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Authors: Dianne Harman

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BOOK: 02_Coyote in Provence
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CHAPTER 10

           

On one of the rare occasions Elena opened the closet in the second bedroom of the cottage, the one she’d made into a den, the first thing she spotted was a laptop computer in its case. She’d opened the closet, looking for a fresh tablecloth for dinner that evening with Jordan.

She and Jeffrey had used the laptop to keep track of the motel finances. She’d grabbed it and brought it with her to Provence when she hurriedly left the Blue Coyote Motel after Jeffrey’s death. When she rented the cottage in Provence, she’d put it against the back wall of the closet and forgotten about it.

I wish I’d never brought the damn thing with me. It just reminds me of the hours Jeffrey spent in front of it, doing whatever it was he was doing. I thought I might need it, but so far I haven’t. Maybe I should just get rid of it. There’s a little computer store in the village. I wonder if they’d want to buy it. I probably better make sure that Jeffrey wasn’t looking at child porn on it when he used it. I know in California if a technician finds child porn on a computer, he has to report it. Maybe there’s a law like that here in France, and I don’t want to spend time in a French jail.

She took it out of the closet, put it on the desk and plugged it in. It had been several months since she’d used it and it took a while to get it up and running. In a few minutes she saw the familiar grey apple on the screen as it booted up. She sat down at the small desk in the den, trying to remember what password she’d used to gain access. Finally it came to her and she typed in “MARJEF.” She remembered Jeffrey once saying that even though he was the one who would use it most of the time, she’d need an easy to remember password and what could be easier than a combination of their names, Maria and Jeffrey. She smiled, thinking about the man Jeffrey was before he went mad. It was just like him to want to make life easy for her. Just as he had with the two drugs he’d provided for her, the anti-aging hormone and Freedom, the “feel-good” drug.

I wonder if I’m starting to show my age. I see myself in the mirror every day, so I don’t know if there’s a big difference from what I looked like before and what I look like now. I’d give anything to take the pills Jeffrey formulated for the motel guests – the combination of anti-aging and Freedom. I’d have the best of both worlds, feeling good all the time and I wouldn’t age. He really was a genius.

This is weird. I haven’t used this thing for months. I think the last time I used it was to do the bookkeeping for the motel about a month before I left and I probably researched some recipes. Well, I don’t need the bookkeeping program anymore, so I’ll just delete it.

She looked at the screen as the familiar icons appeared on the desktop home page. There were very few. Jeffrey used it to search out certain plants and things he wanted to use in his experiments. Other than that the standard icons that came with the laptop were the only things showing on the screen. Suddenly her attention was caught by a file she’d never seen before. It was simply labeled “Jeffrey.”

            That’s odd. I sure don’t remember that being there. I wonder if he added something I don’t know about.  She clicked on the file. There were three items in it. Her heart began to speed up and she could feel herself perspiring.  She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The first sheet was labeled “Hormone,” the second sheet “Freedom,” and the third sheet, “Guest Pill.”

            She clicked on the “Hormone” sheet. There were six rows with numbers along with what looked like plant names. “Freedom” had eight rows of numbers and plant names. “Guest Pill” had fourteen rows of numbers and plant names.

           
Oh my God. Am I imagining this? Could Jeffrey have been worried he was losing his mind and put his secret formulas on the laptop? Could these pages be his formulas?

            She got up and went to the kitchen for a glass of water. Her hands were shaking so badly she had to put both of them around the glass to get it to her lips. She went back to the computer and sat down. Elena pinched herself to see if this was a dream. She wondered if you wanted something badly enough, if your mind could play tricks and tell you that you’d found it. She looked again. The three formulas were right in front of her on the screen.

           
I don’t have a printer so
I better make a note of these before the computer breaks down and I lose them.

