by Agatha Frost
“It is better to not ask questions,” he said, pushing the sunglasses into the inside pocket of his leather jacket, revealing a gun holster clipped to his belt. “Behave, and you will be fine.”
He left, securing all the locks behind him. When the deadbolt slid across, Dot got the impression they’d be left alone until the morning, which steadied her nerves.
“Do you suppose it’s poisoned?” Percy asked, biting into his lip as he hovered by the food. “I am rather hungry.”
“I don’t think so,” Dot said as she checked the bag he’d left by the door. “He’s given us changes of clothes. I don’t think he’s trying to kill us.”
“Why would he bring us here then?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted, “but don’t you get the feeling we’re dealing with the monkey and not the angle grinder?”
“Do you mean ‘organ grinder’, dear?”
“I’m sure it’s angle grinder.”
“Right you are.”
Percy folded thinly sliced ham and crammed it into his mouth while he buttered slices of bread. Hoping he’d butter her a few slices to make a sandwich, Dot checked the bedroom.
It had two single beds like they had at their cottage in Peridale and some furniture for storing clothes. The curtains had already been closed but peeking through offered nothing but more darkness.
“Shame,” she whispered, “I bet the view is spectacular from up here.”
Deciding she’d take the bed farthest from the door, which was the one she had at home in Peridale, she tested the mattress. Firm, just how she liked it. She checked the bedside drawer, surprised to see two items. One was a Bible, which wasn’t much use to them now. The other, a sealed pack of cards, made her smile.
“Surprisingly,” she mused, shuffling the cards as she returned to the main area, “I’ve stayed in worse places.”
“As have I.” Percy handed her a plate with two ham and cheese sandwiches. “But it’s not exactly the honeymoon we wanted, is it?”
Dot pulled out a chair at the table and sat down with her food. Before tucking in, she finished shuffling the cards and dealt their hands.
“While not the honeymoon we envisioned, it’s the honeymoon we’ve got.” She nodded for Percy to join her at the table. “What do you say about a quick game of poker before bed, Percival?”
“Dorothy,” he said through a yawn as he took the seat across from her, “I’d like that very much.”
7
JULIA
Soon after the police arrived, the local doctor showed up. Barker had caught Julia before she hit the ground and, according to him, she’d been unconscious for only ten seconds at the most.
Still, for the sake of the baby, everyone agreed it was best to have the doctor check her over. The tests were quick. The doctor concluded that the shock of the news must have triggered a drop in blood pressure, which could cause anyone to faint but was more common in pregnant women. Since Julia had no pain, he gave her something to help her sleep and left almost as quickly as he’d come.
After talking with the local police officers and answering their confusing and repetitive questions until close to midnight, Julia and Barker finally went up to bed. Neither said much. With the help of her phone, she translated the box the doctor had given her. They were standard sleeping pills like those she could buy over the counter anywhere back home. More importantly, they were safe for pregnant women to take within the recommended doses. She tossed back two and let them drag her off to sleep.
The next morning, she woke with the sun. Like the day before, she rolled over the cuddle up to Barker but found only fresh air and cold sheets. She sat up in bed, hair matted and wild, and looked around. Barker sat on the balcony, his mobile phone pressed to his ear. She didn’t remember what had happened until she heard his side of the phone call.
“Dammit!” Barker cried after slamming his phone down on the table, still set for the romantic dinner they never had. The word echoed back from the valley. He rushed in as soon as he noticed that she was awake. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine,” she replied, rubbing at her tired eyes, a far cry from how rested she’d felt only the day before. “Groggy. Any news?”
“None.” Barker dug through his suitcase and pulled a fresh t-shirt from the selection Julia had packed for him. “I called DI Christie back in Peridale, but until it gets escalated to Interpol, it’s a job for the Spanish police, and the Spanish police only. His hands are tied. Which, of course, I knew. I just hoped . . .” Barker grimaced. “He told me to behave myself and do what they tell me. Can you believe that?”
