Honey and Leonard (13 page)

Lindvall couldn't help but be amused by that comment. "Be that as it may," she said, "we'll have plenty of time to test Mr. Atkins for competency."

"You can test him all you want," Gretchen said. "He can fool you for a while. I'm here to tell you, I know him better than anyone and the man is no longer in control of his own mind. And I'll go you one further. He knows it. Why do you think he signed the Power of Attorney over to me in the first place?"

"You mean this Power of Attorney?" Lindvall waved her copy at Gretchen. "This was signed nearly two years ago, shortly after his wife's death. You know these things can be revoked at any time?"

"Only by someone who's mentally competent."

Gretchen could see the prosecutor was more than suspicious of how she was handling her uncle's money. She decided to say nothing more. "I'll be leaving now. If you have further questions, you can take them up with my attorney."

"Rest assured, I will have more questions," Lindvall said. "But, before you go, be advised there are laws that will hold you accountable for every cent of your uncle's money."

Gretchen couldn't help but respond, "I know you're trying to protect your friend, Honey Waldrop. May I remind you there is still a case against her for attempting to poison my uncle."

Lindvall attempted to conceal her anger at being accused of impropriety. "We both know why arsenic was found in Leonard's blood."

Hearing the prosecutor say she would be held accountable for spending her uncle's money, made her realize how criminal her conduct had become.

How could I have known what a comeback he would make once Honey entered the picture? I thought he was on the way out. Now, what am I going to do?

Gretchen realized she was at a crossroads. She could find her uncle and beg his forgiveness. She knew he would forgive everything except selling the farm. She could undo that somehow. But Honey would certainly get in the way. And the law might not be so quick to forgive once an audit revealed how much money she had spent on herself without her uncle's knowledge or permission.

Her second option was to find Uncle Leonard and have Honey prosecuted. She knew the attempted murder charge would probably not stick. Honey would never try to hurt Leonard. But Honey was clearly guilty of violating the no-contact order.

Gretchen knew her uncle really was having memory problems that could only get worse. Time was on her side.

She returned home to discuss the matter at length with her new best friend of late, a bottle of Jack Daniel's whiskey. "Jack Black" had been her father's constant companion in his last years.

By 6 p.m., Indiana time, Gretchen was more than half drunk when she got the call from her investigator, Adam Wolfe.

"We're on the scene in Cassis," Wolfe said.

"Who's 'we' and what 'scene' are you talking about?"

"By 'we' I mean me." Wolfe lied, realizing he hadn't told Gretchen about his interpreter and new girlfriend, Simone. "And by the scene, I mean French police are about to arrest Honey and Leonard in Cassis. They're such celebrities in France that people are able to recognize them and report them to the police."

"Why are they celebrities?"

"The French people love them. At least that's what all the papers and television reporters say. They're calling Honey and Leonard the Bonnie and Clyde of love."

"Oh, my God," Gretchen groaned.

"I'm tuned into the police radio. I was in Marseilles when I heard they were spotted in Cassis. I'm already here. And, by the way, I'm running out of money. Can you send me another $5,000?"

"I'll do you one better than that," Gretchen slurred her speech enough to let Wolfe know she had been drinking. "I'll do you one better," Gretchen repeated. "I'll bring you the money. I'm coming to Cassis. It's time we put a stop to this nonsense."

"I'm not going that fast, pumpkin," Leonard said. "These turns are just too tight."

"You are going too fast. If the tires are making screeching noises, you're going too fast."

"I am not going too fast," Leonard said as the car hit a dangerous curve and skidded into the oncoming lane like it was headed over the edge of the mountain.

"Stop the car this instant," Honey yelled. "I am getting out before you kill us both."

Leonard regained control of the vehicle in plenty of time to avoid oncoming traffic.

"Stop the car now, Leonard Atkins. I mean it. I am getting out. I'll walk the rest of the way if I have to. My heart can't take this wild driving."

Leonard pulled off the road and got out of the car. He was still wearing the priest cassock. Honey got out of her door and stomped around the car to confront Leonard. She was wearing the nun's habit. To passing motorists, it looked like the Catholic church was coming apart at the seams. Honey was poking her finger in Leonard's chest and he was doing his best to stay out of harm's way.

Honey and Leonard were having the first major fight of their relationship. 
She pushed him with both hands in his chest so hard he actually had to take a step backwards to keep from falling over. As she came at him again, he sidestepped her with some nimble footwork. This only made her angrier. She came at him once more. This time he let her push him, but he braced himself and held his ground. He couldn't help but see the humor in this little nun trying to push him around with no success. He laughed out loud, and even Honey began to see how foolish she must have looked.

A mother with two children in her car was so unnerved by the sight of the nun attacking the priest that she pulled over and asked if anyone needed help. She spoke first in French but quickly changed to English when Leonard said, "No
Francois
."

