Flossed (Alex Harris Mystery Series) (21 page)

“Because maybe whoever she was having an affair with hit her and she’s there talking to Tom about mending her marriage. She can’t very well admit to having an affair, now can she?”

“I suppose not. But that still leaves us with one big problem.”

“What’s that?”

“Two people are dead. So who did it?”

I turned and pulled into the driveway in front of the Westlake’s house. There were no other cars in sight.

“Do you think she’s here? Maybe she’s over with Donna,” I said.

“Well, there’s only one way to find out.” Sam hopped out of the car. “Her car might be in the garage.”

“Alex, Sam. Come on in. You’ll have to forgive my appearance.” Wanda, still dressed in a pink bathrobe and a pair of socks, answered the door before we had a chance to knock. Her eyes were red and puffy and her hand held a wad of crumpled tissue. “Just couldn’t find the energy this morning to get going.”

“How are you, Wanda?”

Wanda patted my hand. “I’d be better if Bill was back.”

“He’s not here?” asked Sam.

“Not yet. He should be getting in tomorrow afternoon. He tried to get another flight out of Switzerland but, well, this being summer and all, everything was booked.” Her voice trailed off while she started to make a pot of coffee. That chore done, she turned back to us. “I guess he could’ve taken a train.”

Her words echoed what I had been thinking. I had a feeling Bill wouldn’t have hitched a ride on Air Force One if he had had the chance. The animosity between Bill and Doug was obviously deeper than anyone had thought.

“Have you spoken with Donna?” I asked as I poured coffee for Wanda and Sam. I returned the pot to the counter and filled the teakettle sitting on the stove.

“I talked with Donna last night. Her parents flew in from Chicago so she’s not alone.”

Sam put a bit of milk in her mug and took a sip. “What about Doug’s parents?”

“His father is dead, as far as I know, and his mother’s health isn’t too good. She’s asked Donna to bring Doug’s body back to the U.S. to be buried next to his father in the family plot.”

“What a terrible ordeal for Donna to have to go through,” I said.

“Yes, it is, but she has her parents here for support, thank God. Look, would you mind if I went up and changed? Help yourself to breakfast if you’d like.”

As soon as Wanda left, Sam looked at me. “The other day when we were at the club for lunch, I overheard some women at the next table talking about the horrendous amount of paperwork they had to go through to get registered to live in Belgium and all the bureaucratic nonsense. I got the feeling it was really something. I wonder what it’s going to be like trying to get a body shipped back to the United States.”

“Not pleasant, I would imagine.” I took a mug from the cabinet next to the sink and poured some water from the kettle. I found some tea bags in a canister by the toaster and sat back down. “Don’t you think it a bit odd Bill isn’t back?” I asked, lowering my voice.

“Very. But Wanda did say Bill and Doug didn’t get along.”

“Yes, but Doug was Bill’s partner for pity’s sake and the man was murdered. John says Bill seems to be having a lot of problems lately and is under major stress, but still.” I shook my head and took another sip of tea.

Somewhere overhead, I heard the sound of running water.

“Wanda looks terrible,” Sam said.

“Well, with two murders, one happening in her own home, I guess she has the right to be out of it.”

A half hour later, Wanda came back into the kitchen dressed in a pair of shorts and a white sweater. Her wet hair was pulled back and she had a touch of lipstick on her lips.

“There! That feels much better,” she said, trying for a smile and showing her protruding teeth.

I poured her a fresh cup of coffee and asked if I could fix her something to eat.

“No, I’m fine. Did I mention there’s going to be a memorial service for Doug tomorrow at the Catholic Church?”

“No, you didn’t,” I said. “Is that necessary? I mean Donna has so much to do.”

“Yes, she does, but Doug was very well liked and respected here and she feels she would be cheating all of his colleagues and friends if she just took the body back. She’ll have to come back to pack up everything and she said it’s now or never for a service. Once she puts him in the ground, she just wants to get over it.”

“So she’s not going to stay here, then?” Sam asked.

