by Deanna Chase
“Mamie, go back to what you were doing. Madame O’Connell, go put on a pot of tea. We will be there in a moment.”
Then to Angie, she said, “Come here, girl.” Lissette opened her arms. Angie skirted the maimed rabbit and fell into the woman’s embrace. The moment she felt her arms close around her, the tears began to fall.
Claude drove through the gates toward the Chateau de Beauchamp and Jon-Luc whistled. “Holy crap. Designing clothes must pay a hell of a lot more than I ever imagined.”
“Madame Beauchamp inherited the bulk of the estate from her late husband, who was a billionaire. I did a little research on the internet. Evidently, back in the sixties, she was a famous fashion model here in France when she met her husband.
"After they married, she gave it all up. He traveled extensively on business and they did not want to be separated. He was twenty years her senior. He died just a few years ago. They never had children and his family consisted of a few distant cousins.”
Jon-Luc marveled at the sprawling ivy-covered Tudor style mansion while Claude headed in the direction of a couple of police cars with flashing lights to the left of the home. After closing the car door, he followed his friend toward a small cottage behind the main house that probably served as a guest quarters or servant’s residence.
As they got closer, Claude’s brisk French littered the air and the men snapped to attention, backing away so he and Jon-Luc could see the reason they were there.
From where he stood, Jon-Luc could only see the back of a rabbit as it hung by the neck facing an open door. A puddle of blood lay on the front stoop, drying in the morning sun. Claude took a pen from his pocket and poked the carcass until it faced them.
“Nasty,” Jon-Luc said as he scratched his chin.
“Not a pretty sight, I agree.” Claude removed the pen and the tiny body swung around.
“Not something I'd want to see first thing in the morning. Who's staying in this house?” Jon-Luc asked to no one in particular.
One of the policemen spoke up. “A woman who works for the Madame who owns the château. She is up at the main house.” He pointed toward the mansion they'd passed.
“We will go up and interview her.” After making certain the crime scene was protected and the forensic team had been called, Claude led the way across the large expanse of lawn toward the back of the house.
Claude knocked on a set of glass French doors and waited until a young woman in a maid’s uniform appeared. He showed her his credentials and she stepped back to let them enter. He asked after the woman of the house and the maid led them to the parlor.
There, Jon-Luc noticed a striking brunette somewhere in her fifties, if he had to guess. She wore a straight skirt with a fitted suit jacket in royal blue, small earrings and a string of pearls around her neck. Her makeup was simple, but effective. Jon-Luc assumed she must be Madame Beauchamp.
She sat in a chair pulled close to the couch, and her hands rested on a younger woman’s knees. The other woman clutched a tea cup with both hands, which trembled ever so slightly. Madame Beauchamp murmured softly. Jon-Luc zeroed in on the younger woman’s face.
“Angie?”
Angie’s head swiveled toward him. “Jon-Luc?”
“You two know each other?” Madame Beauchamp asked.
“Yes,” they said in unison.
Madame’s eyebrows rose. “Interesting.”
Angie turned toward her. “He’s the man who interviewed me yesterday about Genevieve Lamont.”
Madame glanced at Jon-Luc, then back at Angie. A smile touched her lips. “I see.”
“What are you doing here?” Jon-Luc focused intently on Angie as he awaited her answer.
“I live here now. I mean, as of last night. I’m staying in the guest quarters. What are you doing here? I thought you were investigating that serial killer.” Her face went pale. “Oh, no, don’t tell me there’s been another murder.”
The men grew silent.
Claude spoke first. “I flagged Madame Beauchamp’s name in the system. I received a call from dispatch regarding the trouble here this morning. We rushed over to see if it had anything to do with our investigation.”
Lissette Beauchamp took a deep breath and relaxed against her chair. “Ah. Well, certainly this does not have anything to do with the murders.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure. This is a threat, a vicious one. And it seems to be directed toward Angie in particular. We have no way of knowing the other girls didn’t receive a similar threat but kept it to themselves,” Jon-Luc said.
