When in Bruges (Humorous Romantic Mystery) (2 page)

A
fter she’d finished unpacking
, Kate decided to have a quick lie down. For some reason it was always hard for her to sleep on a plane, and while Lauren had been snoring away like a full-featured chainsaw, she’d been wide awake throughout the flight, going over the wedding preparations, and more importantly, playing out every possible scenario of her first meeting with dad.

It was safe to say she was more than a little nervous about what would happen when they finally did meet. Would they get along? Would he treat her like a long-lost daughter or a total stranger? She really had no idea, though the initial contact had been favorable. She’d suggested they Skype, but apparently he’d never heard of the technology. Fortunately, he did know how to email, so at least there was that. He even had a Facebook page and Twitter account, though Kate was quite sure he wasn’t personally involved. Probably an assistant took care of the social media angle.

Her head had just hit the pillow when a loud banging sound had her groaning in despair. Checking the bedside clock, she saw to her surprise she’d slept at least twenty minutes. The banging continued, and she sat up, feeling grumpy and moody.

“What the hell?” she murmured, rubbing her eyes.

The door flew open and Lauren entered, looking equally dismayed and flustered. She had bed wrinkles on her left cheek, her eyes were half-lidded, and her hair was plastered to her face on the wrinkly side. She’d clearly been fast asleep, just like Kate.

“What’s with the noise!” Lauren cried. Then, searching Kate’s room with the one eye that was open as she made valiant attempts to open the other one, she finally deduced the banging wasn’t coming from here.

“Next door,” Kate mumbled, and they both stumbled to the door like two zombies in search of brains—something that had always surprised Kate: why
are
zombies hungry for brains? Why not roast chicken or a nice parmesan salad?

Out in the hallway, they both pricked up their ears, trying to pinpoint the exact source of the infuriating racket. It appeared to be coming from the room next to Kate’s, which would explain the sensation she’d had of being knocked upside the head.

The door to the room—according to the sign called the Orchid Room—was closed, and without bothering to knock—whoever was doing this hadn’t asked their permission either—they simply barged in.

“Could you please keep this infernal noise down?” Kate exclaimed, then suddenly recognized the occupant of the room, and her face fell.

A man was standing on a stepladder, hammer in hand, and was about to give a nail he’d been driving into the wall another good wallop when he saw Kate, and his eyes widened considerably. He was a handsome man; all thick, curly hair, blue eyes, square jaw and a body to die for. But more than that, he was the man who broke her heart six months ago in the Royal Metropolitan hotel in New York, when he’d walked out on her after giving her the best night of her life.

“Chris!” she exclaimed, feeling her legs give way beneath her.

For a moment, something flashed in Chris’s eyes, and his lips curled up into a spontaneous smile, but then he regained his composure and gave her a curt nod.

“Kate,” he said rather formally. “Nice to see you again.”

Whereas a moment before, he’d seemed glad to see her, now he appeared cold and distant, and the small sprinkling of hope that had awakened in Kate’s heart, died out and was replaced by the dull ache she’d been feeling for months. He wasn’t the least bit happy to see her again, that much was clear, and who could blame him? No man likes to be reacquainted with a one night stand. Especially when she suddenly turns up on his own turf.

“I didn’t know you lived around here,” she said softly.

“Born and bred in Bruges,” he said.

“I, erm, I’m on vacation here,” she offered, even though he hadn’t asked.

“That’s nice,” he said in that same awkwardly flat tone.

They both looked away, not knowing what to say.

“Aren’t you gonna introduce me?” another voice rang out, and when Kate looked up, she saw that Chris hadn’t been alone in the room. This new addition was a bear of a man. A full head shorter than Chris but easily twice his size, with jet black hair and warm, brown eyes. He wasn’t handsome in the traditional sense, but he had a goofy smile that lent him a certain charm.

“This is Kate,” said Chris curtly. “Kirt, my associate.”

“And who are you?” said Kirt, eyeing Lauren with interest.

“Oh, don’t mind me,” said Lauren. “I’m just along for the ride.”

“Hey, that makes two of us,” said Kirt. “I’m Chris’s sidekick. Van Damme Security & Co.” He tapped his chest. “I’m Co. We provide security solutions for all businesses, great or small. So if you have a security concern, ladies, be sure to knock on our door.”

