Darkwater Lies Read online

  “I do not think Luca would know this security guard of yours.” All of Katerina’s tears ceased flowing as she looked at Addy.

  “You didn’t know Rubin knew Jackson, did you?” Addy asked.

  Katerina frowned and shook her head. “No, I did not.”

  “Then maybe Luca knows Jackson, too, and you don’t know that. Won’t you just ask him?” Addy thought it was a simple enough request, but perhaps she’d misread the situation.

  Edmond patted Katerina’s knee. “Since this is official questioning, by the police, perhaps there should be a legal representative for Luca, my dear?”

  Katerina nodded. “Yes. I think that would be best.” She shook her head at Luca, who continued to stare at the group after hearing his name, then smiled at Addy. “To make sure there is no misunderstandings with the translations or anything.”

  Well . . . she had a point. Kinda.

  Marcel gave a hard nod. “Perhaps you should arrange to have such a representative available here. Later today.”

  “So quickly?” Katerina’s big blue eyes widened again.

  Beau nodded. “The quicker we have all the facts, the quicker we can solve the case and possibly recover your missing sapphire.”

  “It’s not missing, Detective.” Edmond stood. “It was stolen from the hotel’s safe that we had been assured was quite secure.”

  Addy’s heartbeat kicked into overdrive and she opened her mouth to apologize again, but Dimitri touched her arm and took a small step to be in front of her, just barely. “On behalf of the Darkwater Inn, I apologize to you, Princess Katerina. We will do everything possible to recover what was taken from you. We will adjust our insurance claim to ensure that as soon as our insurance company receives the final police report, they will have the estimate and appraisal in their hand. We are, of course, sickened by what has happened and hope that you know we will work alongside the police until the case is solved.”

  The corner of Addy’s lip tingled in the beginnings of a smile, but she pressed her lips together. The testosterone in the room had become nearly stifling, but since most was released in order to stand up for her, Addy could breathe just fine.

  19

  Dimitri

  “I don’t take well to threats.”

  Dimitri froze outside his father’s office, recognizing his father’s tone all too well. Who on earth would be threatening Claude Pampalon in his own hotel?

  “It’s not a threat, I can promise you. We had a business deal.”

  “It’s beyond my control that I no longer have it.” The anger shook Claude’s voice. “Trust me, I want to sell it to you more than you realize.”

  “Then you should reacquire it.”

  Dimitri could almost recognize the other man’s voice. Just not quite.

  “Don’t you think I’m trying to do just that?”

  “We have an auction lined up. We’ve invited various interested buyers. If we cancel, it will be damaging to our reputations.”

  An auction? Buyers? What had his father gotten into now?

  “I’m working to recover it as best I can. I’ve even had a private investigator hired in an attempt to recover it before the police do.”

  Dimitri felt ill. He’d been an unknowing pawn in his father’s nefarious scheme, and it made him so angry he could spit nails. But what was his father’s plan? What was he doing?

  “Yes, the police are better than I thought they would be. I was very surprised they recovered Katerina’s tiara. I only wish they had acted faster in that aspect to have prevented the biggest stone from being replaced.”

  Dimitri sucked in air. The other voice was Edmond Jansen!

  “The theft was certainly at the most awful time.”

  “Are you sure about that, Claude?”

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  “It seems very coincidental that your hotel would be robbed when the princess’s tiara was in there, along with the vase and flowers.”

  Claude’s voice lowered to the point where Dimitri had to lean closer to the closed office door. “Are you implying that I had anything to do with the theft? If what the police have discovered is accurate, your country’s private guard was involved in the robbery.”

  “Along with your hotel’s guard. Our guard was murdered by yours during the course of the robbery.”

  “And our guard was murdered as well. At least the crown has been recovered.”

  “As I understand was your cash.”

  Dimitri moved away from the door as one of the office administrators made her way past the offices, heading to the lobby. As soon as she turned the corner, he moved back to listen again.

