Murder in Aix (The Maggie Newberry Mystery Series Book 5) by Susan Kiernan-Lewis Page A

over the
couch, neither expensive, were ripped and had gaping gashes in them. The birdcage
was on its side and Maggie quickly went to see if the little bird still lived.
    “I am cleaning up the bastard’s love nest,” Michelle said, finally dropping
the axe to the floor. It hit with a thunk.
    Maggie saw the bird huddling in a corner of the cage. She grabbed the
handle of the cage and stood up with it. “I’m leaving now,” she said, shocked
to hear her voice sound strong and unwavering. “I intend to call the police as
soon as I’m in my car. If I were you, I’d figure out what you’re going to say
to them.”
    Michelle straightened the hem of her tee shirt over her jeans and surveyed
the damage in the apartment. “I will tell them that you did this!” she said defiantly. “It will be your word against
mine.”
    Maggie walked to the door holding the birdcage. “Good plan,” she said. “Then
we’ll just see who they believe.” Before she could edge past the girl, Michelle
turned and bolted out of the apartment, running down the stairs. Maggie
listened to the sounds of her heels pounding the steps until they receded into silence
as Michelle disappeared into the street.
    Maggie looked at the poor little bird, still shivering in terror, and then
at the ruined apartment. A feeling of incomprehensible sadness came over her as
she closed the door behind her and began her own descent to the street below. Somehow
she no longer felt very optimistic about Julia’s chances for returning home any
time soon.
     

 
     
    Chapter
Six
     
    Grace pulled the
duvet up to her chin and squeezed her eyes shut. Moments before she’d heard
Zou-zou call for her from the next room, but before she could decide what to do
she heard Laurent’s tread as he came up the stairs and into the child’s room.
She listened to his soft, deep rumble of a voice as he talked to the baby. When
she heard him leave, she knew Zou-zou was in his arms.
    She let out the
breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. This was, all of it, so much
harder than she ever imagined. It wasn’t just the overwhelming desire to weep
all the time that she hadn’t expected. It wasn’t even the fact she missed
Windsor—which was a total shock. It was the constant state of indecision
that she hadn’t anticipated. That she, who was always so in control and
confidant, now wanted only to hide under bedcovers and cry was a facet of her
personality she never knew existed.
    Her glance
strayed to her cellphone on the side table, attracted by the silent vibration
of an incoming call. She couldn’t help herself. She had to look. She propped up
on one elbow and saw the photo of Windsor on the cellphone screen. She
remembered well the circumstances when she had taken that picture. Before
Zou-zou was born, during one of the peaceful times that they’d found a decent au pair for Taylor—one who had been
able to last longer than a month—and, of course, long before Leeza the
twenty-two-year-old intern who had begun work at Windsor’s corporate office had
moved into their world. Grace let the call go to voice mail. She would delete
it later without listening to it.
    What in the world was there to say? Was he calling to tell
her Taylor had fallen during PE and cracked her skull? Did he want to know
where she kept the paprika in the pantry? Was he hoping they could move things
along a little more quickly please? Leeza was probably becoming impatient, and if she knew anything about Windsor
she knew how accommodating he was.
    As she pulled the
duvet tighter around her, she could smell the wonderful aromas of Laurent
making breakfast downstairs. She could also hear the sounds of her child making
delighted cooing noises. Uncle Laurent was obviously letting her “help.” As one
particularly happy squeal came from downstairs, Grace clapped her hands over
her ears to block out the noise.
    How many more people’s lives did she have to ruin before she
could just go off