            She opened the desk drawer and pulled out a notepad. She began to carefully transcribe all three of the formulas, checking and double checking to make sure what she had written down was an exact replica of what was shown on the computer. Elena turned the laptop off, grabbed her iPad and went out on the patio. She opened it up and began researching the names of the plants Jeffrey had listed in the formulas. All of them were from South America and after an hour of research, she determined that only drug companies could bring them into the United States from Mexico, where they were distilled. The drug companies were a powerful lobby and they’d been able to get a Trade Agreement in place because the plants were essential in many of the drugs that they formulated.

            Elena began pacing the length of the patio. All she could think about was getting the drug. What she really needed was a chemist. Even though she had the names of the plants and the amounts, there had to be more to it than that. At the bottom of each of the pages were notations which she’d painstakingly copied, but they didn’t mean a thing to her. Maybe they would to a chemist, but how was she supposed to find a chemist in this little village? Plus, Jeffrey was one of the finest chemists in the world. It might take a very knowledgeable chemist to understand his notations.

           
There’s nothing I can do today, but maybe, just maybe, I can get the drug again. Now I need to get ready for Jordan. I don’t have much time and there’s no way I can tell him about the formulas without going into everything that happened on my last afternoon at the Blue Coyote Motel.

CHAPTER 11

 

Jordan left the chateau and walked to the parking lot, got in his car and drove the short distance to the
épicier
.  While the butcher cut T-bone steaks from the loin of beef hanging in the back cooler, Jordan selected two large potatoes and a few other items. He couldn’t pass up the Chateuneuf-du-Pape Cotes du Rhône wine and bought two bottles.

He made his way up the winding hill, spotted the blue shutters, and saw that candles had already been lit in the house. The winding path to the door had several lighted pillar candles in tall glass hurricane holders as well. It made the appearance of the cottage seem even more warm and inviting than it had been the evening before, almost magical.

 
I must have passed some test
.
This looks promising.

Elena opened the door just as he raised his hand to knock. “Let me help you with those sacks. What did you bring? This looks like more than steak and potatoes,” she said.

She wore jeans and a simple pink and white striped blouse. She’d cut her long hair right after she landed in Marseilles, but it had grown quite a bit since then. Elena wore it pulled behind her ears, with bangs swept to the side. On her ears were big hoop earrings and gold bracelets jangled on her wrists. She looked fresh and beautiful. Jordan beamed at her.

“I couldn’t resist,” he answered. “I’m a sucker for Chateuneuf-du-Pape wine, and it wouldn’t be a true baked potato without bacon and sour cream. I thought you’d probably have some chives or scallions in your garden.  Why don’t you put the potatoes in the oven and I’ll open the wine?”

While he was opening the wine, he stole a glance at Elena. She really was beautiful. He couldn’t even begin to guess her age. There were no lines on her face or around her eyes. With all of the investigations Jordan had conducted over the years, he’d become pretty good at gauging a person’s age, but not in Elena’s case.  None of the usual benchmarks were there.

He couldn’t remember if Elena had worn make-up the day before, but she certainly had applied some tonight and applied it well. Her hazel eyes were glowing with her long lashes darkened by mascara and soft brown eyeliner applied to the lids. Her cheeks were a little more blushed than he remembered and she wore a hint of lipstick. He wondered what it would be like to kiss those soft, inviting lips. He didn’t know how long she’d been widowed or how long it had been since she’d been with a man. When they met yesterday and during dinner last night, he’d sensed some sexual tension between them, but tonight was a different story. Sex was definitely in the air, like a thick perfume.

Elena washed the potatoes, pierced and oiled them, and put them in the oven. She felt fabulous, the best she’d felt in a long time. After she finished working at Henri’s Bakery earlier in the day, she’d headed to the village pharmacy with its vast array of make-up and skin products.

As she was getting ready for the evening, and applying make-up for the first time in months, she realized how much she’d missed being attractive. If that was vanity, so be it. Her mother’s mantra came back to haunt her:
Get a good job. Find a rich man. Get out of the barrio.

Well, Madre, I did that and look what happened.  I got out of the barrio and ended up in Provence with no man, just a dead husband. Maybe her mantra was wrong for me. And now look what I’ve done – invited a policeman for dinner for the second night in a row. Maybe I like to live on the edge a little more than I thought. This could really be dangerous for me, but somehow, I just don’t care. Anyway, I’m lonely and he’s very attractive.

