Mary sagged against the wall with relief. She had not realized how much tension she had been under. It’s easy to understand, she thought, why foreigners living here finally turn to drugs or drink…or love affairs.
Mary stayed with the children that evening. She wanted to be as close to them as possible. Looking at them, she wondered: Are they in danger? Are we all in danger? Who would want to harm us? She had no answer.
Three nights later Mary had dinner again with Dr. Louis Desforges. He seemed more relaxed with her this time, and although the core of sadness she sensed within him was still there, he took pains to be attentive and amusing. Mary wondered if he felt the same attraction toward her that she felt toward him. It wasn’t just a silver bowl I sent him, she admitted to herself, it was an invitation.
Madam Ambassador is so formal. Call me Mary. My God, was she actually pursuing him? And yet: I owe him a lot—possibly my life. I’m rationalizing, Mary thought. That has nothing to do with why I wanted to see him again.
They had an early dinner in the dining room on the roof of the Intercontinental Hotel, and when Louis took Mary back to the residence, she asked, “Would you like to come in?”
“Thank you,” he said. “I would.”
The children were downstairs doing their homework. Mary introduced them to Louis.
He bent down before Beth and said, “May I?” And he put his arms around her and hugged her. He straightened up. “One of my little girls was three years younger than you. The other one was about your age. I’d like to think they would have grown up to be as pretty as you are, Beth.”
Beth smiled. “Thank you. Where are—?”
Mary asked hastily, “Would you all like some hot chocolate?”
They sat in the huge kitchen drinking the hot chocolate and talking.
The children were enchanted with Louis, and Mary thought she had never seen a man with so much hunger in his eyes. He had forgotten about her. He was focused entirely on the children, telling them stories about his daughters and anecdotes and jokes until he had them roaring with laughter.
It was almost midnight when Mary looked at her watch. “Oh, no! You children should have been in bed hours ago. Scoot.”
Tim went over to Louis. “Will you come see us again?”
“I hope so, Tim. It’s up to your mother.”
Tim turned to Mary. “Well, Mom?”
She looked at Louis and said, “Yes.”
Mary saw Louis to the door. He took her hand in his. “I won’t try to tell you what this evening has meant to me, Mary. There are no words.”
“I’m glad.” She was looking into his eyes, and she felt him moving toward her. She raised her lips.
“Good night, Mary.”
And he was gone.
The following morning when Mary walked into her office, she noticed that another side of the wall had been freshly painted. Mike Slade walked in with two cups of coffee.
“Morning.” He set a cup on her desk.
“Someone wrote on the wall again?”
“Yes,”
“What did it say this time?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t matter!” she said furiously. “It matters to me. What kind of security does this embassy have? I won’t have people sneaking into my office and making threats against my life. What did it say?”
“You want it verbatim?”
“Yes.”
“It said, ‘Leave now or die.’ ”
Mary sank back into her chair, enraged. “Will you explain to me how someone is able to walk into this embassy, unseen, and write messages on my wall?”
“I wish I could,” Mike said. “We’re doing everything we can to track it down.”
“Well, ‘everything you can’ is obviously not enough,” she retorted. “I want a marine guard posted outside my door at night. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Madam Ambassador. I’ll pass the word to Colonel McKinney.”
“Never mind. I’ll talk to him myself.”
Mary watched as Mike Slade left her office, and she suddenly wondered if he knew who was behind it.
And she wondered if it could be Mike Slade.