Page 138 of Gone Before Goodbye

Porkchop crosses his arms. “That’s the, uh, gentleman who took you on the plane.”

“Yep. The one you told to keep your daughter-in-law safe and happy. I think your exact words to him were, ‘Don’t make me have to find you.’”

Porkchop lets himself smile. “Shows the power of my threats,” he says. “What does Nadia’s tracker show?”

“Ivan Brovski landed at Bordeaux-Mérignac Airport a few hours ago.”

Porkchop arches an eyebrow. “You don’t say.”

“Oh, but I do.”

“So maybe I’ll have the chance to ‘find’ him, after all.”

Porkchop makes a few calls on the platform—someone had clearly given Porkchop a mobile phone before he headed overseas—and then he and Maggie board the Eurostar for the journey to Paris. The train can travel 186 miles per hour and includes a thirty-one-mile railway tunnel that goes under the English Channel.

As they board, Porkchop says, “Did you know that the term ‘Chunnel’ is a portmanteau of ‘Channel’ and ‘Tunnel’?”

“If you say so.”

“‘Portmanteau’ was on my New-Word-A-Day calendar last month.”

“I figured.”

“It means a word blending the sound and combining the meaning of two other words.”

“Great.”

“Other portmanteaus include ‘brunch’—breakfast and lunch—and ‘motel’—motor and hotel.”

“Yeah, I get it, Porkchop.”

“First time I’ve gotten to use the word.”

“You must be very proud.”

They find their seats.

“You have more to tell me,” Porkchop says.

“I do.”

“But we are both exhausted. We have two and a half hours on the Eurostar before we get to Paris. Then we go from the Gare du Nord to Montparnasse to take a TGV train to Bordeaux. That’s also over two hours.”

“How do you know all this?”

Porkchop gives her the eyebrow arch. “Trace isn’t the only Francophile, you know.”

“We’re going to need a place to stay in Bordeaux.”

“Already taken care of.” He holds up his phone. “We will be staying at the owner’s private guesthouse at Château Smith Haut Lafitte. I told them we’d be fine at the Les Sources de Caudalie—that’s their five-star hotel—but Florence insisted we’d be more comfortable in the guesthouse.”

“Florence?”

“The vineyard’s owner.”

“Uh-huh.”

“She’s an old friend.”