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Epilogue
THE NEXT MORNING IT WAS AROUND eleven thirty, that dead time after breakfast and before lunch, when Javert showed up on the terrace. Along with Rocco.
“Good morning.” Rachel went over to them as if they were any other customers. “We’re still serving the breakfast menu.” She pointed to the card on the table, realizing too late it had the rental sticker on it. Oh well, what the fuck. Literally.
“We’ll both get the croissants, and some coffee,” Javert said.
“No over easy?”
“Not right now. We’d like to talk, if you’re not too busy.” All the other tables were empty.
“I, uh, do a lot of the work in the kitchen before lunch. I can’t just sit out here and talk with you. I’m close to getting fired as it is. If they see me goofing off…”
With that, she went inside to place their orders.
“Isn’t that Rocco?” Elise whispered when she got into the kitchen. “He’s got a lot of nerve. Who’s the other one?”
“Inspector Javert?”
“Javert? You’ve got to be kidding me. What do they want?”
“Who knows? They want to talk to me, but I’m working.”
“Tell them you have a lunch break at two. If they want to wait that long.”
“Or they can rent you.” That was from Tony, the head chef. “But we all get to watch. I want to see Mata Hari in action.”
Mata Hari. She’d told Elise everything, babbling out an incoherent confession, but apparently that had been a mistake. Now she had a new nickname. One that was going to be hard to get rid of.
“Just don’t leave any dead bodies.”
That parting shot as she walked back out with the coffee and pastries.
“I can talk to you if you rent me.” With that, she set down the tray and turned around to go back into the kitchen. A tug on the back of her little apron stopped her.
“We can’t just, like, pay you the rates and just talk?” That from Rocco. He had come over wearing clothes, running shorts and a tank top.
She shook her head and headed back into the kitchen. Another tug on the apron, so hard it almost fell off.
“What?”
“How about you give me a blow job, or at least pretend to?”
“How about I bite your balls off? Fifty euros, up front. And it’s five minutes and that’s it. Pull your shorts down.” She hated doing this on the terrace. There was a nice soft carpet in the restaurant to cushion her knees, but the terrace was all terrazzo. Slippery if it ever rained. “Wait.” She retrieved a couple of napkins to use as pads.
“First, I want to say how sorry I am.”
She had all of his prick and balls in her mouth, not that much of a challenge when he was limp. She bit down a little to let him know she was not pleased with that remark.
“You set me up.” She withdrew to spit that out. He was getting hard. She didn’t know if she should be flattered or totally offended.
“Sit on my lap so we can talk.”
She couldn’t bear to face him, sitting that close. Instead, she turned around to squat down, and he actually had the gall to impale her. “So what do you want to talk about? You have,” she glanced at her watch, “three and a half minutes left.”
“I didn’t set you up. Not exactly.”
“Bullshit. Did you really swim back from the yacht?”
“Well yes, but it wasn’t quite as far. They brought me in close to shore.”
“To get me?”
“Sort of.”
“Sort of?” His balls were sticking out on the chair seat. She punched them as hard as she could.
“No dead bodies.” That from the kitchen reminded her that people were watching. Probably the entire kitchen staff.
“You were supposed to be there to begin with. The sheikh saw you on the last show, the one that got hacked, and he assumed you had joined the group. He was very disappointed when you didn’t show up on the yacht. And weren’t you ready to do anything to save your friends?”
“Maybe not that. So you knew that I was going to be kidnapped?”
“Nestor told me that it was important that we keep things going.”
“Nestor? What the fuck does Nestor have to do with it? Mon Dieu! Speak of the devil!”
There he was, walking onto the terrace, over dressed in a dark suit, not the blue one he had worn in the restaurant how many nights ago? Three? Four? Walking in with a very pretty blonde wearing a short skirt and big leather boots. Limping a bit as she leaned on his arm.
“Anna.”
“Rachel.” She reached out a hand. Rachel was sitting there with a dick up her ass, her lap apron up around her waist, her knees pulled up and spread apart to show how that dick was creating a bulge beneath her pussy. She tried to free herself, but Rocco kept her locked in place.
“Your five minutes are up.” Rachel struggled to get up, to smooth her apron down, to regain a shred of dignity. It didn’t help that she could feel something trickling down the inside of her thighs. “Would you two like to order? We’re starting to serve lunch now, but you can still order from the breakfast menu.”
“We need to talk,” Nestor said.
“I have other customers.” Two men were sitting down at a table on the other side of the terrace. “What would you like to order?”
“The steak hachée, and the pommes frites, and a frappe chocolat.”
“Mon Dieu! There’s a McDonald’s just down the street.”
“The décor here is so much more interesting.” Nestor gave Rachel a little pat on her bare butt, which which provoked a slap on his wrist from Anna. From Anna, and a little smile back from Nestor. Really. The two of them were a number now?
“And for you, Madame?” Rachel grinned a bit at the wince that Madame provoked, followed by a little smile of acknowledgment.
“I’ll have the moules frites façon grandmère and a glass of Loire Muscadet.”
