Fleur De Lies by Maddy Hunter

Author:Maddy Hunter [Hunter, Maddy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Mystery & Detective, Women Sleuths, senior citizens, Mystery, Humor, Cozy, paris, Travel, france, Cozy Mystery, maddy hunter, tourist
ISBN: 9780738737980
Google: OXJWAwAAQBAJ
Amazon: B00JMJJWXQ
Barnesnoble: B00JMJJWXQ
Goodreads: 18579788
Publisher: MIDNIGHT INK
Published: 2013-12-31T18:30:00+00:00

twelve

Why would Woody be wearing a piece of jewelry whose embroidered likeness occupied a place of honor on Madeleine Saint-Sauveur’s sideboard?

The question kept floating through my head as we soldiered on toward the site where St. Joan of Arc had been burned at the stake.

The rain had stopped abruptly, allowing us to scoot back onto the walkway without our umbrellas raised. We followed a shortcut through a walled courtyard on the side of the cathedral and arrived at a broad plaza fronting the west façade, where we discovered that the pinnacled doorways and colonnades once immortalized by Claude Monet were now obscured by an Eiffel Tower of metal staging.

“What a scam!” Bernice griped. “What are we supposed to take pictures of ? The scaffolding?”

“You will find some very nice souvenir shops along the Rue de Gros Horloge,” Madeleine announced, waggling her umbrella toward the pedestrian mall in front of us. “If you would like to see the cathedral without the scaffolding, you should purchase a postcard that shows what it looked like before the war. There are many selections to choose from.”

“Oh, sure,” whined Bernice. “And I suppose there are no kickbacks involved in that little deal. You can bet someone’s going to be reading about this on your evaluation.”

Madeleine shrugged. “D’accord.”

As we trekked down the cobblestoned mall, I wove my way forward through the group until I caught up with Woody.

“You’ll never guess what I just saw,” I exclaimed as I quickened my pace to keep up with his unexpectedly long stride.

He let out a burst of laughter. “Cal handing out business cards?”

“Uhhh—No.”

“Of course not. That was a trick question. Cal never hands out business cards. That would be too much like advertising.”

Talk about dog with bone. “I saw a picture of your fleur-de-lis ring.”

“Did you now?”

“In fact, you might have seen it, too. At Madeleine’s house on our home visit. On her sideboard. It was a needlepoint piece in a frame. Same fleur-de-lis. Same broken petal.”

“Never saw it.”

“Bernice has a picture of it among her photos. Isn’t that weird that the Saint-Sauveurs would have an embroidery of your ring?”

“Why is it weird? Look around. Everything over here has some kind of fleur-de-lis on it.”

“But they don’t have broken petals, which is what makes your ring and her embroidery rather unique.”

“So … what’s your point?”

“Well, I was thinking that if you’re curious about your ring’s history, Madeleine might have some insight into both the embroidery and the ring. Wouldn’t it be interesting to learn the story behind—”

“Why would I care?” His voice bristled with irritation. “I told you. It’s always been in the family, so why would I need to know its history? It’s mine. End of story.”

“I … I just thought—”

He fluttered his hand in annoyance, as if shooing me away. “No disrespect, Emily, but when I want your help, I’ll ask for it. Okay? Hell, you seem to be taking up where Cal left off, and I don’t appreciate it.”

I slowed my steps, allowing him to forge ahead of me.

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