Circumvent

By S.K. Derban

"...a contemporary Christian suspense that will intrigue you and keep you guessing. Circumvent was an engaging read. I think it would translate well into a movie… any producers please take note. --CHRISTIAN BOOKAHOLIC BOOK REVIEWS

This was a novel that I could not put down – I had to see what happened to Nikki (does she remember, do the criminals hurt her further) and Ruggiero (can he discover what happened to Nikki and where she is, and if he does find her – can he adjust to her loss of memory). It was an intense story full of surprise, hope and love – I loved every moment of their story!--WORKING MOMMY JOURNAL

Life is too perfect.
The writer falls in love with the baker.
The perfection turns to panic.

Life is too perfect... Imagine living in a quaint, beach front cottage on the Hawaiian island of Maui. You have an amazing job, combined with the pleasure of working from home. Lunch breaks become a daily picnic on the sand. Dessert is always included because of your marriage to a famous pastry chef. Life could not be any better. Or so it seems...

The writer falls in love with the baker... When French born, Nikki Sabine Moueix travels to Hawaii for a special work assignment, her job of writing an article about a famous Swiss pastry chef generates more than a magazine piece. They fall in love, get married, and Nikki Moueix becomes Mrs. Ruggiero Delémont.

The perfection turns to panic... When another assignment calls for Nikki to spend three weeks in France, Ruggiero's schedule prevents him from joining her. She travels alone, advancing straight into danger. After a threatening confrontation, Nikki wakes up in a French hospital with no knowledge of her past. When she fails to check in, Ruggiero panics and pushes for an immediate investigation. But as he closes in, Nikki's new found friend moves her to another city. It becomes a game of hide and seek with Nikki as the prize.

CIRCUMVENT allows readers to form a bond with Nikki as they yearn for her to remember. They will cheer for Ruggiero and his relentless determination to locate his beloved wife. This is a story about two people who never lose their faith in God, and find amazing friends to help them along the way.

• Language: English
• Publisher: TouchPoint Press
• Release date: Nov 10, 2017
• ISBN: 9781641867726

Book preview

Acknowledgments

Thank you to Jesus, the Author of Salvation, El-Shaddai.

Thank you to Michele and Peter… This one finally made it to print!

With love and gratitude to my fellow author, Madeline Grace.

Thank you to my Editor, Ashley Carlson for being so wonderful. You made it fun!

Deep gratitude to my Publisher, Sheri Williams. Thanks for being my friend!

Acknowledgments

Prologue

Chapter One - Home in Paradise

Chapter Two - Beaujolais Nouveau

Chapter Three - Mako - As In Shark

Chapter Four -Online Booking

Chapter Five - Flash Drive

Chapter Six - The Spy

Chapter Seven - Missing

Chapter Eight - Amnesia

Chapter Nine - Waiting Game

Chapter Ten - Help Arrives

Chapter Eleven - Little Rabbit

Chapter Twelve - The First Sighting

Chapter Thirteen - Hour Long Minutes

Chapter Fourteen - Manipulation

Chapter Fifteen - A Piece of the Puzzle

Chapter Sixteen - Call to Homeland

Chapter Seventeen - Traboules

Chapter Eighteen - Worm Hole

Chapter Nineteen - A Day in Vieux Lyon

Chapter Twenty - Like Ships in the Wind

Chapter Twenty-one - Same Airplane – Same Row

Chapter Twenty-two - The Video

Chapter Twenty-three - Another Clue

Chapter Twenty-four - By Invitation Only

Chapter Twenty-five - Holiday in Nice

Chapter Twenty-six - Melting Pot

Chapter Twenty-seven -Who Am I?

Chapter Twenty-eight - The Set-up

Chapter Twenty-nine - A Special Day

Chapter Thirty - Her First Look

Chapter Thirty-one - So Many Hats

Chapter Thirty-two - Let’s Eat Meat

Chapter Thirty-three - Stood Up

Chapter Thirty-four - Breathing Room

Chapter Thirty-five - Water of Life

Chapter Thirty-six - Home

Epilogue

Prologue

Last Monday in October

Lyon, France

Nikki

Outside of the Metro Cordeliers subway station, Nikki descended the cement ramp with plans of hailing a taxi. She towed a duet of stacked, attached suitcases with her right hand, and carried a leather tote on her opposite shoulder. Nikki used her free hand to brush the curls away from her eyes and caught the attention of one particular driver.

