Voodoo, Lies, and Murder (13 page)

"I don't know yet."

"God, if she'd just told us she was pregnant we would've given her the emotional support she needed. Why just run off without telling us? It's completely out of character."

"I don't think she did run off. She didn't take any real amount of money from her bank account, she left a lot of clothes both at your house and her apartment, and her passport wasn't missing. Liza was working on a big story at the time she disappeared. I think Chantal managed to find out what it was about, and because of that, she's gone missing, too. Somehow, I think it relates to these two clinics. And there's more."

He glanced up.

"Chantal was seen at Marie's house recently. And Marie's son, Andrew Scott, is a doctor who works at the Second Chance Clinic."

"Shit." He rubbed his hands over his face. "Marie is bad news. She's evil. Nicole will be devastated when she finds out Marie has seen Chantal. Nicole always wanted to protect Chantal from the bad side of voodoo. Nicole hasn't spoken to Marie since she found out she was using her powers for vicious things instead of helping people. I've never met Andrew. I didn't even know he was a doctor." A pained expression settled on his face. "Do you think they've done something to Chantal and Liza?"

"I'm pretty sure they're involved somehow, and I'm going to do everything I can to find out."

He nodded slowly, eyes barely registering what I'd said.

I stood up. "I need to ask the staff some questions. Is that okay?"

He regained his composure and stood. "Of course. Let me introduce you to my business partner, Elliot, first. And then you're welcome to question the rest of the staff."

I followed James out of the office and along the corridor. Farther down, another door opened and a man came out. "Ah, James, I was just coming to see you. I need a quick chat about one of the contractors on the City Park project."

"Elliot, I'd like you to meet Amber Fox. She's investigating Chantal's disappearance."

Elliot was in his early forties, and good looking—if you liked the polished, immaculate look. Perfectly gelled hair, manicured nails, eyebrows that were just too tidy to be natural. Wax or tweezers, I wondered? I was leaning more toward wax. The only thing detracting from his flawless appearance was the puffiness under his eyes. Allergies? A cold? Or tears?

Elliot shook my hand. "Please have a seat in my office." He motioned to the door behind him. "I'll be there in a moment."

James and Elliot walked toward James's office.

I entered Elliot's office, which was much the same as James's, including the model of City Park. Leaning over his desk, which was scattered with handwritten notes and plans, I perused the plans for City Park, then wandered over to the model of the complex in the center of the room and walked around it. It even had little model people in the communal garden of the site, sunbathing and walking their dogs. It was an impressive site, but one that had no place in a residential area of historical properties. The existing properties would lose their light and privacy—not to mention their road would be chock-a-block with cars and noise from City Park. This kind of development would be much more at home on the outskirts of town. No wonder Alfie and Co. weren't happy about it.

I was peering closer at the model when my brain suddenly registered something I'd seen on Elliot's desk.

I rushed back to check, grabbing a handwritten memo that was written to the office supplies department from Elliot, studying it intensely. I pulled out a copy of the love letter to Chantal from my rucksack and compared the writing. It was a match. I quickly replaced the memo where I'd found it.

One mystery solved. How many more to go?

Well, well, well. Elliot had slept with Chantal. Did he know she was pregnant? Was Elliot married? And, even more important, was there a reason he would want Chantal to disappear?

Elliot's return interrupted my thoughts. "We're all desperate to find Chantal," he said as he sat down. "I wish I knew something that might help you find her."

"Cut the crap." I verbally pounced on him. Chantal's life could be at stake here, and I was getting pissed off with people hiding stuff and lying to me. Plus, I was having severe chocolate withdrawal, which was about as much fun as a root-canal treatment. The things a girl has to go through to make sure she looks good on her wedding day! "You slept with Chantal. You were in love with her. You've obviously hidden that fact from James and Nicole. What else are you hiding?"

Elliot's jaw dropped open. "How…how did you know?"

