Murder at Le Bijou Bistro: Northwest Cozy Mystery Series (Northwest Cozy Mysteries Book 5)

by Dianne Harman

  Jules’ face softened, and his eyes dropped. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

  Jake spoke up. “Mr. Moreau, it’s come to our attention there’s been an ongoing feud between you and another restaurateur, Bertrand Christolhomme, the owner of Le Bijou Bistro. Is that correct?”

  Jules thought for a moment, and looked up at Jake. “I wouldn’t call it a feud, but more like a healthy rivalry. Passions run high in French culture.”

  “High enough for you to exact revenge on your rival by arranging for an incident to occur in his restaurant that would cause his business to fail?” Jake asked.

  Jules replied without hesitation. “I admit there may have been a time when a thought like that crossed my mind, but sometimes things happen for a reason.”

  “Would you like to explain that, Mr. Moreau?” Luke leaned in. “If you know of some reason why my fiancée should be murdered, I’d love to hear about it.”

  “You misunderstood me,” Jules said in an apologetic tone of voice. “I simply meant the result of my ongoing differences with Bertrand was that a reality television company contacted me after the Restaurant Awards event took place last week. They offered me a pilot show, which is what we’re in the middle of filming at the moment. If it’s a success, there’s a possibility the show could be extended to a full season. I think it’s obvious I don’t need to sabotage Le Bijou Bistro to achieve my goals. This opportunity is bigger than I ever could have dreamed of.”

  Jake glanced at Luke, who nodded. They’d heard enough. Moreau wasn’t their man. He was too interested in being the next star of reality television to have been involved in Megan’s death.

  “We won’t take up any more of your time, Mr. Moreau,” Luke said, standing up. “Thanks for talking to us. We’ll see ourselves out.”

  They made their way through the cameras and lights in silence.

  “What’s next?” Luke asked, as they walked out into the street. Jake blinked his eyes several times to adjust to the daylight.

  “I think it’s time to visit Jessica Simmons,” Jake said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Let me just take this incoming call.”

  He listened to DeeDee in silence, his face turning grim. “Keep me posted,” he said, striding in the direction of the car.

  “Jake, is everything all right?” Luke asked, struggling to keep up with him.

  Jake shook his head. “My friend’s daughter has been kidnapped. If we don’t find her soon, we could be looking at another homicide.”

  Luke stopped and grabbed Jake’s arm. “I think it’s time you told me more about these friends of yours, and exactly what’s going on.”

  Jake pressed the key fob he was holding in his hand, opening the doors of Luke’ car. “I think you’re right. Get in, and I’ll tell you everything on the way to Jessica’s.”

  CHAPTER 15

  Briana Roberts felt around in the darkness of the room where she’d woken up earlier, trying to get a sense of where she was and how she’d gotten there. Her hands were tied behind her back, making everything more difficult. Right now all she wanted was some water and to get rid of the nylon cord that was binding and chafing her wrists. She’d wrestled with it trying to get it off, but all she’d managed to do was pull the knot even tighter.

  From what she could tell, she was in a basement or storage room of some kind. The only light came from a small window near the ceiling, which was open an inch or two. Even if she could climb up there, it was too small for anything bigger than a cat to squeeze through, plus she wouldn’t have the use of her hands. She walked around in the semi-darkness bumping into taped-up boxes, and other household items. She’d already tripped over a bucket and the mop that was next to it.

  The damp air and musty smell of mold was causing her to have trouble catching her breath. Although she hadn’t had an incident in years, she was terrified her childhood asthma might be threatening to make a reappearance. She had no inhaler, and she could feel her panic beginning to rise. Briana edged her way along one of the walls in the room, past the locked door she’d banged her feet against for what seemed like hours, and then found her way back to the chair she’d been sitting on when she came to, her head throbbing. She remembered having been hit on the back of her head, but by whom, or by what, she had no idea.

  Crouching down and feeling for the seat of the chair, she eased herself down slowly to avoid landing on her behind on the cold concrete floor. If she knocked the chair over, there was no way for her to pick it back up again. Tears of tiredness, frustration, and pain rolled down her cheeks when she finally was able to sit down on the wobbly seat.

  Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Briana, the voice in her head told her. There’s no time for tears. You’re the only one who can help you, because no one knows where you are.

  Initially, she’d congratulated herself on her ingenuity for being able to make a call to her mom. First came the initial feat of fishing her cell phone out of the back pocket of her pants, which took quite a bit of dexterity and tenacity. Then she’d lain down on the floor, and as gently as she could, put the phone down so it didn’t break. She’d been able to unlock the phone by using her thumbprint, but making a call was another matter, since she couldn’t see the screen if she held it in her hands behind her back.

  She’d kicked off one Nike shoe and wriggled off her sock, so she could press the screen with her big toe, holding the phone in place with her other foot. The light from the phone showed that there was barely any battery power left and minimal network reception. Numerous attempts to call her mother failed, until she finally got a signal just long enough to tell Cassie she’d been kidnapped before the line went dead.

  Briana tried to figure out what day it was. She was fairly certain she’d only been wherever she was for one night. The day before, Thursday, was when she had started thinking something weird was happening, like perhaps she was being followed.

  She’d had a meeting in the morning at the Waterfront Palace with Ms. Knight, a friend of the developer, Mario Carlucci. Briana remembered thinking how nice the woman was, and how pretty she was for her age.

  “Just call me Kitty,” Ms. Knight had told her when she arrived holding a cup of Starbucks coffee. The two of them had bonded over fabric swatches, quartz countertops, and light fixtures from the best stores in town. Kitty had ooh’d and ahh’d over Briana’s selections, and loved Briana’s idea of opening up the walk-in closet with an entrance to the second bath. Briana felt her life would be a lot easier if all her clients were like Kitty.

  “Would you like me to order these?” Briana asked, when they were finished looking at the different samples. Kitty had great taste, and cost didn’t seem to be an issue.

  Kitty simply laughed. “I’d better give the good news to your boss first. Is Mr. Carlucci around?”

  “He was on site earlier,” Briana said, “but I think he went back to his office. Would you like me to let him know you were here? I didn’t know that you two were friends, or I would have mentioned you were coming in when I saw him this morning.”

  “That’s okay,” Kitty said. “I just might surprise him later. Please, don’t say a word.” She gave Briana a conspiratory wink.

  “Certainly,” Briana said, smiling, as she put her samples away. There was obviously something going on between Ms. Knight and her boss, and she decided she was probably better off staying out of it.

  When Briana went into the office to drop off the samples after the meeting, Mr. Carlucci wasn’t there. She decided she’d worked long enough and it was time for her daily run. After she’d changed into her running clothes, she stuck her head through the sales manager’s door and said, “I’m going out for a run, Sam. I don’t have any appointments for the rest of the afternoon, but I’ll probably check back in later.”

  Sam had barely looked up from his spreadsheets. “Sure, take your time,” he said, waving her away. Thinking back on it, Briana wondered if the conversation had even registered with him.

  She took her
usual route along the waterfront, but something felt off. She looked around a few times, unable to shake the bad feeling she had. As far as she could see, the rest of the world was going about its business in a very normal fashion.

  That was when she realized what was probably bugging her. She felt bad about having deliberately missed her mother’s birthday the day before. Although she was still mad at Cassie for getting married so soon after her father’s murder, the truth was she missed her. They’d always had a very close relationship. Briana had stopped to get a juice drink and called Cassie, but no one had answered. She’d laughed thinking that her mother probably had turned off her phone and forgotten to turn it back on.

  The last thing Briana remembered was returning to her office by way of the basement parking garage entrance and hearing footsteps coming up fast from behind her. Her heart was pounding, and she realized she was in danger. She pressed redial on her phone to call her mom for help and again, there was no answer. She jammed her phone into the back pocket of her jogging shorts and ran for the elevator, but she could still hear the footsteps behind her, and they were rapidly gaining on her. She was afraid to turn around, so she never saw the object that hit her head before she fell to the floor, unconscious.