The driver leaned against his idling vehicle with one foot casually crossed over his standing leg. Nikki watched him watch her as he adjusted his gray flannel driving beret. When she reached the sidewalk, he spoke.

Bonsoir, mademoiselle, he said in French. I am Philippe Golmard, absolutely the best taxi driver in all of Lyon. He side-stepped to open the rear car door. This is your lucky night, beautiful mademoiselle. I am available and at your complete service.

Nikki’s delicate shoulders quivered as she chuckled softly. Frenchmen, she thought. They will never change. Merci beaucoup, she spoke the language flawlessly. Your offer is hard to resist. With slim fingers, she adjusted the strap of her black tote and continued her explanation, But my hotel is so very close, and after sitting for such a long time, I need to stretch my legs.

But, mademoiselle, even by such high French standards your beauty leaves me breathless. It is not good for you to walk alone.

You are very kind, but I am not going far.

If you are staying at the Grand Boscolo, I can have you there in two minutes. Then, you can stretch your legs without carrying the weight of your bags.

With a polite, but dismissive motion of her hand, Nikki smiled at his perseverance. Fortunately, she was extremely familiar with the many one-way streets and pedestrian-only areas. With or without luggage, walking would be the fastest way to go. She renounced his offer with a turn of her head. Merci, but perhaps another time, she murmured while continuing by.

As Nikki rounded the corner of the first street, a gentle breeze blew several strands of her long, free-flowing hair. The curly wisps tickled her nose until a row of trees diverted the current’s path. She followed the natural windbreak as the street curved away from the direction of her hotel. Nikki had a passion for shopping but was purposefully avoiding the busy pedestrian area. Instead, she opted to walk around, knowing an attempt to navigate through the crowds while carting her luggage would only cause a delay. Besides, she thought. I will need two free hands to do any real shopping damage. Nikki’s facial expression loudly announced her mischievous expectation of spending her first full day hitting the French stores. Work would come soon enough.

Finally, she made the necessary left turn and began negotiating the downward slope of a quiet side street. Nikki never expected her route to be completely void of people, and yet, surprisingly her neck hairs bristled when she heard footsteps from behind. While keeping her pace constant, she quickly glanced over her right shoulder and spotted a man who looked vaguely familiar. I know him from somewhere, Nikki thought. Still not certain, and feeling a strange vulnerability, she increased her stride and continued pressing ahead. From the sound of his footsteps, Nikki could tell the man had also sped and was gaining on her. Fear galvanized her when she suddenly heard him break into a run.

Nikki gathered her inner strength, then stopped, and turned to confront the man. She focused on his features and finally remembered. It’s you! You’re from Maui, she accused. "You drove my airport shuttle. What are you doing here in France, and why are you following me?"

I, uh. The man’s clouded eyes darted nervously in their sockets. We gave you the wrong bag, he responded anxiously.

What do you mean? I don’t understand. Nikki looked down at her bags and instantly recognized her custom brass identification tags. With a creased forehead, her dark eyebrows dipped inwardly. What is really going on here? she demanded.

The man stepped closer. Look, lady, I—

Nikki instinctively moved backward. Get away from me! she shouted. Dear, God! Nikki screamed for help as his thick palm closed around the lower carrying handle of her rolling, ground suitcase.

Just give me the bag, the man growled between clenched teeth.

Making the instant decision to give up the suitcase and relinquish a few clothes, Nikki immediately released her grip on the rolling handle. But, as she attempted to run away, Nikki’s arm jerked painfully backward.

The man continued to tug at the suitcase, forcing her feet to slide toward him along the cement walkway. Let go! he insisted.

I can’t! she screamed. My bracelet is caught!

With one powerful yank, the man tore the bag from Nikki’s outstretched arm causing her to lose balance. Blinding pain shot through her system as Nikki’s head smacked against the concrete sidewalk. She moaned softly while straining to see through the rapidly collecting haze. Nikki’s eyelids continued to flutter as the gray turned to black, and she slipped from consciousness.

Chapter One - Home in Paradise

Two Months Earlier

Lahaina, Island of Maui, Hawaii

Nikki tiptoed into the bedroom of their oceanfront beach cottage and gently placed a mug of steaming coffee onto the white, enamel telephone table. She turned to grasp hold of the blue-and-white-striped duvet when her husband spoke.

