Yeah, right. I could’ve used more help, but he kept repeating that phrase.
-o-o-o-
PRECISELY AT TEN, the Tran brothers, those detectives extraordinaire, arrived at the portico with a thirty-something Vietnamese couple and two boys in their early teens. Dana and I greeted them and herded them into the empty lobby.
Back when the Seabreeze Inn had been a fancy resort, this expansive open space would’ve been filled with employees and travelers, but on that Saturday morning, we had the room to ourselves. The large white fountain in the center was surrounded with bronze burros wading in the water. I’d always found that a relaxing view.
We headed for one of the black leather sofas near the fountain, and I sat next to Dana, holding her hand. Damn, it was great to have her close.
Suong was about five-feet, three-inches tall and slender. Her silky black hair reached down to the small of her back, and she wore a white cashmere sweater and tan slacks. Very stylish.
I asked Suong and her husband about their trip.
“It’s been great,” she said with a distinctly Texas accent. “We made it without killing either kid. It’s impossible to keep teenage boys in their seats for four hours, but believe me, we tried.”
As if to prove her point, they splashed each other with the water in the fountain. She spoke sharply to them in Vietnamese, and they promptly moved away. Apparently, they took her seriously some of the time.
Her husband walked over to the kids and herded them toward a sculpture of a ten-foot-long shark.
“Are you a Texan?” Dana asked Suong.
She giggled. “You betcha, born and raised in Houston. Go Astros. My husband,” she nodded at him as he pretended to feed one of the boys to the shark, “was raised in Southern California.”
He had sounded like a local.
“How’d you meet?” Dana asked. She’d always been much better at small talk than me.
“In college, Palo Alto. He was studying economics, and I was working on a computer science degree. We both ended up in the same dorm building. The first time I saw him, the fireworks erupted, choirs of angels sang, the whole crazy love-at-first-sight thing. He’d smacked me right between the eyes.”
She didn’t seem anything like what I’d expected. She was so typically, boringly American. “How did you end up owning an occult shop in Times Square?”
She shrugged. “Life takes us in crazy directions. He got a job with the Federal Reserve Bank in the Big Apple. That supposedly was a big whooping deal, so we moved east. Luckily, I have family in Brooklyn, so we slid right into a little Vietnamese community there.”
“She forgot to mention,” Dahn said with pride in his voice, “that she turned down jobs with Google and Sun Microsystems in the Bay Area.”
Suong smiled at him. “I didn’t want to work in a cubicle cranking out software for some maps program or create search engine ads. Instead, I found a job in Manhattan with a high-tech online newspaper. Fascinating work, but two years later, the company went bankrupt. And while I was looking for another job, I worked for one of my cousins at her New Age shop. I loved talking about mystical things with tourists from all over the world. Then my cousin told me she wanted to retire, and I bought the store. Want me to tell you your horoscope for tomorrow?”
I shook my head and fought a grin. She sounded like she loved her job, but I still didn’t see any connection to detective work.
On the plus side, she had considerable magical power. I’d felt her aura when I shook her hand. “Thao said something about you helping your uncles with their investigations.”
He glanced around as though making sure we wouldn’t be overheard. In a low voice, he said, “This has to stay strictly confidential. Her safety depends entirely on her anonymity.”
I held up my hand like I was taking an oath. “Absolutely. Ian and my boyfriend Philippe will have to know, but nobody else.”
“I agree,” Dana said.
Suong nodded. “I went into computers because I have this knack for programming. Where most people see garbled combinations of numbers and letters, I see the underlying attempt to achieve some goal. I’m particularly good at noticing coding mistakes and recognizing how a program might produce unexpected results.”
“In other words,” Dahn said, “she is an excellent hacker. She can break into almost any network, given enough time to study it.”
“Ah,” I said as a light went on in my head. “Are you the person who infiltrated the sorcerers’ private networks?”
She grinned. “You do know my work.”
I shook my head. “Only the results. The information you’ve collected from dark magicians has been invaluable.”