"Is everything good?" the mother asked.

"
Oui
," Leonard replied with one of the few French words he knew and then switched back to English. "The sister is just confessing her need for God's help," Leonard said as Honey waved to the mother that everything was fine.

"You're the one who's going to need God's help," Honey said as the mother drove away.

"Settle down, Honey," Leonard said. "You're making the whole church look bad."

Honey put her hands on her hips and stared at him with a look that said, "Pay attention."

"Hold it, hold it," Leonard said. "Okay, I'll admit it. I was going too fast. Here, why don't you drive for a while? We're almost there. You can drive us into St. Tropez."

"I'm not going to drive down this sidewinding road for you or any man," Honey said. "We're going to stay right here until you agree to get in that car and drive us slowly and safely into town. I am much too tired to watch you play race-car games behind the wheel."

Leonard turned and looked down on the town in the distance. All he could see was the golden dome of a church. He hated to admit it, but he knew she was right. He had been having a bit of fun at her expense. He hadn't driven fast down a mountain road in some time.

He turned around, took a deep breath and said, "All right. I'll say it again. I was going too fast. I'm sorry, but it was fun. So, I'll say it. You are right and I was wrong."

"You don't mean that," Honey scolded.

Leonard wiped the smirk off his face. "Actually, I do mean it. I did not mean to frighten you and I'm sorry I did. I keep forgetting what happened on the roof with your heart." He took another deep breath and said, "Come on, get in the car. I'll drive like a little old lady."

Honey did not appreciate his sarcasm but she got in the car anyway. Leonard kept his word by driving cautiously into St. Tropez. They rode in strained silence most of the way, but as they came into the seaside resort town, Honey said, "Let's get a room and book it for a week. I need to stop moving for now. I need to rest."

The tension in the car began to ease up as the glory of St. Tropez enveloped them. Soon they were in the center of the ancient port on a seaside road with a wall of four-story buildings on one side and massive yachts docked in the water on the other side. Leonard drove slowly out of the central chaos until he found an inviting hotel at the base of what looked like the largest hill in town.

"We must be near the old fort," he said. "I think I see cannons up there on the hill."

In the hotel parking lot, Honey changed out of her nun's habit and said to Leonard, "You wait here, and I'll see if we can get a room. This does look like a nice place. And by the way, I am sorry I got so mad up there. But you scared me. I guess I'm a little tired and cranky."

"No need to be sorry," Leonard said. "We're both tired. We need a break from the road."

Honey disappeared into the hotel. They had a much better chance of not being recognized if they were not seen as a couple. She was gone for more than fifteen minutes.

Leonard had changed clothes and was basking in the early evening sun when Honey returned and said with renewed cheer, "I booked us for three nights. We got the last room they have. It was expensive but it's got its own little porch and a view of the water."

"Come here, pumpkin, and give your sweetie a big hug."

Honey threw her arms around him and said, "You big lug. You know I can't stay mad at you for long."

"I don't want you mad at me even for one second."

The sun was just setting behind the far side of the harbor when they reached the top of the hill for the breathtaking view. Fishing boats and massive yachts seemed to be having a party on the shoreline docks. The town and its famous beaches stretched out for sandy miles. The entire landscape seemed overgrown with trees, still glowing green in the crepusculan light. The golden dome on the church below was beginning to lose its shine.

"Here we are at the Citadel," Leonard said as they took a rest on the large stone remains of the ancient battlements. "You can see why they put the cannons up here. They could control the entire harbor. I read a pamphlet on it in the room. This fort was built a long time ago. I forget the date, but it's hundreds of years old."

A huge destroyer anchored in the middle of the bay looked completely out of place in the idyllic scene. It was ominous and menacing. It had massive gun turrets all over it with long cannon barrels that looked like they could open fire at any moment. Honey and Leonard stared at it for a long time, neither one of them commenting on the obvious anomaly. They were tired. Tired from walking uphill. Tired of traveling, tired of being chased and tired of being famous, or notorious.

"Doesn't that just say it all?" Leonard finally said.

Honey couldn't help but laugh. She knew what Leonard was thinking. She was thinking the same thing. She grabbed Leonard's arm and said, "You don't have to say it. I'll say it for you. There's a gunboat in the middle of our sea of love."

Leonard laughed with her, and their fatigue began to wash away. Honey saw the twinkle return to his eyes. Knowing what another person is thinking is the romantic payoff for sharing the rigors of the road.

They held hands and watched the lights of the town and on the destroyer gradually begin to turn on and shine in the growing darkness. A peacock wandered into their view, not twenty yards away and slightly down the hill. With a mighty squawk that startled them both, he spread feathers and erected his train to form a shimmering fan of what appeared to be a bright blue arch in the twilight.

"That's the male," Leonard said once he recovered from the surprise. "He looks like NBC. There must be a female nearby. He's putting on his show for someone special."

