The Complete Death Du Jour Mystery Collection

by Hillary Avis

  Bethany gasped. “He said he was going to sail around the world once Bella showed up to claim her half the inheritance!”

  “Or maybe to avoid being arrested,” Charley said grimly. “Now that she’s shown up, the inheritance is all his. I’ll have a uniform go down to the docks and make sure he doesn’t slip away overnight. We can go talk to him bright and early in the morning.”

  “We?”

  “Yeah—you’re coming with me. You’re the one that heard Simon say that he chased down Bella for her signature. I need you there so he doesn’t feel tempted to lie.”

  Chapter 16

  Thursday

  FISHING BOATS DOTTED the harbor and the docks were busy as the commercial vessels unloaded the morning’s catch. Bethany couldn’t help looking down Dock Five to see if she could spy Ryan’s sleek little boat in its slip. It was there, bobbing cheerfully in the wake of the trawlers that were trundling past. She didn’t have long to admire its warm wood hull before Charley hurried her to the dock where Simon’s larger, brilliant-white sailing yacht was moored.

  Simon spotted them from the deck and waved. “Come aboard!” he yelled down. He wore a nautical cap and had a navy blue scarf tied around his neck and looked every bit a sea captain.

  They crossed the gangplank and he greeted them with handshakes, although he was clearly distracted by his crew as they prepared the boat for its long journey.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” Charley said, “but—”

  “Then don’t.” Simon held up his hand. “I’ve got too much to do, and I’m not interested in rehashing every sad thing I already told you. Enough sadness. I need to get out on the water—it’s the only place where I can put all the ugliness behind me.”

  The only place where you won’t be put in jail for murder, you mean.

  Charley was taking a nicer tack. Her voice was all sugar. “I’m afraid I have a serious question for you, if you don’t mind.”

  Simon arched an eyebrow. “What if I do mind?”

  “Then I’m afraid you won’t be able to leave on your trip.” She smiled apologetically, as though someone else was making her do it.

  He sighed. “What is it?”

  Bethany bit back a smile. Charley sure knew when to use a carrot and when to use a stick when it came to questioning a suspect.

  Charley held up her hand to block the rising sun from her eyes. “Bella was killed only a few days after your father passed.”

  Simon stared at her for a few moments before responding. “That’s not a question.”

  “I found it interesting that somehow you got her signature on the sale paperwork six months later, when you sold the estate to the Lazams.” Charley smiled sweetly.

  Simon blinked rapidly, but his voice stayed cool. “That’s not a question, either.”

  “You knew she was dead!” Bethany blurted out. Charley elbowed her. “Sorry, Charley, but he did!”

  Simon lost his cool expression. He shook his head fervently. “I didn’t—I swear. I just couldn’t find her. I tried the convent where she was supposed to be—all the convents in Spain, actually. But when I couldn’t find her...” He shrugged helplessly.

  “So you admit that you forged her signature?” Charley asked.

  He nodded miserably. “Well, not exactly. I had someone else do it. But I put her share of the money aside for her in a trust—you can check! I wasn’t trying to steal from her, I just needed to seal the deal while the Lazams were interested in the property.”

  “You didn’t report her missing,” Bethany said. Charley elbowed her again, but she ignored it. “Normal people would report her missing if they couldn’t find her.”

  “I figured she was off flirting with an Italian viscount or something. It wasn’t my job to babysit her.” He rolled his eyes.

  Bethany snorted. “You were happy about it, right? Because it was to your advantage if she hooked up with someone, wasn’t it? Then you got all the money.”

  Simon smiled sardonically. “Right. First you think I killed her to get the inheritance. Now you think I wanted her to betray my father’s last wishes so I’d get the inheritance. You must have a terrible view of humanity, Ms.—”

  “Bradstreet,” Bethany finished for him. “I don’t have a terrible view of normal people. But normal people don’t inherit hundreds of millions of dollars, do they? And they don’t sail around—ow!”

  Charley elbowed her again, hard this time, and Bethany rubbed her side as Charley glared at her.

