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Miranda kept deflectingonce ere in Avignon, but with each deflection I found ier Now that— and I hated being kept in the dark “It’s not a good idea to talk in the car,” Stefan finally interjected when I launched another inquiry “We s”

“He ed,” Miranda explained

“I knehat he meant,” I snapped

“Ouch,” she said

“Sorry,” I grumbled “I’m tired from the trip — I can never sleep on planes And somebody tried to barbecue me yesterday So I’m kinda cranky at the moment”

“Barbecue you?” She sounded slightly concerned but mostly amused

“Barbecue,” I repeated “What’s the French word? Fla forward, putting my scorched head between the front seats

Miranda rubbed the stubble “Wow, that’s crispy I’d say you just used up another one of your nine lives”

Stefan took a glance, then looked in the rearview mirror “Is there any possibility that the barbecue chef — the guy as shooting at you — followed you to France?”

The thought had not occurred tous?” I turned and looked out the rearand saw half a dozen cars behind us on the busy highway Hoould we know if one of the at me had any idea who I was And he certainly wouldn’t have any way of connecting non” But despite my confident words, Stefan’s question had planted a seed of doubt ininto anxiety

“I’ht,” Miranda said “And I know you’re exhausted And of course you have a right to knohat’s going on here Please trust us and be patient a little longer Relax and enjoy the countryside”

I tried But with Stefan’s eyes darting to the led nerves refused to settle “You still see followed,” I finally said “Do you think so you?”

“Non,” Stefan said curtly

“There ,” Miranda added “But Stefan ot out of the city”

Stefan held up a hand for silence The farther we drove, the louder the silence became

An hour after leaving Marseilles, we crossed the Rhône — a beautiful river, almost as lovely as the Tennessee — and then Stefan abruptly whipped off the highway and onto a two-lane road As soon as he’d ain, then shared a look of relief at the ees and past farmhouses and barns, the road followed the river upstreahway that took us eastward, to another bridge spanning the river On the far bank stood a low hill ringed by an ancient wall and crowned by tiled rooftops and ht of Provence

“Beautiful,” I said

“Avignon,” Stefan announced “City of the popes Once the richest and most powerful city in Europe”

CHAPTER 3

Avignon

The Present

Stefan threaded the fiat through a portal in the ancient wall and into the old part of the city, navigating between stone buildings that were already old by the ti to the left, the street burrowed into an underground parking garage carved deep beneath the hill Stefan spiraled up several ra pedestrian tunnel E at the end of the tunnel, we blinked and squinted our way into dazzling daylight

We had surfaced on a large plaza, a couple of hundred feet wide but several ti above it, was an iher towers “Le Palais des Papes,” Stefan said “The Palace of the Popes”