Can you or your detective friend find out who was reported missing in this area 6 years ago in summer? Thank you.
STELLA
Ipanfried some gnocchi with rosemary and paprika, the way Gaby likes it, and we had a quick dinner. She went out to see a zombie movie in Rumilly with her boyfriend. She’d asked if I wanted to tag along, but I told her I wasn’t in the mood for zombies tonight. They’re no fun to watch when you’re feeling like one.
After she left, I turned on the TV and channel surfed until I stumbled on an old comedy with Pierre Richard and Gérard Depardieu.
It’s what I’m watching now.
Halfway through the movie, a text from Darrel pops up on my phone:
My friends did a bit of digging. A Bulgarian grad student and amateur mountaineer named Ivo Georgiev was trekking in the Prealps of Savoie that summer when he disappeared.
The specialized rescue units of the gendarmerie and the civilian volunteers from Secours en Montagne never found him or his body.
His parents spend every summer in Haute-Savoie. They search with the help of volunteers, hoping to find his remains and give him a burial.
I reread the text several times.
Ivo Georgiev, grad student and mountaineer from Bulgaria…
How did he end up in our house, performing a ritual with my parents and the Bauds? What did they do to him? I need to know.
My phone beeps with another text from Darrel:
What are you going to do with that information? I suggest you sleep on it. We can meet up tomorrow at 11 a.m. at the Café des Arts and talk about it. Can you make it? Please don’t do anything rash until then!
I put the phone down next to me with a little smile curving up my lips. Seeing Darrel before my second appointment with Dr. Biel next Thursday is great. Seeing him as early as tomorrow morningat his suggestionis the pinnacle of greatness.
But there is no way I can wait until tomorrow afternoon to ask my parents the questions that are consuming me.
I pick up my phone and type:
You worry too much for a supersecret agent, bodyguard, and knight. See you tomorrow!
With that, I shove my phone in my purse, lock up, and head to my parents’ house. I haven’t talked to them since I moved out. We’ve crossed paths a few times, what with me still living in Vosier-en-Haut. They smiled and sent me hopeful looks, but I didn’t engage. I wasn’t ready.
I am now.
It’s Mom who opens the door. She wraps her arms around me, holding me close, sniveling, repeating my name, and how happy she is I’m here. My own tears start flowing. I realize how much I’ve missed her.
Dad comes down and stands off to the side, his face betraying excitement and hesitation.
I’ve missed him, too.
God give me strength!I don’t know if I can go through with this.
Mom leads me to the dining room table.
Dad pulls out a chair for me.
“Have you had dinner?” Mom asks. “We just ate, but I have lots of good stuff in the fridge, including your favorite—”
I sit down. “I’m good, Mom. Gaby and I had dinner.”
“Is her place big enough?” Dad sits down across from me. “Do you have a room, or do you sleep on the couch?”
My phone beeps in my purse, but I ignore it. “It’s a very comfy couch.”