  “Please excuse my friend,” Charley said. “You were saying that someone else forged Bella’s signature?”

  Simon rubbed his chin. “I’d prefer not to get anyone else involved. I’ll pay the fine or whatever.”

  Bethany snorted. “Right. Money will solve everything.”

  “Sir, we need to talk to this person to verify your story,” Charley said briskly, ignoring Bethany’s outburst. “They won’t get in any trouble.”

  They won’t? Forgery, mummy-making...apparently all kinds of wacky stuff is legal in Newbridge.

  Simon hemmed and hawed. “Do you promise? It’d kill me to have him get in trouble for something I asked him to do.”

  Charley nodded, and Bethany held her breath.

  “When I couldn’t find Bella, Lucien agreed to help me forge her signature. He’s an artist himself, so he didn’t find it too hard to reproduce” Simon explained apologetically. “I knew she wouldn’t mind, if it meant she’d be getting a couple hundred mill.”

  Lucien, huh? He seems up for following all kinds of strange directives from his employers. Bethany pursed her lips disapprovingly. What kind of person didn’t mind committing fraud just because someone asked them to do it?

  Charley seemed to be thinking the same thing. “What did Lucien get out of the deal? Did you pay him?”

  Simon shook his head. “I think he was just helping me out. We’ve known each other for a long time.”

  There had to be something more...some reason Lucien would be so eager to help commit fraud. Bethany narrowed her eyes. “How did Lucien feel about Bella? Did they have a good relationship?”

  “Funny you should ask.” Simon chuckled humorlessly. It was clear he didn’t think it was funny at all. “Let’s just say that Bella had different priorities than Lucien.”

  Charley raised an eyebrow. “Which were...?”

  “Money,” he said simply. “After Dad died, Bella wanted to sell the Peregrine collection at auction. She knew it was worth the most that way.”

  “And Lucien wanted to keep it together,” Charley said slowly. “So when the opportunity to sell to the Lazams came up, he forged her signature because he knew the Lazams wouldn’t sell it off piecemeal.”

  “Plus they’d give him a job maintaining the paintings,” Bethany added.

  Simon nodded.

  “Thank you for your cooperation,” Charley said, and held out her hand to shake Simon’s. “You’ve been very helpful.”

  He looked at her hand, surprised. “Does this mean it’s over?”

  Charley barked a laugh. “Not quite. Don’t even think about leaving the marina until I verify your story with Lucien. I’m going to have a uniform stay to keep an eye on you.”

  Simon grumbled under his breath, muttering something about police overreach.

  Charley glared at him. “Stay put, or I’ll send the Coast Guard after you. Unless you’d prefer to wait down at the station?”

  Simon did not.

  Bethany grinned. Charley 1, Rich guy 0.

  As they walked back down the dock toward the car, Charley’s face was somber. Bethany was a little surprised, given the huge breakthrough in the case that they’d just achieved.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Charley shook her head like she was trying to clear her mind. “Nothing. I’m probably just overthinking things.”

  “What is it?”

  Charley didn’t say anything until they both got into the car and shut the doors. She adjusted the mirror and put on he
r seatbelt, but paused with the key in the ignition. “You know how Kimmy’s been so stressed about everything?”

  Bethany relaxed a little. This was about the wedding, not the murder investigation. “Yeah?”

  “Do you think that maybe deep down, she doesn’t want to get married? And that’s why she hates her dress and is so freaked out all the time?” Charley chewed her lower lip pensively.

  Bethany laughed. “She can’t wait to get married. Seriously—no cold feet. It’s just the usual wedding jitters.”

  Charley sighed with relief. “OK, good. Hearing about all the LaFontaine family drama made me worried Kimmy was going to completely bail on me, especially after she found out that the rest of my family is crashing the wedding.”

  “They’re not crashing; they were invited! It’s going to be fine. You’ll, see, once this murder is solved and Bella’s killer is in custody, you and Kimmy will both be able to relax and enjoy your wedding.”

