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“I hope to be back in a few days,” she said. “Thanks for checking in.”
She ended the call. Standing in the street, staring down at Nice and the town proper, she judged the airport and Arlo’s plane was within walking distance. The sun was beginning to set, a thin mist rolling in off the sea.
But she had the casino Tina had talked about on her list. It was the one they’d all drunkenly stopped at prior to getting on the plane to head to their next destination, the elite one, closer to the airport . . .Le Blanc.She needed to stop there, first, before she called it a night.
Daisy couldn’t say the prospects looked very good, though. Franklin, and the others, had clearly been drunk. They’d been drunk when they left Monte Carlo, and she knew she’d find more of the same in this new place. More drunken debauchery, but few answers.
Kiki Tate had been her best shot. Sure, she was a little frivolous and eccentric.
But Daisy also had the feeling she was telling the truth. Shewasin love with her husband, and his loss had really hurt her.
Yawning, she texted Arlo to meet her outside ofLe Blancso that they could go to the hotel —the least she could do was put him up in a hotel in downtown Nice for the night. It was better than setting off in that rattling cage of a prop plane, late at night.
Besides, she was so tired. The jet lag, the fact she hadn’t slept at all on the plane . . . she was practically seeing double.
First,Le Blanc. Then, bed.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Daisy easily found the main drag of Nice, with the casinos, restaurants, and shops. It was on the waterfront, and at that time of night, the street was lit up, crowded with tourists and locals alike, dressed in their best for a night out on the town.
But findingLe Blanc? That was a different story. She walked up and down the strip about five times before she gave up and decided to ask someone.
She noticed a group of rowdy young men on a corner, checking out the women in their tight, low-cut dresses. One was wearing a Dallas Cowboys cap. They clearly weren’t locals, but they looked far more comfortable than she felt, and she could hear them speaking English as she approached.
“Excuse me,” she said, as they parted to let her into their closed circle. “Do you happen to know where CasinoLe Blancis?”
A couple stared at her blankly, but another one tried to slip an arm around her. “I don’t know, but I can show you the inside of my hotel room, if you’d—”
The guys started to laugh, as Daisy quickly extricated herself from the man’s tentacles and continued on her way. So much for playing it safe and asking Americans. She needed to at least try to find someone who looked like they might actually go to an elite casino likeLe Blanc.
She saw a very tan, very attractive older man in a pale beige sweater and linen pants with no shoes, walking with a woman who couldn’t have been more than half his age. She was dripping in diamonds and wearing a fur, and his watch was obviously designer and expensive. He seemed to saunter down the sidewalk, as if he was a king, inspecting his domain.
“Excusez-moi,” she said, approaching him, trying to remember her French 101 from over fifteen years ago. “Searchez Le Blanc?”
He raised an eyebrow. “American, hmm?” he said, in a deep French accent. “That is absolutely the worst French I have ever heard.”
Next to him, his arm candy tittered, then stood on her tip-toes and whispered something light and airy into his ear.
He motioned her off and fixed Daisy with a stare, as she fought to keep the blood from rising to her cheeks.
“We were headed to dinner, first, but we planned to make a stop there, eventually. I can give you directions,” the man said, pointing forward along the street. “You keep going until you reach the pink café. There’s a narrow alley there. Take that, and you’ll find it.”
Before she could thank him, he strode on to a fancy restaurant and began to talk to the maître d, his girlfriend toddling beside him in her high heels.
Daisy followed the directions, finding the pink café and alley with relative ease. She paused at the alley, looking up and down. It was narrow and dark, just the kind of place a thief would drag a tourist to steal his wallet. But then a man in a tuxedo stumbled past her. He headed in, then turned and looked at her through glassy eyes.
He slurred something in an accent that she couldn’t quite make out. Was it English? His body stooped toward her, as he struggled to focus on her with eyes that seemed to want to roll back in his head.
“Excuse me?”
“You want to come with me?” he said slower, pointing down the alley.
She shrugged and went to follow him, but he quickly grabbed her arm and held it tight.
“Come, wee bairn. You and I have some fun, ken?”
Scottish,she realized as the alleyway opened up to a courtyard. She’d expected to see nothing but dumpsters from the businesses on the main street, but the courtyard was a secluded little oasis, with benches, potted plants, and white fairy lights glimmering overhead. The front of the casino was nondescript white stucco. A sign in regal script said,Casino Le Blanc,and two burly men in tuxedos stood in front of a solid black door.