I took the letter out again and read it out loud. "'Chantal, I am extremely sorry you won't return my calls. That night was never a mistake for me, you have to believe me. I've loved you for a long time, and I will continue to love you, no matter what. I promise I will not pressure you into anything. I am here for you when you need me. Lovingly yours. Big kiss.'" I looked up to see his reaction. "So, what happened, Elliot? You took advantage of her when she was vulnerable because of her depression about Liza's disappearance? Or wouldn't you take no for an answer when she didn't want to see you anymore? You were obsessed with her, weren't you? Did you think if you couldn't have her then you'd make sure no one else could, either? Where is she?" I bombarded him with questions, hoping to rattle him.

His skin had turned the color of a clammy piece of cod. He flopped forward, hands covering his face. "No, no, no. You've got it wrong. I'd never do anything to hurt her. I love her. And I…I think she was carrying my child."

"What do you mean, you
think
?"

"I followed her…to a clinic that carries out terminations."

"You mean you were stalking her?"

He dropped his hands and looked up at me, eyes strained with despair. "Look, I know how that sounds, but it wasn't like that at all. I just wanted to make sure she was okay."

"I think you'd better start at the beginning." I sat back and folded my arms.

"Chantal started working here a few years ago after she finished her architecture degree. We got on right away and we worked closely together, so we spent a lot of time in meetings, working long hours in close proximity, and grabbing late dinners at the office. The friendship grew and we became close, but I didn't want to make a move on her. She was twenty-five, twenty years younger than I was, and she was my partner's daughter. She was also seeing Steven Shaw." His voice cracked at the mention of Steven's name. "I fell in love with her but she didn't know. Not right away. When Liza disappeared, Chantal was distraught, obviously. She couldn't concentrate on work properly. She became withdrawn and sad. She was trying to get the planning permission sorted out for City Park Complex, as well, which was giving us a lot of problems, and everything seemed to be getting on top of her." He glanced down at a spot on the floor, as if remembering the details. "One night we were both working late and she came into my office to ask a question. She broke down, crying, saying she had to find out what happened to Liza. We had a long chat and I managed to get her in a more positive mood. She said she could do with a drink and we ended up sharing a couple of bottles of wine. Then in the heat of the moment, I kissed her. One thing let to another and…" He trailed off, embarrassed.

"Did James know about it?" I asked.

He shook his head. "I never told him. I was worried about how he would react to a forty-five-year-old man sleeping with his daughter."

Really? Ya think?

"And I know Chantal wouldn't have told him," he went on. "It seemed like she wanted to forget it had happened at all."

"Did you know James was dipping into Chantal's trust fund?"

"What?" His eyebrows pinched together in surprise. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

"Well…I'm…shocked and surprised about that."

And he did look genuinely shocked and surprised, unless he was an Oscar-winning actor, and I didn't think so. He was definitely telling me the truth.

So Elliot had been lying to James about his feelings for Chantal and James had been lying to Elliot about where the money was coming from for their latest investment. It didn't seem to bode well for a future business arrangement.

"I mean, we'd been having a lot of financial problems lately and the company was only just keeping afloat. James was injecting cash into the business, but he told me it came from his private finances until we could get some investors back on board."

"When did you sleep with her?"

"It happened four weeks ago. I don't think I'll ever forget the date. She'd never looked more beautiful to me. I told her I was in love with her and we…we ended up making love." He glanced up at me. "I didn't mean to take advantage of her. It was something that just happened and…well, as you know from the letter, it was never a mistake for me."

"But it was for her?" I prodded gently.

"The next day she told me we couldn't get involved with each other. She said her head wasn't in a good place."

"Did you send her flowers to the office?"

"Yes. I was hoping I might get her to change her mind about us, but she didn't."

"So you started stalking her?"

Maybe there was a thin line between loving her and stalking her. Wasn't there a song about that? No, hang on a sec, that was "Thin Line Between Love and Hate
.
" Still, both of them were probably true.

"No. I told you, it wasn't like that. I was worried about her. The police couldn't even find out what happened to Liza. I was worried that if Chantal started looking for her, something bad might happen. I only followed her a few times to make sure she was safe."