“And it will only remain so if we keep that success secret,” Thao reminded me.
“You bet.” Finally, I was hearing about something Henri couldn’t do. I explained how Dana and I were looking for Cara and our mom and how Thao and Dahn had struck out.
Suong grinned at her uncles. “They’re great private eyes, but they can only follow the evidence they can see. I look at the world in a completely different way, in cyberspace.”
A different approach—that’s what we needed, particularly when it came to finding Mom. “One of my mentors helped me find a detective who is already close to Antione Breaux, the sorcerer who owns Cara. The detective expects to finish his work soon. If he’s right, I won’t need your help there. But Dana and I still need you to find our mother.”
Thao and Dahn both nodded. Then Thao said, “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if your family was whole again?”
Talk about an understatement. “Okay,” I said, “let’s assume for the moment Henri will get Cara back soon. How would you go about finding Nora?”
“First,” Suong said, “I’d look for her and your father in the same way I would look for any non-magical person. These days, it’s virtually impossible for someone to hide. How long have they been missing?”
“Alan and Nora Boyle vanished from Spokane about a year ago,” Dahn said.
“If you can’t find any trace of them,” Suong said, “he must’ve planned their disappearance carefully.”
Dahn nodded. “Alan Boyle stopped using his credit cards, his ATM cards, his cell phone, and his laptop computer.”
Suong thought for a moment. “To survive undetected for so many months, he must’ve saved up a huge pile of cash, particularly if he took his wife with him.”
“He’s tried to sell her for years,” I said, “but house slaves are cheap. He probably keeps her around to take care of all the day-to-day stuff he hates.”
“Okay,” Suong said, “let’s assume they’re living on untraceable cash. I can take a deep dive into your dad’s finances and his social media to see whether he’s left any trails there. If that’s a bust, I’ll check for messages back and forth with his existing networks of friends in Spokane and Bakersfield. Some of them probably stay in contact with him.”
“How long will that take?” I asked. The gods only knew whether Mom could hang on for much longer. “What if Dana and I are in a big hurry? Is there anything you can do to speed up the process?”
Suong sighed. “It could be months before your dad reaches out to someone. I’ll get started right away, but I don’t see any good alternative approach.”
At least I knew the bitter truth. “Okay, thanks for being honest. My sister and I should find out within a few days whether the other detective has succeeded in tracking down Breaux. In the meantime, Suong can start work on finding Nora.”
We talked through a few other details, then I said, “I’ve arranged for a half-day of whale watching trip tomorrow morning. The current storm is supposed to pass through tonight.”
We made arrangements to meet at harbor, and Suong and her family left. The woman seemed sharp, although hardly what I’d expected. Her uncles definitely knew their stuff, and they trusted her. That gave me comfort. Mom and Cara might be home soon, maybe even before Sa
int Patrick’s Day.
Chapter 13
BECAUSE OF MY busy schedule, and Ian’s, we couldn’t find the time to enjoy the big waves pounding along the shore until late in the afternoon. Christina also came along. The three of us look like blimps sitting on a bench that normally stayed well above the sea. Thanks to a high tide and the strong winds, though, we periodically got drenched when the biggest waves crashed into a collection of tide pools fifty feet in front of us. The raging surf hurled seawater high into the air, and the gale-force winds carried it inland.
What a rush! I hadn’t had this much fun in ages. My only problem was that water kept sneaking in between my hat and the collar of my rain suit. Most of me stayed warm, while my back was soaked. It couldn’t be helped, at least not then. Next time, I needed to buy a full body suit like Christina’s and Ian’s.
The three of us sat mostly silent. The roar from the waves was so loud that we had to yell to hear each other. So, I meditated in the middle of the raging storm and prayed that no rogue waves would come our way. If that happened, we’d be goners, smashed against the houses on the opposite side of the scenic drive behind us.
-o-o-o-
AFTER WHAT SEEMED like hours, the tide turned, and the wind fell off. Our magical moment in time was over—until the next big storm. On the plus side, I’d basked in so much natural magic, I felt like I could float over the ground.
