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and they
couldn’t resist finding out more. Neither Desiree nor Sam were able to resist a
good mystery and this was certainly one.
    Most of the stuff was inside the house now, so Desiree got
off the car she’d been leaning on. Any neighbor who was nosy enough would have
seen her by now, just as intended. If they were going to be invited into the
inner circle of this community, people now knew they were here, moving in two
doors down from the Jenilham family. Based on what Sam had uncovered back at
headquarters, they were right in the center of the mystery around the tragic
accident near Toulouse, but it wasn’t clear how yet. Both Desiree and Sam were
convinced the tragedy had been less accidental than it appeared but mystery
shrouded the details.
    The movers had taped down cardboard over the stone floor of
the entryway and Desiree ripped at it now. She wouldn’t be able to close the
front door fully without removing it. They’d used strong tape and Desiree had
to pull hard, breaking a light sweat. She became so engrossed in what she was
doing, she almost jumped out of her skin when someone cleared their throat
behind her.
    “Oh my God!” She braced herself against the open front door.
Off balance, she’d almost fallen over when the stranger startled her. She
really was going to have to be more alert.
    “I’m so sorry!”
    Desiree looked into the eyes of a very thin blonde woman.
She wore no makeup and was also dressed for a workout. Desiree pursed her lips
and tried to quell the anger bubbling inside her. She hated when people snuck
up on her, not because they had, but because she had let them. It meant her
guard was down and she’d learned that was never a good state to be in.
    “Don’t worry about it.” Sam had taught her if she just
waited, people would make the reason for their presence known.
    “I’m looking for the homeowner.” She looked past Desiree
into the room behind her.
    Desiree bristled. Even if her accent hadn’t given her away,
Desiree would have known by her rudeness she was an American. “That would be
me.” She wanted to give the woman benefit of the doubt. What about her made her
look un-homeowner like?
    “Oh. Really?” She paused. “You look so—”
    “Young?”
    The woman laughed nervously. “Yes, that’s it. You look about
sixteen. I was expecting someone much older. Your husband—?”
    “Working.” In the space of less than a minute, she’d been interrogated.
Whether intentional or not, Desiree already felt as if her visitor was prying.
    The one-word explanation seemed to satisfy her. She nodded
with a half-smile now replacing the surprise of a few seconds earlier. “Aren’t
they all? My husband works all the time too. Do you work?”
    Desiree took a deep breath, then laughed nervously. “Wow.
People around here sure ask for a lot of information before they even share their
names.” Would she be water-boarded next? She forced a broad smile onto her
face. “No,” she said. “I don’t.” Her cover for this job was no cover. “I own a
business, but I haven’t really gotten going in France yet. I’m working on it.”
The Desiree who lived on this street was a housewife with no kids and no
extended family and was just starting out. “I’m sorry, what’s your name? I
didn’t catch it.”
    Another nervous laugh fell from the woman’s lips. “Silly me!
I was so excited to have a new neighbor, I forgot my manners. My name is
Kimberly Brown. I live a few doors down. We’ll get to be great friends. We are
all real close around here. In fact, we adults get together every other Friday.
“
    Kimberly talked so quickly, her words were making Desiree
tired. “Oh? That doesn’t seem very French.” She put on her brightest smile and
let the woman continue.
    “Oh honey, it’s not. Like almost everyone else in this
complex, we’re ex-pats. Americans who do everything they can to not have to
leave France. We love it here. You’ll see.” She paused a bit, glancing