Voodoo, Lies, and Murder Page 4

  I checked him out as we walked toward him. Mid-fifties, expensive suit, light brown hair, graying at the temples and swept back, a small scar on his right eyebrow.

  He stood and shook our hands, forehead wrinkled with worry. He towered over me. Definitely not a case of short-man syndrome going on there.

  "Nicole told me she'd spoken with you, but if I can offer any other information…" He waited for me to speak.

  "Did you find anything that could help?" Nicole stood, balling up the handkerchief in her hand.

  Before I could say anything, Tia took hold of Nicole's hands and blurted out, "I think Chantal's still alive."

  I glared at her.

  Nicole gasped. "What makes you say that? Do you know where she is?" Her eyes darted from Tia to me and back to Tia again.

  "I'm just getting a psychic feeling that she is." Tia blushed, realizing she shouldn't have said anything.

  "We found a few things but I don't know how or if it will help, or exactly what it means at the moment," I said, observing James as he ran a hand through his hair.

  "I'm getting very skeptical that anyone's psychic abilities can bring back my daughter safely. I need to deal in hard facts." James's eyes narrowed in Nicole's direction, and I got the impression they'd probably argued about her psychic/voodoo connections many times before. Maybe the original fascination with voodoo and Chantal's exotic heritage that attracted him to her all those years ago had worn off. "And the fact is, at the moment, the police have no leads and their investigation is going nowhere, which is why we wanted to get you involved. Do you think Chantal is still alive? I've heard that the forty-eight-hour period after someone goes missing is crucial, and if they're not found by then…" His voice cracked.

  "I'm afraid it's too early for me to say," I said.

  He stared at me intently, as if assessing my ability to investigate the case. "Do you have any children, Ms. Fox?"

  "No."

  "If you don't have children, I'm sure you can't appreciate how anxious we are to find Chantal."

  "I was a police officer for seventeen years, Mr. Langton. I investigated many high-profile cases, including missing persons, and I can assure you that I know exactly how anxious you're feeling at the moment." I turned my attention back to Nicole. "You said Chantal had split up with Steven Shaw after Liza's disappearance. Was there any other man in her life?" I asked.

  "Not as far as we knew," James said.

  "You're obviously a wealthy businessman. Have you received any threats lately? Has anyone approached you demanding a ransom?" I asked.

  "You think this could be a kidnapping?" His eyes darkened.

  A sharp breath escaped from Nicole's lips.

  "It's possible." I nodded.

  "Obviously, there are some people who are not happy with certain developments my company is involved in."

  "Such as the City Park Complex?" I tilted my head, waiting for an answer. Lately, Langton Developments had been granted planning permission to build an eighty-story luxury apartment block on a piece of formerly protected land in the middle of a historic residential area. The locals weren't happy about it at all, and neither were the Heritage Department, who'd been slamming the council's decision.

  "Yes, there's been some opposition to it, but we've been granted planning permission now and the project will go ahead. I've received no threats to my family because of my business."

  "And Chantal worked on that project?"

  "Yes, she was the architect for it."

  "It can't be a kidnapping." Nicole shook her head. "If it was a kidnapping, someone would have contacted us by now for a ransom."

  I didn't want to tell her what I was thinking. If it was a kidnapping that went wrong, maybe Chantal was already dead. Maybe that was why there was no ransom demand.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Call me weird, but ever since I was a kid, bad news always made me hungry. By the time we left James and Nicole's mansion, my stomach was shouting at me to feed it.

  "KFC or Burger Land?" I asked Tia, who was a girl after my own heart and loved junk food almost as much as me.

  "Burger Land sounds yum."

  I was almost salivating at the thought of a juicy burger and crispy fries. Oh, and a chocolate shake. Or strawberry. No, chocolate. Maybe both.

  "What about Hacker and Brad?" Tia asked.

  The pair of them were health freaks. Go figure! I don't think a Burger Land or KFC had ever passed their lips. Didn't they know what they were missing? "We could get them an apple pie. Apple's healthy." In fact, I might get myself one and it could count as one of my five a day. I wasn't entirely sure where I was going to get the other four from since I hadn't got a box of chocolates or a packet of donuts and muffins, but it was a start.

