In the Shadows (The Outsiders Book 1) (9 page)

She
eventually drifted in and out of sleep, but her memories and her nightmares intertwined so that she wasn’t sure which was worse—sleeping or lying awake. In her latest nightmare, she was still in London, in a room that at first looked like her bedroom but which she knew was the Old Bailey. Dave was questioning her relentlessly and causing her to break down and finally confess to make him stop.

She woke up and jerked to a sitting position, trembling and
covered in perspiration. After throwing off her covers, she lay back down, her eyes wide open but still seeing the images as if she were back in the nightmare. Stop it, she told herself. It’s your subconscious mind playing with you, seizing Dave’s background and weaving it in with everything else.

But that knowledge didn’t
really help.

She
struggled to empty her mind, but the dream’s images wouldn’t go away, and she began shaking again. She didn’t know what time it was, but she sprang out of bed, grabbed her duffel bag, and started pulling out things that she could leave behind. Once the bag was lightened, she slung the strap over her shoulder, glanced at her sleeping bag, and decided to leave it behind. Carefully, she opened her door and peeked into the dark hallway. Stepping out the door, she made her way down the stairs as quietly as possible. One step squeaked. She jumped, then froze and listened. No lights came on. She continued downward. At the bottom of the stairs, she looked toward the kitchen. No sign of anyone. She headed for the front door and crashed straight into something.

Horrified, she stepped back, her mouth gaping open.

Dave was staring at her, though she couldn’t see his expression in the darkness. She braced herself, fearing his anger, and knowing that she deserved it after everything he’d done for her.

“Glad you’re up
already,” Dave said in a conversational tone. “I’m starved. How about you?”

Maurelle was too surprised to do more than nod.

“Why don’t you go on into the kitchen? I’ll take your bag back upstairs and meet you there.” 

Before she could say anything in response, Dave grabbed
the bag out of her hand and started up the stairs. Stopping on the second step, he turned to her. “You promised me that you wouldn’t disappear during the night.” 

“I
—I’m sorry,” she said.

He stared at her for a moment
before continuing up the stairs.

Maurelle closed her eyes. She could dash out the door without her bag, but what good would that do? She needed her money. Besides, he would only find her and bring her back. Re
signed, she turned and headed toward the kitchen in this house that she was beginning to loathe. She flipped on the light switch and gazed around the room. A display of copper pots and dried flowers were perched on a shelf above the range. Assorted everyday cooking utensils hung from hooks below the shelf, and ornately patterned tiles in earth tones formed a backsplash directly behind the stove. The whole cooking area might have been described as charming had she been in a more receptive mood. She felt a hand on her shoulder and jumped.

Dave said, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I didn’t hear you come in.”

He motioned for her to sit at the dinner table, while he turned on the faucet to get water for the coffee pot.

Maurelle sat down, again looking at more of the kitchen decor, from the shiny walnut cabinetry and the elegant table made from the same wood to the intricately appointed chairs caned in green, tan, and black stripes. She had only vaguely noticed the furnishings during the tense lunch yesterday, but seeing them now, she decided the whole room had a kind of French country air, yet was current and could even be described as gourmet classy. The smell of the coffee now brewing added to that atmosphere.

When Dave sat
down next to her, she cringed inwardly, expecting his anger to spill out.

“I hope you slept well,”
he said. “Coffee’s nearly ready. Would you like some?”

She nodded,
and studied his face, noting the creases in his forehead, the warning cloud that he seemed to be struggling to reign in.

“Dave,” she whispered, “I truly am sorry. I appreciate what you’ve done for me. But I don’t want to be a burden nor do I want you or your grandmother getting entangled in my problems.”

He looked into her eyes as if he were trying to read her mind and Maurelle fought against the impulse to look away.

“You’re not a burden. At least not yet,” he said. “
But please don’t try to leave without talking.”

“
All right, I won’t. I promise”

He gave her a smile and stood, returning a couple
of minutes later with two cups of steaming coffee as his grandmother suddenly fluttered into the room.

“I smelled coffee.”

Dave smiled and handed one of the cups to her. He went back to the coffee to pour another cup.

“When I’ve finished my coffee, I’ll prepare my specialty,” Fabienne said. She faced Maurelle
squarely. “Crêpes. I hope you enjoy them. Strawberry confiture?”

