When in Bruges (Humorous Romantic Mystery) (11 page)

A
s Chris maneuvered
his car through traffic, Kate couldn’t help wondering where this investigation would lead her. More importantly, where this investigation would lead
them
. She and Chris. She threw him a discrete glance. As always, he was absolutely focused on the task at hand, his eyes staring straight ahead, his classic features relaxed yet vigilant. She watched his strong hands grip the wheel, and for a brief moment imagined them clasping her to his chest.

Involuntarily, she smiled. They made a good team. Of course she’d known from New York they were compatible. Now if only they could manage not to end up in bed together this time, all would be well.

The thought instantly depressed her. Didn’t she
want
to end up in bed with Chris Van Damme? No, she did not, she was quick to rectify her straying mind.

Franklin Drub was the perfect man for her, and they would be perfectly happy together. All she had to do was get to the bottom of this sordid affair, close the case, and she could go back to her perfect life in the States.

Once again, that sense of melancholy loomed large across her consciousness, and once again, she drove it back into the dark recesses of her mind from whence it had sprung.

“What did you think of Alfonso?” she said. “Do you think he was telling the truth?”

“I do,” said Chris. “I’ve heard about this Gabriel Closet guy. Calls himself a photographer but falls more into the paparazzo category if you ask me. As sleazy as they come. Likes to hide in bushes to better stalk his prey, then sell his shots to the highest bidder.”

“Sleazeball,” grumbled Kate. From the corner of her eye she could see him watching her.

“I think you did great back there,” he said.

“You think so?”

“We make a great team. Good cop bad cop and all that.”

“I lost my temper,” she said. “It won’t happen again.”

“No, it was great. You gave him heat, and I—”

“Gave him a pile of money. Was that really necessary?”

“People like Alfonso Gnat respond to one thing only,” he said. “And that’s the whisper of a stack of freshly printed euro bills.”

“I would have gotten the truth out of him,” said Kate, wishing she could at least have given the creepy blackmailer a black eye.

“He could have called the cops on us,” Chris pointed out. “And since our lips are sealed, he could have had us thrown in jail.”

Kate had to admit Chris had a point. Right now, discretion was key. “You’re right,” she said.

“Pardon?” he said. “I didn’t catch that.”

She looked over and caught the twinkle in his eye. In spite of herself, she smiled. He had such an easy charm.

“You’re right,” she said a little louder.

“About what?”

“About the fact that we make a great team. About the way you handled Gnat. About…” Her voice trailed off. Even though she didn’t want to admit it, she was starting to believe his version of what had happened in New York six months ago. Perhaps he
had
left a note for her to find. Perhaps someone in housekeeping had come in and removed it before she had a chance to find it.

She thought back to that morning. The sunlight in her eyes had awakened her. Her hand had slipped to the place next to her and had found it empty and cold. He’d been gone a while. She’d been confused and disappointed and had stepped into the bathroom to put on a robe, then had quickly gone over to his room to see if he was there. His door was open, a housekeeping trolley in front of it and a staff member cleaning up the room. He was gone.

Pensively, she’d returned to her room to take a shower. When she came out, she’d dressed and gone down for breakfast. All the while, a note could have been lying on the nightstand or his pillow or the table… Would she have noticed? Possibly not. She’d been preoccupied and disappointed, and when she returned from breakfast, her room had been cleaned, the bed made and a fresh mint placed on the single pillow, the second one having been removed…

“What are you thinking?” said Chris softly, and he gazed over with a wistful smile.

She shook her head. “Nothing. Just… silly thoughts.”

“Tell me,” he pressed.

But once again she shook her head. Even
if
he’d left her a note, that ship had sailed. No sense catching up with the past. She was a different person now, and so was he. They’d both moved on with their lives, and that was all there was to it.

“I was thinking about Lauren and Kirt,” she lied. “They really seem to like each other, don’t they?”

“Lauren and Kirt?” She could hear the disappointment in his voice. “Yeah, at least from Kirt’s side I know he likes her very much.”

“She does, too,” she said. “Do you think they might end up together?”

She glanced over and saw the pain in his eyes. She knew he could probably see the pain in hers.

“Yeah,” he said finally. “Yeah, I think they just might.”

“You always were a romantic,” she said.

He grimaced and stared off into the distance. “At least I used to be,” he murmured.

