One

"Vincent? Are you there? If you're there, pick up the phone."

Vincent Argeneau forced one eyelid upward and peered around the dark room. His home office, he saw, managing to make out the shape of his desk by the sliver of light coming through the door cracked open to the hallway. He'd fallen asleep on the couch in his office.

"Vincent?"

"Yeah?" He sat up and glanced around for the owner of that voice, then realized it was coming through his answering machine on the desk. Giving his head a shake, Vincent got to his feet and stumbled across the room. He snatched up the cordless phone, dropped into his desk chair, and growled, "Bastien?"

"Vincent? Sorry to wake you, cousin. I waited as late as I could before calling."

Vincent grunted and leaned back in the chair, running his free hand over his face. "What time is it?"

"Five P.M. here in New York. I guess that makes it about two there in L.A.," Bastien said apologetically.

"Two," Vincent muttered. No wonder he was exhausted. He'd been up until 9 A.M. dealing with phone calls, then had drawn the blackout curtains in the room and lain down on the couch here rather than go to his bed. He hadn't wanted to miss Bastien's call.

"Are you awake?"

"Yeah." Vincent scrubbed his hand over his face again, then reached out to turn on his desk lamp. Blinking in the increased light, he said, "I'm up. Were you able to get a hold of that private detective company you said was so good?"

"That's why I couldn't call any later than this. They're on their way. In fact, their plane was scheduled to land at LAX fifteen minutes ago."

"Jesus!" Vincent sat up abruptly in his seat. "That was fast."

"Jackie doesn't waste time. I explained the situation to her and she booked a flight right away. Fortunately for you, she'd just finished a big job for me and was able to put off and delegate whatever else she had on the roster."

"Wow," Vincent murmured, then frowned as he realized what Bastien had said. "She? The detective's a woman?"

"Yes, and she's good. Really good. She'll track down your saboteur and have this whole thing cleaned up in no time."

"If you say so," Vincent said quietly. "Thanks, Bastien. I appreciate it."

"Not a problem. Happy to help."

Vincent opened his mouth to speak, then paused as he heard a woman's muffled voice in the background. He began to grin. "Is that Terri?"

"Yes. She says hello, and says to warn you—" He paused to clear his throat. "Er…Vincent, mother is on her way out there too."

"What?" Vincent stood abruptly. The news was rather shocking. Aunt Marguerite hadn't visited his home in decades. Usually, he visited her in Canada. She'd chosen the worst possible time to decide to visit sunny California. "Why?"

"Er…well, that's a funny thing really." Bastien gave a nervous laugh. "It seems she's come to the conclusion that you may be lonely and depressed."

Copyright © 2006 by Lynsay Sands.