When in Bruges (Humorous Romantic Mystery) (19 page)

T
he only thing
Chris knew about Coleen, was that she was not exactly the friendliest person he’d ever associated with. From the meetings they’d both been in, he knew her as the perfect schoolmarm. The Coleen they met behind the waffle stand, therefore, came as something of a surprise to both Chris and Kate.

The moment she saw them approach, she surreptitiously waved, then ducked behind the waffle truck once again, glancing left and right for fear of being discovered. She gave them both a big grin—probably the first time Chris had ever seen her smile—and without advance warning started pouring her heart out.

“I’m so glad to see the two of you,” she said. Greeting Kate, she swung her fist, her eyes sparkling. “I loved what you did to Jeanie. The way that punch connected. Pow! Really admired your handiwork there.”

“Pity dad didn’t think so,” said Kate a little bitterly.

“Yeah, well, your dad’s an idiot,” said Coleen, then slung a hand across her mouth. “Sorry about that.”

“Well, no, you’re right,” said Kate with a grin. “My dad
is
an idiot. There’s no other word to describe him.”

Once again, Coleen threw worried glances left and right. “We really don’t want to be seen together,” she explained her furtive behavior.

“So, what did you want to see me about?” Chris said.

“Hock,” said Coleen. “I think he’s gone over to the dark side. Jeanie’s side, I mean. Last night, I wandered into the meeting room and caught them there, having a little tête-à-tête.”

“Kissing?” said Kate, puckering up her face in a ‘yuck’ expression.

“No, not kissing,” said Coleen. “Plotting.”

Chris wondered for a moment what two people plotting would look like, then decided to let Coleen finish her tale.

“They were sitting close together, whispering in the darkness, and from what I could make out before they realized they were no longer alone, they said something about finally getting even with the sons-of-bitches.”

“Sons-of-bitches?” said Kate.

“I instantly thought of the candidates,” said Coleen, “though I haven’t the foggiest why these two of all people would hold a grudge against them. God knows they’re idiots, but they’ve always done right by Jeanie and Hock.”

“I knew they were in this together,” said Kate, slamming her fist in the palm of her hand. “This is the proof we needed.” She turned to Coleen, a flush of excitement mantling her cheeks. God, she’d never looked prettier than in that instant, thought Chris, and if Coleen hadn’t been there, he’d have taken her in his arms and pressed a kiss on those cherry lips of hers. “You have to tell Jacques,” she said. “He’ll believe you.”

Even before Kate had finished speaking, Coleen was shaking her head vehemently. “I can’t,” she said.

“Why not? You’re his campaign manager. He’ll listen to you.”

“No, he won’t. He told me loudly and clearly this morning that he didn’t want to hear another word about Jeanie Geyser, neither from Chris nor from me.” She grimaced. “I’d started to broach the subject in the most careful terms possible, and he cut me right off. ‘Jeanie Geyser is off limits, Coleen,’ he said. ‘She’s a saint and an angel and as far as I’m concerned, the most amazing woman who ever lived, so not another word, you hear?’ Well, I shut up, of course.”

Kate sighed. “Why is it that men turn into idiots the moment they fall for some floozy?”

Chris would have defended his sex, had it not been for the fact that Kate was exactly right. Jeanie
was
a floozy, and the candidates
were
idiots. So he kept his mouth shut, and focused on the problem at hand.

“We think they’re going to strike tonight,” he said to Coleen. “And their weapon of choice is an exploding pipe.”

For a moment, Coleen didn’t speak, then she smiled, and before long, she was laughing like a hyena. “An exploding pipe!” she guffawed. “That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard!”

“Nevertheless it’s true,” Chris assured her. “They’re going to blow up our dads with an exploding pipe unless we stop them.”

Instantly, Coleen swallowed her laugh and hiccuped. “You’re serious?”

“I am.”

“We’re pretty sure that that’s the plan,” said Kate. “So how are we going to stop them?”

Coleen gulped, still trying to wrap her brain around the exploding pipe scheme. “Well, I guess I could sneak you in,” she said.

Kate grabbed her hand and pressed it warmly. “That would be great!”

“Hock has hired some outside security company to provide assistance. He’s letting me handle the specifics, so I don’t think it will be that hard to fit you in. I’ll need your sizes, though. I’ll tell the head of the outfit that I’m adding two of my own people.”

