The Double Rose (10 page)

“What will she do?”

“Your sister is going to be fine and so are the kids.”

The confidence in Sophie's voice was reassuring to Marie.

“Divorce is tragic but not as harmful as the constant negative energy produced by the marriage she was in. It is not that an unhealthy marriage cannot be healed, but it takes two willing parties to do it.”

The women admired the bridal finery on display in the front window of the boutique.

“No one can make a healthy, balanced marriage alone,” Sophie continued. “Derrick emotionally divorced her years ago. This will be a hard journey, but in the end, Geneviéve will come out of this a stronger woman, and she will have the opportunity to find a man who complements the wonderful woman she has become.”

Sophie pointed to a crystal wedding crown perched on a blue satin pillow. “Am I crazy, or is that the crown that Eliza wants? They told her they could not get it back in Kansas City.”

“I think you’re right.”

“I am going to text a photo of it to her to be sure.” Sophie opened her purse to retrieve her cell phone. “What good luck to stumble on it like this. It will be especially fun for her to have us personally import it from Paris. With Mike and Eliza’s rush wedding, there certainly is not going to be any time to search for it.”

After receiving a confirmation from Eliza, they entered the bridal boutique and were greeted by an attentive saleslady.

“You have a lovely shop.”

“Merci, madame. When is your daughter’s wedding?”

“September 15.” Sophie carefully held the sparkling bridal crown as if it were worth a million dollars.

“So soon and she has not yet found her headpiece?” The young clerk sounded surprised.

“Her young man proposed only recently. Their engagement is short because his grandmother is very elderly and not doing well. His parents were killed in a car accident when he was a toddler; consequently, she raised him. It is important to them for her to be at their wedding.”

“I understand completely. I wish them joy and happiness.”

“Merci, mademoiselle.”

As the women exited the boutique, Sophie glowed with delight while she carefully carried her parcel of unexpected treasure.

Marie hailed a cab. Once they were situated in the back seat, she glanced in awe at her mother for several minutes. “How do you do it, Maman?”

“Do what, darling?”

“Smoothly transition from the anguish of one daughter’s failed marriage and upcoming divorce to the exuberance of another daughter’s wedding details. . . . You are perfect.”

Sophie laughed. “I am not, but I will take that as a challenge. You know,
chérie,
I was not always sixty years old with a head full of white hair. I was young once, too, and learned from my share of mistakes. I had to overcome exactly as you have. I am proud of the amazing woman you are.”

Marie’s perspective slightly shifted as a result of spending the afternoon with her mother. She was now willing to consider Josh’s interpretation of her dream. “Maman, Josh said that I should consider the possibility that the tattoo on the man in my dream was symbolic and not literal. Do you think he could be correct?”

“Yes, I do. Dreams are usually symbolic.” The cab stopped for a red light only a few blocks from the hotel. “Maybe I will return Josh’s call after all,” she said as she scrolled to the
J’s
.

“Excellent idea. While you are talking to Josh, I will call Nicole and see if she can spend a few days with Geneviéve. You know Nicole lights up a room when she walks into it. I am sure she can help Geneviéve through these first few rough days.”

Kansas City, Missouri

Saturday, 14 July

The ringtone “Forever and Ever Amen” interrupted the silence in Josh’s office. He leapt over an armchair, anxious to reach his neatly organized desk before Marie hung up. “Hello.”

“Hey, Josh. I'm returning your call.”

He smiled. Her voice sounded as sweet as honey tastes.

The screen saver on his desktop displayed a photograph of Josh and Marie as counselors. Anne had snapped the photo at camp five years earlier. It served as a symbol of his hope. He gazed at the image and let loose his incurable optimism. “I was hoping we could have dinner tonight.”

“Thanks, but that is impossible because I am in Paris.”

A hint of nervous energy resonated in her voice, but Josh did not care. She had taken one giant step toward him by returning his call.

“I decided to chase a vision I had last month and tag along with my parents to the annual harp conference.”

He enjoyed listening to the excitement build up as she spoke.

“There is an old estate in the south of France that I need to find.”

Her last sentence fell like a bomb, causing his mood to transform into profound grief. “After the warning from the F.B.I. about the P.D.A., you are going to scour the south of France on your own while your parents are at a conference in Paris?!” The deep tone of his voice resonated with power. At the present moment, it also served to accentuate his profound disapproval of her actions.

“Are you kidding me? How dare you talk to me as if I were five years old! I am an adult, Josh. I can take care of myself.”