“Oh, my God, you may be right. Demetrius wanted to simply cut it down. He said he wouldn’t bother the police with a silly prank. Maybe the other girls thought the same?” Angie said.
“Who is this Demetrius and where is he now?” Jon-Luc felt his temper rise, but kept his best poker face in place.
“I’m sure he is around here somewhere. I told him to call the police,” Madame said.
“We would like to speak with him,” Claude said.
Madame Beauchamp stood and walked over to a table where she picked up a phone, then punched in a couple of numbers. “Mamie, please find Demetrius and tell him to come to the parlor.” She listened a moment, then, “I see. I will try him on his mobile.”
She directed her next comment to the men still standing in the doorway. “He told Mamie he could see he would not be needed for a while, so he went to run some errands. I’ll just call him and tell him to return. Why don’t you gentlemen take a seat and make yourselves comfortable. Can I get you some coffee, maybe tea?”
Jon-Luc perked up at the suggestion. “Coffee would be great, thank you.”
“And you, monsieur…?” Madame Beauchamp let the question hang in the air.
“Inspector Claude Rousseau.” He flashed his credentials. “And this is my associate Jon-Luc Boudreaux.” He pointed in Jon-Luc’s direction who nodded. “Coffee would be nice, thank you.”
Jon-Luc sat on the sofa next to Angie, while Claude sat in a chair opposite. Lissette picked up the house phone and ordered a pot of coffee. Then she dialed again. He heard her voice, but not the words. His focus had been drawn to the woman beside him. After Madame Beauchamp hung up, she said, “Demetrius did not pick up, so I left him a message. I am certain I will be hearing from him soon.”
Jon-Luc looked across at Claude and knew he was thinking the same thing. The guy was avoiding the police. The question was, why?
Madame Beauchamp sat down and placed her hands in her lap, her back ramrod straight. “Now gentlemen, how can we help you?”
Over the next two hours they questioned the women together. Not only about the dead rabbit and whether anyone had heard or seen anything the night before, but also about Claira Raines. The moment she learned of Claira’s demise, Madame Beauchamp broke down in tears. Angie looked as if she couldn’t take another blow. Her face turned chalk white and her hands twisted in her lap. It was all Jon-Luc could do not to put his arms around her.
“Ladies, I don’t like leaving you here unprotected,” Jon-Luc blurted out.
“I can have a patrol car drive by every hour,” Claude offered.
“Do you have a security system?” Jon-Luc asked.
“Why yes. It is by the front door,” Madame Beauchamp said.
Jon-Luc stood. “We should check it out, if you don’t mind.”
Madame Beauchamp rose from her chair. “Of course, this way.” She walked toward the front of the house. Claude followed. Jon-Luc's eyes followed the two as they left the room, then seized the opportunity to be alone with Angie. He dropped back down on the couch and placed his arm around her shoulders protectively.
“Are you all right?” he asked quietly. Her big eyes stared at him a moment before answering.
“I suppose.” Her words just above a whisper.
It was killing him, all the life seemed to have drained out of her. All her spunk had fled. He stroked the back of her head once before he let his hand drop. “I don’t want t
o leave you here. We have no idea what kind of sick fuck we’re dealing with right now. The fact he seems to have turned his attention to you angers and scares the shit out of me all at the same time.”
“What are you going to do, put me in your back pocket?” she said sarcastically.
He smiled and took her chin in his hand. “I would if I could.”
Her brows furrowed. “You don’t even know me.”
“You're right.” He turned away as if he’d been slapped.
“Look, you’re very kind, but I’m not your responsibility.”
That ticked him off. His head swung back and his eyes locked with hers before he answered. “I know I’m not crazy," he ground out. "There's something going on here between us. I feel it every time I’m around you. I know you feel it too. So don’t go acting like I’m some kind of weird stalker guy for worrying about you.”
She broke eye contact first and looked down, then placed a hand on his knee. “I know, you’re right. I’m sorry,” she said at last. “But I’ll be okay.”
