She looked confused. Then she fainted. Her eyes rolled up and her knees buckled. I made a dive to catch her before she cracked her head on the floor. I held her and put my hand under her head, lifted her and put her in bed.
"Diana!" Kaz said, the urgency in his voice betraying the fear that was just under the surface. "What can I do?"
"She's okay," I said, to convince myself as well as him, to calm my own fears. I listened to her breathing and felt her pulse. Normal. It had all been too much, too elegant, too different. Too clean, too white, too pure. I stroked her cheek, one hand still cradling her head, and she half awoke, her eyes opening part way and meeting mine.
"Billy, what happened?"
"You fainted."
"Damn silly…" She shook her head as if to deny her weakness, then rested her cheek in the palm of my hand.
I knelt by the bedside, pressed up against the night table, as she curled her hand around my wrist. It wasn't really a comfortable position, but I liked it. I could hear the rhythmic, even sounds of her breathing as she dropped off to sleep.
I heard Kaz open the door. "I will be right back," he whispered.
By the time Kaz returned, I had managed to free my hand without waking Diana. I sat in the armchair near the window, watching her and looking out at the Mediterranean, trying to make believe we were on our honeymoon, at a seaside resort, and Diana was just taking a nap. The oversized fatigues and unlaced combat boots she was wearing didn't help my imagination. There wasn't much in the way of women's clothing available in U.S. Army warehouses, and I was wondering how to find her something else when Kaz walked in, carrying a couple of parcels and trailed by a very pretty young girl.
"Yvette, this is Lieutenant Boyle, and there is our friend, Miss Seaton."
"I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Lieutenant," she said in slow but proper English, holding her hands together in front of her. She wore a skirt with all sorts of flowers on it, and a white blouse with ruffled sleeves and blue embroidery around the neckline, a peasant blouse I think the girls back home called it. Her hair was brown, short and wavy, and she had a confident smile. Her eyes cautiously flitted around the room, taking in everything, assessing the situation, to see if whatever Kaz had said that had gotten her to accompany a stranger into a hotel room was on the up and up.
"Yvette works in a little shop down the street…" Kaz started to explain.
"What were you shopping for?" I asked in a low voice.
"I thought Diana would like some clothes and feminine articles," said Kaz, "so I went in search of a shop. Yvette was very helpful, and speaks excellent English." He nodded to her, and she returned the favor.
"That's nice," I said. "I don't mean to sound rude but what is she doing here?"
"I have engaged Yvette to stay with Diana for the rest of the day and night. She had just finished work at the shop, and is also free tomorrow. Her mother runs the establishment, and agreed once I explained the situation."
"Thanks, Kaz. I hadn't thought that far ahead."
"Yes, well, that is what friends are for, is it not?" Kaz didn't wait for an answer. He sat on the couch, opening the parcels with his good hand as Yvette held them for him. There was perfume, colorful silk pajamas in greens and blues, a long robe that looked almost like an evening gown, lipstick, and a bunch of make-up stuff that I could only guess at.
"Yes, it is, Kaz. Thank you. I'm glad you're here."
He stopped for a moment, then he looked at Diana, and at Yvette, standing in front of him holding an open box with silks spilling out of it in an eruption of colors. "You know," he said, a hint of amazement creeping into his voice, "I am glad also."
"Glad of what?"
We all turned to see Diana, awake and propped up on her elbows, blinking her eyes and looking at Yvette.
"Glad to see you, and to be among friends," Kaz continued, a smile lighting up his face. "This is Yvette, and she will stay with you tonight. Billy and I have some business to attend to."
Diana pushed herself up and said, "Be careful, both of you."
"We will be, my dear," Kaz answered. "We have all sorts of things here that Yvette picked out. I told her you were without anything a young lady needs and she has supplied you with all the basics." He spread his hands out to indicate the boxes strewn around the couch.
"Perhaps tomorrow, Miss Seaton, I can go out and purchase some dresses for you, if you tell me what you like."
"That sounds nice, Yvette," Diana said. "Very nice. And please call me Diana."
"Oui. Today, we can perhaps wash your hair, Diana," Yvette said. She had a very precise way of speaking, as if she were thinking about each word, which she probably was. Diana said something to her in French, not as slowly, and they both laughed.
"And shoes, also," Yvette said as she moved around the bed to help Diana take off the combat boots. "Yes, definitely shoes."
"I must go now," said Kaz. "I will speak to the kitchen about your meals and they will be brought to you. No army food will be allowed in this room, I promise you. I will meet you at the jeep, Billy." He made a little bow and smiled at Yvette before giving her the room key.
Her face lit up. One thing I could never figure out is the effect Kaz had on women. He's a short, thin guy with glasses, with a long scar on one side of his face. But there's something about him that drives women wild. Maybe it's that he's the kind of guy who thinks about buying soft frilly things. Or maybe it's the bow. I couldn't see myself pulling that one off.
I sat on the side of Diana's bed. Yvette got busy around the couch, picking up clothes, folding them, and putting them away in the dresser drawers.
"We'll be back in the morning," I said.
"You don't have to come back, you know," Diana said, watching Yvette opening drawers. "You came to Bone to rescue me, I know that. If it wasn't for you, I might be dead right now." Her voice trailed off, and I wondered if she was thinking back to that courtyard at the French supply depot and remembering raising that pistol to her head. Or, was she recalling Villard.
"But I will come back," I assured her.
"I'm not sure I want you to."
"Why? What do you mean?"
"You figure it out, you're the detective." Her eyes were filled with pain and hurt. She spoke again before I could, but she was done talking to me. "Yvette, help me up, please. I'd love to get out of these men's clothes and to bathe." She tried to swivel her legs around, pushing up with her hands. As she rose into a sitting position at the end of the bed, she winced.
"Can I help?" I asked, sounding like a little kid in the kitchen with his mother.
"No, no, no," said Yvette, advancing on me and wagging a finger. "This is work for women only. You must leave."
"Billy, please go, I know you have things to do," said Diana.
"Okay," I said, trying hard not to sound like a chump getting the heave-ho. "I just want to wash up for a minute before I go. I'll knock before I come out to make sure you're decent." I retreated to the bathroom. It was big, with a marble sink, nickel-plated fixtures, and a big freestanding tub on little claw feet with soft towels hung on either side. Nice bathroom for the honeymoon suite, I thought glumly as I looked at myself in the mirror. Everything about me was rumpled. Shirt, hair, even my face. I ran some water and washed, wanting to feel clean and fresh. I wet my hair and ran a comb through it, finding the part and noticing that my hair was already turning lighter and my skin darker as I spent more time under the North African sun. I gave myself the patented Billy Boyle smile, guaranteed to charm every time. I saw pearly whites against tan skin, but not a touch of charm. Then I heard a shriek. Without thinking I quickly opened the door.