The Ruthless Rice: a Provence cozy mystery (Julie Cavallo Investigates) by Ana T. Drew

Author:Ana T. Drew [Drew, Ana T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2025-05-06T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 22

Gabriel and I are sitting at a terrace table overlooking the Amphores Beach, only a five-minute walk from Patrice’s shop. The waiter has just served a plate of local clams for me, and a steak for Gabriel, both accompanied with Camargue rice. My clams are packed with flavor. Gabriel’s steak is perfectly seared just the way he likes it. The rice is cooked just so and knowing that it was grown in the marshlands right behind this town gives it a special oomph.

The setting here isn’t as picturesque as in Cassis or other old fishing harbors. But there’s something undeniably charming about it. The golden strip of sand stretches out before us, meeting the calm, deep-blue of the Mediterranean. A lively Gypsy tune played by a brass band we passed on the way carries on the breeze.

Gabriel looks up from his plate. “By the way, I have some news about the Rampal case.”

I pause, fork halfway to my mouth. “And you’re telling me this now?”

“I wanted to wait until after we saw Patrice Hivon.” He shrugs. “But if you want to hear it without delay, I can tell you.”

“Tell me.”

“The toxicology report came in early this morning before I left the gendarmerie to pick you up.”

I set my fork down. “And how exactly did you get access to it since you’re not part of the investigation team?”

He doesn’t reply right away.

I stroke his hand with feigned concern. “Oh, mon chéri, is the explanation embarrassing? Did you have to beg Shen?”

“No begging was necessary. Charles-Antoine showed me the results of his own accord. He said I could share them with you.”

I stare at him. “Did he?”

“Yes, to put your suspicions to rest.”

“OK,” I say. “So, what did the results show? Do we have the exact time of Rampal’s death?”

“Not yet.”

I knit my eyebrows. “I thought you had the results…”

“From the lab, yes. But the specialized forensic pathologist is still double-checking everything against the toxicology report. It shouldn’t take long now.”

“Cool.” I fold my arms over my chest. “What did the toxicology peeps find?”

“No traces of poison—and they tested for everything they could think of.”

“But?” I prompt, sensing more.

“You know what they did find?”

“What?”

“Alcohol,” he says.

I feel my mouth curve downward. “Just like Shen expected.”

“What’s more, the level of it in Rampal’s blood was very high.”

“So, he fell into the river and then found himself unable to swim to the shore?” I stare Gabriel in the eye. “Is that what you think happened?”

“That’s what it sure looks like,” he confirms. “Coupled with the autopsy that found no defensive wounds, Shen has concluded, and I believe rightfully so, that there was no foul play, no perp, no murder. Just the victim’s bad choices and bad luck.”

Frustration swirls inside me at those words. I’m ashamed to admit it, even to myself, but the idea that it was just a tragic accident feels like a letdown.

“No one likes to be proven wrong, love,” Gabriel coos, “especially someone with a track record like yours. I totally get it.

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