The Eulalie Park Mysteries Box Set 2

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The Eulalie Park Mysteries Box Set 2 Page 46

by Fiona Snyckers


  “The father of the missing girl has hired me to investigate. I want to compare notes with Chief Macgregor.”

  Gigi winked at her. “No reason why it can’t be a business meeting and a hot date.” She went to the kitchen to collect her next order.

  Eulalie ordered a double cane brandy from the bartender but wasn’t too surprised when he handed her a glass of red wine instead.

  “Sorry. Angel’s orders. She said something about antioxidants.”

  Eulalie rolled her eyes. She knew all about her grandmother’s obsession with those mythical particles.

  “That looks good. I’ll have one too.” Chief Macgregor appeared at her side.

  The bartender moved away to pour it.

  “Hello.” He slid into the seat next to her.

  Eulalie smiled at him. “Hello.”

  “I want to kiss you now.”

  “And I want to kiss you. So, that’s a lucky coincidence.”

  He put a hand on her waist and leaned in, ignoring the stamps and wolf whistles from the restaurant staff.

  “Why do they do that?” He looked around wonderingly as they broke apart.

  “They’ve known me since I was a child. Teasing me is in their DNA.”

  He thought about this. “That’s not possible. Behavioral traits can become encoded in the DNA, but only over many…” He stopped himself. “You were joking.”

  Eulalie gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I was using a figure of speech.”

  He sat back and sipped his wine. As someone who had lived with high-functioning autism his whole life, he sometimes misunderstood social cues and misread people’s emotional reactions. This could cause him to become stressed, but never when he was with Eulalie. She was the most restful woman he knew. When he was with her, he felt as though the worlds of emotion and humor were accessible to him.

  “See?” said Gigi on her way back from the kitchen. “Hot date.”

  Eulalie gave her a light shove. Gigi laughed and kept walking.

  “I need to tell you something, Chief. Roland Chirac has hired me to investigate the disappearance of his daughter.”

  “Ah, yes, I thought he might. I was there when your grandmother encouraged him to contact you.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  “Of course not. I nudged him in that direction too. I had just come from a meeting at the governor’s office where I heard that our budget is being slashed yet again. We need all the help we can get.”

  “That’s not good news.”

  “Indeed. My narcotics detective is retiring at the end of this month. I’ve been told not to replace him. I have to move one of my murder detectives across to narcotics. That means my murder squad will consist of one detective and a couple of officers.”

  “Money is tight all round.”

  “Governor Montand ran on a ticket of good governance and fiscal discipline, so I can understand what he’s doing. My priority is maintaining law and order on the island, not investigating cold cases. That’s why I’m grateful for your help.”

  “Bonsoir, mes enfants.” Angel appeared on the other side of the bar. “What can I get you for dinner?”

  Eulalie looked at her with amusement. “Why don’t you just tell us what we’re having, Grandmère? It will save time.”

  Angel smirked. “Very well, ma chérie. I have a couple of plump quails for you, with roasted leeks and new potatoes.”

  “Soonds like a braw meal, as we say in Scotland.”

  Angel patted his cheek. “I forget that you’re Scottish sometimes. You have the accent, but it’s mild. You sound more English than Scottish most of the time.”

  “A public-school education will do that to a man.”

  Angel went to the kitchen to place their order. When she came back, Eulalie called her over.

  “You do yoga with Mrs. Belfast, Grandmère. Can you tell me what her deal is?”

  “What do you mean, mon ange?”

  “I mean, her personal life. Like, is she married? Has she ever been married? Does she have kids? That kind of thing.”

  “I’m afraid I have no idea. She is a very private person, this Lorelei.”

  It seemed to Eulalie that Angel was avoiding her eye.

  “You do know something. And you’re not telling me what it is.”

  “Assez! You cannot force me to reveal a confidence.” Angel poured herself a brandy and took a sip to soothe her nerves.