  And now, here she was, goodness knows where, with no means of escape. To make matters worse, she had no water. She’d read that people couldn’t live very long without water.

  A sound from above broke into her thoughts. Her eyes flickered from side to side in the darkness. There it was again, the sound of a door being opened and shut. She heard someone walking around. Briana jumped up and started to kick her feet against the door, yelling at the top of her lungs.

  “Help, please, help me. I’m down here.” Her breathing was erratic, and her voice was hoarse.

  She stopped yelling and listened as the sound of footsteps got closer. The footsteps seemed to be coming from a stairway that led to where she was being held captive. She heard a key turning in the lock, and the door in front of her swung open.

  For a moment there was silence, then Briana gasped when she saw the person standing in front of her. “What on earth are you doing here?” she blurted out.

  CHAPTER 16

  When they were outside The Seattle Times building, and after she’d called Jake to tell him Briana had been kidnapped, DeeDee took control of the situation. “Cassie, do you have a key for Briana’s apartment?”

  Cassie nodded. “Yes, it’s back at the hotel.”

  “I think we should get it,” DeeDee said. “Maybe there’s something at Briana’s place that might give us a clue as to where she is. In the meantime, keep trying to call her. Harry, we need you to take us to Cassie’s hotel right now.”

  Harry nodded, holding an arm out to shield Cassie from the throng of shoppers and office workers in the crowded street as they went to the car. They didn’t have far to go to get to The Four Seasons, but the Friday traffic would have made the short trip a crawl if it wasn’t for Harry’s driving prowess. DeeDee marveled at how he squeezed the town car through spaces she would have thought were impossible, even for a much smaller car, like a Mini. She gripped the edge of the leather seat as the car raced through a red light, narrowly missing a little old lady who had just stepped into the crosswalk, and then screeched around a corner ricocheting off a parked car.

  “Harry drives like Al,” she said in a low voice to Cassie, who had Briana on constant redial, but with no success.

  “They must have gone to the same getaway driver school,” Cassie said with a faint smile.

  When she looked up, DeeDee saw Harry’s cold eyes looking back at hers in the rear view mirror. She quickly looked out the window, deciding to keep quiet until they reached their destination. Apparently, Harry didn’t share Al’s sense of humor.

  Harry left the engine running when he pulled into the valet parking area at the hotel. He opened the door for Cassie, and the two of them hurried inside. “I’ll wait here,” DeeDee mumbled to no one, alone in the empty car. While they were gone, she called her client to postpone their afternoon appointment as well as her sister, Roz, to postpone their lunch date.

  “Hey, sis,” she said, when Roz picked up the call. “I’m really sorry, but something urgent has come up. Can I take a rain check on this afternoon?”

  “Fine,” Roz said with a pretend sigh. “You caught me just before I was leaving to meet you. I’ll forgive you, but only on one condition.”

  “Name it,” DeeDee said, seeing Cassie’s figure appear in the revolving front door of the hotel.

  “Lunch is on you next time.” Roz giggled. “And I’m warning you, my appetite is huge. I’m eating for two, remember?”

  DeeDee smiled. “I remember, and I can’t wait to see you and the sonogram pictures.” Cassie and Harry were racing toward the car. “Um, Roz, I really have to go now, sorry.”

  “Wait, DeeDee, what’s going on? I know that tone of voice.” Roz let out an exaggerated groan. “Not again. You’re not mixed up in another murder, are you?”

  Cassie jumped into the car and shut the door. She looked at DeeDee and raised her eyebrows.

  “Bye, Roz, I’ll call you as soon as I can. I promise.” DeeDee ended the call despite the sound of Roz’s loud protests, and turned back to Cassie. “Were you able to get it?”

  “Yes.” Some color had returned to Cassie’s cheeks, which may have been the result of her recent run. Harry slammed his door, and once again the car raced off. “I spoke to Al. He’s going to meet us at Briana’s apartment,” Cassie said, impatiently tapping her fingers on the seat.

