13“I’m not happy about this, Madeleine. Not at all happy.” Graysie punched her fist into her hand in futile protest. “I’m not allowing you to give yourself up to that man.” She turned to Roscoe, eyes wide with appeal. “Tell her, Sheriff. There must be another way. Isn’t that what you’re here for?”
Roscoe leaned back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head. Only the nervous flicking of his index fingers betrayed his inner tension. “I agree, Mrs. Russell. The ideal outcome is for us to free Minette without having to surrender Mademoiselle Laurent.” He rocked forward and put both elbows on his desk, the clasped fingers still twitching. “It’s a matter of working out how to achieve that happy outcome.”
The 5.15 message had been delivered by a young woman who looked vaguely familiar to Mad