  Claude cleared his throat. “Be that as it may, Edmond, I’m doing everything I can to recover it so I can sell it to you.”

  “Our auction goes live Saturday night. We’ll need those poppies in hand before then.”

  “I said I’m doing the best that I can.”

  “If your best isn’t getting it done, Claude, perhaps you should do something else. Whatever it takes. My father will not be pleased if we have to cancel the auction. He’ll be furious.”

  “I said I’m handling it.” Claude spoke from behind clenched teeth.

  Dimitri could picture his father now: face red, veins bulging, jaw locked with the muscles popping. Controlled fury at its best.

  “Are the police aware it was stolen?”

  “No, of course not. I’ve gone on record that nothing of mine, aside from the hotel’s cash on hand, was stolen.”

  “I heard tell that Ms. Fountaine claims differently. Could she have seen it?”

  “No. She saw the pouch it was in but has no idea what was in it. There’s no way anyone knows, or could even guess.” Claude’s tone had lifted a little.

  Dimitri straightened in the hallway. His father sounded nervous. Maybe even a little scared. It was hard to tell because Claude was never nervous or scared, not that anyone could ever tell. Either way, it sent icy fingers down Dimitri’s spine.

  “I would hope not. For your sake, I hope you recover the vase and flowers soon.”

  “Don’t you worry about it. I’ve spoken with the private investigator I hired to keep tabs on our independent person. My man understands the importance of reacquiring it with no one being the wiser that it was ever taken.” Claude’s voice was back to normal.

  Yet Dimitri’s gut was twisted into a tight blob. He’d been set up to play into his father’s plan, whatever that was. How had he not seen it from the beginning? His father had hired someone to keep tabs on Rodney Ardoin after Dimitri had hired him? Adelaide had been right all along. His father had had something in the safe that was taken. Whatever he’d had stolen, he was desperate to get it back.

  Dimitri moved to the other side of the hallway as one of the ladies in reservations smiled at him. He nodded at her as she passed him in the hallway. He waited until she’d turned out of his line of vision and moved back to his spot outside his father’s office door.

  Edmond’s voice split the silence. “Let’s see to it that it stays that way. I would hate for this deal to go south at this point because of one woman.”

  “Don’t you worry about Ms. Fountaine. I have that situation well under control. She won’t be a problem for us.”

  “If you don’t make sure, I will.”

  Dimitri’s hands balled into fists of their own accord. “I said I have it handled.”

  “Then I’ll look forward to hearing you’ve got the item in hand before Saturday night.” Edmond Jansen’s voice was louder, closer to the door.

  Dimitri took a few steps back. It wouldn’t do for him to get caught eavesdropping or just hanging out in the hallway. No, that didn’t look suspicious at all.

  “Take the bull by the horns, son,” Claude had always said. No better time than the present.

  He sucked in air, tapped his knuckles twice on the wood door, pushed it open, and then stepped inside. “Fath—oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had someone in here. I’ll
come back later. Please, excuse me.” He moved to turn.

  “No, it’s okay.” His father stood up from behind his desk. “Mr. Jansen just came by to let me know how the police questioned him and the princess, as well as her staff.” He frowned that disapproving scowl he wore so often. “I’ve offered our apologies and have pledged to assist them in a smoother experience from here on out.”

  Edmond cut his eyes to Claude, then nodded.

  “Our conversation just ended, and he was just leaving.” No mistaking the arrogance and authority in Claude’s voice now. If Dimitri hadn’t heard what he had, he wouldn’t have believed Edmond Jansen had not only just threatened Claude Pampalon but bullied him as well.

  And Claude hadn’t been able to stop him.

  Edmond paused for a moment, then gave Dimitri a hard look before brushing past him on the way out.

  Claude let out a hard breath and sat back down in his leather executive’s chair behind his overstated mahogany desk. “While your timing was perfect this time, Dimitri, I’m quite busy. What did you want?”

  He needed to make sure his father didn’t guess he’d overheard the conversation between him and Edmond. “I just came to fill you in on the case. The police gave us an update earlier, and I wanted to let you know.”

