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“Hey, we made contact with Claudia St. Martine,” said Code, walking into the conference room the next morning.

“And?” came the echoed response. He just grinned at them.

“She was disbelieving, of course. She said she’d given up on her daughter ages ago and thought it was a hoax. Unfortunately, she doesn’t want to see Jenna right now, but she’s willing to speak to our team and see photos of her.”

“Alright,” nodded Nine. “Send four of our French speakers.”

“I’ll go,” said Gaspar. “In fact, I’ll take Marie and Camille. They speak better French than I do, and maybe having a woman there will be comforting to her. Tell Baptiste and Gabe to pack their shit. They’re coming too.”

“Will do,” said Code. “Should we say anything to Jenna?”

“No. Not right now,” said Ghost. “If Claudia rejects her, I don’t want Jenna to know that. I assume we’re traveling to France.”

“She has a home in the south of France, near Cannes. She said she’d arrange for us to be picked up from the airport there and brought to a restaurant in the city. She didn’t feel comfortable having us at her home.”

“Paranoid. That’s interesting,” frowned Nine. “Are you sure you don’t want more men coming with you?”

“Naw. Between Gabe, Baptiste, and me, we should be fine. Besides, Camille and Marie count as ten of us.”

“I won’t tell them you said that,” smiled Nine.

An hour later, they were on the jet and headed toward France. The women had been surprisingly prepared and didn’t argue about how much luggage they needed. When Gaspar said it would only be two to three days, they knew it would most likely be less than that.

“This woman must have a lot of mixed emotions about potentially seeing her daughter again,” said Marie. “I can’t imagine that feeling.”

“It’s funny, but Code said she was skeptical and seemed distrustful,” said Gaspar.

“Do you blame her?” asked Camille. “Your daughter has been missing for more than fifty years, and suddenly, strangers say that they’ve found her.

Can you imagine how many people claimed they had her daughter, or knew where she was located, even tried to pawn off another child on her? It must have been horrible for her.

“That woman had a funeral, a burial, all of it. She’s in her eighties now. It’s not enough time to even have a discussion of what her life has been like.”

“This is why we brought the two of you,” smirked Gaspar. “Having a little feminine wisdom helps in this situation.”

After a long nap and a hot meal, they arrived in Cannes and, as promised, were greeted by a driver.

“Madames, et Monsieurs Robicheaux,” he said with a perfect French accent.

“Yes. I mean, oui,” said Gaspar. He only spoke French on rare occasions to his parents or siblings. Being away from the language had made him forgetful and probably unable for anyone to understand him.

“It’s alright, monsieur. I speak English, as does Madame St. Martine.”

“I guess I didn’t need you guys after all,” said Gaspar. “If you want to go shopping or something, you could do that.”

“Are you kidding? I came to meet this woman, and I’m going to meet her,” said Camille. “I want to see her reaction when she sees the photos of Jenna.”

“Are you expecting a strange reaction?” asked Baptiste.

“I don’t know. It’s just something that I think will tell me a lot about that woman. It kind of bothers me that she didn’t move heaven and earth to find her or at least find a body. I would have. Mama damn sure would have,” said Camille.

“I agree with Camille,” said Marie. “It’s something a mother would have done.”

“Do you think she’s involved somehow?” asked Gabe.

“I think everyone is involved,” said Marie. “We just have to find out why and how.”

“Maybe they need to be part of the security team,” smirked Gaspar. Marie raised her eyebrows at her older brother, giving him a sly smirk.

“We’ve been telling you that for years.”

The streets of Cannes were far more beautiful than photos portrayed them. Expensive shops, small over-priced bistros and coffee shops, and the marina lined with mega-yachts and sailing vessels. It was purely magical.

And far too much for the humble Robicheaux clan.

“Let’s get this done and get home,” said Baptiste.

The driver expertly wound his way through the streets of Cannes, finally stopping at a beautiful three-story restaurant on the water. He opened the doors and waved them inside the restaurant.

“Madam St. Martine is waiting for you.”

“How will we know her?” asked Camille.

“She’s the only person in the restaurant. She owns this establishment, and it’s closed to guests until your business is concluded.” The siblings raised their brows at one another and nodded their thanks to the driver.

