The Complete H-Series of The Eulalie Park Mysteries

by Fiona Snyckers

  Rochelle stood slightly apart from her mother and sister who had their arms wrapped around each other. They both had big, camera-ready smiles on their faces, while Rochelle glowered at the lens. It should have been easy to write off her attitude as teenage sulkiness, but there was a crease between her brows that spoke of real unhappiness.

  Eulalie finished her coffee, loaded the dishwasher, and went back to her bedroom to do her hair. It was a relief to be back in her familiar work clothes. She wore skinny blue jeans, a red tank top, ankle boots, and a light jacket. She blow-dried her hair smooth and tied it into a tail down her back.

  Eulalie called to the cat and the two of them walked down to the office together. Mrs. Belfast was already there.

  “Morning, dear.”

  She sounded like her normal self. She had obviously just arrived because she was still switching on the lights. She put the cat’s basket outside next to the front door. He liked to watch the world go by on Bonaparte Avenue.

  “I need to mail these when the post office opens.” She patted the pile of registered letters from the day before.

  “Okay.”

  Eulalie wasn’t sure whether to mention the night before. Eventually she decided that it would be weird not to.

  “I hope you had a peaceful night after we left, Mrs. B.”

  “Perfectly, dear. Thank you.” She booted up her computer and stared at it fiercely, avoiding Eulalie’s eye.

  “I’m going to the Reiki Wellness Center this morning. One of Rochelle’s old school friends works there. It’s just off Lafayette. I’m not sure how long I’ll be.”

  “Very well, dear. Would you like me to carry on reviewing the security camera footage while you’re gone?”

  “No, thanks. Just keep the office open and answer the phone.”

  Mrs. Belfast looked up. “But why not? We discussed it yesterday.”

  Eulalie hesitated. “I’m afraid you’re withholding information on the case.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I think you know something about the insurance fraud case. And I think it’s related to the man we saw on the security camera yesterday. I believe you know who he is.”

  “But I don’t. Not for sure.”

  “Then I think you have a strong suspicion who he is.”

  Mrs. Belfast wrung her hands. “It’s complicated. You don’t understand.”

  “Then explain it.”

  “I… I can’t. It’s not my secret to tell.”

  “In that case, I’ll tell you what I think. I think you know the man from the security camera footage because he’s your ex-husband.”

  A snort of surprised laughter broke from Mrs. Belfast.

  “That amuses you, does it?” Eulalie thought for a moment. “So, he’s not your husband or anyone you’ve had a romantic relationship with. In that case, I think he’s your brother.”

  Mrs. Belfast’s beehive hairdo quivered.

  “Why would you say that?”

  “Because you’re going to great lengths to protect him. If he’s not an old flame, then he must be a close family member. My money is on your brother. I’m right, aren’t I?”

  “Okay. Yes. You’re right. I’m nearly sure it’s him. I can’t believe he’s back on the island. He has been gone for years. I was starting to think he wasn’t coming back.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “I can tell you the name he was born with, but he goes by many names. Our parents called him Odysseus. Odysseus Pryor.”

  “Lorelei and Odysseus. Who was the poetry fan?”

  “My father.”

  “Okay. What about last night? Was it your brother who tossed your living room?”

  “I think so. He must have been looking for cash.”

  “Mrs. B., is your brother some kind of international criminal?”

  “Criminal is a strong word, dear. We prefer to think of him as an entrepreneur. Some of his activities have skated rather close to the line, while others have crossed it.”

  “Is he capable of launching a cyber-attack on six different companies to cause system-wide failure and collapse?”

  “He is certainly capable of it. But that doesn’t mean he did it.”

  “Would he be working for himself or for a client?”

  Mrs. Belfast shrugged. “I don’t know. His aim would be to make money. It’s the one thing he likes more than anything else.”

  “How close are you? Is he likely to try to make contact?”