G
abriel Closet’s
house was located in Sint-Michiels, a suburb of Bruges, and was one of a few houses on the quiet street that looked quite dilapidated. Nothing that a brush of paint and a wrecking ball couldn’t fix, though.

“Are you sure this is the place?” said Kate.

“Yep,” said Chris, killing the engine. “Can’t you smell it?”

“Smell what?” said Kate.

“The smell of rat,” said Chris rather harshly. He didn’t much care for the likes of Mr. Closet. He didn’t care for his methods or his morals, which both wreaked unspeakable havoc on a community he loved.

“You know him?” said Kate.

“By reputation only,” said Chris. “I’ve never actually had the pleasure of meeting him face to face.”

“Well, take a deep breath,” said Kate as she stepped out of the car. “I think you’re about to do so now.”

Chris looked up and indeed, as they approached the house, a smallish young man with a face like a ferret and buck teeth exited the premises. He frowned as he spotted Chris and Kate walking up to him.

“Hi, there,” he said, not unkindly.

“Hello,” said Chris. “We’re here on business.” He showed the other his card.

Taking it, Closet frowned. “Chris Van… Jacques Van Damme’s son?”

“That’s right.”

Instantly, Closet became guarded. He studied Chris closely, his eyes narrowing, before handing him back the card, and fixing his gaze on Kate. “And who are you?”

Chris pursed his lips, the other’s rudeness grating on his sense of propriety.

“Hi, I’m Kate Harper,” said Kate. “I’m Mayor Peeters’s daughter.”

Closet’s eyes widened imperceptibly. Chris could see the man’s mind working.

“I, erm, gotta run,” Closet said suddenly, backtracking toward his house. “Just remembered I, um, forgot, um… something.”

Both Chris and Kate followed the man as he turned to enter the house. Nervously looking back, he rattled his keys, hurriedly inserted one and opened the door. And he was just about to slam it closed, when Chris planted his foot inside, and pushed it open.

Straining to close the door, Closet made a noise like an idling power drill.

“This will only take a moment,” said Chris, as he held open the door with no effort whatsoever.

Closet, still pushing with all his might, and now turning a pretty shade of scarlet, said, “Sorry! No time! Please come back tomorrow!”

Then, before he had a chance to respond, Kate gave the man a forceful shove that sent him tumbling backward into the house.

Stepping inside, they found Closet stretched out on his back on the hallway floor.

“Sorry about that,” said Kate with a sweet smile. “My hand slipped.”

“Was that really necessary?” cried Closet from his new position on the floor.

“The lady apologized, Gabriel,” said Chris. “Let’s not dwell on it.”

Scrambling back, Closet reached the wall and stared up at Chris and Kate who now effectively towered over him.

“Get out of my house!” he squeaked. “Or I call the cops!”

“I don’t think so,” said Kate as she took a seat on a chest of drawers conveniently placed next to Closet’s head. “Unless you want us to tell them about the murder plot you’ve been hatching.”

“Murder plot? What murder plot?” yelled Closet, now sounding quite nasally. “You’re crazy, you bi—”

Chris held up a finger. “Tsk, tsk,” he chided. “You really need to work on your attitude toward the fairer sex, my friend. This name calling won’t do.”

Closet looked from Chris to Kate. “You’re both crazy!”

“You better believe it,” said Chris. “And if you don’t tell us what we want to know, things might get a lot worse for you.”

“Worse?” said Closet, staring at Kate’s feet as they dangled dangerously close to his head. “What do you mean, worse?”

“Who hired you to take those pictures?” said Kate.

“Pictures? What pictures?”

Kate sighed. “The pictures of our dads.”

“Oh, those pictures,” said Closet with a sly smile.

“Yes, Mr. Closet. Those pictures,” she said, snapping her feet together.

Startled, Closet hopped off the floor a good two feet. “I don’t know who ordered them,” he said quickly. “I got a letter one morning with instructions and an advance. There was no name. Only ‘The Twelve’. They wanted me to document every moment of Van Damme’s and Peeters’s lives, including their campaign plan and schedule.”

“You never met?” said Chris.

Closet shook his head. “The letter said to drop off the package in Minnewater Park, stuff it in a hollowed out rock and mark the rock with red tape. The rest of the money would follow.”

“Where does Alfonso Gnat fit in the picture?” said Kate.