While one hand held his cell phone, the other ran through his hair, but his eyes stayed focused on the image of Marie displayed on his computer monitor. “You are being irresponsible,” he stated point-blank.

“I am a capable woman, Josh,” her words sparked a fire as she defiantly defended herself.

“I never said you weren’t,” he softened his response. “In fact, I think you are the most intelligent, capable woman I have ever known.” After pausing for a second, he embellished his point with passion. “But you are not Superwoman. You are not bulletproof.” He sat in the chair, leaned forward, and stared blankly at the floor. Would pleading make a difference? “At this point, no one has any idea how dangerous the P.D.A. is. That is why the F.B.I. told you to take extra precautions. You are ignoring their warning.”

“I don’t need a lecture from you.” Her indignation skyrocketed! “And how do you know so much about what the F.B.I. said to me anyway?”

“Agent Willis visited me, too.”

“I am here. I am going. There is nothing you can say or do to change my mind. When I get back to Kansas City, we can get together and talk then. Goodbye.”

He made one last-ditch effort to penetrate her closed mind. “Geez Marie! You are confusing stubbornness for strength!”

“Goodbye, Josh.” Marie hung up, leaving him to ponder her searing reaction.

In a moment of frustration, Josh threw his cell phone into the leather couch across the room. Three seconds later, he regretted the indulgence of his keyed-up emotions.

He walked passed a painted garden hanging over a row of file cabinets to retrieve the catapulted phone. Marie donated the floral piece to a silent auction for a high school fund-raiser. Josh hoped she would never learn who overpaid for the piece. He sat down on a manly, square-edged couch in front of a fully windowed wall. Putting his elbows on his knees, he held his head in his hands, contemplating what to do next. His struggle with her stubbornness was soon interrupted when the office phone buzzed and forced him to return to his desk.

He reluctantly acknowledged the business at hand. “Yes, Thomas.”

“There is a guy out here who says he needs to talk to you right away. He claims it is important.”

“What firm is he with?”

“The P.D.A.”

Josh’s reluctance transformed into vested interest. “Send him in, but notify security to stand by.” He sat in his desk chair attempting to look as professional as possible in spite of the whirlwind swirling in his brain.

A tall, thin man in his late thirties entered the office with nervous steps and awkward mannerisms. Josh rose to greet him.

“Thanks for seeing me, Mr. Ryan. My name is Ralph Smith. I am a former member of the P.D.A.” The men shook hands, then Smith placed a hard-shell, black attaché case on the floor, and handed Josh his bland, institution-issued business card.

Josh attempted to study the mannerisms of the potentially dangerous man. He cautiously chose every word. “What can I do for you, Mr. Smith?”

“I hope I can do something for you.”

Josh was willing to give Smith a fair chance but was not going to be naive. He returned to his seat while Smith sat on the opposite side of the desk. “I am listening,” he coolly responded, hiding his suspicion.

“The news reported that Heff was the man who shot you.” Smith nervously grasped the chair’s arm with his right hand. “I knew him, and I would like to share some information with you.”

This was a tricky situation. He realized this may be an advantageous opportunity to gain an ally, but was not prepared to trust Smith on his opening remarks. “Why?” Josh asked as if it were the only natural response, without any hint of accusation or offense.

“After I fell in love, married, and became a father, I started to see the world differently.” Smith’s nervous apprehension was visible in his confession. “I was once part of the problem; now I want to be part of the solution. Marie Fitzroy’s vision resonated with me. I would like my children to grow up in her futuristic world. I tried to get this information to her directly, but she has not returned any of my calls.”

Josh nodded his head in sympathy to Smith’s communication plight. “Can you tell me more about the P.D.A.?”

The two men engaged in the battle of trust as they sat opposite each other, intently, but politely, studying the other.

Smith paused. “The P.D.A. was formed by a group of wealthy men in the early nineteenth century who felt it was their duty to ‘guide the uneducated masses,’ even though they were not elected officials.”

Smith was a community college American History teacher, and he sounded like one. Josh half expected him to pull out white chalk and a blackboard for his lecture. “The P.D.A. has shifted focus so much over the two hundred years it has been in operation that its original intent is irrelevant today. The leadership that took over the movement seven years ago is motivated by money—nothing else.”

Smith released his clutch-hold on the arm of the chair, then leaned over to pick up his briefcase. After placing it on his lap, he dialed the combination and flipped the lid.

