La Fleur Rouge The Red Flower (10 page)

“Thanks, Hildy. Do you really think he likes me?”

Hildy laughed. “What more proof do you need? I’ll meet you at the elevator. I’ll bet he’s in the lobby already, and can’t wait to see you. I have a strong feeling about you two, and I couldn’t be happier.”

“Hildy, I only wish you’d meet someone special. You deserve it.”

“Oh, plenty of time for that.” Hildy brushed off her remark. “Right now I’m totally committed to this musical film. I’m not thinking of anything else - - except keeping Greg from finding me. He already knows I’m in Paris. Let’s hope he doesn’t know why. See you in ten minutes.”

They met at the elevator and descended to the lobby dressed in jeans and running shoes, the same as Peter. Comfort was the theme of the day.

As they walked along toward the sidewalk cafe, Hildy looked around. To her dismay, the easy, lighthearted mood was gone, and in its place was an apprehension of disaster which surprised her.

Peter tried to reassure her. “Hildy, I’ve called an agency requesting a bodyguard for you. I’ve already hired guards to protect the people on the set. They’ll be screening everyone at the entrance to the studio and on location. Don’t worry. We’ll get someone to protect you personally. They said it might take a day or two to get someone who’s really good. Until they do, no one will harm you as long as you’re with us.”

Hildy wasn’t fully convinced. She rose to go to the newsstand, but returned to the table as soon as she purchased the newspaper. Her hands shook as she turned the pages.

A limousine with blacked out windows was waiting at the hotel to take them to the studio. Jenny didn’t hesitate to accept Peter’s invitation to join them. No one could see inside the limo, and Hildy felt safer. The shock of what almost happened yesterday still haunted her, like a ghost that refused to be put to rest.

Filming went smoothly for a first day, in spite of the danger that hung over them. Hildy felt more secure on the set, knowing that guards were placed all around. But she knew she would breathe more easily once she had a bodyguard of her own.

She kicked herself for being so fearful. Greg can’t possibly find me here. Paris is a big city. I’m sure he doesn’t know why I’m here, so he won’t be hunting me down at any film company. He doesn’t have a clue. I refuse to be afraid and let it spoil my enjoyment.

Filming ended around seven o’clock in the evening, and the limousine was waiting to drive them back to their hotel. They didn’t bother to change clothes, but headed straight for the dining room in their jeans.

As they walked in, the peace and serenity of the room and the music from the small orchestra was soothing after their hard day’s work. The beautiful strains of Debussey’s “La Mer” blended with the sound of the water flowing from the statuesque fountain in the middle of the room. Hildy closed her eyes, and for a moment she could swear she heard the ocean waves tumbling over the rocks and caressing the shore. A feeling of deep serenity washed over her and relaxed her whole body. What a beautiful setting for a new musical! she mused.

As she opened her eyes and looked around, she spied a man who had just entered the room. He was staring at her in a most peculiar manner - almost as though he knew her, or at least knew who she was - and her nervousness returned.

He was over six feet tall, and his face showed a strength of character that seemed to say he could handle any situation that came his way. I bet if I had him for a bodyguard, I wouldn’t have to worry about a thing, she thought.

She looked again. He was still staring at her, and her nervousness increased. Is he sizing me up? She shrugged her shoulders. I’m imagining things. She turned her attention to the menu, but her appetite had all but deserted her.

The man sat down at a nearby table. As he continued to stare, Hildy felt a sudden impulse to run and hide. No matter how hard she tried to convince herself that it was her imagination playing tricks on her, she continued to feel uneasy as they ate dinner. Her stomach was skipping rope.

Peter signed the tab, and they left to go to their rooms, leaving the man behind in the dining room. Hildy peeked at him out of the corner of her eye. When he didn’t get up and follow them she was sure she had been edgy over nothing.

The elevator shot up quickly to the twenty-fourth floor. “Maybe you’d like to have a nightcap in my room,” Peter suggested as they walked down the corridor. “We’ve had a long, hard day. We could unwind and discuss the shoot for tomorrow.”

