Title: Peril in Provence
Series: The Mary Grey Mysteries, Book Four
Author: Winnie Frolik
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: 09/03/2024
Heat Level: 2 – Fade to Black Sex
Pairing: Female/Female
Length: 60400
Genre: Historical Mystery, Genre/lit, crime, historical, lesbian, 1930s, Provence, Paris, private detective, murder, chateau, painter
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Description
When Mary Grey hears that Harriet West has been arrested for murder in the beautiful and quaint French town of Munier they take the next train out. To their shock, Harriet confesses to the killing but swears it was self-defense. As they try to piece together the truth, more than one skeleton is unearthed in this seemingly sleepy community.
Peril in Provence
Winnie Frolik © 2024
All Rights Reserved
They arrived in Paris shortly after breakfast. Shaefer had traveled there before, but it was Mary’s first time. In fact, it was the first time Mary had ever been out of England at all. This was the very year the Paris Expo was being held, and under different circumstances, Mary would have been anxious to see it, particularly the Spanish pavilion with its supposedly shocking painting Guernica by that Picasso fellow. But there was simply no time to visit the Expo or to see any of the sights of Paris at all. Rather, a phone call to Harriet’s solicitors in England had gotten them money wired on credit as well as the name of a prominent Parisian attorney, Jean François Jorisse, who wanted to meet them. They immediately hailed a cab, and so all Mary saw of Paris were a few glimpses through the window of a speeding vehicle.
Jorisse’s offices lay in a quiet, yet prosperous-looking street of limestone buildings overhung with crawling ivy. Shaefer and Mary walked up a flight of dimly lit stairs to ring a buzzer, then down a corridor to a young woman at a reception desk. An extremely chic, fashionable young woman who wore an expression of determined ennui. She said nothing but with a tilt of her head indicated Mary and Shaefer could go in through an unlocked door. This led them into Jorisse’s office, a good-sized room decorated in a surprisingly modern style with sleek Danish furniture. On the wall hung several frighteningly abstract paintings made up of dark colors, squiggly lines, and no recognizable shapes. It was exactly the sort of art that Harriet had favored and which Mary had never quite understood the point of.
Jorisse was a distinguished-looking man of about fifty years of age with a heavyset figure, silver hair at his temples, and a perfectly trimmed mustache and beard. His suit was well tailored, and he smelled of expensive perfume. Well, technically it was called “cologne” rather than perfume, but what Jorisse wore was a finer and more flowery scent than you’d ever catch being worn by most British women let alone men. One could also tell at first glance that unlike any British lawyer there was no possible circumstance in which Jorisse would ever wear tweed. Nor did he seem the sort of fellow you could prevail on for a round of golf or, indeed, any rigorous outdoor activity at all. One modern trend Jorisse fiercely resisted was the cult of physical exercise.
“Bonjour,” he greeted them, holding out a manicured hand for Shaefer to shake. “Your reputation precedes you, Monsieur Shaefer.”
“You’ve heard of me?” Shaefer was pleasantly surprised by both the cordiality of the greeting and the firmness of the handshake.
“But of course! Even in Paris, we have heard all about the great detective Franz Shaefer.” Jorisse smiled. “It is an honor to meet you in person!” He added as a clear afterthought, “And you too, Mademoiselle…Grey? I did pronounce it correctly?”
“You did,” Mary confirmed.
“I understand Harriet West contacted both of you,” Jorisse continued thoughtfully, examining Mary. For while Shaefer’s presence was understandable, Mary Grey was something of a riddle, one he couldn’t quite unravel.
“Miss Grey is my dear friend and associate,” Shaefer cut in smoothly. “She was also involved in the investigation into the death of Anthony West last winter.”
“Ah, of course.” Jorisse smiled. “That explains it! But where are my manners? Both of you sit! Get comfortable.” They both did sit, though neither could do so with any degree of comfort in the modern Danish chairs.
“What do you know so far?” Jorisse began.
“Absolutely nothing, except that Miss West was just arrested for murder and that she has retained you as local counsel,” Shaefer responded.
Mary broke in, “Now whatever the hell is going on? How can Harriet be accused of murder in some place called Muh-neer?”
“Non, it is pronounced Munier,” Jorisse gently corrected her. “Now, the facts are quite simple. As you may have known, Miss West spent considerable time this summer in the French Riviera, primarily in Cannes. It was there she met Madame Hortense Dellaire. The Dellaires are a very old, very proud family in Provence. It seems that she and Harriet West became quite friendly and Madame Dellaire invited her to an extended visit at her family chateau near the medieval town of Munier. Miss West was not the only guest Madame Dellaire invited, or even the only foreigner. There was an American journalist, Bill Holbrook.” He paused significantly. “It is he who Mademoiselle West killed.”
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Born and raised in Pittsburgh, the Carnegie Library in Oakland was always my second home. I was diagnosed as being a high functioning autistic in college. I hold a useless double major in English literature and creative writing. I’ve worked at nonprofit agencies, in food service, and most recently as a dog-walker/petsitter but the siren song of writing keeps pulling me back into its dark grip. I have co-authored a book on women in the US Senate with Billy Herzig, self-published The Dog-Walking Diaries, and in 2020 my first novel Sarah Crow was published by One Idea Press. I live in my hometown Pittsburgh with my better half, Smoky the Cat. Learn more on Facebook.
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