  Luckily, there was no one in the queue for the drive-through.

  "Can I take your order?" a muffled, tinny voice said through the microphone as we scanned the menu sign.

  "I'll have a cheeseburger and a strawberry thickshake," Tia told me.

  "Sorry? I can't hear you?" the voice said.

  "Two cheeseburgers, two fries, and two strawberry thickshakes, please," I said.

  "Do you want cheese on that?" the voice said.

  Well, duh! "Only on the cheeseburgers."

  "Do you want half-fat thickshakes or full fat?"

  "Full," I said. Half fat didn't sound anywhere near as tasty.

  "Do you want gherkins on that?"

  "Only on the cheeseburgers."

  "Do you want to eat in or to go?"

  I frowned at the microphone. Hello? I'm in a drive-through! "To go. And can we have two apple pies as well, please."

  "Shall we get the boys a drink?" Tia said to me.

  "Pardon, what was that?" the voice said.

  I nodded at Tia. "Do you have any green tea?" I said to the mic, wondering how the hell they could prefer green tea to a scrummy thickshake.

  "Erm…hold on a minute, please." Muffled static. "The packet's green, does that count?"

  "What does it say on the packet?" I asked.

  "Tea."

  "Right. Better make it two waters, then, please," I said.

  "Anything else?"

  "No thanks."

  "Please drive to the next window," the voice said, followed by an ear-splitting screech from the speaker.

  I drove to the pickup window and came face to face with Dad. "Dad! What are you doing working in Burger Land?"

  "Sssh!" He pressed a finger to his lips, glancing around behind him.

  "What are you doing here?" I whispered.

  "I'm on a job," he whispered back.

  Dad had been a dedicated police officer for forty-five years. After he retired, he didn't know what to do with himself and formed a neighborhood watch committee. He'd been on a one-man mission to stake out local crime areas and catch the bad guys (and girls, of course, don't want to be sexist here), until Mum had got fed up with all his disguises after he was roaming around like a homeless tramp for weeks, complete with dirty clothes and homeless, trampish smells. It had put a big strain on their marriage for a while. At least he was dedicated, though. I wasn't the only one in my family who lived for their job, or, for that matter, was slightly nuts. But Mum had been a cop widow all these years, and she'd been looking forward to spending some quality time with him after he left the force, so a while ago he'd promised to give up the neighborhood watch after it started taking up all of his time. They'd been having a second honeymoon period together ever since. So what was he up to now?

  "I thought you promised Mum you weren't going to do the neighborhood watch stuff anymore," I whispered.

  Tia shook her head at him. "Oooh, she won't be happy with you."

  "I'm going mad stuck in the house all day. I need to do something. I've promised her it won't take up as much of my time as before."

  "Uh-huh." I nodded, not believing him. I was exactly like Dad—a workaholic. It wouldn't be long before he was out of the house fulltime, trying to rid the ne
ighborhood of crime. "And what are you doing at Burger Land?"

  He glanced around slowly, making sure none of the staff could hear him. "Someone's stealing from the till. The manager asked me to work here so I can catch who's responsible."

  "Right." I nodded as a girl who looked about fifteen, with bright pink hair and a pierced nose, appeared behind Dad and handed him a brown paper bag of food.

  "Here you are, madam. That will be seven ninety-nine, please." Dad handed me the bag.

  I gave him the money as another car drove up behind me. "See you later. Good luck with the till thief," I whispered.

  * * *

  I plonked myself in front of my desk and handed Brad and Hacker the water and apple pies. Tia had disappeared off to do some office paperwork.

  They looked at the pies like I'd just given them a big lump of rat poison to eat.

  "Gross." Brad exchanged a look with Hacker, who nodded his agreement.

  "What?" I said. "Don't tell me you don't eat apples. They're healthy!"

  "Not when they're coated in ten tons of sugar, refined flour, and hydrogenated vegetable oil." Brad parked his gorgeous behind on the edge of my desk.