Julia bolted upright as Barker’s words sank in. She jumped out of bed and dressed quickly before digging in her bag for her phone.
“I haven’t told the family,” she said, scrolling through her contacts, wondering who to call first. “If Christie knows, it will be all over the village before everyone’s finished their breakfast. They can’t find out like that.”
The night before, the police had told them to keep the information quiet so as not to startle the kidnappers into overreacting. They suggested that the kidnappers would most likely have eyes on the hotel. From now on, they said, they would send plainclothes officers to deal with the case. While the ransom note hadn’t told them not to contact the police, the authorities were always cautious when it came to situations like this one.
First, Julia called her father. Dot’s only son needed to know what was going on. After he got over the shock and asked all the questions she didn’t have the answers to, she called Sue and repeated the process. Finally, she called Jessie.
“Kidnapped?” Jessie started laughing. “Nice one, Mum. How’s the holiday going?”
Jessie’s laughter stopped when Julia didn’t join in. Once again, she was inundated with the same unanswerable questions. Jessie insisted on coming over to help, but Julia told her to stay where she was and carry on as normally as she could. By the time the café opened, likely everyone in the village would know, and they’d need somewhere to congregate to theorise and bask in the shock. With or without her, there was no better place for that than Julia’s café.
They took the lift to the ground floor, and like yesterday, found Minnie seated for breakfast. Today, instead of Dot and Percy slathering jam and butter on toast, she sat with two men Julia hadn’t seen before. One had a full head of greying hair, a square jaw, and a sharp suit. He brought a slightly aged James Bond to mind, and Julia assumed he must be the inspector the police had promised would arrive for more questioning. The other was younger, somewhere in his thirties, with dark hair and tanned skin.
“Thank you, Mrs Harlow,” the older man said, his accent surprisingly British. “I think you’ve given me a lot to work with. I’ll see myself out.”
“Inspector?” Julia rushed over before he could leave the dining room. She held out her hand. “My name is Julia. I’m Dot’s granddaughter. Is there any news?”
The inspector quickly looked her up and down, his eyes landing on the bump under her green maxi dress. For some reason, this detail seemed to irritate him, and he hesitated before accepting her handshake.
“Inspector George Hillard,” he replied, giving her a tight smile. “This is Sub-Inspector Lorenzo Castro.” The younger man offered her the same tight smile. “I’m afraid there’s nothing as of yet, but I assure you, we’re working on the case as best we can. Ransom cases aren’t straightforward, as I’m sure you can appreciate.” He tried to step around her, but Julia matched him move for move. “If you’ll excuse me, I really must get on.”
“Don’t you want to question us?” she asked. “To find out more?”
“That’s not necessary.” He stepped again, and she followed like they were engaged in a very unpleasant dance. “I suggest you try to enjoy your holiday. We will do everything we can to return your grandparents safe and sound.”
His suggestion shocked her so much she didn’t move along with him the next time he tried to step around her. Wi
thout a second look, the two inspectors left the hotel, hopped up the steps, and jumped into a car.
“What did you tell him, Minnie?” Julia asked, taking the seat next to her great-aunt. “Do you know anything?”
“He asked so many questions,” Minnie replied, her brows scrunched up as though she didn’t want to talk about it a moment longer. “Why does he think I know anything? I’m not responsible for this.”
“No one is saying you are.” Julia ducked to meet Minnie’s gaze, but it didn’t stay still long enough. “What questions did he ask you?”
“This and that.” She wafted her hand. “You know.”
“Minnie.” Julia lunged forward and clutched her great-aunt’s round face between her palms, forcing her to meet her eyes. “We don’t know each other all that well, and you haven’t seen my gran for forty years, but she’s one of the most important people in my life. I need you to tell me what you told the inspector.”
With her cheeks squashed between Julia’s hands, Minnie nodded, her eyes wide and focused. Content that she wouldn’t flee, Julia let go and sat back in her seat. Firm as they’d been, Julia couldn’t feel any remorse for the actions she’d taken to snap Minnie out of her delirious daze.