  “Mr. Jansen informed me the police recovered the crown from Jackson Larder’s home, but had a jewel replaced. Our fifty thousand in cash was also recovered from Jackson’s house, and a link has been determined between the princess’s guard who was killed and our guard who was also murdered. The police had questioned him and the princess and plan to question her remaining guard. Is that about what you were going to tell me?”

  “Pretty much. The police said they would be able to release the fifty thousand cash to us within a few days.” Dimitri nodded, silently amazed at his father’s ability to switch gears so quickly. Talent, or habit?

  “Then if there’s nothing else . . .” Claude looked up from his desk. “I have an appointment outside the hotel this afternoon and I must finish up some things here before I go.”

  “Of course.” Dimitri turned and headed toward the door, but stopped. “Father . . .”

  Claude sighed and stared at Dimitri. “Yes?”

  “I’m not sure what is going on with you and Lissette, but—”

  “There’s nothing going on. She is trying to do everything she can to please me in hopes that I will continue to employ her after she turns twenty-four.” Claude shook his head. “Yes, Dimitri, I can see by the look on your face that you’ve consulted with your little law friend and learned that I can, and most likely will, oust Ms. Bastien from this hotel and my life in mere months.”

  “But Father—”

  Claude held up a hand. “Please do not insult me, Dimitri, by attempting to sell me on her attributes. As far as I can tell, she has none, just as her mother before her. There was a reason her mother meant nothing to me, why Lissette doesn’t either. So please, do not try and justify her existence.”

  Dimitri couldn’t even find the words.

  “You’d do well to realize, my son, that crossing me is not in your best interest. Or in the best interest of Ms. Fountaine.”

  “Father, she—”

  “Don’t apologize for her. At least her I can respect, because she believed something and stood up for that, even if she was wrong.” Claude lifted his monogram-engraved pen from his desk. “I’ll have to discuss respect with her, especially in front of other hotel staff, of course.”

  That sounded an awful lot like she wouldn’t be fired.

  “I believe she’s done a good job here, so I’m willing to overlook this one lack of good judgment on her part. For now. We shall see how I feel after we speak.” Claude dropped the pen back onto his desk. “If there’s nothing else, Dimitri, I do need to finish up here so I won’t be late to my meeting.”

  Not trusting himself to speak, Dimitri just left. Adelaide’s position, for now, was secure. He just had to figure out a way to get Lissette settled, then work through whatever kind of jealousy she had going on about Adelaide.

  Beau

  “What do you make of the whole ‘crown valued at millions’ thing?” Marcel leaned back in his chair at the precinct and took a sip of coffee.

  Beau shook his head. “I’m not into jewels and their worth, and I have no reason to disbelieve anything Orlov said, so I guess it’s worth millions.”

  “What about it being part of the Romanov family jewels? Would be kind of neat if it was. I mean, that we’ve seen it and actually touched it and all.”

  Beau grinned at his partner. “I guess so.” He glanced back to his notes. “Still, it seems odd.”

  “What does?”

  “Well, we know Larder didn’t have a lot of time.”

  Marcel shrugged. “He shoved the cash in a drawer. That doesn’t take a lot of time. Or planning.”

  “But the missing sapphire. He not only got it out, but he had an imitation that would fit it on hand to replace it then wrap the tiara in a trash bag and duct tape it to the lid of his grill?”

  “Hey, man, we’ve seen stranger things. He’d been talking to Hassler, planning it, so he probably had the right size piece of glass that he knew would fit.”

  Made sense. “Yeah.” But it didn’t feel right to him. Something was still off. Something he was missing.

  “The money in the drawer . . . I don’t think the security people knew the hotel kept such an amount of cash on hand. He opened the safe and probably figured it was a bonus and never told anybody else.”