“Excellent choice. I was helping to prepare those myself. I can assure you the mussels came out of the sea this very morning.”
She knelt down to retrieve one of the napkins she had been kneeling on, trying desperately to keep her legs together and her butt towards the floor. Once she had retrieved it, she used it to wipe herself off, as discretely as possible, under the table, and stuffed the dirty napkin into one of her apron pockets. Then she went off to the other table to take orders.
“I’m sorry, it’s going to be a few minutes to cook.” Her voice was loud enough to carry over from the other side of the terrace. “Perhaps you would care for something else on the menu? From the bottom of the menu? While you are waiting?”
With that, she went off into the kitchen to place the orders.
“The little tart,” Anna said.
“She’s doing it to annoy us,” Rocco said. “She’s pissed at all of us, at least the guys.”
“Such a beauty. Is she as y as she looks?”
All three of the men nodded.
Rachel came back out of the kitchen with the lunch orders. She set them out politely enough, but then she went over to the other table.
“Looks like they ordered the spitroast,” Anna said. The men had pulled out one of the chairs and Rachel was kneeling sideways on it, knees and wrists touching, with one of them at either end of her. Both of them had pressed in completely, their bellies against her lips and butt, but she was rocking back and forth, wiggling her hips and her head.
“So the sheikh is no longer a danger to you?” Javert asked. “Since you two are showing yourselves in public?”
“Not at the moment. The diversion with the Luxor gave us time to regain control. Somewhat.” Anna was sipping her wine, her gaze over on the other side of the room. Rachel was managing to moan in pleasure somehow, even though her mouth and throat were full. She was putting on quite a show.
“At the cost of many lives, so it would seem. From what Rachel confided, at least three, perhaps the entire ship.”
“That was not our intention.” Anna gave a little sigh. “Not our intention at all. The sheikh was bluffing. We were bluffing. Neither of us was going to harm the girls.”
“The girls didn’t know that.”
“No. We had no idea they were capable of such violence.”
“You didn’t know? What about the AI thing you work for?”
“Used to work for.” Nestor said. “You think it was playing us all for fools? For some reason it may never reveal?”
“The thought has crossed my mind,” Anna said. “Nestor thinks it would be safer for me, for us, to go to the United States.”
“How? You are a citizen of what, Ukraine?”
“Russia, actually.”
“So how are you going to be allowed to reside in the United States?”
“Nestor, is, of course, a citizen. I am going to go there as his wife.”
“We got married this morning, that’s why I’m wearing the suit.”
“Married? A marriage of convenience? Won’t that interfere with your activities as an investigator?”
“I’m stopping doing that. And no, it’s going to be a real marriage. Hopefully.”
“He’s going to give me a new foot, as a wedding gift.”
“It may take a couple of years. That’s what I’m going to concentrate on now. Using AI to advance stem cell technology.”
“Won’t that violate your parole?” That from Rachel, who had come over to clear away dirty dishes. Apparently she had been eavesdropping, even during the spitroast. “To go to the United States?”
“What, you think they’re going to extradite me back to Russia? Not likely. And besides…”
“Blowing up nuclear power plants? Dams? Airplanes? You can really do that?”
“It’s not one of those things you actually test. But yes, most likely. Another glass of wine?”
But instead, Rachel sat down with them. “There’s one thing I want to know. You’re blaming me for all the killing, and I’m really upset about it, if that makes any difference. But what about the three men you killed on the beach?”
“What makes you think I killed them?”
“I saw you kill them. Unless it was a hallucination or something.”
“It wasn’t.”
“Okay.” She thought back to what had happened. “Maybe the ones you hit with the log you just knocked out. But what about the shish kabob stick?”
“Not fatal if you pull it back out in time. The guy may not have been saying much for a few days.”
“Oh, there’s another thing. How is Andre doing?”
“Poor Andre is dead again. Cremated. His ashes are on a boat back to Africa.”
Rachel was about to burst into tears when she saw that Javert had his fingers crossed, Anna had a little grin on her face. Oh. Well who knew why those two men had conveniently shown up. If she could eavesdrop from their table, so could they.
“He was a mercenary there?”
A little nod.
“We need to go.” Anna had finished her glass of wine. “Our flight leaves in an hour.”
“Here.” Nestor pulled some bills out of his wallet. “This should cover lunch.”
And they left.
“Mon Dieu.” Each of the bills was 500 euros. “It’s almost enough to get through the winter.”
“You have money coming from the cam show,” Rocco added. “We appealed and got our tip money back.”
“Oh.”
“Maybe you could do more cam shows? You and the other girls? Even if you’re living at the resort, you could come over and do a cam show? And feed the cats?”
“Maybe. Did you give Risa and Bea their phones?”
“Before I came over here.”
Rachel pulled out her phone. Her thumbs were a blur. “Okay, Bea says she definitely wants to see the cats. They need the money from the shows. Oh. Yes, definitely. I’ll let him know.”
“What?”
“They’re okay to try a show on one condition. After that they’ll see how it goes.”
“What’s the condition?”
“We all get to peg you.”
ero
