La Brat

by Ashe Barker

Aaron had to leave before she did to meet with Lucas’ bodyguard. He leaned in to kiss her, his breath feathering across her neck as he murmured in her ear.

  “I left you a present. You’ll find it in your desk drawer. Please be wearing it when you come up later.”

  She gazed after him as he strode away. It would be a butt plug, she was sure of that. Her ass tingled in excited apprehension. Tonight was going to be good.

  The waiter came to clear the table and asked if she required anything else. Eugenie was about to say no, but decided a cup of tea would be nice. She was on top of her work, she could afford the time for once. She had a meeting scheduled with Anton, but not for another hour. Her tumble down the stairs and Aaron’s reaction to it had taught her a valuable lesson about overworking. She ordered a tray and sat back to enjoy the unaccustomed solitude.

  From her vantage point, she could admire the neat informality of this secluded garden in the heart of the vibrant, throbbing city. A gardener passed their table, one of Aaron’s team probably, as she didn’t recognize him. The hotel was full of new faces just now. She watched as the slim figure made his way down the shrubbery, clipping off errant blooms and sweeping them into a sack attached to his belt. Not so much as a stray grass cutting was allowed to clutter the pristine footpaths. For a security guard, this young man seemed to understand horticulture, but she supposed the role was all about blending in.

  Her tray of tea arrived, and she drank her first cup of aromatic Earl Grey. She poured another, but decided she needed to visit the loo before drinking it. She passed the waiter on her way there and told him she was not yet finished and not to clear her table.

  As she made her way back to her table and the unfinished tray of tea, her mobile rang in her pocket. She recognized Farah’s caller ID from the display.

  “Good afternoon, Farah. How can I help you?”

  “Eugenie? I need to add four people to the guest list. Is that all right? It is not too late, I hope.”

  As if. Aaron would work all night if need be to follow up the security checks. And she would help him.

  “Of course. May I have their names, please?” Eugenie dug in her bag for the notepad and pen she always kept at hand. She scribbled the notes, knowing it was vital to get these latest additions to Aaron as soon as possible in order for his background checks to be completed in time. She ended the call and picked up her tea cup, but thought better of it.

  Her interlude was over. There was no longer time to linger if Aaron was to get to work on these extra names. She grabbed her belongings and hurried back indoors.

  Eugenie put down her pen and shook her hand. It hurt. No, not hurt—it was stinging. Really sore. She turned her palm up and was surprised to see the raised red marks across her skin. It looked as though she’d scalded it, but she knew she couldn’t have. She closed her hand into a fist, wincing. It seemed to be getting worse.

  Ten minutes later, she could no longer hold her pen at all. She hugged her hand to her stomach, in real pain now. She was due to meet with Anton in less than half an hour, but she knew she couldn’t ignore this. Using her left hand, she picked up the receiver of the phone on her desk and tapped in two numbers.

  “Fleur? Do you have a minute?”

  * * * *

  “This is a chemical burn.” The hotel doctor peered at Eugenie’s hand, turning it over and comparing it to the other, undamaged one. “I would estimate not that long since you were in contact with the irritant as the effects are usually very rapid. Acid perhaps, or maybe some sort of bleach.” As she spoke, she tugged Eugenie out into the corridor. She dragged her across the hall into the ladies’ toilet where she proceeded to hold her hand under the running cold tap. “This may not make a lot of difference now, but we should ensure there is no trace left of whatever has caused this. Do you have any ideas?”

  “Ideas about what?”

  They both turned at the sound of Aaron’s voice behind them. No one commented on his presence in the female toilets.

  “Eugenie has injured her hand. She has sustained a chemical burn.”

  He stepped forward, looping his arm around Eugenie’s shoulder as he leaned over to examine the damage. “How bad is it?” The question was directed to the doctor.

  “It bloody well hurts, that’s how bad it is.” Eugenie glared at her hand, still red and now looking swollen too.