My body didn’t agree, though. My balance was terrible, and my joints were stiff. I could barely walk across the sand to Ian’s sedan without falling over, particularly when the wind shifted direction.
My physical weakness didn’t diminish my spirits at all. On the way back to the inn, we talked through chattering teeth about how much fun we had. We were lunatics, pure and simple.
-o-o-o-
Sunday, March 7th
IN THE MORNING, Dana, Philippe, and Christina agreed to join my whale watching trip with Suong’s family. By dawn, the sky was crystal clear and deep blue, washed clean after the rain.
Five miles or so offshore, we spotted over a dozen whales, both humpbacks and California grays, not to mention seals and seabirds galore. Christina turned out to be a great wildlife interpreter, as I’d expected. She knew more about the sea monsters than the professional naturalist on the boat.
After we ate lunch at the harbor, we headed to the aquarium. Again, Christina wowed everyone in Suong’s family with her knowledge of the critters on display. She was like a pintsized John Muir. I was so proud of her.
But as we were standing in front of the fabulous jellyfish exhibit, my burn phone rang. I walked away from the others to a quiet corner and said, “Hello, Henri.”
He didn’t reply. Instead, a strange male voice asked with a faint French accent, “Who is this?”
He caught me up short. I said, “You first, or I’m hanging up.”
The man said, “As you wish. I am Detective Jacque Lawrence of the Montréal police. To whom am I speaking?”
That threw me for a loop. A cop? A half-dozen possibilities crossed my mind, none of them good. But I hadn’t done anything wrong, and a Canadian cop couldn’t do much to me anyway. “This is Moira. Why do you have Henri’s phone?”
“How do you know the gentleman?”
I hated it when somebody answered a question with another question, particularly when lawmen did. “You first. Is he okay?”
“Because you refuse to tell me your relationship to him, I’m forced to be blunt. No, he is not okay. In fact, he is quite dead. Now, how do you know the gentleman?”
I’d imagined Henri might be in trouble, but not dead. Grief flashed through me at the terrible news. I had to lean against a nearby corner to keep from toppling over.
“Madame, are you still there?” Lawrence asked.
“Y-yes, just stunned. What happened to h-him?”
“We’re still trying to ascertain that. He was found early this morning in an alley in the oldest part of Montréal, near a popular nightclub. His face was scorched as though someone had tried to burn him. All of the hair on his head is gone. Now, please answer my question. How do you know him?”
It sounded like Henri had died from a magical fireball. I was sorely tempted to lie to the cop, or at least to hold back the full truth, not wanting to get into the whole magical fighting thing.
“Henri is a private detective, a former police officer in Boston. I hired him to find my sister, Cara Boyle. I suspect she was kidnapped in Las Vegas by a man named Antoine Breaux who apparently lives in Montréal. My detective went there to see if he could find Breaux and Cara.”
That led to a flurry of more questions about what Cara was doing in Vegas, which I avoided. Then I asked, “Do you know this man Breaux?”
“Indeed, and you should be extremely careful. His father is one of the most powerful organized crime bosses in this city. Antoine is his favorite thug and is suspected of committing several murders already.”
Lawrence asked me more questions about what Henri had been up doing in Montréal, but I couldn’t answer most of them.
“Where is Antoine Breaux now?” I asked.
“We have no idea,” Lawrence said. “He has not been seen for about a week. We have been trying to find him all day because someone lit his house on fire this morning.”
My throat burned. “Was anyone hurt?”
“Apparently not. The fire department has inspected the building. It remains mostly intact, and they have found no human remains.”
Relief flooded through me, and I took a couple of deep breaths to get a hold of myself. Thank the gods.
In response to more questions, I gave Lawrence as much information as I could on the off-chance he’d find Cara. After the cop hung up, I checked on my friends. They were still entranced by the jellyfish.
So, I immediately called the Chicago witch, who answered on the first ring. I identified myself and asked, “Do you know what happened to Henri?”
