Sirens.
Jenny pulling me away from an unconscious Fox. Tying me to a post. “We’ve got to fix the scene!”
Shouting. People swarming everywhere.
I was cut free.
A clueless victim. Sitting wrapped in a foil blanket. I was there but my head wasn’t. I couldn’t think of anything but Fox. I needed to see him, hold him, hear him breathe.
The police were everywhere. I gave dazed answers to anyone who asked me a question.
One of them stood out. He was watching me. A tall man with dark skin and gray hair, dressed in a beautifully tailored blue suit with a crisp white shirt. He was smoking a slim cigarette. It was hard to clock his age, but I’d have placed him somewhere in his sixties.
He was coming toward me. He reached for my right hand and brought it to his nose.
“Alain Drake.” He announced with a slight French accent. “I am with Interpol.” He let go of my hand. What the hell was that?
“When can I see my husband?”
“I can take you now.” Drake walked over to a mustached detective who nodded a few times as Drake spoke.
Drake motioned me over and then led me outside. More hurried conversations with other police we passed. And then we were in his car. An old black Mercedes-Benz.
Five minutes of silence until he spoke. “Your hands smell of disinfectant.”
Jenny had scrubbed my hands to remove any gunshot residue in case I was tested for it.
“Someone gave me hand sanitizer. To get my husband’s blood off.”
Drake took a drag of his cigarette. He was not like the Italian detectives. He was trouble. “The way we found your husband. It looked like an interrogation.” I had come to the same conclusion. “He had information they wanted.”
I looked over at him. “Fox works in finance. I can’t imagine what a bunch of gangsters could want to know from him.”
“Your statement to the police said that a group of men took you and your husband from the carnival at gunpoint. Then another group of men attacked your kidnappers and got away before the police arrived.”
We had decided on the “innocent tourists caught up in rival gang dispute” angle.
Drake wanted to trip me up. “I was unconscious for quite a lot of my ordeal. I think that’s what happened. Loud gunshots and—”
We had just passed our hotel. “Stop!” I shouted without thinking.
Bibi.
I needed to see her. Drake seemed unfazed as he turned the car around.
I ran into the hotel and rang Jenny from reception. She brought Bibi to me. I took her pajamaed and sleepy into my arms. A hushed catch-up with Jenny as we hugged goodbye, and I was back at the car.
Drake helped Bibi into her seat. “Hello,ma chérie.I’m Alain.” He reached behind her head. “And what is this?” From behind her ear, he pulled out a purple-wrapped sweetie. “The fairies must like you. They only give presents to very special people.”
Bibi grinned at me and quickly unwrapped the sweet before popping it into her mouth.
I looked at him as he got back in the driver’s seat. “You have children? Grandchildren?”
“Some people aren’t born to be parents.” He started the engine.
“Couldn’t agree more.” I thought of my mother. Her blank face, the empty bottle.
Drake turned to look at me. “You had bad ones?”