“Well, since you knocked on ours, I’ll be sure to return the favor,” said Lauren with a smile that made Kirt blink.

“Any time, Lauren,” said Kirt, returning the smile.

Gesturing to Chris, still perched on top of his ladder, and now looking bored, Lauren added, “So what are you doing here? Installing cameras to spy on the guests?”

“Good one,” said Kirt affably. “No, as a matter of fact we’re installing a burglar alarm in all the rooms.”

“Burglars?” said Lauren, surprised. “Here in Bruges?”

“Oh, it’s just a precaution,” Kirt was quick to assure her. “No one has ever burgled this place. But these days you can’t be too careful. You never know when you might receive an unwelcome guest.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” said Lauren, chipper.

All this time, Chris had stood with his back to them, and Kate felt herself shrinking more and more. She just wanted to be out of there as soon as possible. Meeting with her old lover was affecting her in the most devastating way. As if he hadn’t hurt her enough the last time, by giving her the cold shoulder treatment now, it was clear the man simply despised her, and she didn’t know why. She felt tears stinging in her eyes, and rather than break down in front of him, she decided to keep what little dignity she had left, and quickly turned away and walked out.

“Great seeing you again,” she muttered, and closed the door behind her.

“Kate, wait!” said Lauren, but her friend was already running down the hallway, tears rolling down her cheeks.

A
s the door
closed behind Lauren, Chris shook his head, dazed. What had just happened? Had he really just met the girl of his dreams? How was that even possible?

“Nice girl,” said Kirt.

“Yes,” said Chris.

“Very pretty, too.”

“Yes.”

“And Kate isn’t too bad either.”

“Yes.”

“Hey, buddy, what happened to you?” said Kirt, giving him a lopsided grin. “You look like you just saw a ghost?”

“I did,” said Chris, finally stepping down from his ladder and sitting down on the window sill. “That was Kate.”

“Yeah, I got that part. You two seemed to know each other?”

“That was
Kate
,” repeated Chris, raising an eyebrow at his friend. “
The
Kate?” He watched as understanding slowly dawned, Kirt’s expression going from blank to a frown to openmouthed surprise.

“Not
Kate
Kate?”

“That’s what I just said.”

“Not Kate who broke your heart and stomped on it Kate?”

“The one and only.” He sighed, and stared before him, his head in his hands. “She looked as lovely as ever.”

“Yeah, she’s quite a stunner,” said Kirt. As Chris fixed him with a censorious stare, he quickly added, “If you’re into the type, of course.”

“I am,” said Chris with another deep sigh. “And she’s still not the least bit interested in me.” He shook his head. “Did you see the way she looked at me? Pure contempt. I really don’t know what I did to make her resent me so much.”

“Ah, women,” said Kirt with a throwaway gesture. “Who understands them? I sure don’t.”

“We had such a lovely time together. And the best—”

“Night of your life. Yeah, you only told me about a million times.”

“I really thought we had a connection, you know.”

“I
do
know.”

Chris shook his head, and rose to his feet. “We better finish up here. I wouldn’t want to run into her again.” He shivered.

Kate’s eyes, so full of love and tenderness back in New York, had now been cold as ice. He didn’t understand what had happened to make her change her mind like that, and the fact that she had, had pretty much destroyed him for weeks after his return. Gradually, he’d come to accept that he would never know what was in a woman’s heart, and that one moment they appeared to love you, and the next moment seemed to hate you with the same intensity.

He picked up his hammer and drove another nail into the wall. Then he realized Kirt was still standing there, a dreamy expression on his goofy face.

“Hey, buddy,” he said. “You all right?”

Kirt looked up as if awakening from a dream. “Huh? Oh, yeah, of course. Uh-huh. I’m fine.” He frowned. “I should have given Lauren my card.”

“Why?”

“How else is she going to know my number!”

Then, hopping to the door, he gave Chris a cheeky grin. “I’ll just leave it with Queenie. She’ll know what to do with it.”

Chris rolled his eyes. “Yep. If there’s one person who knows what to do with it, it’s Queenie.”

He watched Kirt hurry out. Young love. He just hoped that when Kirt did manage to hook up with Lauren, she’d leave her friend out of the equation. As far as he was concerned, if he never saw Kate again, it was too soon. The woman had broken his heart once, he didn’t need her to do it again.