  “It is difficult to tell unless we know what the cause was. It looks to be superficial, but I would like to refer you to the hospital. This is not a specialism of mine.”

  “But I…” Eugenie started to protest, her head whirling with all the reasons she could not leave the hotel right now.

  “I’ll come with you. Do you need your coat? Your bag?” Aaron was already steering her from the ladies’ washroom. “Apart from your office, where else have you been in the last half hour or so? Where might you have come in contact with this stuff, whatever it is?”

  “Nowhere else. I just came straight back here from the bistro.”

  Aaron dragged his phone from his pocket and tapped in a number.

  “Pierre? It’s Aaron. Could you do a check of Miss d’André’s office, please? You’re looking for any trace of a caustic substance, something that would cause chemical burns. If you don’t find anything there, could you check the route from the management suite to the terrace bistro?” He paused, turning to Eugenie. “I assume you came back the direct way? No detours?”

  She shook her head, starting to realize the implications if a guest were to come into contact with whatever substance had caused her injury. Aaron gave her a curt nod of acknowledgement before returning to his call. He never stopped walking, heading back to her office.

  “No, no idea what it is. My hunch is you’ll know it if you find it. Text me as soon as you have anything.” He ended the call as Eugenie picked up her bag from beside her office chair. She followed him quietly from the hotel to find a limousine already outside and waiting.

  “Nothing but the best for our key personnel. And this was handy. Get in.” Aaron held the door open for her then slid into the rear seat alongside Eugenie.

  * * * *

  Two hours later, they were back, Eugenie’s hand neatly dressed in a sterile bandage. The consultant at the accident and emergency department had diagnosed the burn to be superficial. Still painful and still prone to infection if not kept clean, he had assured her it was unlikely to leave a lasting or prominent scar.

  “It’s a good thing you don’t bite your nails.” The nurse who applied the bandage made her observation as he’d wrapped gauze around Eugenie’s hand. “Is that okay? Not too tight?”

  “It’s fine. What do you mean about my nails?”

  “This isn’t too bad. It’ll heal up just fine. It would have been a different story, though, if you’d ingested any of it. Internal burns are much more serious. So it’s lucky you didn’t put your hand anywhere near your mouth.”

  “I see. Yes.” Eugenie looked up as Aaron came back into the cubicle. He had been out in the corridor taking a call.

  “Was that someone from your team? Have they found anything?”

  “Yes. But it makes no sense.”

  “What do you mean?” Eugenie flexed her hand as the nurse secured the end of the bandage.

  “I’ll explain when we get back. Are we done here?”

  “Yes. All done. If you need any painkillers just take a couple of paracetamols.” The nurse collected her instruments and equipment back onto her trolley and wheeled it toward the curtain at the front of the cubicle. “If you have any worries just go back to the hotel doctor. And you’ll need to get the dressing changed in a few days. Your doctor can handle that too.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Aaron was deep in thought as Eugenie thanked the nurse and picked up her bag. They both followed the nurse into the corridor, Aaron intent on reading the latest text from Pierre, his deputy in the security department. His mood became even grimmer.

  The limousine was waiting for them in th
e car park outside. Neither of them spoke on the short journey back through the city, this time alighting at the staff entrance at the rear of the Totally Five Star. Aaron offered her his hand as she got out of the car then held onto it to tug her along.

  “Where are we going?”

  “The garden bistro. If you feel up to it. Unless you’d rather go back to your apartment? We can do this later if you prefer.”

  He was relieved as Eugenie shook her head. He wouldn’t push her if she was feeling too fragile but he really needed her input to help make sense of what he was learning.

  “I’m fine. It hardly hurts at all now. What did your people find? Something at the bistro?”

  “Yes. It’ll be easier to show you than to try to describe it, though. And I want to see for myself too. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes. I just want to get to the bottom of this now.”

  “Here we are.” Aaron led her through the indoor dining room and out onto the terrace.

