Death Plans a Perfect Trip by Mary Jane Maffini

Author:Mary Jane Maffini [Maffini, Mary Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: espionage, amateur sleuth, women sleuths, mothers and daughters, spy novel, dog mystery, international mystery, cooking mystery
Publisher: Beyond the Page Publishing
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

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By a minor miracle, Jack managed to book our trip for that night at ten forty-five. It involved three separate flights and would get us into Lisbon in the morning. I zipped the carry-on bag as soon as he shouted out success.

He couldn’t resist saying, “If we’re going to be traveling, we should have a really good meal. It’s our last night in Paris and we’d be crazy not to treat each other well. So, before you put up a fight, it’s not too early for dinner, we have plenty of time to get to the airport.”

I didn’t bother to argue. Even though I knew there would be no shortage of wonderful meals in Lisbon, tonight’s dinner would make him happy.

We settled on a tiny dark bistro off the beaten track. The advantage was that it served early dinners and many restaurants wouldn’t start until later. Plus, the scent of fresh bread drew us in. We made ourselves comfortable at a discreet corner table that gave us a good view of anyone passing in front and ordered from the chalkboard menu du jour. I ordered the sole bonne femme and Jack chose the boeuf bourguignon, traditional French dishes, rich and delicious.

Flickering candles cast shadows on the red and white tablecloth and on Jack’s face. There were only two dozen tables in the little bistro and because it was earlyish, there were only a handful of other diners. A pair of men who might have been professors at the music school waved their hands as they spoke passionately in French. A middle-aged couple commiserated about their day. Two young women with spiky blue and green hair lingered over appetizers. No sign of the shadowy villains who had been tracking us and Esme. I could relax with a glass of good wine for a short time and tomorrow we’d begin a new adventure. Jack had a seafood bisque to start, but I merely nibbled on a slice of freshly cut warm bread. I wished I could slather it with butter. French butter is an experience in itself. But I’d learned on an earlier trip that in France one does not butter one’s bread at dinner.

Even when our main courses arrived preceded by their delicious aromas, my heart wasn’t in our meal. For one thing, it was ridiculously early for a romantic dinner. For another, the past twenty-six hours had about a month’s worth of drama, action and travel. Still, I appreciated Jack’s support in this crazy chase. When he decided to have crème caramel for dessert, I went with chocolate ice cream and it helped a bit. We just had to get to Lisbon without disaster.

As we were getting ready to leave, I heard a WhatsApp call coming in. I reached for the phone, wondering who could be contacting us. It was after midnight back in Woodbridge. My heart fluttered as I read.

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