“I didn’t trust this Twelve syndicate, okay? I figured, for all the work I put in, I better make sure I got paid, so I sold the stuff to Alfonso. He’s always in the market for quality work.”

“And did these Twelve pay?”

Closet swallowed and nodded hurriedly. “Yes, they did. The day after the drop-off, I found a big, fat envelope in my mailbox. Full payment as promised.”

“Did you keep the letter and the envelope?” said Chris.

“Of course not, you idiot,” exclaimed Closet. “I burned them, okay?”

“First rule of shady business,” said Chris to Kate. “Destroy all evidence.”

“You got that right,” laughed Closet. “We done now?”

“Yep,” said Kate, and hopped off the cabinet. She crouched down next to Closet, and took a firm grip on his nose. “And you’re also done, all right?”

“Owowowow!” the unfortunate paparazzo howled.

“No more pictures of my dad or Chris’s, agreed?” she said, unrelenting.

“All right, you crazy— woman!”

She released his painful snout and patted his head. “Good boy,” she said. “I knew you would see the error of your ways.”

He scowled at her, gingerly touching his nose, but didn’t speak.

Chris eyed her reverently. What a woman. She’d make a fine partner for Van Damme Security & Co. Hell, she’d make a fine partner for him!

“
Y
ou really have
a way with people, you know that?” said Chris as they were strolling through Minnewater Park, an enclave of peace and quiet just south of Bruges’s historic center.

Kate grinned. “Just a matter of training, I guess.”

“And style.”

“Oh, and what is my style?”

“Well, you remind me of one of my favorite characters as a kid.”

“Velma from Scoobie Doo?”

“Christine Cagney from Cagney & Lacey.”

“Why, thank you,” she said with a smile. “She’s one of my favorites, too.”

They were walking across a bridge, when Chris turned to her with a cheeky smile. “You do know what bridge this is, don’t you?”

“I have no idea, Mr. I-know-all-about-Bruges-and-you-don’t.”

They’d halted at the center of the bridge, gazing out across the Minnewater, a small lake replete with white swans.

“Minnewater means lake of love,” said Chis softly. He turned to her, leaning against the cast-iron balustrade. “It is rumored that when two lovers walk across this bridge, they will experience eternal love.”

In spite of the fact that Chris did look like a love god at this exact moment, the sun lighting up his classic features, and that she had to fight a sudden compulsion to throw herself into his arms, Kate managed to look skeptical. “For one thing, we’re not lovers. And for another, I don’t really believe in that kind of stuff.”

“Hard-nosed cop, huh?” he said with a glint of mockery in his eye. “I know the type.”

“Yup, that’s me,” she said as she watched a swan chase another swan onto the green meadow lining the lake. “Not a romantic bone in my body.”

They crossed the bridge in silence, and soon found themselves in the exact spot Gabriel Closet had allegedly used as a drop-off site for his photographic efforts.

“I don’t see anything,” said Chris.

The hollowed-out rock was indeed there. It formed part of a row of capstones lining a part of the lake near the Beguinage. Chris had jumped down onto a small wooden pier and examined the stones.

“Nothing?” said Kate, joining him.

Chris shook his head. “Just a silly old stone. Whoever used it must know his way around these parts, though. Even I didn’t know it existed.”

Kate sighed, and sank onto the wooden pier. She didn’t know what she’d expected to find, but at least more than this.

“The Twelve,” mused Chris, as he took a seat next to her. “I wonder who or what they could be.”

“Must be someone with a serious grudge against our dads,” said Kate, resting her chin on her knees as she stared out across the lake. From where she sat, she had a good view of the Beguinage, and beyond it, the old town. She could even see the Belfry from here. She and Lauren had taken the 366 steps to the top yesterday, and she still felt it in her calves.

“Tired?” said Chris.

She nodded. She might have gone all ‘bad cop’ on Gabriel, but she now clearly experienced the backlash from the adrenaline rush. She felt extremely tired all of a sudden. She didn’t protest when Chris put a hand on her back, and rubbed it gently.

“Mh,” she murmured, and allowed herself to fall against his chest. They were partners now. Friends. Nothing wrong with friends taking care of each other, was there? He had her back—literally—and she had his.