Josh's attention fixed on Smith’s briefcase. “I appreciate your help. Can you tell me why the P.D.A., or Heff, would have targeted Ms. Fitzroy?”

“Again, it is all about money. Unfortunately, a dark element has infiltrated the organization, and, well, the reality is war is profitable for some industries. Ms. Fitzroy promotes a vision of global peace—not so profitable for these same industries.”

Josh briefly turned his focus away from Smith in order to catch another glimpse of Marie’s image on his monitor. Her safety was the focal point of his concern. It was a challenge to disconnect his mind from Marie’s lone crusade to completely concentrate on the content of Smith’s information.

Hoping that Smith would have some inside information that the F.B.I. would not share, Josh bluntly asked, “Do you think Heff acted on his own, or was he on assignment from the P.D.A.?”

Smith hesitated. “I have no personal knowledge of the P.D.A. operating outside the law. However,
 . . . they are proficient in using the law to create the conditions they want; lobbying and working behind the scenes to make changes.” He pulled out several neatly organized papers from his briefcase and placed them on the desk in front of Josh. “They are masters at social engineering and highly influential in Hollywood. I suspect that Heff went off on his own. But . . . ”

“But what?” Josh instantly reacted to Smith’s hesitation while examining the color-coded papers.

Names, locations, summaries. What am I looking for?
He shuffled through the papers.

“Well, I hesitate to say anything because I don’t have first-hand information, but one of my P.D.A. friends told me she was planning to leave soon because she was unhappy with the direction the organization was taking. She would not elaborate, but she alluded that someone is promoting the idea of seriously damaging property to scare people who are a threat to the mission of the movement.” As a hasty afterthought, he added, “I hope it's not true,” then pointed to the papers. “This is the most current information I have on the offices and membership of the P.D.A. I don’t know if it will be of any value to you, but it is yours if you want it.”

That was all Josh needed to hear. They scheduled an appointment for a second meeting. After Smith had left, Josh had a clear vision of what his next step must be. He picked up the phone and dialed.

“Hello, Chri
stophe, this is Josh Ryan ”

Chapter 10

The Awakening

Paris, France

Monday, 16 July

Christophe and Sophie ate an early breakfast with Marie before they left for the first session of the International Harp Competition of the Cité des Arts de Paris.

As Marie waited in the richly adorned lobby of the Ritz hotel for her rental car to arrive, she contemplated her mother’s plea to evaluate her opinion about Josh. Honeymooners and well-to-do travelers passed her by as she occupied an ornate armchair under a massive crystal chandelier. 

A young Ritz employee approached her. “Ms. Fitzroy, your car has arrived.”

“Merci.”

The attendant picked up her overnight bag and led her to the car. As he placed her stylish  suitcase in the trunk, Marie walked toward the driver’s door wondering why the driver hadn’t exited the car.
Wait! Those broad shoulders and that dark-brown fohawk look familiar . . . No, it can’t be!
She exploded in a burst of fury. “Are you freakin’ kidding me! Josh Ryan, what are you doing in Paris?”

“It's nice to see you, too. I knew you would be flattered that I dropped everything to join you on your adventure.” His instantaneous reply suggested he was fully prepared, and expecting, her heated response.

Josh’s soft-blue eyes held no charm for her. Marie fiercely demanded, “Give me the keys!” He didn’t budge. Marie was too independent to yield any control of her plans over to anyone, least of all Josh Ryan. She considered his presence there an interference, and more particularly, a sign he considered her incompetent.

“Please get in the car, Marie,” he calmly attempted to coax her.

“Really? You cannot be serious.” She could have eaten those words to her mother:
“Maybe I will give Josh a call after all.” What was I thinking?!
As far as she was concerned, after pulling this stunt, he was more likely to sprout wings and fly to the moon than get a date with her now.

* * *

Josh considered his presence a source of protection for Marie, and therefore, stood his ground. His voice deepened, resonating with firmness and more determination. “I am not letting you drive into the unknown alone.”

She waved her arms in a fit of rage. “Who do you think you are?” Yelling was not something Marie did often, but she was definitely yelling now. “Just because I said we could get together and talk when I got back to Kansas City does not mean we are dating now. What right do you have to be here?”

The parking attendant, watching the scene, chuckled. No doubt Josh and Marie looked like irritated lovers having a spat. But when Marie started yelling and flinging her arms in a rage, the young man’s countenance quickly turned, and he pulled his cell phone out of his uniform pocket.

