about to put on his shoes and leave for the hospital when the door to the apartment opened, and Renee entered with her arms full of bundles.
“You’re awake!” she exclaimed.
“Where have you been?” Zack asked.
She laughed. Her laughter sounded like music to Zack. “I had some errands to do,” she told him. She put the bundles down and looked at her watch. “It’s almost noon. Time for some lunch. I have some sliced turkey in the fridge. We’ll have some sandwiches and wine. Is that okay with you?”
“Maybe we should go back to the hospital,” Zack suggested.
“I checked while I was out and they told me your friend is still resting. They said not to come back for a couple of hours. We have to eat.” She went into the kitchen.
Zack took the bundles from her and followed her into the kitchen. “Let me help,” he said. “I’m used to this. Bachelors have to fend for themselves. I’ve done it for years.”
“You’re not married?”
“Never have been,” Zack told her.
“Why not?”
“Never found the right one. I’m still looking—at my age.” He laughed, thinking how ridiculous it must have sounded to her.
“Neither have I,” she told him. “And I’m still looking—at my age,” she said, laughing. She sliced some French bread. “Here, you can warm the bread in the oven. I turned it on.”
As soon as the bread was warmed Rene put some slices of turkey on two pieces, some cheese, and mayonnaise. She covered these with the other two slices and cut them in half. She reached up in the cupboard, took down two goblets, filled them with delicious French wine, and took them into the living room. Zack brought the sandwiches and deposited them on the coffee table. They sat down on the sofa where they’d be comfortable while they ate their sandwiches and sipped their wine.
Zack looked a little sheepish. “Sorry for the way I broke down this morning. I’ve never done that before.”
“Hey, he’s your friend. You’ve known him for a long time. There’s nothing to apologize for. You care. Period.”
“Thanks.” Zack was quiet for a moment, thinking. “Tell me about yourself. What did you do before you became a cop?”
“I was a model for a number of years for the leading department stores here in Paris,” she answered in between bites of her sandwich. “Then I got too old. I’ve always wanted to help people, so I decided the best thing I could do was to become a gendarme—a cop, as you say in America.” She looked at him searchingly. “How did you happen to become a detective?”
Zack smiled. “Same reason you became a cop. I wanted to help people.”
Renee was silent for a long moment, then looked directly at Zack. “I’ve tried to be patient, but I think while we’re waiting it’s time you told me why you’re here and what Gus has to do with it. The whole story. I’m not prying. There’s been an attempted murder in my precinct. I need to know what I’m investigating and why. Besides,”—she looked at him coyly—“it’s a good excuse to find out all about you—what makes you tick. I’m sure you’ve had a very interesting life and I want to hear all about it.”
Zack proceeded to tell her about his dear friends in the States; how he met them, all about Hildy and Jay, Cammie and Jeremy, Andre and Fran—and now Courtney. And why Gus was here. “I have the most awful premonition that Courtney is walking into the same kind of trap that Hildy and Cammie did. I don’t know how or why. It’s probably off the wall, but I’ve learned to listen to these feelings when they come. So far, I’ve never been wrong.”
Renee listened with rapt attention as Zack told her everything.
“Manny Kasnov introduced himself to us at the airport as we were boarding the plane here in Paris,” Zack continued. “That’s probably not his real name. Gus told me that Manny has used several aliases. Gus was trying to tell me something else when someone attacked him. Until he
“You’re awake!” she exclaimed.
“Where have you been?” Zack asked.
She laughed. Her laughter sounded like music to Zack. “I had some errands to do,” she told him. She put the bundles down and looked at her watch. “It’s almost noon. Time for some lunch. I have some sliced turkey in the fridge. We’ll have some sandwiches and wine. Is that okay with you?”
“Maybe we should go back to the hospital,” Zack suggested.
“I checked while I was out and they told me your friend is still resting. They said not to come back for a couple of hours. We have to eat.” She went into the kitchen.
Zack took the bundles from her and followed her into the kitchen. “Let me help,” he said. “I’m used to this. Bachelors have to fend for themselves. I’ve done it for years.”
“You’re not married?”
“Never have been,” Zack told her.
“Why not?”
“Never found the right one. I’m still looking—at my age.” He laughed, thinking how ridiculous it must have sounded to her.
“Neither have I,” she told him. “And I’m still looking—at my age,” she said, laughing. She sliced some French bread. “Here, you can warm the bread in the oven. I turned it on.”
As soon as the bread was warmed Rene put some slices of turkey on two pieces, some cheese, and mayonnaise. She covered these with the other two slices and cut them in half. She reached up in the cupboard, took down two goblets, filled them with delicious French wine, and took them into the living room. Zack brought the sandwiches and deposited them on the coffee table. They sat down on the sofa where they’d be comfortable while they ate their sandwiches and sipped their wine.
Zack looked a little sheepish. “Sorry for the way I broke down this morning. I’ve never done that before.”
“Hey, he’s your friend. You’ve known him for a long time. There’s nothing to apologize for. You care. Period.”
“Thanks.” Zack was quiet for a moment, thinking. “Tell me about yourself. What did you do before you became a cop?”
“I was a model for a number of years for the leading department stores here in Paris,” she answered in between bites of her sandwich. “Then I got too old. I’ve always wanted to help people, so I decided the best thing I could do was to become a gendarme—a cop, as you say in America.” She looked at him searchingly. “How did you happen to become a detective?”
Zack smiled. “Same reason you became a cop. I wanted to help people.”
Renee was silent for a long moment, then looked directly at Zack. “I’ve tried to be patient, but I think while we’re waiting it’s time you told me why you’re here and what Gus has to do with it. The whole story. I’m not prying. There’s been an attempted murder in my precinct. I need to know what I’m investigating and why. Besides,”—she looked at him coyly—“it’s a good excuse to find out all about you—what makes you tick. I’m sure you’ve had a very interesting life and I want to hear all about it.”
Zack proceeded to tell her about his dear friends in the States; how he met them, all about Hildy and Jay, Cammie and Jeremy, Andre and Fran—and now Courtney. And why Gus was here. “I have the most awful premonition that Courtney is walking into the same kind of trap that Hildy and Cammie did. I don’t know how or why. It’s probably off the wall, but I’ve learned to listen to these feelings when they come. So far, I’ve never been wrong.”
Renee listened with rapt attention as Zack told her everything.
“Manny Kasnov introduced himself to us at the airport as we were boarding the plane here in Paris,” Zack continued. “That’s probably not his real name. Gus told me that Manny has used several aliases. Gus was trying to tell me something else when someone attacked him. Until he
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