“He wanted to know if I had any enemies,” she started, frowning. “Silly, don’t you think? Me? Enemies? The only person I ever considered an enemy was Jessica Lange, and that’s only because we were both up for the King Kong role and she knew it should have been mine.”
“Is Jessica Lange currently in Savega?”
“I suspect not.” Minnie thought about it for a moment. “I suppose she’s in a nice big mansion in the Hollywood Hills, just where I’d be if she hadn’t stolen my role. And let me tell you another—”
“Minnie,” Julia interrupted resolutely. “Focus. What did you tell him? Do you think anyone you know could have done this?”
Minnie traced her finger around the edge of her plate, mopping up the toast crumbs scattered there. Julia didn’t know how she could eat since she didn’t feel hungry in the slightest.
“I could only think of Arlo Garcia.”
“Who’s Arlo Garcia?” Barker asked, taking the seat opposite Julia.
“He used to work here,” Lisa explained as she emerged from the kitchen and began clearing the table. Evidently, the inspectors had also helped themselves to the breakfast buffet. “He was the chef here for nearly a decade. Mum fired him last month.”
“And I was well within my rights!” Minnie cried, banging her fist on the table. “He was stealing from me. Caught red-handed! Things are tight enough as it is without a thief in our midst.” She inhaled deeply. “And it all worked out for the best, didn’t it, Lisa? We don’t need him. You’re just as good a cook as he was. Your paella might not be up to Arlo’s standard, but you’ll get there.”
Julia pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled. If Lisa was bothered by her mother’s put-down, she didn’t show it, vanishing with the dirty plates as quickly as she’d arrived.
“Where might we speak to this Arlo?” Barker asked, leaning across the table to take Julia’s hands in his. “Is he local?”
Minnie nodded. “He lives right here in Savega. He works in Chocolatería Valor, in the plaza. It’s one of the few old places that has survived in Savega since before I moved here. I warned Danilo not to hire him.”
Julia couldn’t listen to any more of the chattering. She stood, almost knocking her chair over in the process. Barker rose, taking her arm to steady her before she could flee.
“Breakfast first,” he pleaded, squeezing her shoulder. “Making yourself ill is the last thing your gran would want, all things considered.”
Julia’s hand fluttered over her rounded belly, and she didn’t need to be told twice. Some of the tension left her, and she sank down into her chair again. She’d been so careful to do everything textbook-correct during her pregnancy, but she hadn’t given her condition a second thought since the letter arrived. Resting her hand on her bump, Julia offered the baby a mental apology. Barker was right. Her gran wouldn’t want her to rush out on an empty stomach. And she certainly wouldn’t want Julia forgetting to nourish her great-grandchild.
Minnie slipped away, leaving them to eat their breakfast in peace. Barker opted for fruit salad with his black coffee, but Julia went for the meat and cheese platter. She needed something substantial after missing dinner because of last night’s chaos.
She washed her breakfast down with a small cup of peppermint tea and felt instantly better with food in her belly.
“We should have gone with them yesterday,” Julia said, guilt colouring her voice. “If we had, this wouldn’t have happened.”
“You can’t blame yourself.” Barker wiped a tear from her cheek; she hadn’t realised she was crying. “I spent the morning trying to figure out if we could somehow afford the ransom. Even with my savings and your savings, it’s barely a quarter of the way there, which means we need to focus on other tactics.” He stood. “C’mon, let’s check out the fired chef. It’s as good a place as any to get a start.”
Finding Chocolatería Valor in the plaza wasn’t difficult, though the streets looked different on foot. She hardly noticed anything else around them, zeroing in on the shop’s sign. Right now, she only cared about finding Arlo Garcia, their only lead.
“Do you want me to take this one?” Barker asked.
Julia was about to dismiss her husband’s suggestion, but she looked down at her bump. She nodded. Her internal panicking might be wholly warranted, but she didn’t want the ‘hysterical pregnant woman’ stereotype to prevent them from getting useful information.
