Chapter 64

 

Sandy emerged from her bedroom, a little fuzzy around the edges, yawning but awake.

“I figured I’d better get up or I would sleep all day and be awake all night,” she said.

“Hungry?” Pen asked. “I was thinking of some lunch.”

Amber spoke, not taking her eyes from her computer screen. “I’ll wait for Gracie.”

“It’s probably best if we don’t all four go out together anyway,” Sandy said.

“True. We don’t want to draw notice as a group,” Pen said. “I can bring back something for everyone, or just order room service if you’d like.”

In the end it was decided that Pen and Sandy would take a walk and check out the area, while Amber did more research on the gem show and waited for Gracie, who’d been sent on a second errand after returning from the office supply store.

Pen put on her large hat and big sunglasses, making certain to wear slacks and a jacket Frank Morrell had never seen before. The last thing they wanted was for him to spot her before she spotted him, and they had to take into account that he could have already arrived here and be somewhere in the vicinity of the gem show venue.

According to Amber’s research, the big event opened tonight with a champagne gala for the wealthiest buyers and she was doing her best to get Pen onto the invitation list. The goal of attending wasn’t so much to take in the fabulous displays of jewelry on offer, although that part of it would be an enticing sidelight—they wanted to scope out the layout, entries and exits, and the likely ways robbers might target the place.

“Of course, I need all of you to keep an eye out for my necklace,” Pen told Sandy as they left the hotel, walking alongside the lengthy Promenade des Anglais which stretched for miles along the beach front. “There is always the chance Frank Morrell sold it quickly and it may turn up.”

“Surely no one would be so foolish as to put a recently stolen item on display,” Sandy ventured.

“Yes, that’s probably true. We shall most certainly need to keep our ears as well as our eyes open.”

They kept up a brisk pace—the rocky beach and sea on their right hand and ornate buildings backed by green hills to their left. They passed a tourism office and a large park with some kind of monument and a sign indicating a theatre nearby. Beachside restaurants dotted the way but they put a mile or more behind them before they reached the end of the walking path, turned around and began earnestly looking for a lunch spot. The Beau Rivage offered beachside dining, views through floor-to-ceiling windows, linen tablecloths, and a French menu featuring delectable crepes, for which Pen had suddenly developed a craving.

“For once, I don’t care about the extra butter,” she told Sandy, dipping into her pasta. “This is delicious.”

She was about to take a second bite when a man walking laboriously across the rocky beach caught her attention. Wearing a business suit and overcoat with dress shoes that must have proven extremely painful on the rock surface, he plodded along with his eyes directed toward his next potential misstep.

Pen’s fork dropped to her plate. “Oh, my god,” she said barely above a whisper.

“Pen? What is it?” Sandy looked up from her plate.

“Out there on the beach, that man.” Pen had begun to rise from her chair.

Sandy saw the only person within view who wasn’t wearing beach attire.

“I know him. It’s the police detective who tried to find my necklace back in Phoenix. What the heck is he doing here?”