Dree’s voice dropped and became hoarse. “Someday, you can do a favor for me.”
Maxence smiled and rubbed his eyebrow, suddenly shy about what he should have been most proud of. “I baptized them. They were the first children I baptized.”
Dree glanced up at him, startled. “But you’re not a priest.”
He shrugged. “You don’t have to be a priest to baptize someone. Any Christian can baptize someone in extraordinary circumstances, but deacons do baptisms all the time. We’re considered ordinary ministers for baptisms. I’ve baptized lots of babies. Butanyonecan.”
Dree’s smile softened. “I wish I’d seen you do that.”
“Yeah.” The tight knot unraveled in Maxence’s chest. He wished she’d seen the better part of him, too.
Dree led the way back to Maxence’s office. Ndaya and Disanka followed her, their long, white skirts swaying like dangling lilies, while Max brought up the rear with Majambu and Mpata clinging to his shoulders and giggling. They struggled with each other because they were both trying to dominate Maxence’s attention, each of them turning his face toward herself and away from her sister. Except for a few furtive video calls, he hadn’t seen them since he’d left the DRC to tend to his dying uncle, and he could swear they had grown so much and were talking so much more in just that short time.
He hated that he’d missed so much.
In the office, Dree fussed over them and made sure there were chairs and tea for the ladies and milk and cookies for the kids.
Majambu and Mpata didn’t want chairs. They were delighted sitting on Max’s lap and competing for his attention and the cookies.
After a few quick phone calls, the refreshments, and plans for Maxence to come to the convent the next day for lunch, Max’s receptionist called on the phone and, sounding very confused, announced that three nuns had arrived and insisted they had an appointment.
Maxence and Dree saw the two nurses and two toddlers into the minivan, which had car seats, and waved goodbye as it drove out of sight.
Once the minivan had rounded the curve and sped into a tunnel, the smile dropped off Max’s face. He turned on his heel and marched back into the palace with Dree and five security personnel trailing him.
The crowd parted in front of him.
As he walked down the hall toward his office, he passed Quentin Sault, who was walking the other way. He growled to Sault, “With me.”
Sault fell in beside and one step behind Maxence. His receptionist called after him, but he straight-armed his office door out of his way. It banged against the wall on the other side as he turned.
Quentin Sault entered after him and came to parade rest, his hands locked behind his back and chin, high.
Maxence walked around behind him and flipped the door closed, leaving Dree and the other security personnel outside. As he paced around to stand in front of Sault, he asked, “Who brought them here?”
Sault blinked, weathered eyelids covering his nearly colorless eyes. “I beg your pardon, sir?”
“Those African ladies who appeared in the courtyard of the palace, a place where they shouldnothave been. They should have been pretty muchanywhere elsein the world exceptthispalace inthiscountry. They’ve never known who I am, and they would not know to find me here.Someoneknew they existed. Who was it, andwho brought them here?”
Sault’s iron-gray eyebrows twitched toward the crease between his eyes. “I’ll look into it, sir.”
“They said Michael Rossi contacted them in Kinshasa and made the travel arrangements for them. Who is Michael Rossi assigned to?”
Sault’s blank expression did not change. “When we took Rossi off the palace detail, he resigned. I have no knowledge about his current employment.”
“You haven’t seen him since he resigned?”
“No, sir.”
“And did you ever find out who told my uncle Jules that my plane would be landing in Nice and then the helicopter would arrive in Monaco?”
Sault’s lips thinned. “No, sir.”
Maxence stepped forward, his anger expanding inside his chest. His voice was very soft. “You will find the answer to both of those questions within twenty-four hours and report to me as soon as you know.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Has anyone discussed my new admin, Dree Clark?”
