86 Avenue du Goulet (A Samantha Jamison Mystery Volume 3) by Peggy A. Edelheit Page A

turning to go.
    Just then, the music started to play a … tango. Well, he grabbed my hand, whipped me back to him and my whole body slammed into his. He arched an eyebrow, smirking.
    I started to protest. “Hey, I’m not the greatest at this.”
    He put his finger on my lips, whispering, “Follow my lead with your body and don’t take your eyes off mine.”
    In the past, I’d be too concerned about what kind of fool I’d make of myself and what people might think of me actually trying to pull this off.
    But this time a smile tugged at my mouth. What did I have to lose?
    “I’m game if you are,” I said breathlessly. “Go for it.”
    Well, he was glued to me from the get go with one hand on my lower back, throwing me backward with my hair sweeping the floor, and then the next minute, I was pulled up into a tight embrace, breathing heavily, and then abruptly swept across the floor in several very sexy glides.
    It was hard concentrating until we locked eyes. After that, I was swayed, dragged and whipped around, and then finally slid down his leg with that damn orchid somehow clenched in between my teeth! … When did that happen?
    All of a sudden, I realized the music had stopped and everything was silent. I looked around. We were the only ones on the dance floor. My heart pounded, and then I heard applause.
    The stranger gracefully pulled me to my feet and threw me in a back arch and kissed my lips lightly. “To America,” he whispered. Then he slowly brought me upright.
    People applauded and cheered. Then I heard a loud whistle and looked over. Martha. Who else? She winked.
    Everybody gathered around, congratulating us on a great performance, then the band started playing, and everyone resumed slow dancing, including Martine, Jean, Martha and Luc. I was still trying to catch my breath on the sidelines, standing next to … who?
    We both turned as a petulant voice hissed from behind.
    “Philippe! Have you forgotten? You are here with me!” said a very pissed off Mademoiselle Forniet.

 
     
     
    Chapter 28
    Another Interview
     
     
    I still felt embarrassed the next morning as I made my way over to Martine and Jean’s to interview Claudine and Paul. I shook my head, incredulous at what had happened. What were the odds? Of all people, it had to be her paramour ? When I stepped into it, I usually did it in style. I laughed, shelving it for later. I had an interview.
    Martine said I could meet with her housekeepers in the cottage they lived in on the far side of her property. I knocked and was cordially led inside by the elderly pair.
    “It was nice of you to see me on such short notice,” I said, smiling, as I sat on their sofa. “I appreciate your time.”
    “It is not a problem,” Claudine replied, carefully.
    Paul sat down beside her. “I doubt if we can help you, but we promised Martine that we would try.”
    Already he was setting the stage with a negative right up front. Was that on purpose? “Why do you say that?”
    He moved uncomfortably. “Because we know nothing.”
    I focused on Claudine. “Did you hear anything unusual that might have caught your attention the last few months?”
    She quickly turned to Paul before answering and something unspoken passed between them.
    “…No, certainly not from back here,” she finally said.
    “How long have you worked for Martine and Jean?”
    Claudine relaxed, relieved by the change in topic. “Oh, for many years, since Paul and I were first married.”
    I turned my attention to Paul. “How did you meet Jean and come to work for him and Martine?”
    “We met one summer many years ago on the beach and quickly became…fast friends.”
    “You met here on the French Riviera?”
    Paul actually thought that was funny and laughed. “As a meager carpenter, I could never afford to travel to the south of France to these beaches. No, I met him in northern France. It was much cheaper there back then.”
    “What about Curat?”
    He sat up straighter, wary.