“It’s not a secret. It made the news in France. But news cycles have a way of moving on, especially these days.” He pauses again.
“Where is he now?”
Gideon gives a soft snort. “He disappeared again. Shortly after he arrived in Paris. Just slipped into the ether. But he’s a free man. He’s done his time. France is part of the EU—he wouldn’t have needed to show a passport to cross European borders, if traveling by land.”
Poppy blows out air. Her hands are gripping her armrests.
Holy shit, this man knows how to set hooks and rustle up hype for his next book.
“If you had to guess, where do you think Vincent might be now?”
“He was released from a Kathmandu jail a penniless old man. No home, no income. He’d be needing financial resources first and foremost. He’s probably out conning again as we speak. Except his demographic is likely to be older. Seniors, particularly vulnerable older women with a lot of wealth, for example. And his cons will be sophisticated. Remember, Vincent is a master of the long con—he’d be playing a big game.”
Sophia slowly sits back in her big comfy-looking chair. “There you have it, folks—breaking news from bestselling author Dr. Gideon Marsh’s own lips. And a mighty big hook for his next book.”
Loud applause ensues.
“Gideon will now take questions from the audience.”
The auditorium lights brighten slightly as guests’ hands eagerly shoot into the air, burning with questions. A crew member with a mike begins to move through the audience.
Before Poppy realizes it, another full hour has passed and Sophia calls a cap on the event. She comes to her feet.
“Thank you, everyone. And thank you, Gideon, for a riveting launch of theOrchid’s Midnight Salon Series.”
Members of the audience rise to their feet as thunderous applause erupts. Gideon stands and takes a small bow, and the clapping continues. Sophia tries to call out over the noise.
“Dr. Marsh will be signing complimentary books outside in the foyer, where he might be able to address a few more questions.”
When the applause finally dies, chatter rises, and guests begin to file out the doors. Poppy turns to Lillith.
“That was amazing, don’t you think?”
Lillith nods. She looks tired and incredibly pale. A seed of sudden concern unfurls in Poppy.
“Are you feeling okay? Would you like to come with me to get books signed? Or do you want to go back to the suite?”
“You know, dear, I think I’m done. I need my meds, and honestly today has depleted me. You go get your books signed. I’ll head back to my room.”
“Would you like me to come with you?”
“I can manage.” She reaches for her cane.
“Are you sure?”
“As sure as I ever am about anything.” She gives a weak smile.
Poppy frowns.
Lillith appears deeply worried as well as exhausted, and Poppy fears the ALS might be moving faster than she feared.
Roshaan
Roshaan is bone tired as the hours tick toward dawn, but finally the crowd at Dr. Marsh’s signing table begins to thin to a trickle. All the while, wind outside has been building, and the ship pitches more and more. The movement on top of her fatigue and anxiety is making her queasy.
As Dr. Marsh signs the last copy, she steps forward.
“Can I get you anything else, Dr. Marsh? Or shall we call it a night—or morning, rather?”