Elena took the glass of wine that Jordan offered her. “We have some time before the potatoes will be ready. Let’s go out on the patio. It’s such a beautiful evening,” she said.

Large wooden baskets of flowering plants hung from the patio’s open lattice cover. Numerous clay pots filled with a variety of brightly colored flowers had been carefully arranged on the tiled floor. There was a charming small table and chairs, with soft pillows cushioning the harshness of the wrought iron. In the distance, the lights of the village sparkled in the last glow of daylight. The hills were bathed in muted shades of purples and blues. They raised a glass to one another in a silent toast.

“Tell me about your day,” she began as she took a sip of her wine. “Did you find any of the paintings you were looking for?”

“As a matter of fact,” he said, “It has been a very successful day. I located two more paintings, and I was able to get a photo of the person who sold a painting to one of the galleries. I ate in two fabulous restaurants, and the day isn’t over yet!”

She laughed. “You’re setting a pretty high bar for me.  I’m not a professional chef from a fancy restaurant.  I just like to cook.”

“Elena, don’t downplay your cooking. And I guarantee you that the chefs in the restaurants did not look like you. You look absolutely stunning tonight. And I’d be a liar if I didn’t tell you how much I’ve looked forward to seeing you again.”

Their eyes met and they were both silent for a moment.  “I feel the same way, Jordan. I know you’re only going to be here for a few days, but I’m glad you came to Henri’s and asked to speak with me.  I’ve been looking forward to this all day as well. I didn’t realize how lonely I’ve been.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

Elena jumped ahead, not waiting for the questions she knew he’d be asking at some point. “My husband was very ill before he died. It’s been a long time since I have enjoyed being with a man, and even more, had the feeling a man was enjoying being with me. Thank you for that.”

They began to speak at the same time and then laughed, breaking the tension of the moment.  “Elena, I’ll only be here for a few days. I’d like to make them memorable for both of us.” Jordan stood up, setting his wine glass on the table. “I may be really misreading things, but I want you, and I think you feel the same way. If we were back in the United States, we could do a long mating dance, but we don’t have the luxury of time.”

He leaned over and gave her a long, passionate kiss which she eagerly returned. “Please, beautiful lady that I hardly know, won’t you come with me?” He extended his hand to her. She took it and stood, putting her wine glass on the table as well.

They walked into the house and into her bedroom. She started to unbutton her blouse. “Stop,” Jordan said. “I want to take off your clothes, one by one.” He finished unbuttoning her blouse and deftly undid the front clasp of her bra, freeing her full, heavy breasts. “My God, you’re even more beautiful than I thought.”

He began to gently caress her nipples with one hand while he put his other hand behind her head, pulling her mouth to his. He kissed her passionately. She could feel his hard-on pushing against his jeans. “Jesus, Elena.  I don’t know how long I can last.”

He unzipped her jeans while she unbuttoned his shirt and undid his jeans, releasing his fully erect penis as he stepped out of them. Elena’s clothes dropped off, revealing silk and lace underwear. The blue thong covered her lush pubic area, and she could feel herself becoming wet with desire.

Jordan sat down on the bed and pulled her to him, kissing her breasts. He pulled the thong down and she stepped out of it. She straddled him, gently guiding his pulsating erection into her wetness. She began to move up and down in a slow erotic manner. Jordan couldn’t take it any longer. “Elena, get off of me and lie down.  Hurry, I want to feel every part of you!”

Afterward, when Jordan was capable of speaking, he said, “I’m crushing you.” He rolled off and pulled her to him. They stayed that way for a long time, each lost in their own thoughts.

I’ve never felt this sexually attracted to any woman.  What in the hell is going on? I don’t really know anything about her. Talk about an affair to remember. This is the one. And me, the one the rest of the detectives call “Mr. Cautious,” because I’m so careful about the women I see. This is completely unlike me, but there’s something irresistible about her.

BOOK: 02_Coyote in Provence
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