“Will you? While you slept all warm and cozy in your bed last night, some psycho was carving up a rabbit to surprise you with this morning.” Angie visibly shivered while she gazed up at him with wide eyes. “I don’t want to imagine what he's dreamed up for you tonight.”
Jon-Luc stared into those bright blue eyes and saw fear, vulnerability. He couldn’t take it anymore. He put his hands on her cheeks, then leaned over and kissed her gently on the mouth. He pulled back and waited for her to protest, and when she didn’t, he did it again, this time with feeling. The moment his tongue met hers, he moaned. He pulled her into an embrace and deepened the kiss. He didn’t want it to end.
Someone cleared their throat and they jumped back like a couple of teenagers caught by their parents. Claude and Madame Beauchamp stood in the doorway smiling.
“So, uh, would you like me to leave you here, or are you going with me?” Claude asked.
“No, I… ah.” He didn’t know if he could stand, or if his jeans would camouflage his erection. “Right.” He got up facing Angie and shoved his hands in his front pockets. “I’ll call you later.” She nodded and smiled. Then he turned and faced his friend who wore an irritating grin. Jon-Luc scowled.
14
Once in the car, Jon-Luc turned to Claude. “Tell me about the security system.”
“It covers only the main house and needs to be updated. I told her so myself.”
“What about the guest quarters, the gate?”
Claude shrugged. "I suggested she do something about that, but she replied she had Demetrius and Michael living on the grounds.”
“I already don’t trust this Demetrius guy, and who the hell is Michael?”
“Some sort of assistant. He’s been with her about a year.”
“Whatever. Fat lot of good they did last night. I want to hire a few guys for security. Do you know any cops who need to make extra cash?”
“Whoa, what are you doing, my friend? I think you have lost some marbles, no? You just met this girl yesterday and today you are making love to her on a sofa? You move mighty fast, I think.”
“We were not making love, we simply kissed.”
“There was not anything simple about that kiss. From where I stood, you were in the throes of passion. Had we not come in when we did, who knows?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Anyway, I did not just meet her yesterday, we had met twice before. In fact I keep running into her.”
“Ah, so it is fate. I see.” Claude nodded his head.
“Call it what you will, but this is no ordinary woman.” Jon-Luc stared out the side window, but did not see the countryside flying by. Instead he saw Angie, scared and looking forlorn. It killed him to leave her in such a vulnerable state. He turned back toward Claude. “I want a man on the gate checking everyone who enters the property and two walking the grounds at all times. I will pay for it.”
“As you wish, my friend. I will make it happen.”
“Thank you, Claude.” Jon-Luc felt better, but not much. There had to be more he could do. “Do you have anyone interviewing this Michael and the other employees on the estate?”
“Yes, it is being taken care of.” Claude looked at him now, concern etched his features. “How is your head?”
“Fine." He absently rubbed the bump. "I’d forgotten all about it.”
“Do you think perhaps that is why you are acting so impulsively?”
“I’m just being careful.” Jon-Luc knew he sounded defensive, but couldn’t help it. Why was it that Claude didn’t understand? Hell, maybe he was acting a little crazy, but there was nothing he could do about it. Then he got an idea.
“Claude, turn around.”
“What?” Claude looked at him full on, his eyes wide.
“Turn around, we’re going back.”
“But the autopsy.”
“You can drop me off. Once I’m satisfied by the security there, I’ll take a cab back to the city.” Now that Jon-Luc had made his decision, he was determined to stand by it.
Claude pulled a U-turn. “I take it back, you have lost all of your marbles.”
Silence filled the car as they headed back to the château. Jon-Luc’s anxiety had eased since he'd come up with a plan. Once the car came to a complete stop, he stepped out. Before he closed the door, he bent down. “Call me with the names of the guys you’re sending over and let me know what you learn at the autopsy.”
“Very well.” Claude looked concerned, but there was nothing Jon-Luc could do about it.