  “I would never ask you to betray a confidence. I just want to know if there is a reason for me to be worried. Is something going on that could affect my business?”

  “Why are you asking me about this now?”

  Eulalie pulled out the pictures she had printed earlier. She laid them on the bar for Angel and Chief Macgregor to look at.

  “This man’s face came up in an insurance fraud investigation. I showed it to Mrs. Belfast and she reacted strangely. It was as though she recognized him but didn’t want to admit it.”

  Angel looked from the quarter-face image to the computer-generated image. “Is this supposed to be the same person? He looks very odd.”

  “It’s a computer mockup of his face, based on the partial image we have from security camera footage. It is imperfect, of course, but I feel as though I would recognize him if I saw him on the street. He has a distinctive look.”

  “I have never seen him before,” said Angel.

  “Me neither,” said Chief Macgregor.

  “Well, if you see anyone who looks like this, please let me know. Queen’s Town Federal Life is one of my biggest accounts. Someone is targeting their clients with a malicious computer hack, and I need to find out who.”

  “Quails for two.” Gigi laid their dinner on the counter. “Angel, you’re needed in the kitchen.”

  “Excusez-moi, mes enfants.”

  The quails were bony and fiddly, requiring concentration to deal with. But they were undeniably delicious. Angel made it her life’s work to thwart Eulalie’s love of junk food, but the dishes she provided instead were always excellent.

  Only when their plates had been cleared away and they were waiting for their coffee did Chief Macgregor take up the subject of Rochelle Chirac again.

  “You know your client is our number-one suspect?”

  “Yes, I warned him of that. I told him the police would be investigating him and so would I.”

  “Detective Wright is going to speak to him tomorrow.”

  “Good. Then I can concentrate on other avenues. There was a woman on TV this evening who said she was at school with Rochelle. She runs a wellness center in town. I need to interview her. And, what about the rest of Rochelle’s family? Is Roland the last one left on the island?”

  “He and Rochelle’s mother got divorced when Rochelle was ten years old. It was acrimonious. He says he had to fight for every hour he spent with the children.”

  “Children? So she had siblings?”

  “Just one. A sister called Nicola. She supported her mother during the divorce, while Rochelle supported her father. It split the family in half. Three months after Rochelle went missing, her mother and sister moved to London. That’s where the mother was originally from.”

  “Three months? They gave up on her quickly.”

  “Everyone thought she had run away. No one suspected foul play. Only the father thought that she might not have left of her own accord, although he doesn’t seem to have done much about it.”

  Eulalie made a note of the names he had given her and added a reminder to herself to look up Rosalind Grier of the Reiki Wellness Center.

  “Does anyone know if she had a boyfriend?”

  “Apparently she did, but her father couldn’t remember his name. Her school friends will probably know.”

  They finished their espressos and said goodnight to Angel and Gigi.

  “Can you stay over?” Eulalie asked as they stepped onto Lafayette Boulevard.

  “If you don’t mind that I have to get up early. I have a five o’clock rowing
date on the river.”

  “I didn’t know you rowed.”

  “I started at school. It’s a good way to keep fit.”

  Eulalie ran her fingers over his shoulder and down his triceps. “So I see.”

  He reached for her hand and held it as they walked. “I’ll never get used to this. The way your skin feels against mine. You don’t make me want to run away.”

  “High praise, indeed.” She squeezed his hand.

  They were almost at her apartment when her phone buzzed. She frowned as she pulled it out of her bag. It was late for someone to be sending texts.

  Lorelei Belfast: Please come quickly. Someone has broken into my house.

  Eulalie stopped dead.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s Mrs. Belfast. There’s been an intruder at her house. I have to go to her.”

  “I’ll come with you.” He stepped onto Lafayette Drive and flung out an arm with such authority that a cab screeched to a halt next to him.

  “Twenty-five Admiral Drive, Sea View.” Eulalie read the address off the phone as they got into the cab. As it sped towards Sea View, she sent Mrs. Belfast a text to let her know they were on their way. They were almost at their destination when Eulalie’s phone buzzed again.

