Voodoo, Lies, and Murder

by Sibel Hodge

  "I heard there were problems in getting the planning permission and site for it. You paid over the odds for the land, didn't you?"

  "In this kind of business, you win some and you lose some. I wasn't going to lose out on this project, so I had to increase my offer for the site to stop Sage Developments obtaining it." He crossed his legs and wiped away an imaginary piece of fluff. "We'll still be able to make a significant amount of profit, even though we paid more than we anticipated." He waved a dismissive hand. "That's just business."

  "But it was touch and go whether you'd get planning permission for it, wasn't it? After you'd sunk all your money into it, didn't that cause you a lot of worry?"

  "We always consult the planning department before we invest in a plot of land. They gave us the initial go-ahead for our City Park project, but, of course, when people begin to complain, like Alfie Cross and his friends, the council has to do an in-depth enquiry and things take longer than anticipated. But I have a habit of getting what I want, Ms. Fox." He gave me an arrogant smile.

  "Is that why you stole from Chantal's trust fund? Because you just wanted it?" I sat back and waited for his reaction. I didn't have to wait long. The smile dropped off his face quicker that you could say busted!

  At least he had the good grace to look ashamed as his cheeks flushed and sweat broke out on his upper lip.

  He took a deep breath before speaking. "That was only a temporary thing. We had some big backers pull out because of all the problems and delays surrounding the City Park Complex, so I did what I had to do to save the company. If I hadn't used Chantal's money, we'd be heading toward bankruptcy by now." He rubbed at his forehead. "Since we got the planning permission two weeks ago, we've managed to win back a lot of the investors. With their substantial cash injection, I would've been able to pay the money back into Chantal's trust fund before anyone found out." He leaned forward on his elbows, eyes pleading. "This has got nothing to do with Chantal's disappearance, I swear to you. You have to believe me. I love my daughter. I've never done anything to hurt her."

  I took in his now slumped shoulders and watery eyes. He looked like he'd aged ten years in about two minutes. I thought about what he'd said. Did I believe this had nothing to do with Chantal going missing? If she hadn't disappeared no one would've been investigating James Langton and his company, so no one would've been any the wiser that he'd been dipping into the trust fund. No, it didn't make sense for him to be involved. In fact, it was very inconvenient for James that Chantal had gone missing and his little indiscretion with her trust fund had been discovered. He must've known when she disappeared that people would start looking into his finances and the theft would've been discovered. It was actually in his best interests that the whole matter stayed hidden, so any possible motive to get rid of Chantal had taken a nosedive straight out the nearest window. Plus, I was convinced the key to this case was more about the story Liza had been working on, and in turn, what Chantal had also discovered. I just didn't have a clue what that was yet.

  "Actually, I do believe you," I said.

  He closed his eyes for a moment and exhaled a deep sigh. "Thank you."

  "What about Sage Developments? Do you think they could be holding a grudge against you because of the City Park Complex?"

  He shook his head. "They weren't happy when I finally managed to acquire the City Park site, but they're not likely to do anything to Chantal. They're respectable businessmen, not the mafia."

  "You've had to lay some people off recently. I heard that Philip Gates threatened you. Do you think he could've had something to do with Chantal's disappearance?"

  "I think Philip was just distraught about losing his job. The pressure of having a new baby and no job got to him, and he just snapped and lost his temper. I didn't take his threats seriously. And, anyway, a few weeks ago he was offered a better job in Ireland and he moved his family out there. He left the country before Chantal went missing."

  "How about Alfie Cross, who ran the campaign to try and get it stopped? Did you ever receive any personal threats from him?"

  Another headshake. "No. And I understand he has an alibi for the time Chantal went missing."

  While that was true, it didn't rule out Alfie getting a friend or associate to help him. "I think Chantal had a brief relationship with someone after she split up with Steven Shaw. Do you know who this man could be?"

