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see that you're taken care of. You'll come to live with Uncle Gaston, eh? One big happy family ..."
He'd wink then and the blood would chill in her veins.
Madeleine remained in her and Antoine's apartment until the end. On that last rainy morning when the
judge passed sentence, she thought she would lose her mind. She had screamed out in the courtroom,
then fainted. Later, in an adjoining chamber, she had awakened with only Uncle Gaston beside her. He
sat on the edge of the leather chesterfield where she lay, and she could hardly believe it when she felt his
hot hand caressing her thigh beneath her mini-dress, his wet, rubbery mouth stretched in a warm, if,
lecherous smile.
"There, there, my pet," he cooed down at her. "Everything's going to be fine. You'll come home with me
and I'll take care of you ... just you and me now, eh? We'll have some wonderful times together. We'll
travel ... see the world ... whatever your little heart desires, ma chere ..."
She stared up at him, her eyes widening in horrified disbelief, the meaning of his words registering fully in
her sickened, heart-broken brain.
"First, we'll get the kid for you, eh? How's that?" he said, grinning, convinced that this of all things would
influence her.
"Oh ... Oh God ...! Y-You filthy ... filthy, vile beast!" Madeleine hissed at him, shoving his hand from
beneath her dress with such force that he nearly fell off the edge of the couch. Suddenly, she swung
bodily around, pivoting on her buttocks, and was on her feet before the squat Larreau could regain his
balance. "Damn you!" she half screamed at him. "You're the cause of Antoine's going to prison! You
used him ... and he's going there in your place ... just as you probably had Ginny Novak murdered! All
so that you could have me ... is that it? Y-You despicable pig! Filthy swine!" She backed toward the
door, her beautiful face drawn in vicious hatred. "Well ... you'll never have me again, damn you! Never,
you hear? Never!"
Abruptly, Larreau's expression changed, the blood draining from his round face, the scar on his right
cheek suddenly becoming a livid purple in his mounting rage. He moved toward her then, but she was
not there by the time he'd crossed the room; she had jerked open the door and was running down the
corridor, her sobs and the pounding of her heels echoing back to him as he called after her.
Goddamn her! She was getting away from him after all!
* * *
Madeleine had no idea of how long she ran the wet streets of Montreal. She only knew that the rain
dampening her face was all that was keeping her from fainting again, and when the pain in her aching
chest became so severe from running, she stumbled into an unfamiliar little bar and found herself a
secluded, darkened corner to collapse in. Fortunately, at this time of morning, the place was deserted
except for the young bartender and a male patron at the far end of the bar.
Slowly, Madeleine composed herself as the young man approached and she ordered a vermouth.
He smiled down at her; he was clean-cut and had a pleasant smile. He said: "Are you looking for
someone, Ma'm'selle?"
"N-No. Why do you ask?"
The young man shrugged. He wiped at the table in front of her with a dry little towel he carried. "Most of
the girls who come here this time of day are looking for ... shall we say ... a companion?"
Madeleine could barely see his face in the shadows, but the gleam of his white teeth was very distinct.
She understood then. "I-I'm not one of those girls, M'sieu'," she replied sharply, the ache in her chest
gradually leaving her. "Do you have coffee?"
"No."
"Just the vermouth then, thank you."
He nodded, smiled, and went away. She watched him and saw that the patron at the bar was trying to
study her. She couldn't see his face, but he seemed tall, well dressed, and perhaps middle aged. The
young bartender exchanged a few words with him and the older one continued to watch her.
Abruptly, her situation came back to her like an overwhelming shroud, and momentarily she felt
nauseous. Dear God, what was she going to do? Her Antoine was lost to her; she had failed him
miserably as a wife, and now there would be no chance to make it up to him. He was gone ... out of
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