“Well, it’s a start,” said Lucy, determined not to let her daughter spoil her vacation. “Look! Lilies!” She pointed to the price, which was displayed on a card. “And so cheap!”

“It’s euros, Mom, not dollars,” said Elizabeth, adding, “Believe me, nothing here is what it seems.”

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

I never should have had that coffee with Elizabeth and Sylvie, thought Lucy, and she was doubtful that the waiter’s promise that her after-dinner café Américain was decaf was actually true, because here she was, wide awake on the sofa bed in the great gray room, lying beside Bill, who was snoring steadily despite his afternoon nap. It was an odd feeling, she decided, being absolutely bone-tired and still not able to sleep.

She reached out to the Lucite coffee table and checked the time on her cell phone: 2:30 a.m. That would be something like 9:30 or 10:30 p.m. at home, which was her usual bedtime. So why wasn’t she asleep?

Pounding the pillow, she flipped over and closed her eyes tight, determined to will herself to sleep. Finding that impossible, she rolled over onto her back and decided to work out what was bothering her. She was physically tired, the bed was comfortable, and she was tucked in beside the man she loved. Check. So the problem was emotional; some unresolved issue was preventing her mind from shutting down. Everything was fine back home in Tinker’s Cove. She’d spoken to her son, Toby, earlier that evening, and he had assured her that her daughters Sara and Zoe were settling in fine with him and his wife, Molly, apparently enjoying the chance to spend time with their little nephew, Patrick.

No, she knew perfectly well it wasn’t anxiety about the situation in Tinker’s Cove that was keeping her awake. It was her worries about Elizabeth. She had hoped that when she actually saw her daughter in Paris, she would discover that her complaints were largely unfounded, that she’d been exaggerating about her unhappiness. But now that she’d seen the apartment, and the roommate, she had to admit that Elizabeth’s situation was less than ideal.

Another girl would shrug her shoulders and get on with her life, making the best of things, but that girl was not Elizabeth. Elizabeth was a perfectionist, she tended to see things as black or white, and she had a priggish streak. She rarely ate meat, she didn’t smoke or drink, she certainly didn’t indulge in drugs, and Lucy suspected she was rather prudish when it came to sex. She’d had a serious boyfriend in Florida, Chris Kennedy, but hadn’t mentioned him much lately, except to say he had achieved his lifelong dream of becoming a government agent and was involved in some sort of lengthy training program. But Lucy had no idea whether it was the FBI, CIA, or some other agency.