  "No. As I said before, I didn't know she was seeing anyone. The way she'd been acting lately, she wasn't in a fit state to have a relationship. She never spoke about a new boyfriend."

  "Apparently she received a delivery of flowers here a few weeks ago. Do you know who sent them?"

  He pursed his lips together, thinking. "No. I don't remember any flower deliveries—but, of course, I'm out of the office a lot of the time. She certainly didn't bring any flowers back to the house with her."

  I pulled out the list Brad had found in Chantal's apartment. "Does this mean anything to you? I think they're initials and dates."

  He studied the list, eyebrows knitted together. "I'm sorry, it doesn't mean a thing to me."

  I gave him the list of phone numbers and names Liza and Chantal had called. "How about this? Do you recognize any of these names?"

  More concentration before he finally shook his head. "No. I wish I could help. I just want to find her."

  "Have you ever heard of the Second Chance Clinic or the Holbrook Clinic?"

  "No. Do you think Chantal might've gone there?"

  "That's what I have to find out. The Second Chance Clinic deals with family planning. It's a free clinic, providing contraception, checkups, and terminations. I'm not sure yet what the Holbrook Clinic does."

  "She…" He paused. "Chantal was depressed, but she wasn't physically ill. And she couldn't have been pregnant." He stared off into the distance. "Could she?"

  "It's possible. We found a pregnancy test in her bedroom."

  James gasped. "And this could be why she went missing?"

  "I don't know yet."

  "God, if she'd just told us she was pregnant we would've given her the emotional support she needed. Why just run off without telling us? It's completely out of character."

  "I don't think she did run off. She didn't take any real amount of money from her bank account, she left a lot of clothes both at your house and her apartment, and her passport wasn't missing. Liza was working on a big story at the time she disappeared. I think Chantal managed to find out what it was about, and because of that, she's gone missing, too. Somehow, I think it relates to these two clinics. And there's more."

  He glanced up.

  "Chantal was seen at Marie's house recently. And Marie's son, Andrew Scott, is a doctor who works at the Second Chance Clinic."

  "Shit." He rubbed his hands over his face. "Marie is bad news. She's evil. Nicole will be devastated when she finds out Marie has seen Chantal. Nicole always wanted to protect Chantal from the bad side of voodoo. Nicole hasn't spoken to Marie since she found out she was using her powers for vicious things instead of helping people. I've never met Andrew. I didn't even know he was a doctor." A pained expression settled on his face. "Do you think they've done something to Chantal and Liza?"

  "I'm pretty sure they're involved somehow, and I'm going to do everything I can to find out."

  He nodded slowly, eyes barely registering what I'd said.

  I stood up. "I need to ask the staff some questions. Is that okay?"

  He regained his composure and stood. "Of course. Let me introduce you to my business partner, Elliot, first. And then you're welcome to question the rest of the staff."

  I followed James out of the office and along the corridor. Farther down, another door opened and a man came out. "Ah, James, I was just coming to see you. I need a quick chat about one of the contractors on the City Park project."

  "Elliot, I'd like you to meet Amber Fox. She's investigating Chantal's disappearance."

  Elliot was in his early forties, and good looking—if yo
u liked the polished, immaculate look. Perfectly gelled hair, manicured nails, eyebrows that were just too tidy to be natural. Wax or tweezers, I wondered? I was leaning more toward wax. The only thing detracting from his flawless appearance was the puffiness under his eyes. Allergies? A cold? Or tears?

  Elliot shook my hand. "Please have a seat in my office." He motioned to the door behind him. "I'll be there in a moment."

  James and Elliot walked toward James's office.

  I entered Elliot's office, which was much the same as James's, including the model of City Park. Leaning over his desk, which was scattered with handwritten notes and plans, I perused the plans for City Park, then wandered over to the model of the complex in the center of the room and walked around it. It even had little model people in the communal garden of the site, sunbathing and walking their dogs. It was an impressive site, but one that had no place in a residential area of historical properties. The existing properties would lose their light and privacy—not to mention their road would be chock-a-block with cars and noise from City Park. This kind of development would be much more at home on the outskirts of town. No wonder Alfie and Co. weren't happy about it.