“No, I’ve been trying to call him all day to confirm he will pick me up at the airport. He hasn’t returned my calls. I’m supposed to leave for O’Hare in an hour.”
“I’m afraid I have terrible news,” I said. “Are you sitting down?”
After a pause, he said, “I am now.”
I relayed to him what Lawrence had told me.
“That’s horrible,” the witch said. “I can’t understand what happened. He specifically told me he wasn’t going to confront Breaux, just follow him at a safe distance.”
That was what he’d told me, too. “The sorcerer must’ve realized he was being followed, and he or another sorcerer attacked Henri. I’m so sorry. I hardly knew the man, but he was trying his best to help me recover my sister.”
In a low quiet voice, the witch said, “I’ve had a horrible feeling all morning—something felt terribly wrong. In the past, Henri has always returned my calls promptly. Even so, I hadn’t expected this. He was very experienced in dealing with sorcerers. You need to be extremely careful, Moira. Breaux knows you’re looking for him.”
My stomach ached, and my mind wouldn’t stop spinning. Did I get Henri killed?
After I hung up, I remained standing in the corner, trying to gather my thoughts. I grieved for Henri but I hadn’t known him well enough to know who was his next of kin.
Tears kept welling up, and I dried them with a handkerchief. Poor Henri. He’d given his life trying to help me and mine. Waves of guilt and misery washed through me. I contributed to his early death by asking him to take on such a dangerous mission for me.
Philippe and Dana approached me.
“Moira, what’s wrong?” My sister asked. “Your face is ashen, and your lips are trembling.”
I told them. She wrapped her arms around me and hugged me close. Tears poured out, and I couldn’t stop them. Poor, kind Henri.
It took a few minutes, but I regained my composure. We returned to Christina and the others.
“There’s been a terrible setb
ack in finding Cara,” I told everyone. “The detective Dana and I hired to find Breaux has been murdered. Apparently, he was caught tracking the son of a bitch who owns Cara. I’m not sure what this means for your work, Suong, but you should talk to your uncles about whether you want to be involved in such a dangerous project. I’m hoping you’ll at least continue to search for my mom.”
Her eyes opened wide, as did her mouth. “I’m very sorry to hear the news.” She gave me a hug. “I’ll talk things over with my family. Then we can talk about what’s best for you two and me.”
-o-o-o-
BACK AT THE Seabreeze Inn, I called the only landline phone number I had for Henri. A woman picked it up. I hated to break the terrible news over the phone, but I had no choice.
Instead of crying out, she said in a relatively calm voice, “That’s terrible. I don’t know Henri personally. This is just an answering service. I can forward a message to the private eye Henri shared an office with.”
A few minutes later, I received a call from a lawyer. “I handled all of Henri’s business issues and the few times he was arrested for drinking a bit too much.”
I explained the basic situation of how Henri represented me and Dana, leaving out the magic.
He sighed, “I’ve been worried that he was too aggressive. When I mentioned it, he always told me he had no one to mourn his passing, so it didn’t matter.”
That comment made me gasp. “My sister and I want to take care of whatever final arrangements he has expressed an interest in.”
“I did his will. He wanted to be cremated and buried at sea. I’ll take care of that. He wanted his remaining assets to be donated to the local animal shelter.”
I didn’t know how much we owed for the work he’d performed, but I made a high estimate and doubled it. “I’ll make a contribution of fifty thousand to the shelter in his name.”
After I hung up with the lawyer, Dana and I held our own little memorial service in a park overlooking the Pacific. He’d never been there, but because he liked the sea, it seemed appropriate.
-o-o-o-
WHEN WE RETURNED to the inn, I sat down with Ian and Gill in Ian’s office. After I relayed all I’d heard about Henri, I said, “Not sure what I should do next to find Cara and Mom. Quitting is not an option.” Another wave of sadness washed over me, and I wiped away more tears. “I’m still shocked.”
Relentless Page 12