“Make that four,” Chris said. “Kirt and Lauren,” he added as an aside to Kate.

“Great thinking. Among the four of us, we should be able to prevent the attack,” said Kate.

“You know,” said Coleen, eyeing them both, “you could always call the police. Don’t you think they’re the ones who should be handling this?”

Kate shook her head decidedly. “They should be, if dad hadn’t gone and told the chief of police his daughter is driving him crazy with her lunatic conspiracy theories.”

“No, he didn’t,” said Coleen, aghast.

“Trust me, he did,” said Chris, who’d heard it from Kirt who’d heard it from Aldo who’d heard it from the horse’s mouth—the chief of police himself.

“Good thing my wedding is off,” said Kate bitterly. “I don’t think I would have invited dad to join us anyway.”

“I guess it’s up to us, then,” Chris said.

“Oh, please don’t let anything happen to the candidates,” implored Coleen. “I mean, they’re two old fools, but that doesn’t mean they deserve to die.”

“Don’t worry, Coleen,” Chris said. “We got this.”

Her worried smile touched his heart, but more than that, he wondered if they really did have this. After all, they were now up against two seasoned conspirators, who had their victims’ unconditional trust and support, while they considered the only people trying to save them a pair of lunatics.

Then Kate folded his hand in hers, and fixed him with those stunning green eyes of hers. “We’ve got this, Chris. We really do.”

Well, if she thought so…

A
fter Coleen left
, Chris and Kate sat behind the waffle cart a little while longer.

“You know, that letter you wrote me?”

“You mean my note?”

“I mean the letter. If that’s a note, Tolstoy’s
War and Peace
is a pamphlet.” She leaned against his shoulder. “I didn’t know you were such a poet.”

“Oh, well,” he said modestly. “When one’s heart is touched, words flow freely and easily, I guess.”

“Next time you have to leave in a hurry, just wake me up, will you? It will save us both a lot of trouble and heartache.”

“I know,” he said, pressing a kiss on the top of her head. “It’s just that you were sleeping so peacefully, I hadn’t the heart to disturb you. You looked like an angel who God had suddenly decided to bring into my life. Quite the miracle, I felt at the time.”

He gave her a look of so much affection, her heart trilled and, though she wasn’t a shy person, she cast down her gaze for a moment.

“Besides,” he said. “Now that I have your number, this kind of thing won’t happen again. If ever I get called away on an emergency, I’ll call you every hour on the hour, and send you love texts once a day and twice on Sunday.”

“I can’t wait,” she murmured. “I mean, not for you to be called away, but to receive your love texts.”

“I have one now, if you don’t mind,” he said.

She smiled and nestled herself into his lap. “Shoot.”

“Once upon a time there was a man and there was a woman.”

“I like the beginning,” she said.

“Shhhh. Don’t disturb the artist when he’s at work.”

“Sorry. Carry on, please.”

“The man was a copper on a very important assignment, and the woman, likewise, was an officer of the law. They fell in love and lived happily ever after. The end. Like it?”

“Um, I think I liked your letter better.”

“Honey?” he said sheepishly.

“Yes, darling?”

“I have a confession to make.”

“Don’t tell me. You
are
secretly enamored with Jeanie Geyser.”

“Never in my life!”

“Then what is it, light of my life? Poet of my heart? Weaver of wondrous words of worship?”

“I didn’t write that letter.”

She sat up with a jerk, bumping her head against Chris’s chin in the process. His teeth connected with a clack, and he shook his head, dazedly.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” she said, touching his face. “Did I hurt you?”

“You really have to stop beating me up, honey,” he lisped.

“You bit off your tongue! Oh, Chris!”

He grinned, and spoke in normal tones again. “Just kidding. I’m fine, really.”

She punched his chest. “You scared me!”

“Serves you right for head-butting me.”

“What about that letter?” she insisted. “If you didn’t write it, who did?”

“Well, actually my dad did,” he said.

“Your dad?” She frowned. “Now you’ve lost me.”

“It’s like this. I really wanted to write you a note to remember me by, but seeing as I’m not much of a writer myself, and I was in a terrible hurry, I decided to ‘borrow’ the letter my dad wrote to my mother before they were married. I found it tucked away in a book one day when I was snooping around in my parents’ library, and made a copy for myself.”

