Austin sobered up. For him a woman’s tears have always been her best weapon, and Madeline’s tears were hitting him hard. Austin took back the article, placed the documents he had removed back into the envelope, and gave the envelope to Madeline.
“Okay, you are in charge of the information and the files until we get back.”
Madeline looked out the window and then at Austin. She took the files and placed them back in her bag. “Austin, if you look at this information even once the whole time we are gone, I will kill you, and then you will have to go back to Paris by yourself.” Austin laughed and held out his hand to Madeline, signifying that they had a deal.
Soon the announcement was made that the train would shortly arrive in Nice. A car had been reserved, and within minutes they were on their way south to Antibes. Madeline knew the Mediterranean coast of France, and the location she had found for their getaway was really special. The view of the ocean was beautiful, and the accommodations were perfect, especially if one had romance on there mind. It was about seven o’clock when they had finished unpacking, and they had time to sit on the rooftop patio and take in the world before them. Austin was seated in a big wicker chair when Madeline came up behind him, put her hands over his eyes, and said, “Guess who?”
“Well, let me guess. It had better be Madeline, because if it is not, she will be very mad at me.”
“You are so right. Now guess what I am thinking about right now.”
“Well, it is either wine or something that I should not talk about in mixed company.”
“Oh, you can talk about this with anyone you want.”
“Okay, I bet you are wondering if I am going to take you to dinner.”
“Oh, you are so smart. And besides, there is no food here, so let’s go.”
The walk down the hill to the town took about ten minutes. It was a warm summer evening with a light breeze. Many of the shops and restaurants along the water’s edge were lit up in lights that outlined the buildings. It was clear that Antibes was a hangout for France’s wealthy. The shops had only the finest products, along with the highest prices Austin could imagine. The air was filled with the smells of food, and Madeline knew exactly where she was going.
They were seated at a table in a small restaurant overlooking the sea. The sound of small waves running up on the shore provided the background music. Even Austin, who was not always easy to impress, knew that Madeline had outdone herself. The waiter arrived, and Madeline took the lead and ordered a wine that she knew well. After the waiter poured the first glass for both of them, Madeline raised her glass and proposed a toast.
“Thank you for joining me here, and here’s to a fun month,” said Madeline. “This is going to be great, and you need a break. I am sorry that I gave you a hard time on the train. Sometimes you get so committed to things that you get crazy, and with everything else that has happened, I just could not take your nonstop enthusiasm. It is like you are in one of your football games. I just wanted us to have some time together without searching for the dreams of dead people.”
“Hey, I understand. I am yours until Sabine sends us more information,” said Austin with a laugh.
Dinner was great. Madeline introduced Austin to some local specialties and to a great dessert that could only be found at this restaurant. After dinner Austin and Madeline stopped by a small store to buy some wine, coffee, pastries, and other staples for the morning. That night Austin and Madeline sat on the rooftop under the stars and sipped wine until about two, and then Madeline dragged Austin to his fate in bed.
The morning came with incredible sunshine and a warm breeze from over the mountains. Austin got up while Madeline slept and made some coffee and explored the bag of pastries. He looked out over the shoreline and began to think about his relationship with Madeline. For weeks he had been afraid of getting in too deep too soon, but now he was running out of excuses. As he sipped his coffee, Madeline joined him on the rooftop patio and said, “Is there any coffee for me?”
Austin looked at Madeline—all of Madeline.
“Hey, you’re naked,” he said with a laugh.
“I need some sun, and I need some coffee.”
Austin looked around to see if anyone could see Madeline in her current condition, but it looked like their seclusion was secure.
“What if someone sees you?”
“Listen, in France people may not all agree on this or that, but on many topics we are very tolerant. And I am on vacation. Do you want me to get dressed?”
“What do you want in your coffee?” replied Austin.
The first week was perhaps the most relaxing time Austin had ever experienced. Madeline knew the area and showed Austin the sights and the beaches. On Thursday they had lunch with one of Madeline’s old friends that she knew from her years in Antibes. Early on Friday morning, Austin made a few phone calls and made a reservation. At about nine, Austin gave Madeline the good news.