“No. They didn’t own their house, so she just has to cancel the lease. That makes it easier. While she’s back in the states, I’m going to get estimates from the movers and go ahead with the packing.” Wanda put her hand to her wet hair and smoothed it down in the back. “I have so much to do. Bill is going to need a new partner and a new secretary. And I’m going back to be with the kids at the end of the month. Maybe I shouldn’t have offered to help Donna. If I can get someone else to handle the movers for her then when she gets back, hopefully she’ll just have to check out at the commune and leave.”

“Check out at the commune?” Sam asked.

“Everyone, including Belgians, carry an identity card and you have to go to the commune for everything. And the communes, needless to say, are anything but efficient. If you don’t check out properly and turn in your Belgian driver’s license and ID card, they don’t allow your furniture to leave on the next boat.”

“Over a few pieces of paper?” I asked with cynicism.

“Well, it’s more than that, I suspect. Their true motive is to make sure you’re not leaving without paying all your taxes and phone bills. Tax is the reason behind everything that happens in this country.”

“I know it’s high,” I said.

“Ha! They tax their people to death. With Doug having his own business, I think the whole process of checking out is going to be rather arduous. It’s not like in the States, having your own business. No. Here they make everything a big deal and they wonder why everyone cheats on their income.”

Wanda’s voice had such an edge to it and her anger so visible I had to wonder if she was talking more about her own experiences with not paying proper taxes than she was out of concern for Donna.

“Surely Doug and Bill had an accountant who can handle all of that for Donna.”

“Yes, I suppose,” Wanda said, her voice returning to normal. “So. I haven’t seen either of you for a while. How are things?”

“Fine. We’ve been doing a bit of sightseeing to Antwerp and Amsterdam.”

“We might be going off to London,” Sam interjected.

“Not with the guys, probably,” I sighed.

“Is John still helping out the inspector? It can’t be much of a honeymoon for you.”

“Oh, I’m used to him being wrapped up in his work. I’m much the same when we’re at home.”

“Speaking of home, Alex, when do you all leave?”

“On Sunday morning. It’s gone by all too quickly.”

“I’ll have to write you a letter and let you know how everything turns out. Who Bill gets for a partner, how things are going for him without Doug and Martine.”

“You don’t think the police will have found the killer or killers before Sunday?” I asked, this being my only concern for the moment. I didn’t care who Bill got for a partner or even if he ever did find someone else. The running of the business seemed more important to Wanda than the death of two people.

“They haven’t come up with much so far, have they?”

“I guess not,” I conceded feeling a bit guilty about betraying John.

Wanda put her cup down and looked as if she wanted to say something else. She hesitated, changed her mind, and looked at me. “I hope you don’t think me insensitive. I was wondering, that is a thought occurred to me and I just wondered whether or not it has occurred to the police.”

“What is it, Wanda? If John hasn’t mentioned it to me, I can always ask him.”

“Do you think it’s possible Donna killed Doug? And Martine?”

I put my hands around the mug and sighed. “The thought has occurred to me, to both of us,” I corrected, nodding at Sam, “but what makes
you
think she might have?”

“Nothing specific.” Wanda tapped a red fingernail on the side of her mug. “I told you about Doug’s affair with Martine. Donna tries like hell to pretend it was all over and it didn’t bother her, but I know for certain it did more than she let on. And even though it’s been over for quite some time, she’s still very bitter.”

“We got the same impression,” Sam said. “We saw her the other day at the club.”

“We went for lunch,” I added quickly, lest Wanda think we were snooping, which, of course, we were.

“I thought if she knew Martine was pregnant, maybe Martine had said something to Doug and he told Donna, then that would have dredged up all the old pain she had about not being able to have a baby—”

“And if she thought the baby was Doug’s,” I said, picking up Wanda’s thought, “then it does seem to fall into place.”

“I went over to be with her yesterday and she’s so, well, calm about the whole thing. Like with this memorial service. She acts as if she’s planning a party, for Christ’s sake.”

“Wanda, I don’t know her well enough to comment on the way she handles her grief, but maybe it’s just her way of getting through all of this.”

“Or maybe she’s happy he’s dead,” Wanda said raising an eyebrow.

