Chapter Eleven
It took us an hour and a half of calling around hotels in Nice to find the one where Merrick was staying.
“Merci, merci beaucoup,” I said into my phone, giving Ellis a thumbs-up. We were almost to Nice, and I made a note on a scrap of paper. “And you have a room I could book? Excellent. The name is Ellis Dawson. We’ll be there in about half an hour. Merci! Au revoir.” I hung up and looked at Ellis. “You speak French. What does devenir chèvre mean?”
Ellis shot me a startled look. “Where did you hear that?”
“It’s the name of the hotel.” I glanced down at the note. “Hôtel Devenir Chèvre. That doesn’t mean something rude, does it? Like Hotel Lady of the Evening? Hotel Scatological Content? Hotel Nose Pickings?”
“How your mind works!” Ellis said, laughing. “No, it literally