“Madeline, I just made a reservation for something you are going to love.”
Madeline looked at Austin with no idea what he was talking about. “A reservation?” she said, concerned.
“Hey, our reservation is for twelve, and it will be great.”
Madeline continued to worry, because with all of his words, she still did not know what he was talking about. “Are you going to tell me what the reservation is for?” she said with a little bit of an attitude.
“I rented a sailboat for us. I am going to take you on a sailing cruise.”
“A
sailboat?
” Madeline said.
“Hey, it is a nice seven-meter boat, and it will be very nice. You look concerned.”
Madeline looked at the floor and did not say a word, and Austin knew that there was a problem.
“Austin,” she said, “I do not like boats. Especially sailboats, because they can tip over.
“I am a very good sailor, and I promise I will not tip the boat over,” said Austin.
“Austin, I cannot swim.”
“We will get you a life jacket. I promise you will float like a cork.”
Madeline looked at Austin, wanting to agree to his adventure. She agreed, but her heart was not in it.
* * *
Austin handled the boat with precision. The breeze was steady from the west. He could have gone faster, but he was in no hurry, and Madeline seemed well satisfied as they slowly worked their way north. Madeline sat on the windward side of the vessel, wearing her life jacket and now realizing that she was not about to die. The life jacket was not a fashion statement, but it helped Madeline remain calm. Austin gave Madeline a chance to man the tiller and steer the boat, and for a short while she might have admitted that she was actually having fun. When Austin announced that it was time to come about and return to port, Madeline had mixed emotions. The voyage was not as horrible as expected, but she had had enough. After docking, the couple found a harbor-side table in a small cafe to eat a late lunch.
“So when was the last time you were on a sailboat?” Austin asked, trying to find a reason to praise Madeline’s performance.
“I was never on a sailboat, because it just did not look safe to me, and I never really had an opportunity.”
“Never? Wow. I was raised on a sailboat. When I was fifteen, I sailed with my father and some of his friends to Bermuda and back. The next year we sailed to the Bahamas.”
“You’re insane,” said Madeline. “The ocean is full of big waves and big fish and sharks and stuff. I would never do that.”
“Well, you did fine today. I am proud of you.”
With lunch over, Madeline led Austin from shop to shop along the edge of the harbor. It was a relaxed afternoon, and then it happened.
It was a subtle feeling but one that Austin reacted to quickly. There was a hand in his pocket, and it was not his. He quickly reached into his front pocket and wrapped his hand around two fingers that were trying to lift his wallet. When traveling, Austin always kept his wallet in his front pocket. It was an old navy trick his father had taught him, but it did not seem to stop every pickpocket. Austin tried to break the fingers and do severe damage to the owner. When he turned around, he found that the fingers belonged to a small gypsy man who screamed out in pain. Austin was not concerned about his adversary’s pain and tightened his viselike grip, easily breaking both fingers.
Suddenly an old woman shoved her knitting needles up toward Austin’s face, trying to protect her husband while shouting, “We are not thieves!”
Austin was not one to beat up women, but he quickly released the old man’s broken fingers and punched the old woman in the face. Both of the pickpockets lay on the sidewalk. Madeline screamed, “Austin, stop!”
A third pickpocket avoided Austin and came to the aid of the other two. Madeline grabbed Austin’s arm in an effort to stop him from hitting his victims again. Austin turned to address Madeline and then turned back to the people who had tried to steal from him. They were gone. Gone!
Madeline held tightly to Austin’s arm. “Did they get your wallet?”
“No. I still have it, but I am pissed, and I wanted to beat the crap out of those two.”
“Austin, I think you did a good job already, so just let it go.”
Madeline and Austin stood on the sidewalk with several people around them. The show was over, but emotions were still high.
“Austin, I hate to tell you,” said Madeline, “but you set yourself up for the pickpockets.”
“I did?” said Austin in disbelief.
