. The victims we've discovered have not been cut or tortured, no honey, no bugs consuming bodies..."

He paused, shrugged and shook his head. "Different world today."

"Yes, but money and power still talk," Jeannette reminded him.

"And we're not in any part of the Hungarian Empire—we're in France." Daniel shook his head.

"True. So, a purist vampire?" Jeannette asked, growing frustrated.

Their phones started ringing at the same time. "Has to be a group call—Mason or one of those guys," he said. "Want to get it on yours since it's in your hand?" he asked, grinning.

It was Mason, and Jeannette put her phone on speaker.

"You there yet?" Mason asked.

"Almost," Daniel told him. "I figure we'll check in, walk the streets, see if anyone else is hanging around."

"What time is your tour in the morning?" Mason asked.

"There's one at ten," Jeannette said. "I was thinking—"

"Anything later?" Mason asked over the phone.

"Sure. They have one that starts at two and lasts into the evening. I had just thought—"

"Gervais has decided to meet you out there in the morning—he wants you to see where the bodies were found, and it's going to take a few hours. If you're closing in on Reims, you'll see why—there are fields after fields after fields out there, owned by different houses, in different stages of growth, along with some land that's just wild. All three of our victims were found out there, but in different fields, all three of them belonging to different wine houses and near some stretches that are just fallow and overgrown. It's beautiful country, but...you don't want to be out there alone at night. There can be times when a car doesn't pass on certain roads for hours, and the darkness can hide just about anything."

"That's fine, Mason. We'll meet Gervais wherever he wants."

"He knows where you're staying. He'll meet you there."

"Fine, thanks. You guys are in Paris?"

"Yes, we're with Shelley, seeing where they're keeping her safe and meeting her guards. Nothing will be random—she'll have the same three people all the way through. All three are dedicated. Two awake, one sleeping... Nothing, no one, will get to her."

"Do you think she's an intended victim?" Jeannette asked.

"We don't know. But we're not going to take any chances. Della is talking to her now about all the things they did together. We'll start... But... Well, as I guess we all figured out, every tourist in Paris goes to the Louvre and Notre Dame. We'll see where else," Mason said. "Anyway, you're going to get there too late for much tonight, although you should take the time to have a great dinner and sample some champagne," Mason told them.

"Thanks. Will do," Jeannette told him.

Mason ended the call and Jeannette looked over at Daniel. "I think he just told us to go drink champagne."

"Want to hear something sad?" he asked her.

"What's that?"

"I don't like champagne. The supposedly better a champagne is, the worse it usually tastes to me."

"Ah! A Scot. A whiskey man!"

"Sometimes," he said with a shrug. "But I will sample champagne. The one good thing is this—you will never need to worry that I will over imbibe on the stuff!"

Jeannette grinned and looked out the window. She knew they were nearing Reims, which was a major city; but along the way, there were fields. Fields and fields and fields. Planted in different ways, perhaps in different stages. She knew that wine usually came from grapes, and that it could be made from other fruits, but she knew very little about the growing process.

"Fields and fields and fields for miles!" she murmured.

"And how many people have you seen?" Daniel asked dryly.

She grinned. "Well, it's getting later in the day."

"Thankfully, we were told to have some dinner. And look ahead! We're getting closer to civilization."

She understood why the city of Reims was a popular tourist destination, along with the fact that it was the capital of the champagne and wine world here. The buildings were impressive, spanning hundreds of years of architecture. Many structures appeared to be gothic, some dated back to the baroque period, and mixed in were buildings from various centuries along with more modern housing and office buildings.

They passed the cathedral at a distance, and Jeannette was glad she wasn't driving; the soaring arches and pinnacles were stunning. She winced suddenly, thinking of what a joy the trip must have been to the young women whose dreams had ended so tragically.

And then she wondered as well...

In a city so old, who might they find?

Daniel was watching the GPS and turned off to the left.

"Down this street and...nice!"

The bed-and-breakfast they had come to was small, but Jeannette thought the house must have been built and altered through the years, much like the cathedral. The front door had an archway that appeared gothic, smaller than the grand doorway at the cathedral, but similar in appearance. There were four towers that extended over the four corners of the place. A stone wall surrounded it, but the gates to the driveway were open. Daniel pulled in, guiding the car into what appeared to be spaces for parking to the side of the semicircular drive.

They got out of the car, and both of them stared at the house.

The front door opened and a woman came out. She wore an attractive teal business suit, and her light brown hair was swept back into a chignon. She smiled and called out to them, and appeared to be in her late forties.

" Bienvenue! Pardonnez-moi , welcome!" she called out to them.

They didn't go for their bags but walked to her as she came toward them with her hand extended in greeting. "I'm Delphine Matisse, and welcome to Reims. You are Jeannette and Daniel? You came together. I have reservations for two rooms. I did not know you were a couple."

"Cousins, not romantically involved, yuck!" Daniel said, giving her a great grin and turning on the charm he seemed so capable of drawing up at a moment's notice. He took the woman's extended hand. "We even grew up in different countries!" he told her. "But Jeannette just graduated from college, and I always promised I'd bring her here once she got her degree."

