Read Online Lost December by Richard Paul Evans - Free Book Online

down to the street.”
    “Why don’t you just have the car waiting out front?”
    “We can’t do that.”
    “What’s going on, man?”
    “Nothing,” he said. “We’ve just got to go. Where’s Candace?”
    “She’s in the room.”
    “Tell her we have twenty minutes. Remember, don’t go out through the lobby. Go out the back door and take the walk to the next street, near the bakery we stopped at yesterday.”
    “I need to check out.”
    “No!” he blurted out. He must have realized how anxious he sounded because his voice calmed. “You can do it online from Cannes.
Don’t
go down to the lobby.”
    “It will take us a few minutes,” I said. “We’re not packed.”
    “Just hurry,” he said. “Please.” He looked around, then walked on past me.
    More surprising than the conversation, was that he had actually said
please
.
    I signed our beachside bar tab, gathered up my things, then went up to our room. Candace was in the bathroom putting on makeup. “Hi, honey,” she said. “I got us courtyard reservations at Auberge des Maures. The concierge says we have to try the lamb.”
    “We’ll have to try it later,” I said. “Apparently we’re leaving town. Sean has a car downstairs waiting for us.”
    She came out of the bathroom. “What?”
    “Sean says we have to go.”
    “Why?”
    “I don’t know, but something’s wrong. He’s scared. Really scared.”
    “Scared of what?”
    I shook my head. “No idea.”
    “Why don’t they just go without us?”
    “I said that, but he said we all have to leave. The way he said it made me nervous.”
    “Do you think someone’s after him?”
    “It’s possible.”
    She went back into the bathroom. “Probably a jealous husband.”
    “Whoever it is, he’s shaken.”

    We packed our things and slipped out the back of the hotel as Sean had insisted. Lucy waved to us as we approached the van. The driver quickly put our luggage in back, then we climbed in. Sean was slumped down in the back seat, looking as nervous as a gazelle in lion country. As soon as we were inside, Sean said to the driver, “Let’s go.
Dépêche-toi.”
    The car pulled out quickly, making its way through the colorful city to the highway. Oddly, none of us said anything about our abrupt departure, though I noticed Sean looking in the driver’s rearview mirror a few times. I looked back myself, wondering if we were being followed—wondering what he’d gotten himself, and maybe us, into. Only when we were on the highway did he relax. “You’re going to love Cannes,”he said softly. “The film festival is over, but the celebrities usually hang out for a couple weeks after.”
    “We’re going to see famous people?” Lucy asked.
    “You can count on that,” Sean said. “Lots of famous people.”
    I looked over at Candace. She looked at me and shrugged. I wondered if we’d ever find out what had happened.

CHAPTER
Seventeen
    We are living the life of celebrity
.
    Luke Crisp’s Diary

    On the way to Cannes, Sean informed us that the celebrities who came for the festival stayed in yachts or five-star hotels, like the one he had booked for us—the InterContinental Carlton Cannes. The hotel was built in 1911 and was located on the famous Promenade de la Croisette, close to the festival.
    As we checked in, the clerk handed me a payment form to sign. I almost gasped when I saw the room rate. “Excuse me,” I said. “Is this correct?”
    “Is what correct?” he asked with a heavy French accent.
    “The price.”
    “Yes, sir. That is the correct price of the room.”
    The suites were nearly 2,800 euros a night—nearly $4,000. I turned to Sean. “Did you know it was this much?”
    He shrugged. “It’s Cannes,” he said, as if that explained everything.
    What made it worse was that I was still paying for Sean & Company. On the way to Cannes, Sean informed me that he still hadn’t worked out his credit card problem. He said his mother was an imbecile when it came to money,