Five minutes later, he’d finished the job just when Kirt returned.

“She’ll take care of it,” he said with shiny eyes.

Chris laughed. Queenie, the sweetest old lady in the world, was also the most romantic one. Considering herself something of an angel of love, there wasn’t anything she enjoyed more than bringing couples together. Well, that was fine by him. As long as she stayed out of his affairs, she could work her magic as much as she wanted. On other people.

K
ate wiped away her tears
, and laughed. How silly she was. Crying for a man she’d only met during one brief weekend months ago. She was a happily engaged woman now. Why should she shed tears for Chris? She had found the man of her dreams, and she was going to marry him next month.

“I’m sorry,” she said, as Lauren handed her another tissue. “I don’t know
what
came over me.”

“You never told me how dreamy he was,” said Lauren.

“Well, yes, he is,” she admitted. “But obviously his looks don’t match his personality. A man might be handsome on the outside, but can be extremely ugly on the inside. I’m just sorry I had to find that out the hard way.”

“He did seem a bit grouchy,” agreed Lauren.

“A bit?” scoffed Kate. “It’s obvious he hates me, though I have no idea why.”

“I don’t know about that,” said Lauren pensively. “Perhaps he’s just shy? Shyness can easily be confused with uncouthness.”

“Trust me. He’s not shy. He’s self-centered and mean. A misogynistic, muttonheaded macho.”

Lauren laughed her tinkling laugh. “Do I detect a trace of resentment there? Don’t tell me you’re still pining for the man?”

“No way,” said Kate adamantly. “I’m engaged to be married to a very sweet, very wonderful man who hasn’t a mean bone in his body.”

“Or a spine in his back,” added Lauren.

“I resent that,” said Kate. “Franklin does have a spine. I’ve felt it myself.”

“He’s too sweet, if you ask me,” said Lauren.

“Well, I’m not asking you. I just want you to be happy for me. Can you do that?”

“Aye, aye, Captain Bligh,” said Lauren, raising her hand in a salute.

In spite of herself, Kate had to laugh. “You like the other guy, don’t you?”

“What other guy?” said Lauren innocently.

“That Kirt guy? I saw the way you were checking him out.”

“Well, what if I did?” said Lauren. “If I can’t check out cute Belgians when on holiday in Belgium, what is the world coming to? You might be all hitched up and ready to skip down the aisle, but I’m still looking for
my
Mr. Right.”

“And as long as you keep Chris far away from me, you can look all you want,” said Kate.

“Fine,” said Lauren, then bit her lip. “I just wish I’d given him my number. Now I’ll have to go and bother Queenie.”

A
s Kate
and Lauren descended the stairs to the cozy little lobby, a soft voice called out from behind the desk.

“Oh, Ms. Huckleberry? Ms. Harper? Do you have a moment to spare?”

The two women approached the desk, and found Queenie beaming at them from behind the counter. She was wearing half-moon spectacles and with her tiny white curls looked more than ever like a fairy godmother.

“I have a message for you from—”

She glanced down at a small piece of pink paper she was holding, then smiled as she recognized the name.

“Ah, yes, of course. From Kirt. Such a nice boy.” She directed a motherly look at Lauren. “He forgot to give you his phone number, in case there was anything you needed by way of security.”

“He did?” said Lauren happily. “That’s such a coincidence. I was just going to ask you if you knew him.

“Oh, of course I do,” said Queenie. “He’s such a darling. He’s Frank and Helen Raisin’s son, you know. A bit of a rascal when he was little, but he turned out to be his mother’s pride and joy. And quite handsome too, don’t you think?”

“He is,” said Lauren, blushing a little and taking the note from Queenie.

“For you I don’t have a message at this time, honey,” Queenie said, addressing Kate. “Though I’m sure wonderful opportunities are just around the corner.”

“I’m fine,” said Kate a little curtly. “I’m engaged, you know,” she added as further explanation.

“I know, darling,” said Queenie. “You told me. And I’m sure you’ll be perfectly happy.”

Why it was, Kate couldn’t say, but she seemed to detect in Queenie’s manner when she spoke these words, a touch of skepticism. She quickly dismissed it. “Thanks, Queenie,” she said.

“And now I won’t disturb you any longer, and wish you a wonderful day. Will you be joining us for dinner tonight?”