  “We were close as children. He’s two years older than I am. I thought the bond between us could never be broken, but Odysseus has proved that it can be stretched very thin.”

  Eulalie’s mind buzzed with conflicting thoughts.

  “I can’t ask you to help me investigate your own brother. I wouldn’t do it myself. Blood is thicker than water.”

  “But this isn’t a criminal investigation, is it, dear?”

  “Not as far as I’m concerned. It’s just an insurance matter. Queen’s Town Federal Life wants to know whether the attack came from inside the six affected companies or from the outside. There’s a clause in their policy that exempts them from having to pay for employee sabotage. But if it was an outside attack, they’ll have to pay up.”

  “And all I want is for my brother to get off the island. Every time he comes here, he causes trouble for me. We get on much better at long distance. I don’t want him hurt or arrested. I just want him gone. If this investigation can achieve that, then I’ll happily participate in it.”

  Eulalie strongly suspected that there was something her secretary wasn’t telling her, but she nodded anyway.

  “Fine. But I reserve the right to review this arrangement.”

  Chapter 6

  Eulalie was thoughtful as she left the office on her Vespa.

  If it came down to a choice between doing her job and helping her brother escape, Mrs. Belfast would help her brother escape. Eulalie was convinced of it. It was what she would do herself. Family bonds were stronger than anything.

  She tried to focus on the day ahead. The Reiki Wellness Center hadn’t been open long. Rosalind Grier was using her fifteen minutes of fame to push her new business. Her classmate’s disappearance and possible death had turned into an unexpected marketing opportunity.

  The wellness center was in a good location. It was visible from Lafayette Drive, which was the main road through the center of town. On either side of the road was a paved and tree-lined walkway known as Lafayette Boulevard. Locals and tourists flocked there day and night to enjoy the sidewalk café culture and year-round festive atmosphere.

  The entrance to the wellness center was on a side road, but the sign was visible from Lafayette, which was important for optimized foot traffic. Eulalie parked her Vespa near the entrance. There were white columns on either side of the door, and a sign above it saying “Welcome to your Bliss”.

  As she stepped through the door, she was confronted by a sparkling fountain and a serenity pool with low box hedges on either side of it. Everything was new and well-tended. Someone had sunk a lot of money into this place.

  She made her way up the path towards the reception area when a young woman approached her from a side door. She was wearing a purple smock with the letters RWC embroidered on the breast pocket.

  “Namaste.” The woman placed the palms of her hands together and bowed to Eulalie. “How may I help you today?”

  “I’m looking for Rosalind Grier.”

  “Do you have an appointment with Ms. Grier?”

  Eulalie took out her private investigator’s license and the card identifying her as a liaison officer for the Queen’s Town police department.

  “I’m not here for a treatment. I’d like to interview Ms. Grier in connection with the disappearance of Rochelle Chirac fifteen years ago.”

  The young woman looked uncertain.

  “The thing is - Rosalind has given a number of interviews to the media. She has another one booked for noon. I’ll see if she
can fit you in. You’re not affiliated to any of the media houses, are you?”

  “I’m affiliated to the police.” Eulalie tapped her liaison officer’s card.

  “Come and have a seat in the welcome center. I’ll find Rosalind for you.”

  Eulalie sat down and looked around. There was a pool deck outside with people in thick white robes lounging on deck chairs and scrolling through their phones. Tinkly whale music was being piped through an invisible sound system.

  The woman who finally appeared from behind the welcome desk was wearing a black pants suit, to distinguish herself as management rather than a therapist. Eulalie recognized her from her TV appearances. They shook hands.

  “Hi, I’m Rosalind. Would you like to come through to my office?”

  She led Eulalie to a small room with one desk, two chairs and a basic computer. All the money, it seemed, had been invested in areas that would be seen by the public. They sat on either side of the desk.

  “You knew Rochelle Chirac when you were at school, Ms. Grier?” said Eulalie. “Can you tell me about your relationship with her?”