He looked away. “My parents’ marriage had been in trouble long before mom died, and as a young boy, I always hoped they’d find each other again one day. If not, I figured I’d present them with the letter that started it all, and maybe rekindle their long-lost romance.”

“Oh, darling, that’s so sweet of you.”

“Then, when I met you, I wanted to pour my heart out, but since I’m both tongue-tied and a lousy writer, I just figured I’d let my dad’s words work their magic a second time. Hopefully.”

“That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,” she said, touched.

“So did it work?” he said, a little uncertainly.

“Yes, it did,” she said, and never had she been more sure of her heart. “I love you, Chris Van Damme.”

“I just hope I won’t repeat the same mistakes my dad made,” he said. “That letter managed to win him my mother, but later in life he did his best to destroy what he once held sacred. And then she died and he lost her forever.”

“That won’t happen to us,” she assured him. “We can learn from our parents’ mistakes, and make sure that we don’t make the same ones.”

“I was actually holding on to this for a later date,” he said, and suddenly produced a small ring box from his pocket.

“Oh, Chris,” she said, suddenly feeling faint.

He opened it to reveal a delicate silver band with a single sapphire in the shape of a hummingbird. It was gorgeous.

“It’s just a placeholder,” he said. “I bought it for you in New York, actually, hoping to find something more fitting later on. But perhaps for now, it will do?”

“For now? Chris, I love this ring! It’s lovely!”

She sat up to try it on, and suddenly Chris went down on one knee before her on the cobblestones. She gasped, and her eyes went moist.

“Kate Harper,” he said earnestly, presenting her with the ring, “I’m not a poet or all that great with words, but I love you and have from the moment we met. Will you do me the honor of becoming—I mean, will you accept—Oh, crap. Kate Harper, will you please put me out of my misery and be my wife?”

“Yes, I will,” she said breathlessly, and he slid the ring onto her finger. It was a perfect fit, just like they were.

“Thank you,” he said brokenly, his eyes shining. He kissed her hand, then the inside of her wrist, then worked his way up along her arm until he finally reached her lips and impressed them with a tender, loving kiss.

They remained like that for a long time, the smell of waffles curling past their nostrils, kissing and laughing and talking and then starting all over again.

Finally, Chris sighed and looked at his watch. “What do you say we go and save us some dads? Would be awfully awkward if we got married and there was nobody to give you away, wouldn’t it?”

“That
would
be awkward,” she agreed. “Let’s go save the dads.”

“
I
really need
to find an office,” Chris complained when they entered the Perch for the umpteenth time since The Case of The Twelve began.

“I thought you had an office?” said Kate.

“A real office, I mean,” he said. “Mine is in my bedroom and I’m always embarrassed to receive customers.”

“What’s wrong with the Perch? I like the Perch.”

“I also like the Perch,” he said. “It’s my home away from home. But I can’t run an agency here. What will the customers think when half of Bruges listens in on the initial interview?”

She admitted he had a point there. It just doesn’t look professional when a private detective holds all his meetings in the most popular bar in town. For now, it would have to do, though. Since this was Chris’s first case—and his client had just fired him so he probably wasn’t even going to get paid—he really had no money to rent a bigger office.

Kirt and Lauren were eagerly awaiting their arrival, though from the sight of these two lovebirds, one could have mistaken them for two giggling teenagers instead of the assistant detectives they were.

“I have some news for you guys,” said Kate, and angled her finger so the light glinted off her engagement band.

Lauren was the first to catch on. “Oh my God!” she screamed. “You didn’t!”

“Yes, I did,” Kate said, and accepted a hug from her friend.

“Huh?” said Kirt, who seemed annoyed that his girlfriend had diverted her attention elsewhere. “What happened?”

“I proposed,” Chris said.

“You did what?” he said, still not getting the full picture.

“I asked Kate to be my wife,” he explained.

“And she accepted?” Kirt said dubiously.

Chris punched his friend’s shoulder. “A little more enthusiasm, buddy!”

Kirt gave him a fat chuckle. “Can’t believe little Chris Van Damme is getting married.”

Kate looked over. “Little?”

“When we were kids, I got my growth spurt first,” said Kirt, “so for a couple of months, I was a full head taller than Chris. So I used to call him little Chris. He didn’t like it.”

“Then I caught up and kicked his ass,” Chris added.