  “Where’s our table?” Eugenie stared across the patio at the empty space where just a couple of hours ago she and Aaron had enjoyed their lunch together.

  “Over here.”

  They turned in the direction of the voice. A man in a smart suit emerged from a door beside the kitchens.

  “I sealed it, as you asked me to.”

  “Thanks, Pierre. Do you know Miss d’André?”

  “Enchanté, Madame.” The newcomer inclined his head in a slight bow. “I would offer my hand, but…”

  “No, of course. I’m pleased to meet you too, Mister…?”

  Aaron took up the introductions, keen to get on. “This is Pierre Barent, my deputy for the next couple of weeks or so. He’s an IT and electronics specialist. We decided we needed to beef up our team in some respects to ensure the best security possible for the wedding. Pierre came well recommended.”

  The pleasantries over, he turned to Pierre. “So, where is it?”

  Pierre led the way around to a storage area at the rear of the restaurant. He gestured to a table, now covered in a transparent plastic sheet. “Is that the one?”

  Aaron stepped forward. He circled the table then lowered himself into a crouch to look closely at its surface. “I’d say so. Do you agree, Genie?”

  She came to stand beside him. “I’m not sure. It looks like it. But they’re all the same, aren’t they?”

  Aaron chose not to reply to that. “Is the manager still on duty?”

  “No. He left about an hour ago. The waiter who first spotted the damaged table is here, though. Do you want a word with him?”

  Aaron nodded, still studying the tabletop. Eugenie followed his gaze. He knew from her small start of surprise the moment she spotted what was so interesting to him. A dull stain marred the otherwise smooth perfection of the varnished ebony surface.

  “What is that? Has something been spilled on it?” Eugenie bent to touch the plastic covering the tabletop.

  “Looks like it.” Aaron straightened as a young man dressed in TFS livery hurried toward them. He recognized him as the waiter who had taken their lunch order earlier.

  “Madame, monsieur? How may I be of assistance?”

  “Tell me about this mark on the table, please.” Aaron’s question might have sounded curt, but he softened it with a brief tilt of his head.

  The young waiter seemed eager to help. “Ah, oui. I came to clear away the tea tray, after Madame left.” He paused to nod in Eugenie’s direction. “I noticed the damage to the table. It is terrible. It must be repaired—or replaced. I told the manager about it and he asked me to bring the table back here until we could deal with it. It is not fit to be used like that.”

  Aaron frowned, trying to piece together an implausible sequence of events “No. Obviously. But how did it happen? What caused this damage?”

  “I do not know, sir. I had thought that perhaps you might be able to say. Or Madame? It was not damaged when I laid the table this morning. I am sure I would have noticed.”

  “And so would we if it had been in that state when we came here for lunch. Eugenie?”

  She shook her head, seemingly as puzzled as he was. “Yes, of course we would have noticed.”

  All TFS staff were under strict instructions to report any damage, deal with any imperfection as soon as they spotted it, no matter how slight. Those instructions applied at all times, but the usual high standards were even more rigid just now. They both knew that a damaged tabletop would not have been ignored by anyone.

  “Right. So we’re all agreed this table was the same one that was in the spot by the honeysuckle, where Miss d’André and I ate lunch about two hours ago? Yes?”

  Eugenie and the waiter nodded. Aaron was gratified to note that Pierre was also listening to the exchange with interest, his frown indicating that he also found this more than a little suspicious. It wasn’t just Aaron’s police training creating the unmistakable smell of a rat.

  “And at the start of our meal, it was in perfect condition. Are we also agreed on that?”

  He looked from one to the other as they both nodded.

  “Yet a few minutes after Miss d’André left, it was in this damaged state? Also correct.”

  The waiter nodded. “But it was not even a few minutes, sir. I saw Madame leave and came straight over to clear up.”

  “Right, so that covers my next question. But for the avoidance of any doubt, are you certain that no one else could have approached this table between Miss d’André leaving and you discovering this damage?”