As she rested against his chest, she felt a sudden sense of peace wash over her. He slung his arms around her, and pulled her close, pressing his cheek against the top of her head. She closed her eyes and felt herself drift away, warm and safe in his embrace. The sound of the ducks softly quacking in the distance, the murmur of voices, the gay song of birds in the treetops and the gentle rustle of the wind made her lose all tension and sense of time. She felt so safe, so peaceful…

Of all the men she’d ever known, there was no one with whom she felt more at ease than Chris. And even though she knew this moment couldn’t last, she wanted to make the most of it while it did.

And it was as she had finally decided Chris had most probably told her the truth about the note, and the memories of that night started coming back to her, that a familiar voice sounded somewhere close by.

“Kate? There you are!”

Groggily, she opened her eyes. To her surprise, a short, pudgy man, wearing coke-bottle glasses, stood staring at her.

“Franklin!” she cried. Instantly, she jerked away from Chris, lost her balance, and almost dropped into the lake. Luckily, Chris was there to save her from toppling in head first.

Looking up, she found Franklin looming over her, and she gave him a little wave. “Franklin, honey, what are you doing here?”

He lent her a hand and pulled her up from the pier onto the stone wall. Confusion was written all over his face. “Well, Queenie told me where to find you.”

“Queenie?” said Kate. That woman! “But what are you doing in Belgium?”

He looked positively bashful all of a sudden, and scratched his scalp. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, you certainly did,” she said, then realized she probably didn’t sound all that pleased. “What a wonderful surprise!” she quickly amended.

He threw Chris a puzzled look. “Who, um, what are
you
doing here, honey?”

“Oh, I’m working on a case,” she said. “Something my father asked me to take care of for him.”

“Uh-huh?” said Franklin, waiting for an explanation as to who the other guy was.

“Hi,” said Chris, extending his hand. “I’m Chris Van Damme. We’re working the same case, only from a different angle. She’s working for her father, I’m working for mine.”

“Franklin Drub,” said Franklin. “I’m, um, Kate’s, um—fiancé.”

“I thought as much,” said Chris with a polite smile.

“Right, right,” said Franklin, confused. He turned back to Kate. “I thought it would be nice to meet your father before the wedding, so…”

“That’s a great idea,” said Kate warmly. “He’ll be over the moon.”

Franklin’s eyes wandered back to Chris and he leveled a suspicious look at him.

“You’re, um, Belgian?”

“That’s right,” said Chris

“I see,” said Franklin, and his tone suggested he didn’t think much of the fact.

Oh, God, thought Kate. She’d been sitting in Chris’s lap, hadn’t she? And he’d been kissing the top of her head, hadn’t he? Not exactly the stuff lovers do, but still!

“So glad to meet Kate’s fiancé,” said Chris, though he didn’t look glad. “Heard so much about you.”

“That’s fine,” said Franklin stiffly. “So, um,” he added, gazing at Chris owlishly through his spectacles. He clearly wasn’t happy either. Not happy at all. “Well, erm…” He turned to Kate again. “So you’re finished here, honey? Or do you need to continue, um, whatever you were doing with, um, Chris?”

“Oh, no, we’re finished.”

“Well, I still need to go over to the Perch,” said Chris. “I promised to meet Kirt.”

Kate gave herself a mental head slap. “And I told Lauren I’d meet her.”

“Where?” said Franklin. “Perhaps I can join you?”

Such a sweetheart. He’d just caught her wrapped up in another’s man’s arms and still he was all chivalrous courtesy. And he’d flown halfway across the world to be with her!

“Oh, that’s great, honey. I’m meeting her in the Perch,” she said without thinking.

Franklin didn’t speak for a moment, his face working. Then he blinked a couple of times. “You’re meeting Lauren, and Chris, and this… Kirt in the Perch?”

“For the investigation,” Chris quickly interjected.

“Yes, honey. For the investigation,” said Kate, cringing.

Franklin blinked some more. “Who’s… Kirt?”

“Kirt’s my associate,” said Chris.

“I see,” said Franklin dubiously.

“Kirt is helping Chris, Chris is helping me, and Lauren is, um, helping Kirt. We’re all helping each other,” said Kate.

“So… perhaps I can help, too?” said Franklin hesitantly.

“Of course you can,” said Chris. “You just come along with us. We can always use some extra brainpower to crack this case.”

“Great idea,” said Kate, sounding a lot more enthusiastic than she was feeling. Oddly enough, though she was, of course, over the moon that Franklin had come all this way to be with her, she couldn’t help feeling a touch of resentment, too. His unexpected arrival had made things a whole lot more complicated.