Hildy hesitated. She was toying with an idea that came to her after seeing the man in the dining room, and she decided the time had come to test it. Somewhere in the back of her mind lurked a nagging feeling that Greg might have sent that man to spy on her. Testing her disguise on Peter seemed to be the perfect solution.

“If you don’t mind, Peter, I’d like to drop my things off first,” Hildy told him. “Jenny’s room is between yours and mine. Why don’t we meet there instead?”

“Fine,” he agreed. “I’ll leave my briefcase and be right over.”

Curiosity got the better of Jenny as she continued down the corridor with Hildy. “What’s going on in that head of yours? I can see the wheels turning at a hundred miles an hour.”

“Jenny - “ She paused. “Did you notice that man in the dining room who was staring at us?”

“Yes. Sometimes people stare when they see white and black people sitting together.”

“I don’t think that was it,” Hildy answered. “He made me very nervous. I hate to say it, but I have this gut feeling that Greg may have sent him to spy on me.”

“Oh, no, Hildy! Do you really think so?”

“Yes, I do.” Hildy was silent for a moment. Then she turned to Jenny. “I have an idea I want to try out. I think now is the perfect time.”

“What?” Jenny asked. “Can I help?”

“You certainly can. Here’s what I want you to do,” she told her. “Please, go along with me on this. My life may depend on it. I’m going to take off my wig and glasses and pretend I’m an old college chum of yours from France. I’ll speak with a French accent. I have to know if Peter recognizes me. If he doesn’t, then chances are very good that no one else will either, and I’ll be able to concentrate better on my work.”

Jenny looked skeptical.

“Jenny, it’s the only way I’ll know. What if Greg should follow me here?”

“Do you really think he would?”

“Jenny, when he finds out the bomb didn’t work, he’ll keep on trying till I’m dead!”

“But - but - “ Jenny stuttered, “how shall I introduce you to Peter? I mean, what name shall I use?”

“Here’s the plan,” Hildy said. “Go back to your room. I’ll knock on your door and pretend I’m an old friend who heard you were in town. Tell him I’m - uh - Renee. That’s a real French name, and sounds very authentic. Lots of models use just one name. Tell him you knew me in college and I’m a fashion model now. Peter has never seen what I look like without my disguise, and I have to know. It’s the only way I’ll feel safe.”

Jenny looked dubious. “I’m not sure I can carry this off.” “Please, Jenny,” Hildy pleaded.

“Okay,” she relented. “I’ll do my best.”

“Tell Peter I have a headache and I’ve gone to bed,” Hildy told her.

“Then what?”

“In a few minutes I’ll knock on your door. You answer. I’ll handle the rest. Just play along with me.”

Jenny nodded. “Okay,” she agreed, and left to go to her room.

Hildy donned a plain colored blouse that blended with one of the colors in her flowered skirt. A very Parisian look. To this she added high-heeled sandals. She looked like a model in a chic fashion boutique.

Next, she removed her wig and brushed through her long, wavy hair. Her flaxen locks fell gracefully over her shoulders and framed her angelic face. Her soft, brown eyes looked back at her from the mirror. Funny, she thought. My eyes seemed a much darker brown with the brunette wig. She looked so different it startled even her. We’ll see what happens when Peter sees me, she muttered under her breath.

She waited five minutes, threw her sparkling, sequined sweater over her shoulders in a casual manner, and went to Jenny’s room. She knocked on the door and Jenny answered.

“Bon Jour, Jennee!” she exclaimed in her best French accent. “I ‘eard you were ‘een town.”

She swept into the room with the same dramatic flourish a fashion model would use on a runway.

“Renee!” Jenny exclaimed. “What a surprise! Peter,” she said, doing her best to keep up the pretense, “I want you to meet an old college chum of mine. She’s a model.” She turned to Hildy. “Renee, this is Peter Graff.”

Peter showed no sign of recognition as he extended his hand. “Welcome, Renee! It’s nice to meet you. I take it you’re a native of France?”