"Oh, how nice! Well, welcome back, monsieur," she told Daniel. She turned to Jeannette and said, "This is your first trip to Reims?"

"It is. And I'm fascinated and bowled over by the beauty of the place already!" Jeannette assured her.

"Tr è s bien!" Delphine said. "I am sorry! English—"

"Madame Matisse, I am in your country, and I don't expect people to speak my language. I know bits and pieces of French, enough to say, merci !"

The woman smiled and nodded. "I do hope you enjoy your stay. Now, keys for you both, the old-fashioned kind I'm afraid. One opens the front door, and the other opens your bedrooms. There are only three bedrooms, and the other is not occupied at this moment. If you need anything, my number is on the refrigerator. I'm often busy but my secretary will help you. Please! Enjoy."

"You don't stay here? It is your home, right?" Daniel asked.

"I am CEO of our family company at this time," she said. "We aren't far. We are on the wine tasting tours, so you will see our main home," Delphine explained. "Ah, this house! I do love it. So many special memories were made in this place. Well, it is amazing to have such a heritage, and hard work, also. Now, I will leave you. And I hope you will enjoy yourselves."

"Oh, we will!" Jeannette said enthusiastically. "We heard this was wonderful. And we're about to head out to find some food—"

"The restaurants are outstanding. Oh, of course, you will see La Maison Familiale d'Henri Matisse on your tour, but...most carry a delightful bubbly that you must try. We are very proud of our products. So I must go, but I hope to see you tomorrow!"

"Of course! We look forward to it."

She gave Daniel a special smile and asked again, "You are not together...really?"

"No, no!" Jeannette assured her. "Cousins. Like Daniel said—yuck!"

She handed each of them a little key ring with two keys each, not looking at Jeannette as she did so, but apparently appreciating Daniel's smile and the light in his eyes.

Then Delphine waved as she headed toward her car.

"I will hope to see you tomorrow!" she called. "Definitely, before you leave. I'll give you a very special tour!"

Jeannette lowered her head smiling; that was for Daniel.

She wasn't that up on sports cars, but she had a feeling the car parked next to their little economy number was something special.

"Maserati, top of the line," Daniel murmured, smiling as he waved goodbye.

"I think she likes you," Jeannette said, laughing as Delphine drove away at last.

He shrugged, studying the keys she had handed him. "Interesting," he said.

"What's that?"

"These keys. Who knows how many copies of these may be out there?"

Jeannette shook her head. "Nothing happened to anyone here," she reminded him. "The other girls didn't stay here—just Shelley."

"I know. I've been in law enforcement too long," he said. "I'm suspicious of everything."

"Great. Now you have me thinking," Jeannette said.

"Let's take a look and then eat!" Daniel said.

"That will work for me," she agreed. "Of course, we must try the Matisse bubbly."

He groaned, turning the key in the lock of the front door. They entered the bed-and-breakfast. Delphine Matisse had seen to it that while the facade might be historical, the house was up to date. The interior featured both a modern kitchen and baths. And it appeared that the living room and bedrooms had all been furnished by the most trendy manufacturers.

They surveyed the place, discovering quickly that the towers were basically for show. Stairs led them up to a window that allowed for a fantastic view of fields beyond the city toward the rear, as well as great views of the city itself from the front. Once, they might have been used to make a defensive stand, except Jeannette wasn't sure what a place that was so small might have defended.

The bedrooms were on the ground floor, but they didn't bring their bags in yet, rather heading out quickly.

In the car, Daniel asked, "And Shelley suggested...?"

"La Maison de Rivière," Jeannette told him. "Shelley dined there with the other girls. Who knows what we might discover there?"

Daniel shook his head.

"What?"

"The bodies were discovered out here. Aye, the lasses met on the tour out here that we're taking tomorrow, but..."

"But?"

"There's a Paris connection. I don't know what it is, I just..."

Studying him, Jeannette nodded. "They met out here. Maybe they were seen out here, then seen again in Paris...or..."

"I keep reminding myself we're just beginning to investigate," Daniel said. "There are six members of Blackbird now working this. I just feel an...urgency."

Studying his eyes, Jeannette felt she understood.

"We need to do everything we can as quickly as possible," she agreed. "Lest..."

"Lest we find another victim. Because whoever is doing this for whatever reason, well, they're not going to stop until—"

"Someone stops them," Jeannette said. "I understand. But we follow in the footsteps of the victims, and we study every clue. The others are in Paris—we do have a team."

Daniel nodded. "I know. So. Let's eat...and see just what we might discover, nourish our bodies, and expand our—"

"Minds!" Jeannette said.

"I was going to say our list of clues , but whatever!" Daniel told her.

She smiled in turn.

She had been worried about meeting him, skeptical of a new partner who knew members of Blackbird already and might not appreciate her presence, but...

Maybe he wasn't going to be half bad, after all.