“We were good friends in Paris, weren’t we? You made me all sorts of promises, we planned no end of nice things, and then—without a word to any one you disappeared. There were shadows under his eyes. Nervously he pulled alongside the dilapidated oncewhite farmhouse. ’” “Is ‘Alcide’ still in Paris?” Ennison asked. His reputation was slightly tainted by his marriage to her mother, an exotic blue-eyed raven-haired beauty, a Gypsy doll with a clandestine heritage. “But if you knew anything of that—” “I did.
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