  “If this murder is solved,” Charley reminded her as she started the car. “Do you have time to come with me or should I drop you at the café?”

  Bethany checked the time on the car’s dash. “I don’t have to meet Milo until noon, so I can go with you.”

  “Thanks. I’m not sure why, but I’d rather have company today.” Charley turned up the radio and they sang along to ’80s hits as they cruised up the highway to the LaFontaine estate. The music was still blasting when they pulled up in front of the main house.

  Bethany was surprised to see Ryan out front, standing next to a gray limousine—and even more surprised to see his father with him. Neither one of them looked happy. Ryan’s fists were clenched, and his father’s face was so red that it almost appeared purple. They were so embroiled in their argument that they didn’t even glance toward Charley’s car as it pulled up.

  Did Ryan break the news to his father about the construction delays? Or is he mad about the changes Ryan made in the direction of the museum’s collection? Bethany turned down the radio and cracked open the car door so she could catch the gist of their conversation.

  “I don’t care. The museum opens on schedule, or it doesn’t open at all.” Ryan’s father pointed to the ground to emphasize his words.

  Ryan tossed up his hands. “Don’t be unreasonable! That’s only two days away! It just can’t be done.”

  “Listen to me.” His father took a step toward him, and now he held his finger up between them—a threat. “I paid top dollar for this place. I paid top dollar for the world’s best art collection. I’ve spared no expense when it comes to the museum construction. There’s no reason this should be a day behind schedule, Ryan!”

  “The emerging artists’ gallery—” Ryan began, but Mr. Lazam cut him off.

  “I never approved the changes. Your new concept doesn’t exist as far as I’m concerned. Frankly, this is embarrassing. My own son can’t meet a simple deadline, even when I give him all the pieces he needs to succeed. A child could lead this project, Ryan. A little child.” He shook his head. “But you can’t.”

  “Eesh.” Charley made a noise in her throat. “Glad my dad doesn’t talk to me like that. Poor Ryan.”

  “Poor Ryan,” Bethany echoed, her gaze transfixed by the two men outside.

  “Just because I have different goals for the museum doesn’t mean—” Ryan made another valiant attempt to finish his sentence, but his father cut him off again, his voice bitter.

  “Yes, your goal is to keep half of a very expensive art collection in storage in favor of garbage art. Very nice. What am I going to say to my friends and investors when they visit the museum? Never mind that important Peregrine you wanted to see, here’s a pile of garbage my son bought and paid for?”

  “It won’t be garbage!” Ryan said hotly, his cheeks flaming. “It’s real—and it needs to be seen, especially by people like your friends.”

  “I’m finished with you,” his father hissed. “If the museum isn’t ready in time for the Halloween masquerade, we’re done. You’re no longer a Lazam.” He ducked into the back seat of the limousine and slammed the door shut. Within seconds, the limousine pulled out, narrowly missing Ryan as it sped down the gravel drive. Ryan hung his head.

  Bethany covered her mouth, horrified for him.

  Charley just shook her head. “That’s not right. You should go talk to him—I’ll give you a minute.”

  Bethany nodded and swallowed the lump in her throat as she got out of the car. Ryan heard her steps on the gravel and seemed to notice their presence for the first time. He tried to smile but only managed a miserable expression.

  “You didn’t hear...?”

  “I did,” she said, and enveloped him in a hug. “I’m so sorry. Are you OK?”

  He wrapped his arms around her and laid his head on top of hers. “I am now. I’m just sorry you had to see that.”

  She pulled back to gauge his expression, but his eyes were distant and unfocused, his mind presumably preoccupied by his father’s reaction. “Is he always like that?”

  His gaze pulled back to her and he smiled sadly. “Pretty much. Now you know why I was so reluctant to tell him about the delays.”

  “What are you going to do? Is there any way to finish the interior in the next two days?”

  He swallowed and shook his head. “Even if we could get the construction finished, which we can’t, we’d still have to hang all the art. Lucien has only restored about half of the Peregrines. And I haven’t acquired enough contemporary art to fill in the gaps—anyway, that might make my dad even angrier.”