  I wagged a finger at him. "I've told you a hundred million times not to exaggerate."

  "Good job I brought my own lunch." Hacker pulled out a fork and a plastic box of some weird couscous concoction from his desk drawer. He handed another box to Brad. "Here. I made you one, too."

  Goody goody.

  I tucked into the cheeseburger, my stomach doing an appreciation gurgle. "This is soooo yummy." I did an exaggerated smile. "You don't know what you're missing." Taking a big slurp of thickshake, I filled them in on what had happened so far.

  "So there are a few possibilities," Brad said. "Kidnapping, abduction, runaway, possible medical procedure that went wrong. If she's been depressed you could also include suicide." He ticked them off on his finger.

  I nodded. "There was no suicide note, though. She may have been pregnant and gone for a termination at this Second Chance Clinic or Holbrook Clinic and something might've happened to her." I handed Hacker the card. "I need you to find out what you can about these clinics and this doctor, Andrew Scott."

  Hacker nodded and took a sip of water.

  "According to Nicole, Chantal had split with her boyfriend, but I found this love letter from someone." I handed Brad the note. "It seems like they had some kind of one-night stand. The guy says he's loved her for a long time but won't pressure her into anything. It could be from Steven, but the tone feels like it's written by an older guy."

  Brad studied the note. "Maybe it was more than a one-night stand. We don't know when the note was written, so they could've had a relationship since then. Maybe this guy is married and didn't want his wife to find out he was having an affair with Chantal, and his bit on the side's pregnant, so he kills her."

  "Maybe." I nodded. "But her friend Liza also disappeared six months ago in suspicious circumstances, and Chantal was apparently trying to find out what happened to her." I paused for a thickshake hit. "It seems likely that Chantal's disappearance is connected to that, so I need to look into it."

  "If it is a kidnapping, there's no ransom demand. Unless something went wrong and she's already dead," Brad said.

  "You think this has anything to do with voodoo?" Hacker asked.

  I thought about that for a moment, head on one side. "At this stage, no. It seems like Nicole is just the equivalent of a psychic and healer, although I will need to go and see her sister who does the freaky voodoo. Can you come with me for that?" I asked Hacker. "If she puts a hex on me or something, I want you to turn her into a zombie."

  Hacker clutched his dead chicken's foot again. "Okay." Although he didn't look too thrilled by the possibility. "But I can't do any bad voodoo on her. I told you before, if you do bad things, you get it back three times worse. Plus, as a bokor, any voodoo she can do will be a lot stronger than mine."

  Brad gave me a lopsided grin. "I thought you didn't believe in all that stuff, anyway. Spells, potions, hexes."

  "I don't normally, but I've seen that James Bond film. What was it called?"

  "Live and Let Die," Hacker said.

  "Yeah, that one." I shivered. "And the thought of black magic voodoo is a tad creepy."

  "We'll both go with you," Brad said.

  "James Langton is a big property developer, so it may be that someone who doesn't agree with one of his developments has a grudge against him. There's been a lot of opposition to his City Park Complex going up." I glanced at Hacker. "There was an article in the paper a few weeks back about a guy who was running a campaign to try and get the development stopped. See if you can find out more about him. Maybe he's taken things one step too far and abducted Chantal as payback, or leverage for his cause. Some of these environmentalists can get a bit excited about things."

  "Sure." Hacker nodded.

  "I also need to know if Chantal has used her bank accounts since she went missing, and see if you can hack into the train station's security system and check the CCTV. Chantal's car was abandoned there." I scribbled the registration number on a slip of paper and handed it to Hacker. "And check her mobile phone number to see if she's made any calls." I finished my cheeseburger, screwed up the paper wrapper and threw it in the bin. "The other interesting thing is that Chantal had a trust fund. On her twenty-sixth birthday, in ten days, she was due to get three million pounds from it."

  Brad whistled. "Not exactly small change.