  I was peering closer at the model when my brain suddenly registered something I'd seen on Elliot's desk.

  I rushed back to check, grabbing a handwritten memo that was written to the office supplies department from Elliot, studying it intensely. I pulled out a copy of the love letter to Chantal from my rucksack and compared the writing. It was a match. I quickly replaced the memo where I'd found it.

  One mystery solved. How many more to go?

  Well, well, well. Elliot had slept with Chantal. Did he know she was pregnant? Was Elliot married? And, even more important, was there a reason he would want Chantal to disappear?

  Elliot's return interrupted my thoughts. "We're all desperate to find Chantal," he said as he sat down. "I wish I knew something that might help you find her."

  "Cut the crap." I verbally pounced on him. Chantal's life could be at stake here, and I was getting pissed off with people hiding stuff and lying to me. Plus, I was having severe chocolate withdrawal, which was about as much fun as a root-canal treatment. The things a girl has to go through to make sure she looks good on her wedding day! "You slept with Chantal. You were in love with her. You've obviously hidden that fact from James and Nicole. What else are you hiding?"

  Elliot's jaw dropped open. "How…how did you know?"

  I took the letter out again and read it out loud. "'Chantal, I am extremely sorry you won't return my calls. That night was never a mistake for me, you have to believe me. I've loved you for a long time, and I will continue to love you, no matter what. I promise I will not pressure you into anything. I am here for you when you need me. Lovingly yours. Big kiss.'" I looked up to see his reaction. "So, what happened, Elliot? You took advantage of her when she was vulnerable because of her depression about Liza's disappearance? Or wouldn't you take no for an answer when she didn't want to see you anymore? You were obsessed with her, weren't you? Did you think if you couldn't have her then you'd make sure no one else could, either? Where is she?" I bombarded him with questions, hoping to rattle him.

  His skin had turned the color of a clammy piece of cod. He flopped forward, hands covering his face. "No, no, no. You've got it wrong. I'd never do anything to hurt her. I love her. And I…I think she was carrying my child."

  "What do you mean, you think?"

  "I followed her…to a clinic that carries out terminations."

  "You mean you were stalking her?"

  He dropped his hands and looked up at me, eyes strained with despair. "Look, I know how that sounds, but it wasn't like that at all. I just wanted to make sure she was okay."

  "I think you'd better start at the beginning." I sat back and folded my arms.

  "Chantal started working here a few years ago after she finished her architecture degree. We got on right away and we worked closely together, so we spent a lot of time in meetings, working long hours in close proximity, and grabbing late dinners at the office. The friendship grew and we became close, but I didn't want to make a move on her. She was twenty-five, twenty years younger than I was, and she was my partner's daughter. She was also seeing Steven Shaw." His voice cracked at the mention of Steven's name. "I fell in love with her but she didn't know. Not right away. When Liza disappeared, Chantal was distraught, obviously. She couldn't concentrate on work properly. She became withdrawn and sad. She was trying to get the planning permission sorted out for City Park Complex, as well, which was giving us a lot of problems, and everything seemed to be getting on top of her." He glanced down at a spot on the floor, as if remembering the details. "One night we were both working late and she came into my office to ask a question. She broke down, crying, saying she had to find out what happened to Liza. We had a long chat and I managed to get her in a more positive mood. She said she could do with a drink and we ended up sharing a couple of bottles of wine. Then in the heat of the moment, I kissed her. One thing let to another and…" He trailed off, embarrassed.

  "Did James know about it?" I asked.

  He shook his head. "I never told him. I was worried about how he would react to a forty-five-year-old man sleeping with his daughter."

  Really? Ya think?