"Which clinic did you follow her to?"

"It's a place called the Second Chance Clinic. Just before she went missing, Chantal went there. I knew that they did abortions and I suspected she was carrying my child because whenever she was in the office in the mornings she kept throwing up, and one day I caught sight of a pregnancy test in her handbag. But before I got the chance to ask her about it, she disappeared." He looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head. "I need to find her."

"Where else did you follow her to?"

"The only other place she went out of the ordinary was Chequer Street."

"Chequer Street?" Chequer Street was a hangout for prostitutes. What would Chantal have been doing there?

"Yes. She talked to one of the street ladies for a few minutes and then went back to James and Nicole's house."

My brain went into shrieking mode. Chantal was tied into the Second Chance Clinic by the business card hidden in her teddy bear, although Hacker found no records of her being a patient. The Second Chance Clinic had a lot of prostitutes who were patients. Chantal was talking to a prostitute. Chantal and Liza had also phoned the clinic before they disappeared. Something was going on at that place and I needed to find out what.

The Second Chance Clinic was housed in an old Victorian building. With the help of government funding, it had been modernized about twenty years ago into a bright and airy clinic on the edge of town, but by now it was looking tired and dated again. With all the money that Chantal's family had, I found it hard to believe she would choose this facility to have a termination.

The entrance had an intercom system. I pressed the button and waited for someone to answer as I peeked through the windows.

"Second Chance Clinic, can I help you?" a female voice answered.

"I'm here to see Dr. Scott," I said.

"And your name is?"

"Amber Fox. I made an appointment."

The door made a buzzing sound.

"Okay, come in, please."

I pulled open the door and strode to the reception desk, where a middle-aged woman sat. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail so tight it was almost giving her a facelift, and her eyes had a constant look of surprise.

"Take a seat, please. Dr. Scott will be with you shortly." She nodded to a row of plastic chairs opposite the desk, where a young woman was sitting. From her short skirt, which was little more than a belt, heels so high she'd get a hip displacement if she wasn't careful, and makeup that would need an industrial paint scraper to get it off, it was pretty safe to say she was a prostitute.

I pulled out the picture of Chantal and showed it to Miss Facelift on reception. "I'm investigating the disappearance of Chantal Langton. Was she a patient here?"

She didn't glance at the picture, although maybe that was hard to do since her eyes were so tight from the ponytail that she couldn't move them anymore.

"Are you a police officer?" she asked.

"No, I work for Hi-Tec Insurance."

"Then I'm very sorry, but I can't discuss our patients with you," she said in a tone that indicated she wasn't in the slightest bit sorry.

"This could be a life-and-death situation. This poor woman has gone missing in suspicious circumstances. I need to find her before something bad happens to her." I pushed the photo under her nose so she couldn't avoid looking at it.

I studied her face for a reaction to the picture and saw a brief twitch of lips as she looked at it.

"I don't recognize her." Miss Facelift bent her head over her desk and started scribbling on some forms.

I'd seen all I needed to, though. That twitch was a dead giveaway that she was lying. So Chantal had been here, but why? Was it connected to her pregnancy or the story Liza was working on? If Liza covered a lot of human interest and women's rights issues, could her story have been about the prostitutes that came here? Before I could think about it more, a tall, slim nurse called my name.

I followed her past several consulting rooms to a door marked
Dr. Andrew Scott.
She opened the door and said, "Amber Fox to see you, doctor. I'll be in reception if you need me." Then she left me standing in front of one of the best-looking men I'd ever seen.

Like Chantal, Andrew Scott had mixed parentage. He obviously didn't get his features from Marie, so I was guessing his dad was a looker, too. He had huge, dark eyes framed by thick, long lashes that any woman would be jealous of, perfectly shaped lips, teeth so straight and white they had to be veneers, and skin the color of my favorite Galaxy chocolate bars. The whole stunning effect almost made me want to lick him.