“I’m sure I’ll love them.”

“Grand-mère is the best cook in the village. Everyone was disappointed when she sold her café, but I’m lucky. I still get to eat her scrumptious creations.”

Fabienne blushed and wagged her hand toward him. “My grandson exaggerates.”  

“Thing is, Grand-mère knows darn well that she can out-cook everyone around here, including Jeannette, who thinks she does everything best.”

Fabienne
set her cup down on the table and walked over to the refrigerator to gather the ingredients for her crêpes.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Maurelle asked.

“No, no, you relax. I’ll take care of everything.”

Half an hour later, as they began their meal, Maurelle said, “Dave was right. These are delicious.”

Fabienne beamed, and Maurelle couldn’t believe the change in her. Perhaps she’d misjudged the elderly woman. Of course, she told herself, it might also be Dave’s presence that made the difference—either in herself or in Fabienne. Throughout breakfast, everyone chatted and laughed, and Maurelle felt an unexpected lightness that she expected would be short-lived.

Dave whistled while
he cleared the breakfast table, then filled the sink with warm, soapy water and scrubbed the dirty dishes. With Maurelle in the bathroom taking a shower, and his grandmother upstairs straightening up, Dave had time to think about recent events.

Last night, after Maurelle had gone to bed, he’d waited up for his grandmother to come home. When she returned from her evening out, they talked long into the night,
mostly resolving their earlier impasse. He explained that he couldn’t walk away and not find out what was going on with Maurelle—was she a victim, perhaps being pursued by someone who wanted her dead, was she a runaway from an abusive situation, or was she a criminal?

Fabienne admitted that she still disapproved of his involvement with the girl, but she agreed to play hostess for a while because it was important to Dave. And besides, she shared his curiosity, if not his desire to play detective.

As for Maurelle, Dave had expected another escape attempt, and though he’d hoped he was wrong, he had taken the precaution of sleeping in the living room after Fabienne went upstairs to bed.

Even with Fabienne’s assurances that she would be more congenial, Dave was pleasantly surprised in the improved relationships between the women. Both were trying to get along. Fabienne had even invited Maurelle to use her washer and dryer, which made Maurelle so happy that she rushed upstairs, returning moments later with her bag full of dirty clothes.

A sudden noise behind him made Dave turn around. Fabienne had returned from upstairs, where she had gone to make her bed. She smiled, “Well, at least I’m getting something out of this. It’s about time you help with the dishes.”

“You know, I did try to help around the house when I first got here and thought you were dying. But you wouldn’t have it. You kept pushing me out the door to see Simone. I should have
suspected subterfuge then.” Dave chuckled as he shook his head.

She waved her hand at him.
Almost as an afterthought, she said, “If you aren’t too busy this afternoon, would you drive me to Vendome? Coralie said she’ll loan you her car.”

He frowned. “Why do you need to go there? I went to Vendome for you yesterday.”

“I have an appointment at the hospital.”

Dave stared at her in bewilderment. “Okay, now I’m confused. Didn’t you admit to me that you aren’t ill?”

She waved her arm again. “It’s nothing serious. Routine tests that I scheduled more than a month ago. Coralie was going to drive me, but her employee, Robert, called in sick and she has no else to cover for him in the store. I could cancel, I guess. Of course a woman my age can’t afford to miss too many doctor appointments.”

Dave rolled his eyes when Fabienne wasn’t looking. So she was playing the guilt card again.

He sighed. “All right. What time is your appointment?”

She clapped her hands together and smiled. “Two o’clock.”

“I’m sure Maurelle won’t mind getting out of the house for a while,” Dave said, smiling benignly.

Her face turned pink and she clenched her jaw, but said nothing.

The scenic drive
to Vendome proved more pleasant than Dave had expected. At first Fabienne pouted because he had brought Maurelle along, but later she surprised him by behaving herself and even acting friendly.

Fa
bienne’s routine tests include a mammogram, EKG, and bone density test. While Fabienne was undergoing the tests, Dave and Maurelle sat in the waiting room and chatted and continued to get better acquainted. But they both carefully avoided the hot topics.

