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Fleur De Lies(97)

By:Maddy Hunter


            Motivations began cascading in my head. Her love/hate relationship with Victor. Her rage over the bonus check. Her contempt for Victor’s bevy of beauties. Anger. Greed. Jealousy. Holy crap. It was all there in plain sight … and we’d missed it.

            “Yes, she could have,” I cried as I riffled through my shoulder bag for my cell phone. “And we sent her to the hospital with him. What if the only reason she agreed to go was to finish him off while he—”

            “I’m really sorry to bother you ladies.” Cal Jolly came up behind us on cat’s feet. “It’s my dad. He’d like to speak to Emily. To the both of us, actually. About the ring. He’s acting pretty weird for Dad, so I’m kind of worried. It’s like he blew all his internal circuits at dinner and is blathering about stuff that doesn’t make any sense. I know it’s an imposition, and I apologize for asking, but could I drag you away for a few minutes? It seems really important to him.”

            “Uhhh—” I froze, my hand locked around my phone, torn between courtesy and obligation.

            “You go,” urged Jackie, whipping out her own phone. “I’ll make the call.”

            “But … do you know what to say?”

            “Emily! I’ve got it.” She shooed me away. “Where are you taking her?” she asked Cal.

            “My dad’s cabin. Number thirty-eight. I just hope he’s still there. Like I said, he’s not himself. It’s like he’s suddenly turned into an entirely different person.”

            _____

            Woody Jolly was pacing the floor when we arrived, the bluster gone from his demeanor. He greeted me with a nod before indicating that Cal and I should sit on the bed.

            We sat.

            He continued to pace.

            “I never should have left home,” he said in a voice that trembled with emotion. “But how could I know this would happen? No one ever figured it out. No one even suspected. It was my secret, and no one was any the wiser.”

            Acid bubbled up in my throat. Oh. My. God. My hunch had been right. It was him. He was the traitor.

            “Damn ring.” He tried to pull it off his finger, but it wouldn’t budge.

            “It’s not a Jolly family heirloom, is it?” I regarded him with forced indulgence.

            He shook his head.

            “Why’d you do it, Woody?”

            He shrugged. “I grew up thinking integrity was the most important virtue a man could have. And then, one day, I discovered it wasn’t.”

            “What took precedence over integrity?” asked Cal.

            “You have to ask?” He let out a humorless laugh. “Money, Cal. Money’s the only thing that matters in this world. Without it, you’re nothing.”

            “That’s the reason you did it?” I flung out. “Because the Nazis offered to pay for your betrayal?”

            He studied me with sober eyes. “There you go again. What the devil are you talking about?”

            “I’m talking about your being a Nazi collaborator. What are you talking about?”

            “I’m talking about being an imposter.”

            “A what?” squealed Cal.

            “He’s an imposter,” I repeated. “He’s the man who sold out his principles to the Germans for thirty pieces of silver, and his name is Pierre Lefevre.”