“I’m not sure,” said Kate. “It depends on—”

“Your father’s plans. Of course,” said Queenie. “I understand. Why don’t I reserve dinner just in case? Two young women like yourselves can always use some extra food after a long day full of surprises, mh?”

“Sure,” said Kate a little uncertainly. The old woman somehow reminded her of her late grandmother, a woman she’d adored, but who had the same habit of poking her nose in other people’s business.

“See you later, Queenie,” said Lauren with a blithe wave.

“See you later, dears,” Queenie chirped.

“That woman is just weird,” said Kate, as soon as they were out of earshot. “She seems to know everything about everybody.”

“Yeah, she
is
a bit eccentric,” agreed Lauren. “But isn’t she a doll?”

“So you’re gonna call this guy Kirt?” said Kate.

Lauren flicked the pink note with her thumb. “Of course,” she said. “Didn’t you hear what Queenie said? He’s a darling, darling!” And she laughed loudly at the face Kate pulled.

Kate’s dad had arranged for their first meeting to take place at a place called Henrique. It was a small café located on the fabled Bruges Market Square. It only took the two women five minutes to reach it. The weather was perfect for sitting outside, and all the cafés had brought out the tables and chairs.

Like most of the other cafés, the Henrique, with its gabled facade, had once been the home of one of the many medieval guilds that flourished in the erstwhile successful merchant town, but now served a more touristic purpose.

It appeared quite the popular place, for the terrace was absolutely overflowing with patrons. Searching the crowd, Kate suddenly noticed a friendly face peering out at her, and a tall man gave them a jolly wave. He was sitting at a corner table, a cup of coffee in front of him, and smoking a cigar. Dressed impeccably in a suit, he stood out against the colorful tourist crowd surrounding him.

“There he is,” she said to Lauren, and threaded her way through the throng to join her father.

He stood as she approached, smiling widely, and when they were face to face, he took her in a firm embrace that did much to allay her trepidation.

“Hello, um, Mr. Peeters,” she said awkwardly, as the three of them took a seat.

“Piet, please,” said the man she’d never met before. He eyed her appraisingly. “You look even lovelier than in the pictures your mother sent.”

“Thanks, Piet,” she said, not being able to take her eyes of the man. He was taller than she’d imagined. Then his words registered. “Wait, what? My mother sent you pictures of me?”

“Oh, sure,” he said, leaning back comfortably and taking a drag from his cigar, careful to blow the smoke away from them. “Every year on your birthday. It was the condition I set when she asked for a divorce. That and the opportunity to visit you from time to time. But once she was in America, she bluntly refused. Until now.” He gave her a wide smile. “Finally.”

“Well, I didn’t exactly ask her permission,” said Kate.

A delicate cough reminded her they weren’t alone. “Hi,” said Lauren. “I’m Lauren. Kate’s friend.”

“So nice to meet you, Lauren. I’m Piet. You’re one of Kate’s… colleagues?”

“Yes, I am,” said Lauren, clearly glad to be included in the conversation. “I’m a cop, just like Kate. Well, at least before she met Franklin and quit her job.”

The fact that Kate had decided to turn her back on her career was still a point of contention between the two friends.

“I still can’t get over the fact that you came all the way to Belgium!” said Piet, tapping the table smartly. “Not once, but many times, I invited your mother over for a visit, but she said you both hated flying. And since she refused to let me visit her—and you—we kinda lost touch.”

“Mom never told me you invited us,” said Kate, unpleasantly surprised. Wait till she got her mom on the phone.

“Oh, yes, of course. I was curious to see my little girl,” said Piet. “And now here you are!”

“Here I am,” said Kate blithely.

“I do hope you can stay until after the elections,” said Piet.

“Elections?”

“This time next week, I’ll know if the good citizens of Bruges have decided to grant me another six years as their mayor, or if they’ve opted for the other guy.”

“So you’ll be pretty busy these next couple of days?” said Kate, wishing she’d known about this. If her dad was going to have his hands full with his campaign, perhaps she should have picked another time to visit.

“Extremely,” he said. “We’re neck and neck at the moment.” His face darkened for a moment, and Kate could detect the telltale signs of a man who’s been working too hard and not getting enough rest. Red-rimmed eyes and a certain gauntness told her that her father had a lot on his mind.