He slammed the door and watched the car disappear down the long drive before climbing the stairs to the front stoop. The moment the door opened, he brushed past the maid before she could utter a word. “Where is Madame Beauchamp?”
The maid stared at him a moment, her mouth agape. Then she pointed toward the parlor.
“Thanks,” he said in passing. When he stepped into the room, he found the women huddled on the couch.
“Ladies.” Startled, their heads swiveled toward him in unison.
Angie’s eyebrows rose. “Jon-Luc?”
He stalked over to the fireplace, then turned back.
“Has something else happened?” Madame Beauchamp’s hand flew to her breast.
“Not yet, but I’m here to make sure it doesn’t. Madame Beauchamp-”
“Please call me Lissette.”
“Okay, Lissette, I don’t think either of you are taking this threat seriously.”
“That's where you are wrong. I take this matter very seriously. Someone has threatened a person I care about. I do not take kindly to that even one little bit,” Lissette said firmly.
“Great. Have you called your security company yet?”
“Well, no, we—”
“That’s what I thought. May I have the number?”
“Oh.” Then a beat later, she stood. “I guess that would be all right.” Lissette left the room.
“Jon-Luc, what are you doing?” Angie whispered.
“Trying to protect you.”
“Do you really think the killer is after me?”
“I don’t want to find out the hard way.”
Lissette returned carrying an address book. She sat on the edge of the couch and flipped through it until she found the page. “Here it is. But I don’t know how long it will take to get them out here.” She handed the book over to Jon-Luc.
“This is an emergency. I want them here immediately. If I need to, I'll have Claude call them directly. How far are you willing to go? I think you need a state-of-the-art system, with cameras and sensors covering the property as well as the windows and doors in the entire house.”
“Spare no expense. If that is what it takes to keep everyone here safe, then do it.”
“Good. I also think Angie should move into the main house with you. You should be working here as well, instead of the hotel, until the actual day of the show. Is that going to be a problem?”
“Not at all,” Liss
ette answered.
“Great. I’m also hiring some men for security.”
“Do you really think that’s necessary with all the cameras and sensors?” Angie asked.
“Yes. If someone breaches the perimeter, I want professionals here to deal with the intruder. You are way out here in the country. Who knows how long it would take the police to get here once they’re called. I’m not taking any chances.”
“Yes, of course, whatever you think.” Lissette sat back next to Angie and put her arm around her shoulder.
“And I want that gate closed at all times. Was it closed last night?”
“I cannot be certain. I guess I have gotten lax about security since my husband passed away. He was the one in charge of such things. But I will have the gate closed at once. Anything else?”
The woman appeared eager now, which relieved Jon-Luc. He wasn’t certain if he’d be met with resistance or not. He started to pace back and forth before them.
“I'll put a man on the gate until we have all the new security in place, then we can put him on the cameras. He’ll be able to buzz people in once he has eyes on them. The men will be off-duty policemen, so they’ll be armed and know how to handle a crisis.” Jon-Luc stopped in front of Lissette.
“I’m surprised your husband didn’t take care of this sooner. I mean, you have a large estate here, with some very impressive artwork. Isn't that a Gauguin in the entry?”
“Why, yes." She seemed pleased he'd noticed. "And that is a Monet.” She pointed above the fireplace. “My husband was quite the collector. The system we have has served us well over the years, but you are right. Times have changed. Even without this recent threat, we should have updated the security here a long time ago.
“The alarm company comes out every six months to test things and make certain it is running properly. I have had more than one inspector comment on my antiquated system. I am sorry I did not get around to it sooner. So please, do whatever you think is necessary. I truly appreciate having an expert handle this for me,” Lissette said with sincerity.
“I’ll get on it right away.” Jon-Luc took the address book from Lissette and called the company from his cell phone. He told them everything he needed and that he wanted the items installed immediately. The man he spoke with informed him they could get started today, but that some of the equipment was not readily available. He would need to place an order. The job would take a few days to complete.