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death of her poor young husband. She knew Nathan would have forgiven her the subterfuge. But when Eudora had taken Cali’s request under consideration like a woman with a waiting list of dozens,Cali had changed tactics, appealing to the woman’s more mercenary side.
    Eudora was typical of some of the French-descended population on the island in that she was cordial and hospitable, but only to a point. As had been Cali’s experience a decade before, those particular inhabitants operated with the understanding that while tourism played an important role in their economy, they didn’t have to like it. Especially when said tourists were Americans. She’d felt more tolerated than welcomed.
    Cali had spent long, frustrating, mostly unsuccessful hours trying to pry information out of the woman. Time she didn’t have. But Eudora was not a woman to be rushed.
    “Here you go,” she said, holding the cut plants out.
    The woman was beaming up at John. Not rushed perhaps, Cali thought, but courted … Well, that was one angle that had been unavailable to her. Until now.
    Without meeting her eyes, John smoothly relieved her of the heavy bouquet then turned back to Eudora. Cali reined in the urge to kick him. She knew he was trying to help. But who knew the man could smile convincingly, much less be charming? Where had all that charm been when she’d been bleeding to death and had needed soft words?
    All she’d gotten was ill-tempered orders to stop whining and get off her duff and get back to her life.She ignored the fact that his tactics had worked, where her doctor’s gentle care had not.
    “Quite an exotic bouquet.” John laid the flowers gently in Eudora’s waiting arms. “Your garden is—”
    “A mess,” Eudora finished bluntly. She turned, finally acknowledging Cali’s presence. “Cali here is slowly taming it. My son …” She purposely drifted off, lifting her shoulders in that world-weary way Cali imagined Gallic women had perfected centuries ago. “He lives all his life here, then three months ago—
poof!
He tells me his destiny is not on the island of his birth, where centuries of Magdelanes have resided, but in America.” She all but spat the last word, all the while holding their gazes with an arrogance that didn’t give the least indication she thought she might have offended them.
    Cali stilled. She’d wondered about Adrian, but the old woman had been characteristically silent on that subject. She turned to John, counting on him to charm more information out of his latest suspect.
    She frowned. John’s congenial smile was gone, replaced by the alert expression with which Cali was all too familiar.
    “Where did he move to?” he asked without preamble.
    Eudora’s dark eyes narrowed, her expression grew distant. “What is the difference?” She favored John with a brief once-over, her small sniff making it clear he was no longer in her favor. “Gone is gone.” She turned to Cali. “These will do,
chérie
. You will have the bird of paradise ready for tomorrow, no?”
    Cali stifled a sigh of disappointment and pulled out a smile. “No later than early afternoon, if that’s okay.”
    The woman nodded and stepped to the door. She paused briefly. She didn’t have to look at John to make her expectations understood.
    John felt Cali’s stare drilling him in the back. But he knew better than to push the old woman. He’d blown it big time. But he could grill Eudora on her absent son another time. Right now he wanted to know what was in that box. He opened the screen. “A pleasure to meet you,” he said, not expecting a response. He wasn’t disappointed.
    “Thank you for delivering the package,” Cali called out from just behind his shoulder. Eudora merely lifted her flower-laden arms in response and continued to trudge along the cobblestone path that led back to the nearby village of Aleria.
    “Quite a character,” John commented.
    He turned in time to catch Cali’s somewhat smug smile.