This time Lucy was the one who turned away. She no longer felt the least shred of sympathy for either young man.

“You had a close call,” said Serge, with a nod at the coffin containing Sylvie’s body. He slipped his arm around Elizabeth’s waist, supporting her.

“Not that close,” said Chris, bristling. “I was here, and I wasn’t going to let anything bad happen to Elizabeth.”

“You could’ve acted a little sooner,” complained Elizabeth. “I was really scared.”

“We had to wait long enough to get evidence,” said Chris.

“So I was like a pawn? How far were you going to let them go?” demanded Elizabeth.

“Let’s talk about it over dinner,” suggested Chris.

Elizabeth did not seem inclined to accept his invitation, so Lucy intervened. “Good idea. We’re all going to Le Grand Colbert tonight. Why don’t you both join us? I bet you’ve got a lot to tell us, Chris.”

“Only if Serge can come, too,” said Elizabeth.

“Of course,” said Lucy, who knew when it was time to cut her losses. “We’d be delighted if Serge would join us.”

“I would be honored,” said Serge, taking her hand and kissing it.

Looking over Serge’s shoulder, Lucy got the clear impression that Chris was not delighted.

A woo-wah siren broke the silence, and the diminished group of mourners watched as the police cars left the cemetery, lights flashing. Then they gathered once again around the open grave and prepared to commit Sylvie’s body to the earth, to eternity.

That evening the group gathered at a long table against the back wall of the bistro, where Sue informed them they had to have the chicken, because that was what Diane Keaton had in the movie Something’s Gotta Give, when she jilted Keanu Reeves and admitted she really loved Jack Nicholson.

“I would’ve stuck with Keanu Reeves,” said Sue, grinning wickedly at Elizabeth, who was seated with Serge on one side and Chris on the other. Serge looked very continental, wearing a silky black T-shirt beneath his suit jacket, while Chris was the all-American boy in a button-down oxford shirt and boxy blue blazer.

“Not me,” said Lucy. “Keanu was a little too . . .”

“Young?” offered Rachel.

Lucy searched for the right word. “He was too nice. Jack was a bit of a diamond in the rough.”

While the conversation was aimed at Elizabeth, she seemed oblivious and was thoroughly enjoying the attention of her two rival swains. Bill noticed, too, and decided to put an end to it.

“Okay, guys,” he said. “I think we deserve an explanation.” He gave Serge a nod. “Let’s start with Chef Larry and the black market ring.”