  “Oh, absolutely! She was the dearest, sweetest girl. A ray of sunshine. Everyone was devastated by what happened to her. I wish I’d known then what I know now about how alternative therapies can help one process trauma like that.” She made a sweeping gesture. “This wellness center that my husband and I have started is revolutionary on Prince William Island. We are the first to offer cutting-edge alternative therapies like aura cleansing, color spectrum therapy and spiritual rebirth. If you’re interested, we can offer you a complimentary voucher for fifteen percent off your next treatment. We offer an array of…”

  Eulalie held up a hand to stop the flow.

  “Ms. Grier…”

  “…exciting treatments, tailormade for the individual…”

  “Ms. Grier!”

  The woman subsided with a hurt expression. “I was only…”

  “Look, this is not a media interview and I am not a reporter. This is a murder investigation. Before I waste any more time, did you actually know Rochelle Chirac?”

  “Of course, I did.”

  “Then why did you describe her as the dearest, sweetest girl? It’s quite clear that she wasn’t anything of the sort. She came from a difficult background and struggled socially. Some people liked her, and others didn’t. Can you give me any real information about her?”

  Rosalind’s peaceful smile had been replaced by a scowl.

  Eulalie stood up. “As I suspected, you have nothing to tell me. I’ll have to find someone who really knew Rochelle.”

  “Wait!”

  “Eulalie sat down again. “Yes?”

  “I did know her. I did. You want me to tell you about Rochelle? Fine, I’ll tell you. The truth is that Rochelle was a bitch. I know you’re not supposed to speak ill of the dead or whatever, but it’s true. She deserved whatever happened to her. Do you know what she did to me? She hooked up with my boyfriend when she knew we were together. We’d been together for, like, a month. That’s the equivalent of a year in teenage time.”

  “It sounds as though he was at least fifty percent responsible for that.”

  “It’s not the same. Boys can’t control themselves. When something like that happens, it’s always the girl’s fault. Everyone knows that.”

  “Were you and Rochelle friends at the time?”

  Rosalind took a breath. “It was complicated. We were part of the same group. You never knew from one day to the next who was Rochelle’s friend and who wasn’t. But officially, yes, we were friends.”

  “What did you think had happened when Rochelle disappeared?”

  “I thought she’d run off, of course. I thought it would be just for a few days, but I was convinced she had run away.”

  “Had she talked about running away before?”

  “All the time. We all did. We couldn’t wait to get out of school and start living the amazing lives we thought were waiting for us on the other side. We used to fantasize about running away to America to live out our dreams. I was going to be a famous actress. Rochelle was going to be a singer. Sheena was going to join a band as the lead guitarist.”

  Eulalie tapped her cellphone to record the conversation. Normally she would take notes, but she didn’t think Rosalind would respond well to that.

  “What was Sheena’s full name?”

  “Sheena Macintyre.”

  “Does she still live in Queen’s Town?”

  “She works at that cheap hairdresser on Beach Road – Curl up and Dye.”

  “Is her surname still Macintyre?”

  Rosalind gave a bark of laughter. “It sure is. That’s why she doesn’t talk to me anymore. I got married and she didn’t. She has never been able to forgive me for that.”

  “When you used to talk about running away, did any of you take it seriously? Were you aware that Rochelle might have been taking it seriously?”

  “I can’t speak for anyone else, but I wasn’t really planning on running away. It was just a fantasy to pass the time at recess. If I’d had to guess which one of us would do it for real, it would have been Rochelle. She was just one of those people that had a screw loose, you know?”

  “Erratic behavior? Unpredictability?”

  Another crack of laughter. “You could say that.”

  Eulalie had no trouble reading between the lines.

  “Drugs?”

  There was a pause. Fear and uncertainty chased each other across Rosalind’s face.

  “I don’t know anything about that.”