Wanda gave us the instructions to the Catholic Church. I wasn’t sure we would attend the memorial service but took them anyway before leaving.

Chapter 31

“What day do you want to go to London?” Sam asked once we settled into our seats at a café by the apartment.

“I don’t think it matters. With this new murder, I don’t think John will be gracing us with his presence until we’re flying over the Atlantic.”

“And Michael is having a high time teaching Belgians the proper way to brush. What kind of guys have we married?”

We consulted our menus. My French had greatly improved since arriving. Reading the menu was easy though our pronunciation left something to be desired. We settled on something sounding the same in both English and French,
spaghetti bolgonaise
, and waited for the waitress to leave before resuming our conversation.

“Wanda was right, it’s not been much of a honeymoon for you.” Sam frowned at me.

“Nonsense. It’s been perfect. Except for two murders and a honeymoon with no husband, what more could a girl ask for?”

“Well, your attitude is good, I’ll say that for you.”

“Sam, I have a lifetime to be with John. But I’m sure glad you came along. If I had to be on my own everyday, I’m not sure I would have survived.” I leaned against the back of the booth and ran my hands through my hair. “I can’t help but think we’re all missing something.”

“Missing something?” Sam asked. “Like what?”

“Yeah. With all this murder stuff.”

“Ah. The murder. Well, what could we possibly be missing? We’ve talked with everyone involved. Unless of course a total stranger broke into Wanda’s the night of the cookout and tired of waiting to use the restroom, strangled the occupant. And just happened to bring along some floss just in case he got impatient and had to remove the occupant with force.”

“Don’t be glib,” I chided.

“I wasn’t. I’m serious. If not one of the people we or John have already spoken with, then the only other option is a total stranger which doesn’t make any sense.”

“Well, then it has to be someone we know.”

“And the best suspect for both murders is—”

“Paul. I know. Or Donna. But we’ve ruled out Paul so let’s not go down that road again.”

“Okay. Wanda could be right. It could very well be Donna,” Sam agreed.

“She knew about the affair, so she kills Martine. She finds out Martine was pregnant and not being able to conceive herself, totally loses all sanity and kills Doug as well. I can see it.” I nodded. “She’s a cold person. And not being able to have a child when you really want one drives many women crazy.”

Our meals arrived and we ate in silence for a few moments, hungrier than we had thought.

“So what about a baby?” Sam asked as she wiped a bit of sauce from her chin.

“You mean Martine’s baby?”

“No, your baby.”

I choked on a piece of bread. “Excuse me? What baby? I don’t have a baby.”

“Exactly. When are you and John going to make me an aunt. Henry and Kendall are dying for a little cousin.”

I put down my fork. “Honest to God! You sound just like John’s mother. The first thing out of her mouth after the ceremony was ‘Congratulations. A granddaughter would be nice, but I’ll settle for a grandson, too.’”

“Are you serious?”

“Why do you find this so hard to believe? What was the question that just left your lips a few seconds ago?”

“Well? So have you two discussed it?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes, we have. And no, we haven’t made any decisions yet. As a matter of fact, I don’t know if I want children.”

Sam dropped her fork; a piece of spaghetti flew onto the floor. “What the heck does that mean? You love my kids.”

“Exactly. I love
your
kids. I don’t know if I want my own.”

“Why haven’t you talked this over with me before now?” Sam looked truly hurt.

“You’re my sister and I love you dearly and even though I find you very attractive, I didn’t marry
you
, did I?” My attempt at levity did not work. “Look. You will be the first to know. But right now, I’d like to get used to the idea of being married. I want to enjoy being Mrs. Van der Burg without clouding this time with major decisions. Getting married was a big enough step for me to take, albeit, one I’m glad I took, but nevertheless, children are not on the menu for now and may never be if truth be told. Case closed.”

“Fine. I guess you can share mine until you’ve made up your mind,” Sam said with a huff.

“Thank you. John and I enjoy spending time with our niece and nephew. Now,” I said the word forcefully telling Sam it was time to change the subject, “do we know exactly where Paul lives?”

“Somewhere in this area, I should imagine. He’s always walking over to the apartment. It can’t be far. Why do you ask?”