Shadowed-Death by Design

Chapter One - Escaping Is a Very Strong Word!

The young man with his arm around Lucy's shoulders, the one with the physique of a model, the one who had fallen asleep the minute he secured his seat belt on the red eye the night before, removed his slumber mask, leaned into Lucy, and whispered in her ear. “You cannot sleep on airplanes? Did anyone ever tell you that you are the exact clone of an American actress from the 1960's! But I cannot remember her name, which she changed when she married a French prince. As princess, she never acted again, but died before her time in a car crash." 

He gazed at Lucy with the most deliciously chocolate eyes. With a wolfish grin, he reluctantly withdrew his arm, whispering, "I would love to photograph you!" While the young man located his camera, he asked, "Are you in cinema, television, theater? Are you a model?" She shook her head no. "Well, you should be in front of a camera, with a delicate profile that makes an exquisite silhouette against the fresh light of the new day, intensified by the sun’s blinding glare off the endless ocean far below! Perfect timing! You are so photogenic!" All the while he snapped photos, he complimented her. "Perfection! Your nose, chin, and jaw line are cameo-like! Classic, delicate facial bone structure, penetrating blue eyes, striking platinum hair! Here is a business card. My father owns a modeling agency in Paris. I am Ian and my personal phone number is on the back. Call me! And you, what is your story?"

“I'm Lucy. At eighteen and a college freshman, I'm on my way to France, escaping from my boyfriend back home." 

“Lucy, ‘escaping’ is a very strong innuendo! What in the world did he do?”

“Forgive me, but I don't want to talk about him. If you really want to know, here is my journal. He is not a secret. I do not mind. In fact, I welcome constructive criticism of my work. I hope to bcome a writer." While he read, she investigated career possibilities and university classes in brochures from her backpack, having left her laptop behind to cut all ties to her ex. Soon other passengers began to stir, stowing blankets and pillows in the overhead bins. One by one, window shades opened and the strong aroma of freshly brewed coffee permeated the air. Ian finished reading, "Rand will kill me if I break up with him! But, by escaping now to avoid his abuse, I no longer feel hopeless and helpless." He closed her journal and took her hands in his. "I am so sorry, Lucy! How horrible! London already? This is where I get off. Join me for a cup of coffee while you wait for your connecting flight?" 

After arriving in Paris, Lucy boarded a train to Grenoble. On the white-knuckled bus ride up the steep mountain to the ski resort, the cumbersome vehicle somehow negotiated endless hairpin turns along abysmal edges of precipitous cliffs. Finally arriving safely, she settled into her room at the long established Alpe-d’Les Ecrins Hotel. It was Friday evening and, across the crowded hotel bar, she noticed a flash of light. Was that a badge? Then her eyes connected with those of a man who approached her, wearing a police uniform. Was she under age and was he going to bust her? Instead, Pierre Lecroix introduced himself and his friend Guy and asked if he could buy her a drink. Guy disappeared and the couple sat at a small table on the hotel terrace, where Pierre confessed that Lucy looked like a woman from his past, but he would not specify which one, no matter how hard Lucy tried to pry the info out of him. Lucy wondered if he was going to ask her out on a date for the following night.