I smell something wonderful, Ruggiero murmured with his eyes still closed.

Darn, Nikki moaned while sliding beneath the cotton sheets. I wanted to wake you with a kiss. Dressed in a knee-length, red-and-blue football jersey, Nikki slid one leg over her husband’s pelvic bone and sat straddling his bronzed frame.

That sounds good to me. Give me a second, and I’ll go back to sleep. Ruggiero locked his eyelids and pretended to snore.

Nikki leaned forward, pressing against Ruggiero’s bare chest and placed her soft, full lips upon his. Morning, sweetheart, she whispered. It’s time to wake up.

Ruggiero responded by wrapping his strong arms around Nikki’s lean back and drawing her closer. He then faked a scream, Oh no! Ruggiero pushed his masculine fingers through her wildly flowing curls. Save me, save me, I’m trapped!

Nikki raised herself to a sitting position while laughing at his antics. She then grabbed handfuls of her elbow length hair and held it to the top of her head. I thought you liked my hair, she pretended to pout.

Ruggiero’s dimples deepened with his grin. Wrong. I don’t like your hair, he corrected. "I love your hair, and I especially love the way the dark-brown color matches those cute little freckles on your cute little nose."

Nikki released her hair to touch the demure bridge of her nose. What freckles?

I see about five. Ruggiero touched each one counting. No, seven, he countered. Then, with a sparkle in his ocean-blue eyes, Ruggiero looked sideways toward the table. Now, didn’t I smell something wonderful?

Oh! You were talking about the coffee? While holding his hand, Nikki leaned far enough to secure the cup without having to move from her position on his hips. She held the white porcelain mug up to her nose, and commented, Um, it does smell good. Want some?

Always, he sounded suggestive.

I meant coffee, Nikki teased.

Ruggiero’s eyes widened to reveal tiny flecks of a violet color mixed within the blue. Why not have both? he asked.

Nikki’s naturally pink lips formed a slight, closed mouth smile You know something? she asked. You’re nuts.

About you, he responded.

Nikki held tightly to the mug and lifted her body while her husband inched his body out from beneath her. Then, they both assumed cross-legged positions on the bed, facing each other. Ruggiero took a sip of his coffee. What time is it anyway? he asked.

Still early, it’s six, just like you asked.

Wow, that’s great. He rubbed at his morning stubble. Thanks for waking me. For some reason, it just seemed later.

It will be if you don’t hurry. Nikki uncrossed her legs and stretched to kiss his forehead. She then carefully inspected his scruffy hair and attempted to comb her fingers through the damaged strands. You need to use my conditioner. Your hair is taking a beating from all the sun and saltwater. I hate to tell you this, Rugi, but it’s beginning to look a little like straw.

Like straw? Not my beautiful blond locks.

Nikki continued to move her fingers between the strands. Your so-called beautiful blond locks are also not all blond, she declared, suddenly laughing. I dare say there is some silver mixed in with the gold.

Did you say silver? Ruggiero groaned. Am I going gray?

Don’t panic. I see one, two, she paused. No, three strands. Plus, it could be just extra bleaching from the sun.

I’m only thirty-five, he argued.

Yes, and you work too hard.

Work, huh? I also know how to play. Ruggiero held his coffee with one hand while sliding his other beneath her shirt.

Nikki squirmed. Sorry, Rugi. No time right now. Remember, I’m working.

He lifted her jersey and peaked beneath. Ooh la la, black silk panties and no bra. Does your boss know how you dress, or should I say undress for work? he teased.

She slapped playfully at his hands. Of course, he doesn’t. Not when I work from home and my boss is in New York. Besides, I thought you wanted to go surfing?

Who can think of surfing when a beautiful, half-naked French woman is sharing my bed?

Nikki took the empty mug from his hands. "You, that’s who! I don’t want some quick, slam-bam, thank you, ma’am. Now, get going!"

Do you really think I would love you and leave you?

I don’t just think it; I know you would— in a heartbeat. I know how you are when the waves are calling. In fact, when it comes to the three S-words, I think you would have a difficult time choosing a favorite!

Ruggiero chuckled. Let me guess. The three S-words are surfing, skiing, and sex?

Nikki joined in his laughter. You’ve got it, and probably in that order.

You think you know me pretty well, don’t you?

