“I heard that yesterday, Alexandra. And you won't get away with it twice. But it certainly explains your behavior last night. You couldn't think straight. Well, I'm not going to tolerate an outrage of this kind. You will leave for Cap-Ferrat in the morning.” She was being banished, like a naughty child, and tears filled her eyes at the injustice of what he was thinking.

“Henri, I have never cheated on you. You must believe that.” She didn't dare approach him, and they stood at opposite ends of the room, she in bleak despair, and he in outrage.

“I believed that until now. But you cannot expect me to believe it in this instance.”

“It's true.”

“That's nonsense. And I have every intention of telling your mother what I think of her providing a smokescreen for you. I do not wish to see her at Cap-Ferrat this summer.”

“Henri, that's not fair. She wants to see the children …”

“She should have thought of that before she began covering for you with your lovers.”

“I don't have any lovers!” Alexandra screamed. “And my mother has nothing to do with this …”

“Aha … I thought this was a business matter for her.” He advanced on her slowly, victory in his eyes, and Alexandra sank into a chair, beaten and desperately unhappy.

“It is …”

“What kind of business matter is it?” He roughly tilted her chin up so she had to face him, but he knew she wasn't entirely telling him the truth, and she could do nothing about it. To tell him the whole truth would have been far worse. She knew that.

“I can't explain it right now. It's all confidential business matters of my parents.” She looked pale and shaken, and he stalked out of the room again, and then turned to look at her from the doorway.

“I never would have expected this of you, Alexandra. See to it that it never happens again, or you will be going back to your mother's house, without your daughters. Have your things packed for the Riviera by noon tomorrow.” And with that he slammed the doors to her boudoir, and she sat and sobbed in despair. She had had such a pleasant time with John, and it was all so harmless, and now Henri thought she was cheating on him. And then suddenly, she realized she had to call him. She went hastily to the phone on her desk, and called the Bristol. Fortunately, he was there, and she was able to tell him that they were leaving for Cap-Ferrat several weeks early, in case he needed to reach her. She gave him the number and thanked him for lunch again, never letting on for a moment how much pain it had just caused her.

“I hope I'll be in touch with you again soon.”

“So do I.” But she was ashamed for thinking it for several reasons. He was so kind and so understanding. But he had his own life to lead, and so did she. She had enough trouble without indulging in fantasies about him.

“I'll call as soon as I hear something.”

“Thank you, John. Have a good trip back.”

“I will. I'm leaving in the morning.” He had hoped to get on a flight that night, but he had gotten back to the hotel so late after lunch that he was no longer in the mood to pack and run, and he decided that a last night in Paris wouldn't do any harm. He was feeling relaxed and pleased about his lunch with Alexandra, and when he'd called Sasha from the hotel she was in one of her impossible moods. He was suddenly in no hurry to get back. He was looking forward to dinner at a bistro nearby, and a pleasant stroll through the streets of Paris.

He said good-bye to Alexandra and she hung up and walked slowly into her bathroom, unable to believe that Henri so easily thought the worst of her, and wondering what the summer would be like now. But she got a taste of it that night. He spoke to her in tones of ice, and until the next morning when she and the girls left, he treated her like a pariah.

“You will do no entertaining until I arrive, is that clear? You are to stay in the villa, and I will call you.” He treated her like a convict who had attempted to escape and her own fury was building slowly as they said good-bye the next morning.

“May I go to the beach, or should I stay in my room wearing a ball and chain?”

“I'm sorry you feel our marriage such a burden, Alexandra. I never realized it caused you such anguish.” He had an answer to everything and for the first time she hated him as they drove away. The chauffeur and two maids were accompanying them on the trip, and they were putting the Citroën and the Peugeot station wagon on the overnight train to the Riviera.

“Why was Papa in such a bad mood?” Axelle inquired as they drove through the traffic to the station. “Was he mad at you?”

“Just a little bit.” She smoothed the coppery curls as Hilary had done for her so long ago, and she smiled now at the distant memory of her sister. She was excited now at the prospect of seeing them again. She just hoped that Chapman would find them soon, and that she would be able to get away to see them. But Axelle didn't give her the time to ponder it as they drove through Paris.