Hildy grinned. “Mais oui, Peter! I ‘ave live’ ‘ere all my life except for college with mon amie!”

“We were just about to have some champagne. Would you like some?” Peter asked her.

With a mischievous gleam in her eye, Hildy tilted her head to one side in a coquettish manner and winked. “Am I Francais?” she asked him.

“Of course!” Peter grinned. “Be right back.”

He went over to the private bar, and was back in a few seconds holding three flutes filled with champagne.

Hildy and Jenny burst out laughing.

Peter looked puzzled. “What are you two giggling about?” Hildy winked and dropped the French accent. “Peter, don’t you know me?”

Peter was completely baffled. “What?” He took a closer look, and it slowly dawned on him. “Hildy?” He was so surprised he almost dropped the flutes of champagne. “Oh, it can’t be! Is it really you? Oh! You could fool anyone with that disguise! Only this isn’t a disguise, is it? This is the real you!”

Hildy laughed with relief. “Peter, you don’t know how much safer I feel. I’m sorry I had to drag Jenny into this, but I had to find out if I could fool Greg in case he should decide to follow me to France.”

Peter marveled at her ingenuity. “I forgive you both!” he said. “I’m glad you did this. It eases my mind, too.” He shook his head. “I’ll be! You look so different.”

“You’re sure you’re not mad?” Hildy asked him.

“Not at all!” he assured her. “I really was fooled!”

“I’m scared stiff Greg might follow me here,” she said. “Maybe I’m being paranoid, but I had to make sure he wouldn’t know me.”

Peter handed them each a glass of champagne and held up his own. “Here’s to a great disguise,” he toasted.

Hildy put down her glass. “Peter - Jenny - “ she said, “from now on I’m going to speak with a French accent. I’m going to add this to my disguise.”

“Great idea!” Peter agreed.

CHAPTER XIII
 

As soon as Hildy, Jenny, and Peter left the dining room, the man who had been staring at Hildy waited until he saw them enter the elevator. He quickly signed his check and went into the lobby to place a call to Boston.

“It’s Dan,” he spoke to Greg’s answering machine. “I can be reached at La Grande Veue Hotel on the Seine. I’m here in Room 2432.” He gave him the phone number and headed for the elevator. He arrived on the twenty-fourth floor while Hildy was still with Jenny and Peter. He headed toward his room, but as he passed by Jenny’s door he heard voices and laughter. With his sharp ears he couldn’t help hearing some of the conversation, and realized that Hildy was one of the people inside. He sped around the corner and waited.

It wasn’t long before she emerged from the room. Peter was with her. Although she looked different with her blond hair, he knew it was Hildy. It was the same voice he had heard when he eavesdropped on their conversation in the restaurant.

“See you in the morning,” he heard Peter say. “Get a good night’s sleep, Hildy. We have a lot of work to do tomorrow.”

“Good night, Peter. See you at eight for breakfast.”

They disappeared into their rooms. After making sure no one was aware of his presence, Daniel Zachary Davis went inside his room to retire for the night and do some thinking.

After a few moments he placed a call to the detective agency in Paris that had just placed an ad in the paper. “Film director needs bodyguard” - etc., it read, and he knew it was Peter Graff. I’ll answer the ad, and see what’s going on before I tell Mr. Wilcox that I’ve found her.

He couldn’t help wondering what Greg intended to do when he caught up with Hildy. He didn’t want to give him any clues on how to track her down, fearing he might be planning to harm her. Strange vibes were giving him strong misgivings about the whole setup.

* * *

Hildy slept fitfully that night, tossing and turning. What’s the matter with me? You know it’s next to impossible for Greg to find you here. She managed to get a couple of hours sleep before the wake-up call came from downstairs. She showered and dressed, and donned her wig and glasses.

Peter met Hildy and Jenny in the lobby, and they went to the sidewalk cafe where they had eaten the day before. After they sat down at their table, Peter spoke to Hildy.

“I hired your bodyguard. They tell me he’s very good.”

Jenny threw him an admiring glance. “You’re really a man of your word, aren’t you?”