On any other day, stepping into Chocolatería Valor would have been like stepping into a dream. It was a chocolate shop-café-bar hybrid, with more mouth-watering chocolate creations in the counter display cases than Julia could count. If – when – this all blew over, she would return and taste everything.
“Arlo Garcia?” Barker asked the young woman behind the counter.
She nodded her chin up to the quiet second floor where a man in his mid-to-late thirties was clearing a table. They climbed the spiralling staircase, and Julia was glad to see they were alone.
“Arlo?” Barker asked, surprising Julia by pulling one of his recently printed business cards from his wallet. “Barker Brown. I’m a private investigator looking into a recent kidnapping and ransom situation. Is this something you’ve heard about?”
“Yes?” he replied, arching a brow at the thick, black card with embossed gold lettering. Julia had suggested something subtler, but she’d been overruled. “Everyone is talking about this. Two old people, right?”
Proof there were gossips everywhere, Julia thought, and not just in Peridale.
“That’s correct.” Barker motioned for Arlo to sit down. “I understand you used to work at La Casa hotel not too from here?”
“That is correct,” he replied, sitting.
“The people who were taken were guests of—”
“Minnie Harlow,” he cut in. “Yes, I know. I know why you’re here also. Minnie says I ‘stole’ from her, and this is why she fired me. But you have been putting two and two together and getting five.” Arlo looked down at the card and tossed it onto the table. “I am sorry, Mr Brown, I cannot help you. I do not know anything about this.”
“When you say ‘stole’,” Barker said, copying Arlo’s air quotes, “I assume you refute the allegations?”
“Yes, I do.” He arched a brow, clearly growing irritated. “I was . . . how do you say? Stitched up? Framed? Minnie wanted a reason to cut costs, so she did this. There is no proof, but she fired me anyway. For ten years I work as a chef for that woman, and now I am waiting the tables and scrubbing floors.”
“So, Minnie has been having money troubles?” Barker asked before glancing up at Julia, who was too nervous to sit. “Do you have any proof of that?”
Arlo shook his head. He stood and continued gathering plates and cups.
&nbs
p; “You want proof, you must talk to Gabriel Caron,” he said, picking up the tray. “He runs the Eiffel restaurant. It is in this plaza. He gave Minnie money to keep her hotel running and she does not pay him back.”
“What does Gabriel look like?” Barker asked, jotting the name down on his phone.
“You will know him,” Arlo replied with a roll of his eyes. “He is French.”
Arlo descended the spiralling staircase, leaving them alone upstairs. Julia wasn’t surprised to hear about the money issues after what Lisa had said, but she hadn’t considered them in this context.
“Let’s go,” Julia said. “Arlo said Gabriel works in a restaurant in the plaza. There’s no time like the present.”
Barker didn’t argue. He seemed to be following a similar train of thought. It was nice to be on the same page regarding an investigation for once. DI Barker Brown wouldn’t have played so loose, but Barker Brown, PI didn’t have superiors to answer to. Julia liked that.
They left Chocolatería Valor and found Eiffel immediately. Three-storeys tall and obviously French-themed, it stuck out like a sore thumb in the traditionally Spanish plaza. This seemed to work in the restaurant’s favour since it was the busiest restaurant in view.
Before they reached the restaurant, a man stormed out who fit Arlo’s brief and condescending description of Gabriel. In a sea of Spaniards and tourists, the man in his fifties with shaggy dark hair and matching goatee stuck out just as much as his restaurant did. A cigarette dangled from his lips, and his tight-fitting outfit was effortlessly stylish.
Cigarette still in his mouth, he jumped into a red, vintage, convertible sports car, stuck on a pair of black sunglasses, and pulled into the plaza, his decorative silk scarf fluttering behind him. He honked his horn and shouted in French at slow tourists until he cleared a path out. Right before the red car vanished from view, Julia noticed his licence plate: CAR0N1.
“Barker, how serious are you about helping find my gran and Percy?” Julia asked, unable to take her eyes away from where the car had just been.