  Lorelei Belfast: I think I overreacted. You don’t need to come here. It can wait until morning.

  Eulalie: We’re nearly there anyway.

  Sea View was an unpretentious middleclass suburb. It attracted families who wanted to raise their children away from the bustle and traffic of the town, and retired people looking for a quiet neighborhood. Chief Macgregor lived there, just a few blocks from Admiral Drive.

  “Have you been here before?” he asked as they pulled up in front of Mrs. Belfast’s house.

  “A few months ago, when I offered her a job. I remember how neat and tidy everything was.”

  “Neat and tidy isn’t how I would describe it now.”

  There were lights on all over the house and the front door was standing open. The wood of the doorframe had splintered under the crowbar that had been used to open it.

  Mrs. Belfast’s immaculate house had been tossed. Drawers had been pulled out. Every closet door was hanging open. Items had been pulled onto the floor and left there.

  Mrs. Belfast crouched among the chaos, trying to put things straight. She turned with a stifled shriek as they walked in.

  “Sorry to startle you, Mrs. B. It’s not safe to leave your door standing open like that.”

  “I can’t close it. It’s broken.”

  “We’ll fix that before we leave.”

  “You shouldn’t have come at all, dear. I told you not to. I overreacted. This could have waited until morning.”

  Eulalie looked around, taking in every detail of the intrusion.

  “What part of this did you exaggerate, Mrs. B.? The mess? The chaos? This is one of the worst home invasions I’ve ever seen.”

  As tears trickled down her secretary’s cheeks, Eulalie rushed to comfort her.

  “Don’t cry, Mrs. B. I didn’t mean to upset you. We’re here now. Just tell us what happened.”

  Chapter 5

  “I’m making tea,” announced Chief Macgregor.

  Eulalie patted Mrs. Belfast’s shoulder. “Do you hear that, Mrs. B? The Chief is making us some tea. I think we all need some. Come and sit on the couch with me.”

  Mrs. Belfast got up from the floor and allowed herself to be led to the couch. Her hands were ice cold, so Eulalie rubbed them between her own.

  “Can you tell me what happened?”

  Mrs. Belfast’s mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. Tears continued to trickle down her cheeks. Eulalie spotted a throw blanket and arranged it around her shoulders. It was a warm evening, but shock made the body feel cold.

  Chief Macgregor came back from the kitchen carrying a tea tray. Eulalie poured a cup for her secretary, added two spoonfuls of sugar, and urged her to drink it.

  “I fixed the front door,” Chief Macgregor announced. “It locks again, but you should get it professionally repaired soon.”

  Mrs. Belfast nodded and sipped her tea. When she finished it, she was no longer crying or shivering. It seemed to Eulalie that she was calm enough to answer questions.

  “Were you here when it happened, Mrs. B., or had you gone out for the evening?”

  “I was here. I decided to get an early night. At about nine-thirty I locked up and went upstairs to bed. I read for a while but fell asleep quickly. I still don’t know what woke me. A sound perhaps. I hadn’t been asleep long.”

  “What time was this?” asked Chief Macgregor.

  “About ten-fifteen. I could see the display on my alarm clock. I heard stealthy sounds coming from downstairs. I thought it was the neighbor’s cat. She sometimes slips in through an open window and prowls around my house. I got up to check. I was halfway down the stairs when I saw that the front door was standing open. I must have been half asleep because my only thought was that I had forgotten to latch it properly and the wind must have blown it open. Then I saw someone rising up out of the darkness and I screamed. He turned and ran. That’s when I sent you the first text.”

  “You did the right thing. And you got Chief Macgregor here as a bonus.”

  Mrs. Belfast slid a glance at her former boss. From the start, she had seemed dismayed to see him. This was strange because Donal Macgregor was one of her favorite people.

  “Are you sure the intruder was male?” he asked.

  “I didn’t get a good look at him, but yes. I think he was.”