"I know that I know you very well."

Tell you what, Ruggiero said, standing. He pulled Nikki to her feet and drew her body to mold against his. How about if I pay more attention to you than the waves?

Rugi, I’m so sorry, but I have a conference call to make. You’ll just have to have fun surfing instead.

Do I have to? he asked, teasing.

Yes, you have to. Now, get going!

Chapter Two - Beaujolais Nouveau

While still dressed in the baggy football jersey with her hair pulled away from her face into a high ponytail, Nikki stood at their kitchen stove frying bacon. Cautiously aware of the sizzling grease, she lifted the pieces slowly and turned them one slice at a time. While cooking, Nikki looked out their sliding glass door at Ruggiero. He had finished surfing and was now rinsing his feet. Nikki smiled as she watched her husband in his coral swim trunks and a white T-shirt. Ruggiero stood on the lower step of their beach front porch and was using the hose to remove the sand.

Nikki glanced at him several times, and then called out as Ruggiero slid open the screen. How was it? she asked him.

Ruggiero’s tanned bare feet stepped onto the smooth service of their varnished wood floor. Great! He beamed. Then, using a corner of his brightly colored beach towel, he rubbed aggressively at his already tousled hair. You know. I think you were right about my hair. Ruggiero twisted a clump between his fingers. It does feel like straw.

Don’t worry, honey. I’ll fix you right up with all of my fragrant products.

He approached her from behind and was able to look over her shoulder directly into the pan. At six feet even, Ruggiero stood exactly a half foot taller than his wife.

Nikki patted the side of his muscular thigh. Hungry? she asked, enjoying his closeness.

I’m famished. I rode a lot of waves. He then opened their refrigerator and retrieved six large eggs.

Rugi? Nikki sounded serious. Do you ever miss the snow? I mean, are you sorry that you left?

Not really, he said, tilting his head. Ruggiero momentarily looked beyond Nikki, appearing to concentrate. There are some parts of Switzerland that I miss. His eyes captured hers. But, I definitely do not miss the cold. Are you really asking if I would want to move back?

Yes, maybe a little.

Then, my answer would have to be no.

Nikki cracked the eggs into a bowl. What about skiing? She beat the eggs with a wire whip.

Ruggiero sighed. I do miss skiing, but just a bit. You know that before I moved to the Islands, I was more into snowboarding, and one board is almost like another.

After pouring the eggs into the sizzling pan, she paused to look at him sideways. Yeah, right, Nikki sounded sarcastic. Plus, water is water whether it’s liquid like the ocean, or frozen like snow!

Ruggiero laughed. "Exactly! Now who is nuts?"

"You are, Rugi. You’re the one who’s nuts."

About you, Nikki Delémont. He patted her tight buttocks. I am nuts about you. Now tell me. What’s with all the questions? Do you miss New York?

It was Nikki’s turn to laugh. Not in the least.

What about France?

Well, Nikki hesitated. I do love it there, but I just love it here more. Remember, we originally moved to the States when I started high school. I’ve been away from France for quite a long time.

Then what is it?

An assignment for work, the conference call I told you about.

Do I detect a look of joy on that beautiful face of yours?

Yes, you do. A look of incredible joy. Nikki exaggerated an ear to ear, white-toothed grin. I do believe I just landed one of the best assignments ever!

Well, don’t keep me in suspense.

"The magazine is sending me to the harvest celebration for vin primeur."

If my minuscule French is correct, you, my dear Nikki, are returning to France for the harvest celebration of Beaujolais Nouveau.

Nikki used the spatula to stir the eggs, and then carefully flipped the bacon one final time. Can you believe it? she asked, excitedly. Isn’t it a great assignment?

It’s a fantastic assignment, and tailor-made just for you. Ruggiero sat at their wide kitchen counter, while Nikki filled two plates and placed them opposite each other.

Thank you, my love, he said, reaching for her hand. Let’s pray.

After thanking God for their breakfast, Nikki rested both her hands upon his golden forearms. Oh, Rugi, she said. It’s not just a perfect assignment for me. You’re a chef, so it’s perfect for us. You just have to come with me. She reached for the pepper and lightly dusted her bacon.

Well, sure I will if I’m not in the way of your work, of course.

Nikki’s eyes widened as she swallowed a fork full of scrambled eggs. In the way? You could never be in the way!