  Harry worked his magic once more, weaving through the traffic like a grand prix driver. At one point, when they came to a standstill, he gently rear-ended the vehicle in front of them, moving it far enough ahead to create a space that allowed their car to enter the bus lane, where it zoomed past the regular traffic.

  “I think it’s better if we don’t talk about traffic violations right now,” DeeDee murmured to Cassie, who she could see was in the process of leaning forward to tap Harry’s shoulder in protest. “I know you’re an advocate for civic duty and responsibility, but we need to get there as quickly as possible, right?”

  Cassie, a regular animal rights campaigner, dog rescue center volunteer, and all-around do-gooder, paused for a moment. “Okay,” she said, sitting back again. “I can’t say I approve, but since it’s definitely an emergency, I guess anything goes.” She raised her voice again, so Harry could hear her. “You may as well step on it, Harry.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Harry said with a grin. Those were the first words DeeDee had heard him speak. He hit the gas, and DeeDee closed her eyes for the rest of the trip, which was accented with car horns blaring as Harry cut in front of other drivers. At one point, she hoped the nearby sirens she heard had nothing to do with them.

  When the car finally came to a stop, DeeDee opened one eye, and saw Al pacing outside the apartment building. Cassie had already flung her door open and went running towards Al, who pulled her into a tight embrace. By the time DeeDee got out, Al and Cassie were headed inside, and DeeDee had to hurry to catch up.

  They took the elevator to the second floor, where two doors opened onto a small, central hallway. “It’s 2B,” Cassie said, pointing to the second door. Al had it open within seconds, and they stepped inside a deceptively spacious apartment with a bright, airy living room, a kitchen area off to the side, and a hallway leading to what DeeDee assumed was the bedroom and bathroom. Briana’s home was decorated in a Scandinavian style—white walls and pale blond wooden flooring, with a plush cream wool rug and contrasting blush colored throws and neutral pillows. The focal point of the living area, a giant abstract ocean painting, took DeeDee’s breath away. The blues and grays covered the spectrum of angry to serene, and pulled her in. She looked at the name of the artist. It wasn’t one she recognized, nor did she consider it an appropriate time to ask Cassie if she knew where Briana had acquired it.

  “What are we looking
for?” Cassie asked as she lifted a black hard-bound appointment book from the small dining room table in the corner.

  “Anythin’ at all,” Al said. “We’ll know when we find it. Looks like whoever was tryin’ to kill Cassie decided to go after Briana when their plan backfired. Poor Megan Reilly was murdered fer nothin’. We need to talk to Briana’s friends and the people she worked with to figure out who saw her last, and when and where. Heck, I don’t care if it’s the local barista, Ima gonna’ go through every name in that book and call every last contact we can think of til’ we trace her.” His eyes shone with sincerity and hope. “So don’tcha worry, Cassie, okay?”

  Cassie nodded. “Here you go,” she said, handing the appointment book to Al. “I’m going to start with her personal effects in the bedroom, and you and DeeDee can cover this room.” She glanced around. “Those papers on the table look like they could be work-related.”

  DeeDee sat at the table, and started in on the pile of paperwork. There were invoices, letters from suppliers, bank statements, but nothing that struck her as out of the ordinary for a young self-employed woman in her twenties.

  Al, who was on the sofa reading Briana’s appointment book, suddenly sat bolt upright. “Cassie,” he said in a loud voice, “where did you say Briana was working at the moment?”

  Cassie appeared at the end of the hallway. “I didn’t. She usually had a couple of design projects going on at the same time, but the last time I talked to her about her business, she mentioned she had a big one somewhere on the waterfront. To tell the truth, I didn’t pay much attention to it. That was several weeks ago. She’s been avoiding me, as you know.”

  “Ima gonna’ kill him,” Al growled, standing up and balling one hand into a fist. “That dirty, no-good, son-of-a-gun Carlucci. I shoulda’ known he was capable of doin’ somethin’ like this, and now it’s too late for me to kick his sorry behind outta shape. I coulda’ finished him off years ago, but I always felt sorry for the dumb loser after he lost his girl.”