  “Did he go anywhere besides your living room?”

  “I don’t think so. The kitchen seems fine, and so does the half-bathroom. I must have surprised him before he could go upstairs.”

  “The part I don’t understand,” said Eulalie. “Is why you messaged me and told me not to bother coming.”

  “I… I couldn’t see anything missing, so it seemed like an overreaction to get you all the way out here at eleven o’clock at night.”

  “How can you tell whether anything is missing or not?” Eulalie gestured to the mess.

  “I don’t know. It just seemed as though nothing had been taken, and I didn’t want to bother you so late at night.”

  She was becoming agitated again, so Eulalie dropped the subject.

  “It’s okay, Mrs. B. We’ll help you tidy up now. You’ll be pleased not to have to face this mess in the morning.”

  This suggestion upset her most of all. She stood up, letting the blanket fall onto the couch.

  “Absolutely not. I won’t hear of it. You two must go now. I’ll see you at the office in the morning. This will only take me a few minutes to set to rights. It’s just one room, after all.”

  Eulalie and Chief Macgregor stood up too.

  “Are you sure, Mrs. B? I don’t like to leave you like this.”

  “I’m fine. Really.” Her voice was stronger now. “I want to go to bed and salvage what’s left of the night. I’ll deal with this mess in the morning.”

  Eulalie looked at her closely. There was steel in her spine and grit in her voice.

  “Fine. We’ll go now. But if anything else happens tonight, please don’t hesitate to call me. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Eulalie woke up later than usual the next morning.

  It had been well after midnight by the time she had collapsed into bed. Chief Macgregor had gone straight home. There were barely four hours before he had to be at the river for rowing practice.

  Eulalie slunk out of bed and fed the cat who had slept curled up against her hip all night.

  Then she got into the shower and tried to wash her fatigue away. She lowered the temperature of the water bit by bit until she was standing in a blast of cold water. It wasn’t pleasant, but it did the trick of chasing the cobwebs away.

  By the time she was dressed, she felt considerably better. She had just remembered that she had a new cereal to try.

  “Magic
Marvin’s Monster Sugar Bombs.” She read the box with deep appreciation. It was new on the market and came in an extra-large box, which meant that it had automatically found its way into her shopping cart.

  Eulalie poured herself a mound of Sugar Bombs and drowned them in milk. Then she sat at her kitchen table with a pot of coffee and a glass of orange juice and caught up on the news of the day.

  The hatching day scandal still dominated the news cycle. Rosalind Grier was quoted on three separate news sites and had managed to mention her wellness center in every interview.

  Someone on Twitter had found a photograph of Rochelle as a teenager standing next to her mother and sister. Eulalie studied it with interest. Rochelle looked like a media caricature of a troubled teenager. She had a tattoo on her upper arm, an eyebrow piercing, and enough black eyeliner to make her look like a giant panda. Her hair was dyed black and she was wearing a black trench-coat, which must have been murder in the island heat.

  Rochelle stood slightly apart from her mother and sister who had their arms wrapped around each other. They both had big, camera-ready smiles on their faces, while Rochelle glowered at the lens. It should have been easy to write off her attitude as teenage sulkiness, but there was a crease between her brows that spoke of real unhappiness.

  Eulalie finished her coffee, loaded the dishwasher, and went back to her bedroom to do her hair. It was a relief to be back in her familiar work clothes. She wore skinny blue jeans, a red tank top, ankle boots, and a light jacket. She blow-dried her hair smooth and tied it into a tail down her back.

  Eulalie called to the cat and the two of them walked down to the office together. Mrs. Belfast was already there.

  “Morning, dear.”

  She sounded like her normal self. She had obviously just arrived because she was still switching on the lights. She put the cat’s basket outside next to the front door. He liked to watch the world go by on Bonaparte Avenue.

  “I need to mail these when the post office opens.” She patted the pile of registered letters from the day before.

  “Okay.”

 

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