Page 92 of Mountain Security

“You’re the mayor’s chief of staff,” Alex said, arching his eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t she meet with you?”

The butler stood aside, letting them through into the most sumptuous library Yvette had ever seen. Except for the side that faced the mountains, which was glass, the remaining walls were covered in floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, all of them filled to bursting with books of all shapes and sizes.

Wow.

One could spend a long time in this room.

Movement to her left drew Yvette’s attention away from the books, and towards a pair of Eames lounge chairs and matching ottomans. Yvette almost laughed. No well-to-do French home was without the iconic chair.

A stylish older lady reclined in one of them. Her right leg, in a cast up to the knee, propped up on the ottoman.

“Forgive me if I don’t stand up,” the lady said.

Well, that answers one of the questions.

Alex must have thought so as well, because he didn’t bother asking about the Caribbean cruise. Instead, he focused on the rejected proposal.

“I don’t understand why you’re coming to talk about this now,”MadameBrockes said, attempting, with limited success, to raise her eyebrows. “This happened more than a year ago.”

“We just want to check on the proposal,Madame,” Alex said evenly, “before the deadline to submit an update expires.”

“Oh. Well, that is very kind, I’m sure. But I’m no longer considering that project. I’m glad the proposal was rejected, actually. It made me consider other options, and then I found this house. I’ve never been happier, and I’m only a few minutes away from the local golf course.”

“Well, that’s very good to hear,Madame,” Alex said. Yvette almost rolled her eyes.

“You’reEnglish.” She sounded delighted, as if she’d discovered she and Alex were long-lost cousins.

After refusing tea three times, they were finally escorted back outside by the impassive butler.

“It’s not here,” Yvette said, as they walked up to the car. To tell the truth, she was somewhere between relieved and disappointed.

On the ear piece, a voice laughed. “That’s very good to hear,Madame,” a deep voice said, imitating Alex’s British accent.

“Shut the hell up, Lorenz. I don’t make fun of you when you speak Dutch.”

“That’s because you can’t put on a Dutch accent to save your life,” Ry said, laughing. “Or an Australian one. Or any other accent.”

Alex shook his head in mock exasperation. “Okay, so we can definitely cross her off the list. We’ll meet you at the next address.”

31

* * *

Alex

What a waste of time.

They’d spoken to three more people from the list, visiting some of Chamonix’s most beautiful estates, but found absolutely nothing of interest. Yes, their proposals had been rejected, but everybody they’d spoken to had either moved on or were busy updating the files in order to put them forward again.

He turned to look at Yvette, who was still trying to recover her hand from the elderly gentleman’s grasp. The gentleman in question was holding on as if Yvette was the loveliest thing he’d seen all week.

Alex had to agree with him. She was a vision, as pretty in her dark blue jeans and cream-colored cashmere sweater as she’d been in an evening gown.

Yvette smiled and nodded, finally getting her hand back.

At least someone’s pulling in some new voters.

“We’re on our own for the next one,” Alex said. “Lorenz and Ry have been called in to help with a rockfall in the Couloir du Gouter.”

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