Read Little Death by the Sea for Free Online Page B

lucky man, Roger. Give me my
half of the money.”
    “Yes, yes, well, I suppose it’s just one of
the perks of the job. Next time, you go out and get muck up your
pant legs and I’ll stay back to comfort the dove, eh what?”
    “Whatever you say, Roger. Where did you find
the little girl?”
    “Right where I said I’d find her. You know
the place. Does it matter?”
    Laurent shrugged and counted his French
francs.
    “Don’t trust me, Laurent?”
    “Anyone can make the miscalculation, Roger.
Do not be offended.” He looked at his friend and smiled. “And I
think we have miscalculated how long this business would take
place.”
    “What are you saying?”
    “I think I need to go to America to finish
our business.”
    “Finish our...? Oh, I see. Well, that’s up to
you, of course.” Roger stood up and dropped a few coins onto the
table. He reached down and finished off his Campari and soda. “But
I’d be careful, old man. They do things quite differently in
America. Take it from me.” He clapped the big Frenchman on the
shoulder. “Quite bloody differently.”
    3
    Maggie scanned the crowd at Hartsfield
International Airport for her parents. Big John and diminutive,
auburn-haired Elspeth, the Southern beauty queen, the Newberry
matriarch.
    She glanced down at her charge who huddled by
her side. Nicole looked even less like a blood relation this
morning, Maggie thought. She was so dark—more like Maggie—while the
rest of the Newberrys were fair—but unlike Maggie or her family,
Nicole’s features were blunt and full. Her eyes were round as an
owl’s and dark, like unfathomable, bottomless pools. Her face was
oval and her chestnut brown hair cascaded to her shoulders in an
unruly curtain. She was a pretty child, Maggie decided. Perhaps
even beautiful.
    The child had spoken not a word the whole
trip. She’d given no indication that she needed to go to the
lavatory, wanted water, was hungry, was fatigued, or even fearful.
Nothing. She had sat in her seat, her new, airport-bought outfit
making her look like a refugee from Disneyland, and stared out the
window of the airplane. Maggie had spoken to her in French and then
English. No response.
    Maggie thought she saw a glimpse of her
mother’s beautiful hair, tucked—but not quite hidden away—under a
long blue silk scarf and she began to usher Nicole in that
direction. She saw her father standing next to her mother and she
waved. They looked fretful as their eyes searched the crowd for
her. She watched them, her waving hand faltering a bit. In a flash,
she realized that they were not really looking for Nicole. She
could see the look in their eyes. In a strange, inexplicable way,
they thought they would see Elise. Maggie’s hand dropped to her
side and she felt sick with the intensity of her parents’ grief and
longing. She looked down at Nicole, who stood motionless beside
her, her little face set against the crowd, against Maggie. They
would not find their Elise here, Maggie thought sadly.
    “Maggie! Darling! John, she’s over here.”
Maggie looked up quickly and smiled at them. She propelled the
child forward and Nicole walked robot-like into the arms of her
maternal grandparents.
    “Darling, you’re here!” Maggie felt her
Mother’s hug, and the light, familiar scent of Chanel No. 5.
    “Yes, yes, we’re here,” Maggie said as she
watched her mother bend over to greet Nicole. Elspeth touched the
child without hesitation, ignoring Nicole’s unfriendly response of
jerking her head away to stare down the long airport corridor.
Elspeth smiled at the child with true joy and hugged her to her.
Maggie could see Nicole stiffen but she did not totally resist the
hug.
    “Long flight, darling?” Maggie’s father
leaned over and quickly gave her a squeeze.
    “Not too bad,” Maggie said. “Well, here she
is. She doesn’t speak any English. Nicole? Ceci ton grandmere et
grandpere, comprends-toi ? Maggie straightened up and shook her
head. She’s been