Grant paid his bill and left the highway rest stop, both stomach and gas tank filled. He checked his navigator and read the calculated time to Port-Saint-Père. Two hours and fifty-two minutes. He pulled into traffic and settled back, figuring he could shave some off of that time.

The countryside flashed past largely unnoticed while Grant let the music from the radio help modify his thinking. He hummed along, considering options he might take. Whatever he did, the damning fact that he was the father of Ava's daughter had to be buried, preferably along with both mother - and child, except he could never find the child.

West was supposed to have been his route to that information; instead, she was now the same threat as Ava. He banged a hand on the steering wheel. "Damn!" It occurred to him suddenly that she was a bigger threat. "Double damn! She knew about the child and what he had done to cover it all up. He had been so quick to focus on Ava . . .

He pulled into the next rest stop and sat thinking a moment before opening his phone. A few routine sounding calls later, Grant slammed his phone down and cursed. She was here! Either ahead or not far behind. A new thought formed, and he allowed himself to calm down and concentrate on a plan forward.

♟♟♟♟♟

Mallory slowed entering the town proper, doing several circuits through a series of streets before finding a quiet spot to park.

"Was that my Michelin tour?" Morrisey asked.

"We didn't come to sight-see. I was checking for his rental. They told me he has a white Mercedes C-Class. Grant may have arrived ahead of us."

"Christ, old habits. That's what he has at home. You think he's just sitting somewhere like a stakeout?"

"I don't know what he'd do. He's your boss, what do you think?"

"That I'm a bit stiff in this car, and a little hungry."

"Again? My God, Morrisey. If you want I can drop you at Planete Sauvage, and you can eat with the animals."

"I'm already on a savage planet - and with animals."

"The cheery Canadian again?"

"Moving on," he said with disgust, "what's your plan?"

Mallory tapped the wheel, pushing a pink tongue against her upper lip. "I made the call to the school. I have to believe Ava will contact me. Until then, the plan is to keep alert for Grant."

"Well I have to stretch. This box is not on my must-have one day list."

"Don't go far, and do not be obvious, Morrisey. He might be here already, or even just arriving. We cannot be seen."

"Gee, when I grow up I want to be a spy, you are all so smart." He ambled away down the lane they had used to park.

She watched him go, her cheeks hot from his parting shot. Her attitude had changed the closer they got here, and she knew it was less than pleasant. She saw him stop and do a slow turn, one hand pushing at the bottom of his back. A grim smile shaped her lips; he was right, the car was not a long trip choice.

The sudden buzz on her phone made her start, and she fumbled in her bag for the phone.

"Mrs. Carter?"

"Yes, you left a message to call."

"We need to meet. The O Deck, as before?"

"I can make it this afternoon - four."

"I am with a trusted colleague. I promise it is safe at my end."

"Four."

The call ended, and Mallory released a long breath then tapped the horn.

Morrisey turned around and headed straight back to the car. He climbed back in, grunting from the ache in his back.

"What's up?"

"Ava made contact. We're meeting her at four, at the O Deck restaurant. It's where I first contacted her."

"Four - but we're gonna eat before that?"

"Blimey, Morrisey. You're a bottomless pit. We're going to find a place to stay first - preferably an out of the way B&B."

"Fine, the second B sounds promising anyway."

She barked a short laugh and made a U-turn on the side street. "I sussed out a couple of places that might do. We'll drive around and have a look."

♟♟♟♟♟

Grant stopped at a lay by just outside Port-Saint-Père, and stepped out of the car, arching his back and rolling his shoulders. The people at Mercedes wouldn't be pleased with the ritual, but it wasn't the car, he chuckled ruefully. He was tense from thinking and worrying for such a long stretch. Now he needed to assess the best use of that thinking, on how to deal with Ava.

The most efficient way, to accomplish a complete solution to the entire mess, was to find West. He knew she would contact Ava, and if he could find her, he'd have them both. He checked his watch, and got back in the car. A casual tour of the town might be a good start. The Vauxhall, he'd learned that she was driving, shouldn't be hard to spot out of all the Renaults and Peugots.

♟♟♟♟♟

The second place they checked out was agreed upon immediately. Only four kilometres outside of town, it was a comfortable studio with a double bed, a sofa bed, and a private bath and kitchen. It had a private entrance and a small balcony with a view of the street.

"I thought the meal was included," Morrisey griped, tossing his bag onto the sofa and testing the bed.

"There's a small shopping centre a few blocks from here. We can get what we want there."

"I need a shower and a change of clothes. My back is really sore."

Mallory smiled and shook her head. "I'll go. Any preferences?"

"Ready to eat. I don't cook; I'm a microwave kinda guy." He saw the grimace, and waved her out with a cheery goodbye.

Some fresh fruit, and a few raw vegetables she could eat, went into her basket, along with some cold cuts and bread for Morrisey. A few condiments, coffee and milk - and a spontaneous purchase of a bag of sweets - and she went through the small check-out. The sun was warm but there was a pleasant breeze, and she sighed, relaxing slightly on her walk back to their room.

The sight of the white Mercedes turning the corner gave her a jolt, and she paused behind a large yellow post office letterbox, as it passed. She watched carefully as it continued up the road. No give away flicker of brake lights, no change in speed, and she felt confident she hadn't been seen . . . but she had seen him.

Grant was here - looking for them.