“That’s right.”
“Have they caught the guy?”
“No,” Maurice said. “We met with Luis Benoît, the son of Amelie’s former mentor, a French chef by the name of Armand Benoît. Luis had a man with a German accent, who identified himself as Fredrick Schulz, asking him about his father’s family, supposedly researching wealthy French families during WWII and where they are now.”
“Interesting that a German was asking about French families,” Swede commented. “But go on.”
“I need you to do your magic and find out anything you can about Schulz. Who is he? Who does he work for? Basically, is he legit?”
“Fredrick Schulz,” Swede repeated. “Got it.”
“Also, look up French chef Armand Benoît’s parents. Who were they, and did they own any valuable artwork or antiquities that might’ve been lost or disappeared during WWII?”
“On it,” Swede responded.
“One more thing…” Maurice put the phone on speaker, pulled up the photo of the pocket watch and forwarded it to Swede’s number. “I just sent you a photograph of a pocket watch Armand gave to his son the day before he died.”
“I have it,” Swede acknowledged.
“Check it out. Is it worth anything? And if you have any idea what the numbers are on the inside of the cover, we’d like to know. It’s got us stumped.”
“I’ll do what I can.”
“Thanks, Swede,” Maurice said. “Out here.”
“Out here,” Swede said and ended the call.
Once he’d finished the call, Maurice helped load the items after Amelie checked them off the list. He admired her professionalism and kindness when working with the dock laborer. When the items were loaded, she shook the man’s hand and thanked him before closing the back door of the van.
Maurice opened the passenger door for her. “You don’t mind if I drive?”
She shook her head. “Not if you don’t mind driving.”
“I’d be honored.” He handed her up into the van and closed the door.
Maurice shifted into gear and drove out of the loading dock. “Do we need to stop anywhere else before heading back to Bayou Mambaloa?”
Amelie leaned her head back against the seat. “No. They were able to hook me up with everything I needed. I’m ready to get back, unload and get set up for tomorrow.”
“Are you going to open tomorrow?”
She drew in a deep breath. If I can get some sleep tonight so that I’m not the walking dead at three-thirty in the morning, I’ll open on time. I can’t guarantee a full list of what I usually prepare, but I’ll have what most people order. And coffee.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll help however I can.”
She leaned her head to the side to look his way. “You really don’t have to, you know. If they’ve caught the vandal, there will be no need for you to stay.”
Maurice shot her a pointed look. “Have they caught the vandal?”
Amelie glanced down at her phone.
“Wouldn’t Shelby have called you if they had?”
Her lips twisted. “Yes.”
“You could call and ask her if they’ve found them to make certain,” Maurice offered softly.
Amelie lifted her cell phone, paused and lowered it. “No. Shelby would call if they’d caught him.”