The restaurant had a beautiful interior with a mix of French countryside and seaside nostalgia. In the corner, at a large table, sat an older woman. She was very small with snow-white hair and thick glasses.

“Madame St. Martine?” asked Gaspar.

“Yes.Obviously.”

“I’m Gaspar Robicheaux. These are my siblings, Marie, Camille, Baptiste, and Gabriel.” This time, her brows raised as she nodded.

“Your parents are good French Catholics,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Yes, ma’am. They are. Our parents had fifteen children. Nine boys and six girls.”

“They were very lucky,” she said with a sad expression. “Genevieve was my only child. I could have no others.”

“I’m so sorry. But the good news is that she’s alive. We’ve matched her blood type and DNA with the tests that were used during the kidnapping investigation.”

She pursed her lips, nodding her head up and down.

“And what is it you want? Do you want some sort of reward for this? Because the reward offer was retracted many years ago. I am in no mood for scams.”

Speechless, they looked at one another and couldn’t think of anything to say. Then, Camille and Marie sat down beside the woman.

“May I call you Claudia?” asked Camille. “I have a twin, Claudette.”

“How lovely,” she said quietly.

“You’ll forgive me, Claudia, but you don’t seem like a woman who is happy to find out that her daughter is alive. I can assure you that if it were my child, I’d be dancing in the streets. I would have jumped on the first plane to America and be reunited with her.”

“But she’s not your daughter. Allegedly, she’s mine. Leave the blood work and DNA tests that you have. I’ll have my own team compare them, and I’ll get back with you.”

“Wait. That’s it?” frowned Baptiste. Gabriel stared at the woman, trying to figure out her game.

“Are you joking with me right now? We don’t want shit from you.

Let’s make that very clear. We don’t need your money or any of your ill-gotten gains from the criminal empire your husband left you. ”

“I do not have a criminal empire. My late husband did. I do not. My businesses are legitimate and quite successful.”

“Fine. We don’t want your damn legitimate businesses. But we have a woman, safe, happy, healthy but very confused, back home who wants to meet her real mother.” The woman’s head popped up, and she stared at the handsome man.

“Was she ill-treated?” asked Claudia.

“No. Not to our knowledge. She said they had a hard life. It wasn’t a wealthy one, but she seemed somewhat happy. She joined a convent after high school.”

Again, the woman gave no indication that she was pleased, angry, curious, or any other emotion. She just sat still.

“Thank you for bringing this information to me. I’ll have my team review all the data, and I will contact you.”

Effectively dismissed, Gaspar and his brothers stood from the table. Marie pushed back and then looked at the woman, shaking her head.

“If you had any idea of what you’re missing out on, you’d be on that plane with us.

” She pushed a photo of Jenna toward the woman.

She was laughing, a piece of cake in front of her.

Her hair was tucked behind her ear, but her smile was bright and cheerful.

“In case you’re interested, that’s your daughter, and she’s a remarkable, resilient, beautiful woman. ”

The siblings turned, leaving the restaurant and the old woman at her table.

She picked up the photo and stared at the face smiling back at her. With shaking hands, she touched the corner of the photo to the candle on the table and then set the photo on the plate, watching as it burned to ashes.

Outside, they waited for the car to return to take them to the airport. There was no reason to stay if Claudia was not going to at least ask questions of them.

“What now, Gaspar? I don’t want to go back and tell Jenna that she doesn’t want anything to do with her,” said Marie.

“Gabe? What do you think?” asked Gaspar.

“I’m not sure. I sensed a lot in her. Curiosity, caution, and fear. Not of us but of something else.”

“Fear of what?” whispered Camille.

“I’m not sure, but I think we need to find a way to speak with Lydia Cipriani.

She’s the other half of this coin, and I fear we need her side of the story to finish this out.

Both widows, both survivors and running their husband’s businesses.

It all seems very planned to me. Maybe not planned but too convenient. ”

“So we’re off to Italy?” asked Marie.

“No. We go home first, and then we’ll decide how to proceed. Besides, none of us speak Italian.”

“We didn’t need our French with her,” said Baptiste. “I’d venture to say we won’t need our Italian with Cipriani.”