Before returning home, the
trio did some light shopping. Afterward, Dave found a pleasant restaurant where the three of them lounged under a red and white umbrella on a terrace and talked about music, movies, and books while they ate a light dinner. Dave watched Maurelle as she relaxed, talking and laughing with Fabienne. He was amazed at the change in her. After her shower, she had styled her hair in a French-braid down her back, and dressed up in a white sleeveless blouse that nicely showed off her tanned skin, and a sky blue skirt that danced around lightly in the gentle summer breeze. But it wasn’t only her appearance that had changed over the past few days since he first saw her in the general store. She seemed calmer, more confident, and almost happy; though still she glanced round as though searching for or wanting to avoid someone.

When they returned to Reynier in the early evening, Dave dropped Fabienne and Maurelle off at the house and
drove Coralie’s car back to her house.

Afterwards,
hiking back to Fabienne’s, he pondered what to do for the rest of the evening. He really needed to spend time alone with Maurelle so that they could talk about her situation. But he admitted to himself that it wasn’t the only reason. He felt at ease with her and simultaneously on edge, excited in a way he never was with Simone. As he opened the arched door, a scraggly long-haired tan terrier similar to the one the other day outside the bakery, pounced on him, and he stumbled backwards, surprised.

“What the hell?” Dave straightened up and looked around, but didn’t see anyone. Bending down, he scooped up the young dog and strode into the kitchen where he found Fabienne and Simone sitting at the table drinking coffee and talking.

When they saw him, Simone stood and walked to him languidly. Leaning forward, she kissed him on both cheeks. “I see you’ve met our little guy. He’s been abandoned and I brought him for you.”

She smiled
innocently, but Dave wasn’t fooled.

“I don’t need a dog.” 

“But I thought you liked animals,” Simone said, “especially dogs. I thought you would be delighted.”

“Well, you thought wrong,” Dave said. “It’s not that I don’t like dogs. I had a dog for many years. But I can’t take care of a pet right now. So, I guess you’ve got yourself a dog.”

Simone pouted and put her hand on her hip. “I just—”

“Simone, I’m going back to Chicago soon. What do you expect me to do with the animal then?”

She shrugged. “I—we, Fabienne and I—hoped you might stay here longer.”

Without another word, he spun on his heel and stomped into the living room, nearly
smacking into Maurelle.

Maurelle looked surprised, but said nothing.

He grabbed her hand. “Come on. Get your shoes on. Let’s go for a walk.”

She hurried to the front door where her sneakers and her sandals lay
. After a short hesitation, she grabbed the sandals and, hopping on one foot at a time, wiggled into them quickly.

“Where are we going?”

“I haven’t the foggiest idea,” he said, chuckling. “I needed to get out of there. Did you see the dog?” He walked past a few houses and past the chateau. Café Charbonneau, which was closed at this hour, was coming up.

She nodded, giving him a sideways glance. “Was the woman Simone?”

“Didn’t my grandmother introduce you?”

“No,” she said, quietly. “When she arrived, there was
a lot of activity. They laughed and played with the dog. I watched for a few minutes, trying to stay out of the way, but went upstairs until just before you arrived.” She glanced at him as he paused and kicked at a rock. “You should probably be there with them, don’t you think?”

“I’m too angry right now.”

Maurelle looked confused.

“It’s a long story. Suffice it to say I don’t enjoy being treated like a little boy.”

A small smile touched her lips. “I have a hard time picturing you as a little boy.”

Dave grasped her elbow and led her off the road near the café and onto the path leading to the troglodyte houses.

“Where are we going?”

“Do you remember the cave I told you about—the one with the fossils?”

She nodded. “I thought you made up that story.”

“I want to take you there, if that’s okay. If I’m going to be treated as if I’m a kid, I’m going to act like one.”

Laughing, Maurelle rushed ahead, but he soon passed her by, with a quick look over his shoulder. He stopped, waited, then turned and climbed a narrow steep winding path. Near the top, he reached down and took her hand to help her navigate a particularly steep section of the path, scratching his arm on a thorny vine in the process. After a couple of more minutes of walking along a section of wall, he stopped and pushed away a mass of overgrown brush branches, and revealed a small cave opening. “Sorry it’s so overgrown. It’s been a long time since I was here last.” As he let go of the branches, they fell back in place, allowing very little light to filter beyond the cave entrance. He moved the branches aside again, only this time he secured them behind a rock jutting out at the side of the entrance to let in more light, but it was still rather dark inside the cave. “Too bad I didn’t think to bring a flashlight.”