He gestures broadly. “When he decided to settle in rural Dordogne far away from the turmoil of Paris and Pombrio, he bought an old castle and launched a massive renovation project. The roof structures and coverings were redone.”
He pauses and gazes at me intently.
He gives me a moment to process everything as the gears in my brain to turn. I stare back and mentally retrace his train of thought. And then, suddenly, it clicks. I gape as pieces fall into place.
“The horse weather vane on top of the main tower!” I exclaim. “What if it was Jean-Baptiste who had it made? What if that’s where he hid the key?”
Henri’s expression shifts to caution. “Just don’t get too carried away, OK? The search team was thorough. It’s hard to see how they would’ve missed it.”
That’s a fair point, and he’s right to temper my enthusiasm. I resent the notion of going home empty-handed so much that I may be getting ahead of myself.
But hang on a sec…“What’s that weather vane made of?”
“Iron, most likely.”
“Typical for old weather vanes, right?”
“If you wanted them sturdy and durable, then yes.”
I cock my head. “Imagine the agent who swept the roof with a metal detector. When it started beeping, he looked at the weather vane and said, ‘Duh, it’s made of iron,’ and moved on.”
“You really think the key could be hidden inside?”
“It’s the perfect hiding place, if you ask me,” I argue. “It’s so in your face it becomes invisible.”
Henri rubs his chin, considering my words. “Shall we take a look?”
“Hell, yeah!”
“All right then.” He places the tome back on the shelf. “Let’s grab some gear first.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“I’m going pop into the junk room to gather my old mountaineering paraphernalia,” Henri says outside the library. “Wait for me in the main tower, top floor.”
Before I rush to the tower, I call Audrey. Her phone rings unanswered. I dial again, as I to make my way to her room through the corridors of the château, my steps quickening with each unanswered ring. At her door, I knock, once, twice. I wait. No response. With a tentative hand, I push the door open and peek inside.
She’s sprawled across the bed, still dressed and fast asleep. The peaceful expression on her face stops me from waking her. If she slept through my call, she must be exhausted.
No wonder!She’s always so alert, so together, so aware of the surroundings and scanning for potential danger! But at the end of the day, she’s only human like the rest of us. Today’s intense archival research was her breaking point.
Quietly, I close the door and leave her to the rest she clearly needs. I smile when I think of the wonderful surprise that might await her if Henri and I find the key.
I hurry to the top floor of the main tower, where I find Henri in the only room with the door open. He’s geared up withan empty backpack strapped to his front and a headlamp. A wrench, pliers, and a screwdriver are tucked securely in his belt.
“Ready?” I ask him.
He nods, picks up two harnesses and ropes, and we head to the dusty attic. Once we’re inside the dimly lit space, Henri moves with the practiced confidence of an experienced climber. He secures a harness around me, threading the ropes firmly but not too tight. He then fastens another harness around himself.
While he works, I’m reminded of my own experiences with climbing reluctantly undertaken as part of my royal safety drills. I hated them as a teenager, but now that I’m preparing to scale to the roof, I’m grateful for every grueling session I endured.
Henri double-checks the harnesses, his hands deftly feeling for any loose straps or knots. His eyes meet mine in a silent message of reassurance, and then he climbs the ladder to the roof access. I follow him up, the wooden rungs creaking under my feet. When he opens the hatch, a burst of fresh air hits us.
“Ready?” he asks.
“As I’ll ever be.”
With a final check of our harnesses and knots, ensuring everything is secure, Henri leads the way through the hatch onto the roof. As soon as I emerge, the panoramic view takes my breath away. The estate sprawls beneath us like a scene from a fairy tale while the fading light adds a touch of mystery to its beauty.