"Look," Honey said. "There she is. See her? She's behind that large pine tree down there."

As Honey spoke, the female peafowl took flight and landed on a branch halfway up the tree.

"Whoa," Leonard said. "I didn't know they could fly. I've never seen one fly."

"The male must have excited her or maybe he scared her. Look at her. She's looking right at me, like she's trying to tell me something."

"I don't think she's looking at anything except all those male feathers. Look at that boy. Each feather looks like it's got an eye that can see. He's pulling out all the stops for that girl."

"No, she's looking at me and she's saying, 'Look at the boys with all their feathers and battleships trying to impress the world.'"

Leonard hung his head and chuckled in amazement.

"What?" Honey asked.

"Only you could connect peacocks and battleships."

He took Honey in his arms and gave her a grateful kiss and a long embrace. When they uncoupled, the peacock and his potential mate were gone. The battleship was looking more and more sinister as darkness began to fall. Honey and Leonard decided to walk back down while they could still see the pathway.

Leonard tried to hold Honey's hand as they walked down from the hotel to savor the sights and delights of the small city by the sea. Honey withdrew her hand and said, "Priests and nuns do not hold hands."

"What if they're Episco
pals
?" Leonard asked, emphasizing the "pals."

"Nobody knows Episcopal in France," Honey laughed.

"I think they've got Episcopals in France."

"It's Episcopalians, not Episcopals. And, yes, they are all over the world. But we are Catholic, not Episcopal. Besides, I don't think any kind of nuns hold hands with their priests."

"That's why I hate these costumes," Leonard grumbled.

"Come on, Father, don't be a grump. Let's go see St. Tropez," Honey said. "Here, let me straighten your hat. There, you look positively priestly."

Leonard played along as they continued walking, but he couldn't resist giving Honey a playful spank on the fanny every now and then.

Even in the dark, St. Tropez was colorful. Most of the streets were less than twenty feet wide. Five-story, stone buildings rising on either side of the street made Honey and Leonard feel like they were walking down canyons of culture. Ornamental streetlights hung off curled-iron hangers from the second story level. Bright, colored lights identified shops of all kinds at street level. Narrow sidewalks along the cobblestone streets were protected by rows of black, metal bumpers that looked like chess pawns on parade. On many stretches, however, the sidewalks were unprotected from the maniac drivers in their little compact cars.

The worst drivers were on the scooters, passing cars through the most narrow of spaces and brushing pedestrians back against the walls of connected buildings. One particularly reckless Vespa driver nearly knocked Leonard to the ground with the tip of his handlebar.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing," Leonard boomed. "You just about broke my goddamned arm."

People nearby stopped dead in their tracks when they heard the priest cursing so loudly. They couldn't understand what the priest was saying but they knew he was saying it with too much venom to be a man of the cloth. Honey hustled him into a high-priced gift shop to avoid further scrutiny.

"What do you think you're doing?" she scolded. "Did he really hurt your arm?"

"Yes, he banged me good. I'll be fine. He just scared me. I know priests don't curse. But guess what? I'm no priest. Besides, nobody around here speaks English."

"They don't have to speak English to know you don't sound like a priest when you lose your temper in the middle of the street."

"The next guy who brushes me back with his scooter is going to lose his head."

"Now, sweetie, let's not have you losing
your
head."

They left the shop before the over-dressed employee could try to sell them anything and went off in search of something to eat.

"I am hungry," Leonard said as the narrow street emptied out into a broad walkway by the bay. It was jammed with pedestrians. On the left, cafés had outdoor seating lined up like expensive box seats at a sports arena. Red and green and blue awnings proclaimed the names of the establishments and the types of food they served. On the right of the promenade was a formidable row of giant yachts, docked side by side, with light-metal gangplanks jutting out the back of the boats and reaching down to the wooden boardwalk.

"Looks like we'll be dining with the rich and famous," Leonard said. "Hard to believe this was a sleepy little fishing village until Brigitte Bardot started getting her picture taken here in the fifties and sixties."

"How do you know that?" Honey asked.

"Oh, I followed Miss Bardot closely in the old days."

"Who do you follow now?"

Leonard smiled and made her wait for what he knew she needed to hear. "I follow the most wonderful and beautiful woman in the world."

"And who is that?"

"It is you," Leonard nearly shouted as he took Honey in his arms and swung her off her feet."

Honey forgot herself for a moment. By the time she could get Leonard to stop dancing with her, a circle of impressed onlookers had formed around them. Leonard realized he had blown his cover, once again, and walked Honey through a gap in the circle of people to continue along the boardwalk. They didn't realize it, but a crowd was starting to follow them. Word began to spread that Honey and Leonard were on the boardwalk, disguised as a priest and a nun. Honey could feel the world beginning to collapse in on them.