Christmas in Paris (A Master Chefs Series Standalone Novel) Read Free

the Bataclan, some
were shot while dining in a restaurant and bombs went off at the Stade de
France.  It’s awful.  Just awful.”
    He
went numb and his gut threatened to evacuate its content.  His pilot had
mentioned a shooting and tight security at the airport, but nothing more.  So
eager to simply see Taryn, he’d neglected to ask for more information.  Even as
he’d noticed the eerie silence on some Paris streets, his mind had been solely
on seeing Taryn.
    “Who
did she leave with?”
    He
rang Taryn’s phone, but she didn’t answer.  In frustration, he tossed his phone
on the sofa, feeling increasingly sick.
    Wringing
her hands, Sam looked up in the air, searching her memory.  “I don’t know.  I
don’t remember.  Someone from the institute, but I don’t remember the name
exactly. Harry, Henry,… or maybe Perry.”
    “Someone
from the institute,” he muttered to himself as he paced the room.  But who? 
Errol grabbed his phone and called the police, but with the city in chaos, he
couldn’t even get through.  Overcome with fear, he sat down and put his head in
his hands.  “This is nuts.  What do I do?  What do I do?”
    “As
afraid as I am for her, Errol, I know that you have to be strong, for all of
us.  We can’t all collapse under the fear.  Taryn’s a smart woman.  She won’t
put herself in harm’s way.”
    “You’re
right.”  He looked at her and grounded himself.  He had to remain rational, for
all of them.  “Okay, I’ll see who’s heard from her.”  He called everyone he
could think of from the Culinary Institute.  Every call proved futile.  He
tried the studio where his cooking show was taped; still nothing about Taryn.
    “Is
everyone okay?” he asked Benoit, a devoted crew member.
    “Francois
was at Eagles of Metal Death concert, but his girlfriend said he made it out
okay.  Of course, he’s shaken up, as you can imagine.”
    “Of
course.”
    “It’s
horrible, Errol.  I’ve never seen anything like this.”  Benoit’s voice cracked
up.  “My God.  What is the world coming to?”
    “Stay
strong, Benoit, and France will get through this.  We’ll get through this.”
    “I
know,” he said with a sniffle.  “I know.  I’m trying, but man…”
    “I
know how you feel, believe me.”
    “Yeah.”
    “It’s
good to know you guys are all okay.  Stay safe.”
    “We
will.  Good luck finding Taryn.  I’ll let you know if I hear anything on this
end.”
    Once
again Errol thanked him then turned a dismal gaze to Sam.
    “Did
Taryn say anything about going to a concert?  There was an American band
playing in town.”
    “No. 
She was vague about where she was going.  Just dinner and then… out.”
    He
tried her phone again, and when she didn’t pick up, he left her a text begging
her to just let him know she was all right.  After a moment’s thought he made a
decision.  “I’m going to go down to the Bataclan to see if I can’t find
out anything.”
    “I’ll
go with you.”  Sam immediately popped out of her seat and reached for her purse
and sweater.
    “No,”
he said brusquely then softened his tone.  “Sorry about that, Sam. It’s too
dangerous. I didn’t mean to be so rough.  I’m a little on edge.”
    “Of
course.  Aren’t we all?”
    “I
think you should stay here in case Taryn comes back or calls.  There’s a chance
she just got caught up in the mass of people trying to get home.  Maybe she
lost her phone in the process, and that’s why she’s not answering. I’ll try
everything to find out where she is.”
    “Right. 
You’re right.  We have to stay positive, Errol.  She’s out there… somewhere. I
just know you’ll find her.”
    Nodding,
he pocketed his cell phone, grabbed his car keys and headed out. Driving
through the streets of Paris was suddenly like driving through a war zone in a
foreign country.  Either the streets were silent and bare, or they were crowded
with police officers.   Getting to