Now it was Kirt’s turn to grab his friend in a bear hug. “Congratulations, buddy,” he said, slapping his back. “Got a best man, yet?”

“I though I’d ask Aldo over here.”

“What’s that?” said Aldo, pricking up his ears at the mention of his name.

“Want to be best man at my wedding, Aldo?”

“How much do I get?”

“Nothing. It’s not a paying job, you dumb-ass.”

Aldo shook his head. “Sorry, Chris. Celina told me never to work for free.”

“Well,” said Chris, looking perplexed. “Guess I’ll have to ask you, then, Kirt.”

Kirt groaned in exasperation. To Kate, he said, “Are you sure you want this guy? He’s crazy, can’t you see?”

“I like crazy,” Kate said with a glint in her eyes.

“Oh, all right,” Kirt said. “I’ll be your best man, but only if you return the favor.”

Now it was Chris’s turn to say, “Huh?”

Kate’s jaw dropped when Lauren held out her hand, newly decorated with a beautiful silver band. “Oh, my God, Lauren!” she exclaimed.

“Looks like the wedding season is about to open,” Lauren said.

Chris grabbed Kirt’s head and gave him a knuckle rub. “You couldn’t tell me first?”

“I just proposed, man!” cried Kirt.

“Congrats, buddy,” Chris said.

“So it’s a deal?” he said. “We’re both best-manning each other’s wedding?”

“You bet. When’s the happy occasion?”

“Haven’t picked a date yet. First let’s get this whole political thing out of the way, shall we?”

“Let’s,” Chris agreed.

“Speaking of which, we have some news.”

“Yes, we have,” said Lauren. “News that will knock you sideways.”

“Let’s have it,” Kate said.

“Hock?” said Kirt, dropping his voice. “Is Jeanie Geyser’s brother.”

“What?” exclaimed both Kate and Chris in unison.

“Yup,” said Lauren. “They’re both Wallace Pruym’s kids. Hock changed his name, that’s why we didn’t discover this sooner.”

Chris’s eyes swiveled to the corner of the bar, where Genaro Rowlock was sitting in his usual place. As he got up, the others eyed him curiously.

“Where are you going, buddy?” said Kirt.

“I just had an idea,” said Chris. “Be right back.”

Genaro looked up as Chris approached.

“Mind if I join you?” said Chris.

The old man indicated the bar stool next to him, and Chris took a seat.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask,” Chris began.

“Oh? What’s that?”

“You know I’m in the detective business these days?”

“Sure I do. Good for you, son. I’m sure you’ll be great at it.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” Chris said. “But thanks. What I wanted to ask was…”

Genaro nodded. “Let me guess. Wallace Pruym?”

“How did you know?”

Genaro grinned. “I hear things.”

“What do you know about him?”

“Well, for one thing, Wallace hates both his current and his ex-employer’s guts with a vengeance. First he got badly injured when your dad fell on top of him…”

“I remember,” Chris said.

“Then the theater closed because of budget cuts, and he lost his wife. Then the fish shop closed.”

“The fish shop?”

“Wallace loves fish. At the time there was a gourmet seafood specialty shop in town, but then Peeters decided to raise taxes and the place went belly up along with a couple of others.” He fixed Chris with a penetrating stare. “Wallace really
loved
that fish shop.”

“Okay,” Chris said, wondering where Genaro was going with this.

“And then there was the statue.”

“Statue?”

“The previous administration erected a statue of Jacques Van Damme directly in front of Wallace’s house. Each and every morning, when Wallace opens his bedroom drapes, he finds himself staring straight into the face of the man who ruined his life. It’s enough to drive anyone over the edge.” He shrugged. “All in all I can name at least twelve grievances Wallace told me about over the years.”

Chris sat up as if stung. “Twelve?”

Genaro nodded. “At least.”

“The twelve,” murmured Chris. “So it was Wallace all along.”

“I guess so,” Genaro said. His face wrinkled into what Chris assumed was a smile, and he held out his hand. “By the way, congratulations on your wedding, son. Unlike her dad, Kate’s a great gal.”

“How did you know?” Chris said, surprised. “I just proposed an hour ago.”

Genaro gave him a cheeky wink. “Like I said, I hear things.” Then he cleared his throat. “I suggest if you want her old man to give her away, you better save his ass first, huh?”

“Thanks, Genaro,” Chris said. “I might just do that.”