Read In Their Footsteps & Thief of Hearts for Free Online Page B

mother, like daughter. He remembered that Madeline had been just as unswerving, just as unstoppable.
    Just as enchanting.
    He shook off those haunting memories of a long-dead woman and said, “How much do they know?”
    “They have seen my report. They know about Delphi.”
    “So they’ll be digging in all the right places.”
    “All the dangerous places,” amended Daumier.
    Richard sat up on the side of the bed and clawed his fingers through his hair as he considered the possibilities.
    The perils.
    “Hugh is concerned for their safety,” said Daumier. “So am I. If what we think is true—”
    “Then they’re walking into quicksand.” 50
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    “And Paris is dangerous enough as it is,” added Daumier, “what with the latest bombing.”
    “How is Marie St. Pierre, by the way?”
    “A few scratches, bruises. She should be released from the hospital tomorrow.”
    “Ordnance report back?”
    “Semtex. The upper apartment was completely demol-ished. Luckily Marie was downstairs when the bomb went off.”
    “Who’s claiming responsibility?”
    “There was a telephone call shortly after the blast. It was a man, said he belonged to some group called Cosmic Solidarity. They claim responsibility.”
    “Cosmic Solidarity? Never heard of that one.”
    “Neither have we,” said Daumier. “But you know how it is these days.”
    Yes, Richard knew only too well. Any wacko with the right connections could buy a few ounces of Semtex, build a bomb, and join the revolution—any revolution. No wonder his business was booming. In this brave new world, terrorism was a fact of life. And clients everywhere were willing to pay top dollar for security.
    “So you see, my friend,” said Daumier, “it is not a good time for Bernard’s children to be in Paris. And with all the questions they will ask—”
    “Can’t you keep an eye on them?”
    “Why should they trust me? It was my report in that file.
    No, they need another friend here, Richard. Someone with sharp eyes and unerring instincts.”
    “You have someone in mind?”
    “I hear through the grapevine that you and Miss Tavistock shared a degree of…simpatico?” In Their Footsteps
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    “She’s way too rich for my blood. And I’m too poor for hers.”
    “I do not usually ask for favors,” said Daumier quietly.
    “Neither does Hugh.”
    And you’re asking for one now, thought Richard. He sighed. “How can I refuse?”
    After he’d hung up, he sat for a moment contemplating the task ahead. This was a baby-sitting job, really—the sort of assignment he despised. But the thought of seeing Beryl Tavistock again, and the memory of that kiss they’d shared in the garden, was enough to make him grin with anticipation. Way too rich for my blood, he thought. But a man can dream, can’t he? And I do owe it to Bernard and Madeline.
    Even after all these years, their deaths still haunted him.
    Perhaps the time had come to close the mystery, to answer all those questions he and Daumier had raised twenty years ago. The same questions MI6 and Central Intelligence had firmly suppressed.
    Now Beryl Tavistock was poking her aristocratic nose into the mess. And a most attractive nose it was, he thought. He hoped it didn’t get her killed.
    He rose from the bed and headed for the shower. So much to do, so many preparations to make before he headed to the airport.
    Baby-sitting jobs—how he hated them.
    But at least this one would be in Paris.
    Anthony Sutherland stared out his airplane window and longed fervently for the flight to be over and done with.
    Of all the rotten luck to be booked on the same Air France flight as the Vanes! And then to be seated straight across 52
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    the first-class aisle from them—well, this really was intolerable. He considered Reggie Vane a screaming bore, especially when intoxicated, which at the moment Reggie was well on the way to becoming. Two whiskey sours and the man was starting to babble about how much he