Josh ascertained by the look on the attendant’s face that security was sure to be involved if Marie continued to refuse to get into the car. He had not wanted to bring up the shooting because he did not want guilt to be the emotion that drove her near him, but she left him no alternative. “Whether you like it or not, the paths of our destinies merged on the Fourth of July. I have as much invested in whatever is in that old estate as you have. Now,
please
get in the car, and on our way, I will fill you in on a visit I had from a former member of the P.D.A.”

“Geez!” Marie briskly walked to the passenger’s door and threw her purse between the two seats. She pointed in the direction they needed to drive. “How did you find me?” she demanded.

“I called your father.”

She shot him a frigid glare.
“My parents know you are here?”

If he had not known for a fact that her bark was worse than her bite, he would have been concerned.

“They sure do. Your father helped me arrange to pick up your car,” he triumphantly stated in spite of the fact he knew it would antagonize her. “I had a nice conversation with your parents last night.” He glanced at her eyes. “Don’t you want to know what we talked about?”

Marie ignored him.

“I told them I hoped to marry you and asked for their blessing.”

* * *

That declaration jostled a response out of her, although she attempted to sound indifferent. “What did they say?” She reached into her purse for an emery board.

Josh's frown suggested he was disappointed by her response. Is he growing impatient with her? Why should she care? After all, he was an unwelcome intruder. The situation was more evidence of his relentless need to sabotage her life.

Josh briefly turned his attention off the road to make eye contact with Marie. “Your mother kissed me, and your father said that I should not let you get away.”

“He did not!” She looked away, then immediately began filing her perfect manicured designer nails. The only thing she was seriously considering was how she was going to survive being a captive in a rented Fiat with the only person in the world who could completely disorient her.

“Yes, he did.” Josh spoke with deeply serious intent, yet Marie continued to ignore him. She was not going to give him the satisfaction of succeeding in his mission. Josh glanced at her again. “In short, they gave me their blessing.”

What should she do? Ignoring him did not work well due to his insane relentlessness. Trapped in a car with a delusional, optimistic Romeo was the last way she expected to be spending the day.

After thirty minutes of simmering silence, Marie finally accepted the fact she had lost control of her week and was stuck with Josh. She decided to be civil to him, moderately anyway. “Whatever.” Although it was a bit of a delayed snip, the turn in her tone was markedly less hostile.

Josh jumped on Marie’s response as if it were an engraved invitation for a real conversation. “Do you want to hear about the man from the P.D.A.?”

“Whatever.”

After he had relayed the entirety of his meeting with Ralph Smith, she was actually a smidge flattered that Josh had rescheduled his appointments and hopped on a plane for her sake. Stress melted away, allowing her to absorb the gorgeous countryside of southern France.

The Languedoc-Rousillon region was an amazing example of nature’s beauty and diversity. The clear sky, without a hint of clouds, accommodated a view of the high points of the mountain range from a distance. The balm of its beauty washed over her, soothing the anxiety she had been nursing. Eventually she realized if it were not for her elusive feelings for Josh, this road trip had all the hallmarks for romance.

They stopped for fuel and fast food not far from their destination. Marie suggested they eat outside on the picnic tables behind the restaurant. Yellow daisies bordered the pavement around the parking lot. Birds and bunnies frolicked in the tree line of a small picnic area, creating a pleasant source of background entertainment.

She placed her food tray on a vacant redwood tabletop. Josh placed his tray close to hers. With a steely glare, she firmly pushed his tray two feet away. He raised both brows in acknowledgment that he had picked up her meaning and obediently sat in his assigned seat without complaining.

He held out a small order of fries as a peace offering. “Want a fry?”

Marie had to fight off an upturn in her lips when she saw the adorable dimple that accentuated his flirty smile. “No thanks, I have onion rings.”

“So what is this adventure about?” He slid his tray an inch closer to hers.

His actions were clearly an act of provocation from Marie's perspective, but before she could make a retaliatory remark, a large ball bounced off her back. She turned her head and discovered two alarmed children staring at her, apparently afraid they were in trouble. Marie smiled and waved to the children.

“I am pursuing a vision given to me by an angelic messenger named Zoe. You are on your own.”

“Okay. I am on my own. Agreed. My agenda is to make sure you are safe; anything else is icing on the cake.” In a soft whisper,  he added, “Marie, I don’t want to fight. Please do not be angry with me.”