Then tell me, my sweet, he said while munching on the crisp bacon. When do we leave?

The last week in October.

October? Am I forgetting something, or isn’t the Beaujolais Nouveau harvest always celebrated on the third Thursday in November?

"Don’t worry; your culinary credentials remain intact. The magazine wants to go all out with a full piece on Beaujolais wine. I’m going to the ten villages, the crus, and will end the article with the celebration harvest."

That sounds wonderful, but we have a slight problem. He piled eggs onto a piece of wheat toast, folded the bread and inhaled a huge mouthful.

I see your mouth is now conveniently jammed. Nikki eyed him suspiciously as she inquired, Just how slight of a problem do we have?

Ruggiero lowered his squared chin. Nikki, he extended the sound of her name. Do you remember how we met?

Of course, I remember.

Ha! Not only can I hear the doubt in your voice, but I can also see it in your gorgeous chocolate-brown eyes.

It’s not that I don’t remember. I just—

"Your magazine, Chef de Cuisine assigned you to write a story about me, he interrupted. Am I right?"

You are right. They wanted a story about Ruggiero Delémont, one of the best pastry chefs in the entire world.

While continuing to munch on his impromptu egg sandwich, Ruggiero loudly cleared his throat.

Sorry, Nikki quickly corrected herself. "Ruggiero Delémont, the best pastry chef in the entire world!"

Thank you. Ruggiero flashed his wife a dazzling smile. Now, tell me what prompted this article? he pressed.

Nikki’s shoulders instantly slumped. It was because of the Lahaina food festival, she responded quietly.

A Taste of Lahaina, he corrected.

Well, whatever it’s called, she pouted. I thought it was always in mid-September.

It is usually the second weekend, but sometimes the third. Remember though, the Aloha Festival in Lahaina Town follows just one month later.

You can still make it then. The Aloha Festival will be over before we are even scheduled to leave.

Yes, but the crowds won’t. October is one of our busiest months.

I suppose you have to be there?

Of course not! I’m sure the owners of Restaurant Blue won’t care if I take a month off during one of their peak seasons.

Nikki sighed while extending the glass carafe. Would you like some more coffee?

Ruggiero nodded and raised his mug. Yes, please.

She began to pour while asking: Then, do you think it would be possible to take some time off in November and meet me for a couple of weeks?

I’ll just have to find a way since I don’t have a choice, he responded in a matter-of-fact tone. Do you really think I can be away from the love of my life for an entire month?

Nikki walked around the kitchen counter to wrap her arms around his neck. So, what are you saying? It is fine to be away from me for two weeks, but a month is too much?

Ruggiero turned his head to kiss her cheek. Two weeks is too much, but don’t worry, I can make it work if I’m home before Thanksgiving.

I know, Nikki murmured, remembering. There is a short window before the crowds return.

That they do, Ruggiero agreed. Fortunately, Thanksgiving falls later this year. I can probably meet you during the second week, and then leave after the third.

Nikki’s broad smile reflected her joy. Does that mean you will be with me for the actual celebration?

I guess it does.

Ruggiero Delémont, do you know how much I love you?

Don’t have a clue, he teased. Tell me.

I have a better idea. Nikki snuggled into his muscular frame. How about if I show you?

Now that does sound like a plan.

Chapter Three - Mako - As In Shark

After entering the dining establishment named Restaurant Blue, Nikki saw the head bartender standing behind the bar with his back toward her. Wanting to surprise him, she tiptoed toward the long row of empty barstools. In the mirrored wall, Nikki caught Mako’s reflection as she slid onto one of the center stools. The friendly, Hawaiian bartender pivoted to greet her. Aloha, beautiful.

Nikki extended a perfectly manicured hand. Her short nails were painted a perfect red to match her dress.

"Aloha, Mako. It’s great to see you. How are you?"

Mako dipped his head to kiss her hand. Delighted to see such a vision, he replied. That is one beautiful sundress.

Thank you. She smoothed the hibiscus red material while admiring the tiny yellow flowers. I thought Rugi would like it."

Who cares if Rugi likes it? Mako teased. I like it!

Nikki threw her head back in fervent laughter. Mako, are you flirting with a married woman?

Mako’s facial expression feigned disappointment. Darn, that’s right. You did get married. I forgot, he mumbled, then quickly illuminated his captivating coal-black eyes. A slight grin