“It was not your fault, but they must have spotted you from the other side of town. You are wearing a NC State baseball cap, a green golf shirt with some name on it, white shorts, and white sneakers. You just do not look like a Frenchman. You look like a tourist—the gypsies’ favorite target, because tourists don’t prosecute. Pickpockets usually go after smaller, older people, and they can be a problem, but you cannot apply cowboy justice. You cannot just find a tree and hang those people.”
“Madeline, if thieves got the crap beat out of them every time they tried to steal from somebody, they would go out and find real jobs. And a few hangings wouldn’t hurt.”
“It must be an American thing, Austin, but it is not the way we think over here.”
Austin didn’t want to argue, but somehow he didn’t think that Madeline understood. “Madeline, my sister was in Lisbon two years ago, and she watched three girls try to pickpocket some tourists. She went up to the tourists and warned them, and then she went to the cops on the corner. The cops did not want to get involved. Everybody knew it was going on, but no one wanted to stop it. I do not know how Europeans put up with it.”
The exchange put a damper on the rest of the day. Austin was disappointed that he had not done more damage, and he was also disappointed that Madeline had put him on trial. Madeline had never seen Austin being physical and willing to hurt another person. For the first time in their relationship, things did not go well.
On Friday evening things began to get back to normal. Each had learned a little more about the other, and although there were still some uncomfortable feelings, there was so much more between them. Austin was beginning to worry that the four weeks they had planned might not be enough.
On Friday night, Madeline’s cell phone rang. She looked at the phone and did not recognize the number. She answered and immediately regretted doing so.
“Madeline, this is Claude Badeau. How is your vacation going?”
Madeline’s mind raced. What did Badeau want? “It has been wonderful,” she said, hoping that would cover his needs.
“I learned that you were the one that found Henri, and I hope you have recovered. It must have been a horrible experience.”
“It was not good, Claude. It was horrible, but I am okay now.”
“Madeline, I have some news that you might want to know. I am in Nice, and I will be having a dinner with two art investors tomorrow night and we would love to have you join us. This meeting may have some real benefits to you, and we hope you are available. I am guessing you are in the area, and it would be great if you could join us.”
“Claude, I am confused. How might this help me, and couldn’t it wait until we return to Paris?”
“This opportunity just popped up, and the schedule is very short. Can we expect you?”
“How did you know that I was on the coast?” asked Madeline, who was now concerned about what else Badeau might know.
“I saw a note on Sabine’s desk, and I assumed that you were at that place you told me you loved so much to visit with your sister.”
“Claude, I will have to get back to you. Why don’t you send me an e-mail with a little more information, and I will check my schedule.”
“Fine. I think that since you are only minutes away, this will be a great way to meet these people and have a great dinner.”
Madeline hung up the phone, angry for having answered the call.
“Who was that?” asked Austin.
“That was Badeau. He wants to drag me into a meeting with some art people in Nice tomorrow night.”
“Does he know that I am here with you?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Are you going?”
“I hate him so much. I will make up some excuse and get out of it.”
Austin sat back for a few seconds before saying, “I think we should go. We know that Badeau has been sniffing around our activities with Feret, and we know that he is not our friend. The worst case is that we get a free dinner. If he is just expecting you and I show up, it will throw him off his game. It could be fun.”
“You find fun in some odd places. I came here to relax and have fun with you, not to deal with him.”
“Hey, it is only one night.”
The next night came quickly. Austin and Madeline drove up to Nice early, so that Madeline could do some shopping and show Austin around. With the sun still high in the sky, they walked along the pebble beach that Nice is famous for and took in the sights of the modern city. At eight o’clock Austin parked the car, and they walked to the restaurant. The Maitre d’ lead the couple to a private room that Badeau had reserved. Madeline entered the room first, which was occupied by Badeau and two other men. Although Badeau was gracious to Madeline, it was clear that he had not expected Austin. He greeted Austin, who explained that Madeline had offered to give him a tour of the French coast, but he did not elaborate. Badeau introduced Austin and Madeline to a fat man with rings on all of his fingers; his name was Andre Bertrand, and his associate was known as Simon, but Austin did not catch his last name.