It was a battle, but his persistence persuaded her to lighten up. “I concede that you came here with good intentions. Since you are so determined to help me, well
 . . . I guess that is fine. Truce?” She winked, holding out her hand.

“I would prefer a hug, but I will settle on a handshake.” His strong hand clasped her petite one. “A few hours earlier, you were ready to bite off my head. In my estimation, I have made considerable progress in a relatively short length of time.”

Is he being sarcastic or flirting?

They finished lunch, cleaned up the trash, and much to Marie’s surprise, shared a few laughs on the short stroll back to the car. Then they continued on their quest.

“That is it! Pull in over there.” Marie pointed east toward an exceptionally large house set on a hill. “Wow, I can’t believe it! This place looks exactly how I remember it from my vision.” Marie was as elated as a gold miner who had struck the mother lode. They pulled in front of a centuries-old estate.

The grounds were well kept, suggesting the property had not been abandoned. Magnificent annual garden lined the landscape along the driveway. The various shades of blue and purple mingled with white flowers created a colorful, eye-pleasing display. Together they ascended the dozen steps leading to the front entrance.

An elderly couple answered the door. “
Bonjour
, may we help you?”

Wondering what kind of reception they would receive, Marie introduced them, “Bonjour, my name is Marie Fitzroy, and this is Josh Ryan. By any chance do you have an old library in your estate?”

“Oui. What are you looking for?”

“My grandmother, Josephine Léglise, brought my mother, Sophie, here when she was a little girl.”

“Sophie Léglise! I used to baby-sit your mother when she was a child. Ask her if she remembers Marianne Dubois. This is my husband, Jacques. Come in, come in!”

“Are you two sweethearts?” asked Jacques.

Without hesitation, Marie protested the notion. “No! We are friends.”

Josh smirked at the couple. “It has taken the better part of my life just to get her to talk to me.”

The kind elderly couple laughed affectionately.

Marie blushed out of embarrassment and gave Josh a look that conveyed her message. Really? However, his grin confessed that he was pleased with himself.

The picturesque interior of the estate highlighted vintage furniture and décor. Tapestries and original paintings lined the walls of lengthy hallways.

The initial sight of the library was beyond anything Marie had imagined. The twenty-foot-high walls were lined from floor to ceiling with shelves containing thousands of books. Heavy, dark-burgundy drapes framed an enormous set of three windows, each made from numerous small squared window panes. Two large desks sat catty-corner from each other in the center of the room. A banquet table was erected nearby with someone's research neatly organized on its surface.

Jacques removed one book from a shelf and handed it to Marie. “Where are you staying?”

“We have rooms at the Ritz in Paris, but we are hoping to find a little inn somewhere nearby for a few nights.” Marie examined the book.

“You will stay here for as long as you like,” Jacques insisted. “No one lives here now. You will not inconvenience anyone. We are the caretakers for the property. Our home is two kilometers north.” He gestured toward his house. “With the exception of the renovators for the exterior east wall, no one will be here until Saturday night.” His well-wrinkled hand motioned to the east. “There are tools, ladders, and scaffolding in that area, so please be careful. The grounds are beautiful . . . although,” he looked up briefly through the window, “the sky is clear now, rain is forecasted to arrive midweek and last until the weekend.”

“
Merci,
Jacques and Marianne.”

Jacques and Marianne prepared to retire. “You are fortunate to find us here today. Normally we would not be here on a Monday evening. But Marianne had an intuitive prompting to come here and wait. So we came, and here we are to meet you.” The caretakers said their goodnights, leaving stewardship of the mansion in Marie's and Josh’s care.

Marie placed the book on the desk, then wandered through the vast rooms feeling inadequate for the task before her. She wished she had years, instead of days, to explore the mansion. The first thing to capture her attention was an exquisite painting—well executed—of a young woman and a lion, which hung over the fireplace in the library. The young woman possessed a sublime beauty, and the lion stood near as if he were her guard. “Josh, come look at this painting.”

“It's exquisite.”

“The lion looks tame yet still fierce.” She turned toward him. “You know, there is something I have always wanted to ask you. I guess now is as good a time as any, if you don’t mind?”

* * *

“Are you kidding? I am thrilled you are interested. I want you to feel comfortable talking with me about anything. Go ahead, ask.”

Josh admired Marie’s grace as she moved close to the painting, reached up and ran her fingers over the image of the lion. “Why does Ryan and Sons use a lion for its logo?”