  “Yeah, but that still doesn’t tell us who killed him.” Beau flipped through his notes. “He and Hassler plan everything weeks before, so everything goes off without a hitch: the hack, getting into the vault, all of that. Something happens to change the status quo. Either Larder plans the double cross or something happens in the vault— who knows, maybe they saw the cash and Larder didn’t want to share with Hassler or something, but for whatever reason, Larder shoots and kills not only his coworker, but also his partner.”

  Marcel nodded and set down his mug. “Larder grabs the cash and the tiara and scrams. He heads home. He’s already got the fake sapphire ready to switch out.” He snapped his finger and pointed at Beau. “Maybe that’s why he killed Hassler. Maybe they’d planned to sell it back to the princess all along, but Larder got greedy and decided to take the sapphire first, then sell it to the princess. He cuts Hassler out of the decision. He stashes the cash in a drawer and makes the switch, then secures the crown.”

  Beau nodded. “Let’s say Larder planned to call Jansen and offer back the crown, but didn’t plan to do it until the next day. He was supposed to go to work that morning. Maybe he wanted to see how the investigation was going before he did that. If there was too much heat, he could just sell off the stones of the crown, one jewel at a time.”

  “But someone killed him first. Who?”

  “That’s the million-dollar question.”

  “Or millions, as the case may be.”

  Beau flipped through his notes again. “I can’t see there being another person involved in the setup. Larder clearly didn’t see this coming any more than Hassler saw Larder killing him.”

  “Wouldn’t it be a killer coincidence if whoever killed Larder had nothing to do with the crown at all?” Marcel took a sip of coffee.

  Ding!

  Beau turned to his computer. “Message from Nolan.” He clicked to open his interoffice messaging system. “Prelim forensics report is in.” He scanned through the information. “Still waiting on autopsy from Walt.” He kept reading. “Fingerprints at the scene belonged primarily to Larder. A single thumbprint was found on the wooden footboard in the bedroom where the body was discovered.” His heart and gut collided as he continued reading. “The print has been identified through an Interpol connection as belonging to one Luca Vogt, who is in the employment of members of the royal family of Liechtenstein.”

  Marcel nearly knocked over his coffee cup. “The
y’ll either ask him now, or we’ll haul him down here to ask him.”

  “I’ll call the embassy for advisement and to keep them in the loop as requested, then I’ll bring the captain up to speed.”

  Marcel nodded. “I’ll go ahead and request a German interpreter be ready. Just in case the princess doesn’t want to ask him questions without a representative.”

  Beau dialed the number for the embassy, his pulse pounding.

  They were about to get answers.

  One way or another.

  20

  Addy

  The sun set over the New Orleans’ Basin City Projects, casting the last tendrils of shadows like eerie skeleton fingers reaching out to grab those who passed by the darkening alleys.

  Addy shivered against the cooling breeze snaking over the area. Basin Street wasn’t a place to be for a woman after dark, but the message she’d found on her desk had said Claude was adamant as to where they were to meet promptly at six. Surely this couldn’t be the area where Mr. Pampalon was considering opening a small bed and breakfast. Addy double-checked the address with the GPS on her phone. No mistake, this was it.

  Addy got out of her car, making sure to lock it, and looked around. She held her cell phone in a death grip as she made a slow circle in place, right next to her car, taking it all in.

  A couple of teenage boys stood across the lot from her, the ends of their cigarettes blazing against the darkness. A radio thumped from a car passing on the street. A good block or three away a siren wailed. A woman down the street screamed, then laughed. Angry male voices carried on the wind.

  Claude Pampalon had lost his mind. There was no way any type of legitimate business could succeed here. It might only be one block inland from the Quarter, but it ran parallel to Rampart Street, and as soon as that was crossed from either side of Canal Street, it was officially the bad part of town.

  Basin Street, sometimes still referred to by older locals by its French name, Rue Bassin, had at one time been considered one of the finest residential streets in New Orleans. Around 1870, though, it became a red-light district, maintaining that status through World War I. It had housed the front of the Storyville red-light district, home to a line of high-end saloons and manors devoted to music.