  "No. In the event of her death, it reverts to Nicole and James, who set it up, so I can't really see what kind of motive there would be to kill her for the trust fund." I shrugged. "But see if you can get into the financial records for the fund and Langton Developments," I told Hacker.

  "Shouldn't be a problem." Hacker grinned and his front gold tooth shone back at me. He cracked his knuckles, ready for action.

  I pulled out the list of Chantal's friends that Nicole had given me. "Can you make enquiries with these people?" I asked Brad. "And here's the key to Chantal's apartment. If you could see if there's anything else hidden there, that might help us."

  He took a last mouthful of couscous slop and nodded. "Sure."

  I sucked up the rest of the thickshake, making sure I'd got every last drop. "I'm going to talk to the ex-boyfriend, Steven Shaw. I also need to find out what I can about Liza Bennet." Which meant I'd need to call my ex, Romeo, who was a police officer, and see what info I could get from the police file. I hadn't spoken to Romeo since I'd officially broken it off with him six months ago. It was complicated. I still loved him, he was a genuinely lovely guy, and I hated hurting him. The trouble was, I was in love with Brad more.

  I grabbed my rucksack and headed past reception, waving at Tia as I went.

  "Pssst!" she said, head bobbing around to make sure no one was looking.

  "What's up?" I stopped.

  She held her finger up. "One second. I've got something to show you." Her head disappeared behind the reception desk and I heard the clunk of drawers opening and closing. She rushed around to the front of the desk, a magazine pressed against her chest with one hand, and pulled me into the toilets with the other.

  "Oh, God. You're not going to try and make me do one of your bloody spells again, are you? Because I told you the last time—"

  She cut me off by holding the magazine up in front of me, grinning from ear to ear.

  Haute Couture Wedding Dresses by Umberto Fandango stared back at me from the cover.

  "Dad's doing a line of wedding dresses now." She jumped up and down, squealing as she thrust the magazine in my hand. "Isn't that soooooo awesome? Especially since you need a wedding dress!"

  "Shush!" I put my finger to my lips to emphasize I didn't want all and sundry to hear it.

  She stopped jumping and cocked her head. "Why? If I was getting married I'd want the whole world to know." Her voice cranked up a few decibels again. She pulled the magazine out of my hand and started flicking t
hrough it, showing me the gorgeous dresses. On a scale of fabulousness, these were fabulicious. Previously, I'd lusted after a Fandango handbag and Tia had very kindly given me one as a present. In some ways, I wish she hadn't shown me the magazine because now I was severely lusting after the dresses, too.

  A small sigh slipped out and I tried to ignore the pictures on the pages. Pretty hard, since if she shoved them any closer the whole magazine would be up my nose. "It's complicated."

  She rolled her eyes at me with exaggeration. She'd got that little maneuver from me. "How complicated can it be? You love each other; you're getting married. Where's the complication in that?"

  When you put it like that, it didn't sound complicated at all, but it was. "What if getting married isn't the right thing to do?" I asked her.

  "Are you nuts?" She did her signature snorty hyena-like giggle. Loudly. In fact, they probably heard it in France.

  "Shush!" I said again.

  "Of course it's the right thing," she whispered back, finally getting the message to keep her voice down.

  "What if it doesn't work out?" I rested my hands on my hips. "What if it's just a fairytale and the reality is we get married and then end up getting divorced? What if we don't really love each other, we just think we do? What if we end up hating each other? What if we lose what we have now? What if he disappears again and breaks my heart?" The problem was, I felt like I'd been going round in circles with Brad for years, and part of me was worried that even though we'd been through so much to get back to this point, what if our marriage didn't work out and then I'd have to admit it was finally over between us?

  "Aha!" She held up a finger. "That's the main problem, isn't it? You're worried about him disappearing and leaving you again."

  "Well…" I shifted on my feet, staring at the ground. "Yes, but all the other things could happen, too. Call me old fashioned, but when I get married I want it to be forever, so what if he does disappear, or anything else on my list happens?"

  She threw her arms around me in a giant bear hug. Tia was surprisingly strong for someone who looked so fragile. "I've never met someone who over-analyzes everything so much."