“Papa didn't look a ‘little bit’ mad to me. He looked very mad. Did you do something terrible, Maman?” Alexandra smiled and took Axelle's hand in her own. It was going to be nice to get to the Riviera, and perhaps nice too to have a few weeks breather from her husband.

“I only did something a little bit foolish.”

“Like when you bought the hat he hated with all the feathers and the veil?” Axelle had loved it, and Henri had made Alexandra send it back the same day.

“Something like that.”

“Did you buy another hat?”

“Hmm … yes … uh … sort of …”

“Was it pretty?”

“Oh yes.” Alexandra smiled at her youngest child, “Very.”

Axelle smiled up at her with obvious pleasure as they reached the station.





Chapter 23




The material they had dug up on Hilary in John's absence was excellent and he was immensely pleased. They had found her enrollment in night school, her job at the employment agency, and from there they had followed her to CBA. It was perfect. They had everything they needed, and as Chapman looked through the file, he realized that they had been right the first time. It was the right Hilary Walker he'd spoken to when he called her at CBA, and it was equally obvious she didn't want to be found. So be it, he would wait until he found Megan, and then confront her himself. For the moment, he would let her think she had lost him.

But as he thought of her, he felt that same odd tug in his heart he felt every time he read her file. He wanted to tell her that everything was all right, that people still cared about her, that she could stop running. It was terrible to think about her angry and alone, and then he realized that there might be a lot more to her current life than he knew. He ordered his assistant to begin a full-scale investigation of Hilary Walker at CBA Network. She could be married, divorced, have six children of her own. The broken little girl he had been following from Boston to Jacksonville to New York might well be leading a happy life now. And for the most part, he hoped so. And yet, he knew that he would not feel at peace about her until he met her. It was crazy, but he was obsessed by the women in his case, their lives, and their good and bad fortunes. So much so that he called his ex-wife, and asked her to lunch, and tried to press her into explaining to him again how she felt about her characters when she was writing.

“Do you ever fall in love with them, Ellie?” He looked at her in confusion, as they sat next to the fountain at the Four Seasons. It was where all the city's publishing notables ate lunch and he knew it was her favorite place, even though he still preferred the sensual, artsy chaos of the Russian Tea Room. But Eloise was a different girl. She was tall and cool and controlled, she had masterminded a successful career and done it brilliantly, and she seemed better suited to the cool marble and discreet fountains of the Four Seasons.

“Fall in love with them? What do you mean? Are you thinking of writing a book?” She looked amused and he shook his head.

“No, I'm just working on this crazy investigation. It goes back about thirty years, and the people are so damn real to me, I can't think straight anymore. I dream about them at night … I think about them in the daytime … little girls who are practically middle-aged women now tear at my heart and I want to help them.”

“It sounds more like food poisoning than love.” She grinned, and then she reached out and patted his hand sympathetically. She still liked him. They had lunch with each other a couple of times a year, and he had even introduced her to Sasha, but Eloise had told him bluntly on the phone the next day that she thought he could do a lot better. “You got it bad, kid. Sounds like you ought to write a book about it.”

“No one would believe the story. And besides, I can't. That's not my bag. You know that. It's just that it's driving me crazy. How can people on paper become real?”

“Somehow they do.”

“Do they finally go away?”

“Yes, when you resolve it.” She said reassuringly, eating her salad. “When I finish a book, the characters finally disappear. For good. But before that, they drive me crazy, it's like being haunted.”

“That's it!” He waved his fork at her. “That's it exactly!” He was being haunted by Hilary, and when he wasn't being tormented by Hilary, he was thinking of Alexandra. He had called her as soon as he was sure that it was Hilary at the network, and she had been jubilant. Now she was waiting for news of Megan, and John had been putting pressure on all his operatives to speed it up, because Patterson seemed to be fading. “What do I do to get rid of this thing? It's driving me crazy.”