  "And I know Chantal wouldn't have told him," he went on. "It seemed like she wanted to forget it had happened at all."

  "Did you know James was dipping into Chantal's trust fund?"

  "What?" His eyebrows pinched together in surprise. "Are you sure?"

  "Absolutely."

  "Well…I'm…shocked and surprised about that."

  And he did look genuinely shocked and surprised, unless he was an Oscar-winning actor, and I didn't think so. He was definitely telling me the truth.

  So Elliot had been lying to James about his feelings for Chantal and James had been lying to Elliot about where the money was coming from for their latest investment. It didn't seem to bode well for a future business arrangement.

  "I mean, we'd been having a lot of financial problems lately and the company was only just keeping afloat. James was injecting cash into the business, but he told me it came from his private finances until we could get some investors back on board."

  "When did you sleep with her?"

  "It happened four weeks ago. I don't think I'll ever forget the date. She'd never looked more beautiful to me. I told her I was in love with her and we…we ended up making love." He glanced up at me. "I didn't mean to take advantage of her. It was something that just happened and…well, as you know from the letter, it was never a mistake for me."

  "But it was for her?" I prodded gently.

  "The next day she told me we couldn't get involved with each other. She said her head wasn't in a good place."

  "Did you send her flowers to the office?"

  "Yes. I was hoping I might get her to change her mind about us, but she didn't."

  "So you started stalking her?"

  Maybe there was a thin line between loving her and stalking her. Wasn't there a song about that? No, hang on a sec, that was "Thin Line Between Love and Hate." Still, both of them were probably true.

  "No. I told you, it wasn't like that. I was worried about her. The police couldn't even find out what happened to Liza. I was worried that if Chantal started looking for her, something bad might happen. I only followed her a few times to make sure she was safe."

  "Which clinic did you follow her to?"

  "It's a place called the Second Chance Clinic. Just before she went missing, Chantal went there. I knew that they did abortions and I suspected she was carrying my child because whenever she was in the office in the mornings she kept throwing up, and one day I caught sight of a pregnancy test in her handbag. But before I got the chance to ask her about it, she disappeared." He looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head. "I need to find her."

  "Where else did you follow her to?"

  "The only other place she went out of the
ordinary was Chequer Street."

  "Chequer Street?" Chequer Street was a hangout for prostitutes. What would Chantal have been doing there?

  "Yes. She talked to one of the street ladies for a few minutes and then went back to James and Nicole's house."

  My brain went into shrieking mode. Chantal was tied into the Second Chance Clinic by the business card hidden in her teddy bear, although Hacker found no records of her being a patient. The Second Chance Clinic had a lot of prostitutes who were patients. Chantal was talking to a prostitute. Chantal and Liza had also phoned the clinic before they disappeared. Something was going on at that place and I needed to find out what.

  CHAPTER NINE

  The Second Chance Clinic was housed in an old Victorian building. With the help of government funding, it had been modernized about twenty years ago into a bright and airy clinic on the edge of town, but by now it was looking tired and dated again. With all the money that Chantal's family had, I found it hard to believe she would choose this facility to have a termination.

  The entrance had an intercom system. I pressed the button and waited for someone to answer as I peeked through the windows.

  "Second Chance Clinic, can I help you?" a female voice answered.

  "I'm here to see Dr. Scott," I said.

  "And your name is?"

  "Amber Fox. I made an appointment."

  The door made a buzzing sound.

  "Okay, come in, please."

  I pulled open the door and strode to the reception desk, where a middle-aged woman sat. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail so tight it was almost giving her a facelift, and her eyes had a constant look of surprise.

  "Take a seat, please. Dr. Scott will be with you shortly." She nodded to a row of plastic chairs opposite the desk, where a young woman was sitting. From her short skirt, which was little more than a belt, heels so high she'd get a hip displacement if she wasn't careful, and makeup that would need an industrial paint scraper to get it off, it was pretty safe to say she was a prostitute.