  “But if you don’t open on time, won’t you lose everything? Your dad sounded ready to cut you off.”

  He nodded. “My best hope is to just hire as many workers as possible to finish the interior work, open the museum as my dad envisioned it, and hope all the guests at the masquerade are too drunk to notice that half the paintings are missing.” The corner of his mouth quirked up in a halfhearted smile.

  Ugh. He’s so brave to smile after his heart has basically been ripped out.

  “I’m sorry—I know you really wanted to include the emerging artists’ work. But a Peregrine museum is still really cool, Ryan. You have to be proud of what you’ve accomplished here even if it isn’t contemporary art.”

  He sighed, his eyes distant again. “It’s more than that, though. I never wanted to be a businessperson in the art world. That’s what Dad wants for me, but I am and always will be an artist first. I thought maybe I could do both, but now I see—I can’t. I can’t be an artist and be a Lazam. What should I do, Bethany?”

  “I don’t have advice for you.” She bit her lip. “You have to do what’s in your heart.”

  “Even if it means losing everything?” He asked, his eyes bright and reckless. “Even if it means being disowned?”

  “I’m sure he didn’t mean it. He’ll be angry, but he’ll forgive you eventually.” As Bethany said the words, she heard Charley finally get out of the car.

  Ryan laughed hollowly. “Oh, he meant it. He’s genuinely humiliated by me. And if I fail in front of everyone, he’ll happily kick me out of the family. He’d probably be glad to be rid of me. Maybe I should just walk away from this place now.” He kicked the gravel, sending a spray of little white rocks toward the bluestone steps of the front entrance.

  “Well, you have two days to figure it out,” Bethany said as Charley joined them. “Halloween is on Saturday. If you start today, can you get the construction done?”

  “Most of it. The important stuff, at least.” Ryan nodded. “I’ll have to pull all my guys off the conservatory, though.” He grimaced apologetically at Charley. Bethany’s stomach churned at the thought of more wedding roadblocks, but Charley just waved her hand.

  “Do what you have to do,” she said. “I can live with dirty windows at my wedding if it means your dad has to eat crow.”

  “I guess I have to decide what kind of surprise to give my father. I should talk to Lucien and see how many Peregrines are ready to
hang.”

  Bethany nodded. “Actually, we’re here to see Lucien, too.”

  “Really? Why? Is he in trouble because of the foot?”

  “I just need to confirm a story that Simon told me,” Charley explained. “No big deal.”

  Ryan nodded. “I’ll walk you up there.” He seemed to have recovered a little from his dad’s diatribe.

  Good. He didn’t deserve that.

  Bethany and Charley followed him up the stairs and down the hall to Lucien’s studio. Ryan rapped on the door with his knuckles and pushed it open.

  Startled by their entrance, Lucien jumped, knocking over a jar that held dozens of paintbrushes. It smashed to the floor, sending the brushes skittering across the floor in every direction.

  “Oh no! Oh, oh!” Lucien grabbed a few brushes from the floor and then, realizing most of them were intermixed with sharp shards of glass, held out his arms in warning. “Stay back, stay back. I don’t want anyone to get cut. Just hold on while I find a broom.” He started to head for the door, but Ryan stopped him.

  “I’ll just give Ernesto a buzz.” He pulled out his phone. “He can have someone bring one up.”

  “No!” Lucien nearly shouted. “Don’t do that!”

  Bethany stared at him. Why was he so opposed to calling Ernesto for help? It seemed like the logical thing to do in the circumstances.

  But Ryan was already placing the call. He finished quickly and hung up. “All taken care of. I’m sorry for the trouble—we didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

  “It’s fine.” Lucien didn’t look thrilled, though. In fact, he still looked flustered. “What do you need?”

  “I just have some questions for you,” Charley said. “They’ll only take a minute.”

  “Well, why don’t we move to another room? That way we can get out of this mess.” Lucien nudged a piece of the broken jar with his toe.