  “Absolutely not, sir. No one. I came straight out to collect the tray and the table was already ruined.”

  “But you were here the whole time?” This question was directed at Eugenie.

  “Yes. I ordered another tray of tea after you went back to work and I drank one cup.”

  “You were at the table the whole time?”

  “Yes. No.” She looked up at him, her eyes widening. “Apart from a few minutes when I went to the loo. I took a call from Farah as I was on my way back to finish my tea. She told me she had additional names for the guest list. I made a note of them and came to find you in order that you could add them to your background checks. I did not sit again.”

  Aaron placed his palms on her cheeks, tilting her face upward so he could look into her eyes. “Think hard, sweetheart. Did you touch anything?”

  “No, I do not think… My bag, my pen.”

  Pierre stepped forward. “May I, Madame?”

  Aaron released her face and Eugenie handed her bag to Pierre. No one spoke as the deputy director of security rummaged inside and drew out a smart rollerball pen. Aaron recognized it as the one she usually used. Eugenie nodded her confirmation as Pierre held it up. “Yes, that is the one.”

  Pierre put it back in the bag and handed the whole lot back to her. “Nothing there, sir.”

  “You touched nothing else before you left? Are you certain, Genie?”

  Her brow furrowed, her eyes narrowing in concentration as she reran the series of events in her mind. Suddenly she looked up at him.

  “My cup. I picked up my tea cup. I had poured a second cup of tea but left it on the table when I went to the toilet. I intended to drink it when I returned, but the call from Farah changed my plans. I was in a hurry to bring you the new names so I put the cup back down and left it.”

  Aaron turned to the waiter. “Where is the crockery used by Miss d’André?”

  “In the dishwasher, sir.”

  “Pierre, I want every item in that dishwasher checked and tested. If there’s any trace of anything left, I want it found.”

  “On it, sir.”

  Pierre and the waiter hurried off in the direction of the kitchens. Aaron knew the chances of anything remaining once the steam wash cycle had run its course was remote, but he had to try.

  “You think my cup might have had bleach on it? Or acid?”

  Actually, he didn’t. His suspicion was rather direr than that. He suspected her tea its
elf might have contained the corrosive, and but for a stroke of luck she would have drunk it. Even if she had tasted the contamination immediately, the damage would have been done. He shuddered at the thought.

  Farah’s timing had been perfect.

  He toyed with the notion of protecting Eugenie from the knowledge of how close she may have come to disaster, but dismissed it. She needed to know.

  “The cup? Yes. It’s the only explanation we have and it makes sense. As I’m seeing it, while you were away from your table, someone was here. They poured the bleach or whatever it was onto the tabletop.”

  “But why? Why would anyone deliberately damage our furniture?”

  “They wouldn’t. My guess is that the damage to the table was accidental. The bleach was meant for your tea. But some was spilled. He was probably in a hurry, got careless, slopped it around a bit more than he intended.”

  “My tea! You think someone tried to put bleach in my tea?” Her face blanched, her eyes like saucers.

  He would have preferred to have spared her this, but if he was right, she needed to be on her guard. He nodded, his gaze holding hers. “Yes. That’s what I think.”

  “But why? Why would anyone want to hurt me?”

  Why indeed? Aaron shrugged, his mind turning over the facts, as he understood them. He could come up with no convincing reason for this attack on Eugenie, but the more he considered the situation the more convinced he became that this was the only possible conclusion.

  “What is happening here? Eugenie, I was informed you had had an accident. Are you all right?”

  They both turned at the female voice behind them. Elise had entered the storage area and was looking around her in astonishment. She took in the table wrapped in transparent plastic, Eugenie’s bandaged hand. Aaron knew his expression was grim but made no attempt to conceal it. This was serious and Elise needed to know what was going on.

  “I believe someone has attempted to poison Eugenie by putting a corrosive substance in her drink. Luckily, she didn’t ingest any of it, but her hand came in contact with some of the substance, probably spillage, and she has a chemical burn.”