ire on the new arrivals.
“And who are you?” he said. “Are you the captain I asked to speak with?”
“Captain?” John wrinkled his nose. He chuckled. “I am Agent Renee. This is Agent Sharp. DGSI. We had a few questions for you.”
“DGSI?” Mr. Bich said, stunned. Not only was he quite small, but he also had a timid, mouse-like face with a weak chin and an attempt at a mustache that bordered on indecent.
The man looked at John, examining the tall, muscled agent, and instantly Adele detected a note of envious dislike.
“I was telling your goons,” the man said, waving fingers toward the other officers, “no warrant, no entry.” He crossed his arms over his small chest.
Adele exhaled slowly, quietly, closing her eyes for the faintest moment as if to stave off a headache. And then she moved over to the stone steps and, in John-like fashion, sat square in the middle of the step, looking up at the vineyard owner.
“Mr. Bich,” she said, “we have no interest in causing you trouble. I’m happy to speak with you out here.” She patted the stone slab next to her, expectantly.
For a moment, Mr. Bich just stared at her, but then, glancing uncertainly from John to the officers, he said, “You’re not allowed to—”
“No one will enter your vineyard. Nor the building,” Adele said, quietly. She simply wasn’t in the mood to push on this front. “We’re not here about your business.”
The man hesitated. “You’re not?”
Adele insistently patted the stone step next to her, her eyes tracing another fountain set in the side of the patio. This ornament depicted a small cherubic child with wings and a jar of wine overflowing with fountain water. She massaged the bridge of her nose and noted John watching her with an amused glint in his eye.
Eventually, Mr. Bich slowly sat on the very edge of the stone step as if preparing to lurch up and bolt at a moment’s notice. Again, Adele was struck by his quick, timid twitching and his nervous swallowing.
Once he’d seated himself in front of his main building, she said, “Sir, if you don’t mind, we’re here regarding a Ms. Gueyen.”
The man’s face went pale. A poker player, he was not. He stared at her, stumbling and bumbling over words a bit before coughing dryly into a hand and looking off with a slanted gaze toward the marble fountain. “What about her?” he said, the last word practically squeaking.
Adele shot a look at John, who widened his eyes and shrugged once.
She looked back at Mr. Bich. “Sir,” she said, slowly. “I can’t help but notice—and I do apologize for saying so—but you don’t seem to be particularly comfortable. Is there something you’d like to tell me?”
Now, he rounded on her. But the pale tinge to his cheeks was slowly being replaced by a reddish hue. He winced and stammered a bit, but then seemed to build up a head of steam, and loud enough so the officer who’d driven them, still waiting in the car, could hear, he shouted, “Whatever that little bitch is accusing me of, it never happened! She’s a drama queen and a liar! That’s why I fired her in the first place! There was no sexual harassment—none, zero, zilch. Understand? She’s making it up. Besides,” he added quickly, stammering and stuttering like someone bumbling around a toolshed in search of a weapon, “she stole from me—yes, it’s true. A bottle of my finest. I had to fire her. She made up that stuff about sexual harassment when—”
“Sir,” Adele said, softly. “Ms. Gueyen is dead.”
She went very still, watching his expression. And again, it morphed as if his subconscious were authoring a book in real time and opening it wide over his countenance. She studied him as his cheeks turned pale again and his eyes went wide. He stared at her, jaw unhinged and, for the first time since she’d arrived, seemed at a genuine loss for words.
“Dead?” he managed to gasp out.
Adele nodded once, still sitting on the dusty stone step. “Just so. We’re not here about any harassment.”
“I—I… I thought,” he stammered, staring now from John to the other officers as if wondering if this were some sort of prank. “I thought she’d… she’d threatened to go to the cops, and… I thought… When they mentioned her name… A shame… a real shame; she was a good girl. Very fond of her. Very fond.” He now rounded on the first group of officers who were watching the