  “It was fifteen years ago, Rosalind. There’s a statute of limitations on crimes like that. You can’t be prosecuted at this stage. All we’re interested in is finding out the truth about what happened to Rochelle. Any involvement she might have had with drugs or alcohol could be relevant to the investigation.”

  “Look… I don’t think we did anything that a million other kids across the world weren’t doing at the same time. A little E at parties. Marijuana for chilling. Nothing hectic.”

  “And Rochelle? Did she also stick to E and marijuana?”

  “I don’t know. There were times when I wondered. We were supposed to do everything as a group, you see. We would smoke together, drink together, drop Es together. But a couple of times, Rochelle turned up to school drunk. She claimed it was from the night before, but I figured she had been drinking that morning.”

  “Did none of the teachers notice?”

  “Rochelle had the right teachers wrapped around her little finger. They thought she was just marvelous and could always be relied on to cover for her.”

  “Can you give me some names?”

  Rosalind looked worried. “I don’t want to get anyone into trouble.”

  “No one is going to get into trouble. You are all just witnesses to that time in her life. If there was a teacher who knew her well, I need to speak to them. Anyone who can give me an insight into her state of mind is useful to me.”

  “Okay, well, the main teacher who protected Rochelle was Mr. Richmond.”

  “The biology teacher?”

  “Yes. Do you know him?”

  “He taught me when I was in high school. I was about five years behind you.”

  “You don’t look familiar. But I suppose I don’t really remember the people who were younger than me.”

  “Can you tell me anything about Rochelle’s boyfriends? Was there anyone in particular? You say she hooked up with the guy you were seeing. Did that turn into a lasting relationship?”

  Rosalind snorted. “It did not. She dumped him the next day. She just did it to hurt me.”

  “Why would she have wanted to hurt you?”

  Rosalind shook her head. “Rochelle used boys like the master manipulator she was. She had plenty of hookups, but I never heard of an actual boyfriend.”

  “Just to get the terminology straight,” Eulalie said. “What did teenagers mean by ‘hooking up’ fifteen years ago? Did it mean
kissing or sex?”

  “It could have meant either, but in Rochelle’s case it usually meant sex.”

  “Did she ever talk about her family?”

  Rosalind screwed up her face in an effort of memory. “I think she liked her dad, but she hated her mother and sister. She felt they were excluding her. I didn’t pay much attention.”

  Eulalie stood up to bring the interview to a close.

  “Thank you for your time. You’ve given me some useful leads.”

  “You’re welcome. Can I interest you in that fifteen percent voucher? You could qualify for a crystal healing treatment.”

  “Thanks, but no. I don’t believe in mystical cures.”

  “That’s a shame because our crystal practitioner is one of the most skilled on the island. She is second only to Angel de la Cour, who I’m still hoping to persuade to come and work for us.”

  Eulalie laughed. “Good luck with that.”

  She saw herself out.

  She would have wanted to go straight on to her next appointment – whether it was visiting Rochelle’s friend Sheena, or tracking down the biology teacher, or having a frank talk with Roland Chirac about his family dynamics at the time of Rochelle’s disappearance.

  Instead, she felt compelled to go back to the office to see what was happening there. She parked her scooter outside Eulalie Park Investigations and ran across the road to pick up a couple of coffees and fruit tarts from La Petite Patisserie.

  Mrs. Belfast was concentrating on her computer screen. Eulalie stood for a while watching her. Her stealthy approach was ruined by the cat who made chirruping noises and came trotting out to greet her. Mrs. Belfast looked up.

  Eulalie walked into the office. “Coffee and a strawberry tart, Mrs. B.”

  “Thank you, dear. I thought you’d be out in the field until evening.”

  “I had a gap between appointments.”

  Mrs. Belfast turned her head so that her cats-eye glasses caught the light coming in from the window and turned opaque. It made her expression unreadable. Eulalie suspected that she knew very well she was being checked up on.

  “How is it going here? Any progress on the security footage?”