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Authors: Traci Hunter Abramson

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BOOK: Royal Target
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Chapter 32

“I don’t know.” Mrs. Manero sat in her sister’s kitchen and looked over the photos spread out on the table in front of her. Her grief had been replaced by anger as she considered her husband’s activities. Now she was determined to help the authorities find out who had turned her life upside down.

Prince Garrett sat across from her along with the chief detective on the case. The detective’s voice was calm and soothing when he spoke. “Take your time.”

Garrett watched the older woman slide one photo off to the side and then shift her gaze to another. Of the dozen photos on the table, one was of Pierre Dumond; one was of the art dealer, Byron Heuse; and six were of members of the ruling council who had voted against the US presence in Meridia. The four other photos were random police file photos.

Mrs. Manero skipped over Byron Heuse’s and Pierre Dumond’s photos without a second glance, instead focusing on over three of the photos of older members of parliament and one of the random photos. Finally she pointed to one of them. “I never saw the face of the other man, but I think this was one of the men meeting with my husband.”

“Are you sure?” Garrett asked, leaning forward to confirm his suspicions. The photo she had chosen was of Lord Tratte.

“Yes, that’s him.” She nodded, staring down at the photo. “I remembered thinking that he looked familiar, but I don’t think I’ve ever met him.”

“You have been very helpful, Signora Manero.” The detective stood and collected the photographs. “Please let me know if you remember anything else.”

Garrett gave her a nod and added his thanks as he and the detective left the house. “Now what?”

“I’ll have Lord Tratte picked up and brought in for questioning,” the detective told him. “If you could have his bank records subpoenaed that would help speed up the investigation. With a request directly from the royal family, I should be able to get them within a few hours.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Garrett shook the detective’s hand. “Please keep me informed of your progress.”

“Absolutely.”

As soon as Garrett was back in his car, he instructed the driver to return to the palace. He had buried himself with work for the past several days to keep from thinking about Janessa. He thought about her anyway. After closing the window to give himself privacy from the driver, Garrett called his father to give him the news. Then he called Janessa to give her an update as well, though he knew it was just an excuse to hear her voice.

“I’m glad you called,” she told him. “I’m starting to go stir-crazy.”

“Hopefully you won’t have to hide out too much longer,” Garrett told her. “Mrs. Manero identified Lord Tratte as one of the men who met with her husband. She said that she never saw the face of the other man, so it is quite possible it was either Pierre Dumond or Byron Heuse.”

“Which still leaves the woman,” Janessa told him.

“Dumond is already in custody and is denying any involvement. Maybe Lord Tratte will be more cooperative.”

“We can hope.”

* * *

“I think I have what you’re looking for.” Patrice set a bag of groceries down on the kitchen counter and turned to face Janessa. “Lilia’s mother has the names of the servers who would have been sent to help at the luncheon you asked about. It was a husband and wife team, Elina and Roberto Lumere.”

“Have they ever helped you before?”

Patrice nodded as she started unloading the groceries. “Roberto is the one I especially don’t like to have help, but it seems he is always the one they send.”

“He’s the one that takes forever when he serves?”

Again she nodded. “Brenna mentioned that he has gotten lost a few times when he has been in our service. Last summer she found him in the library. He claimed to have taken a wrong turn when he was looking for the bathroom.”

“That does sound odd,” Janessa agreed, stacking the canned goods in a cabinet. “Have you ever seen him bring anything into the chateau or take anything out?”

“Actually, that was the other thing that always bothered me. Everyone else from the caterers comes already dressed and prepared to work. Roberto always arrives in street clothes and then changes once he gets here.” Patrice shook her head. “It’s irritating to have to find him someplace to change and store his bag.”

“How big is his bag?”

“It’s one of those bags for hanging clothes.” She held out her hands to gauge the size. “When it isn’t folded up, it’s rather large.”

Janessa considered this new information.

“By the way, the art expert arrived this morning,” Patrice told her. “He is studying all of the paintings here at the chateau.”

“Who asked him to do that?”

“Signore Dumond. Apparently he made the arrangements before he was arrested.” Patrice put the last of the food into the refrigerator. “Martino will be coming to retrieve the paintings in here to be examined as well.”

“Thank you, Patrice.” Janessa turned and looked at the seascape on her own wall. Could the forgeries have spread to the chateau?

A short while later Martino arrived to retrieve the artwork from her room.

“Has the art expert discovered any forgeries?” Janessa asked.

Martino nodded, his eyes serious. “He has discovered three so far.”

“Was one in the library?”

Martino’s eyes widened. “How did you know that?”

“Lucky guess,” Janessa told him. “I would like to see a list of the forgeries and their locations when he is done examining all of the artwork. I think we have a lot of work to do before the luncheon on Friday.”

* * *

Garrett and Stefano looked through the two-way mirror at the man who had once been their father’s most trusted advisor. Throughout the interrogation, Lord Tratte maintained that he had done nothing wrong, insisting that the Americans had framed him because he was so openly opposed to their naval base in Meridia.

The interrogator had not yet informed Lord Tratte of how he had come to their attention but rather had allowed Tratte to assume that he had been identified through his bank records. With this strategy, his motives became more and more apparent.

“Don’t you understand?” Lord Tratte asked the interrogator, assuming a superior attitude. “With the Americans here, Meridia will lose its autonomy. We will be just another port for sailors to get drunk and cause trouble. King Eduard has lost his perspective on the long-term effects this decision will have on our country.”

The interrogator nodded in understanding. “So you are concerned with preserving our way of life.”

“Absolutely. First it will be a US naval base, and then it will be high-rise hotels and condominiums. Our coastline will be cluttered with tourists, and the king will be forced to increase funding for the local police and the port authority.”

“Do you often go out on the water?”

“Rarely.” Tratte shook his head. “I much prefer looking at the water to being on it.”

“I see. Well, that would explain why you don’t own a boat.” The interrogator flipped through his notes, taking his time before looking up. “But that being the case, why would you frequent Alberto Manero’s gas station?”

Tratte narrowed his eyes. “I don’t understand.”

“Alberto Manero, the man who owned the gas station that caught fire last week,” he read from his file. “His gas station only provided gasoline for boats, not automobiles. I just wondered why you would go there every month if you didn’t have a boat.”

“You must be mistaken,” Lord Tratte said now. “I don’t know anybody by that name.”

“That really is odd.” The interrogator stared him down, watching as his face paled slightly. “Why would you meet with him the first Tuesday of every month if you didn’t know him?”

“I refuse to answer any more of your questions without my lawyer present.”

“That can be arranged.” The interrogator gave a curt nod and left the room. A moment later, he entered the viewing booth where Garrett and Stefano had been watching.

“Sounds like you have him on the ropes,” Stefano told the interrogator. “If he’s asking for his lawyer, you know he’s worried.”

He nodded. “It doesn’t hurt that the financial records are supposed to arrive tonight. My sources say that his father squandered much of the family’s fortune, and when he died several years ago, Lord Tratte found himself with debts that were well beyond the family’s ability to pay.”

“His longtime hatred of the United States must have helped him justify his involvement with the embassy bombing. The real question is whether he will identify the others involved.”

“That may take some time, especially if he was responsible for the fire that killed Manero,” the interrogator told them. “If he thinks he is going to take the fall for something he didn’t do, he may come forward with more information, but I expect that he is still justifying his actions.”

“Let me know if you get anything else out of him,” Stefano instructed.

As soon as Garrett and Stefano were alone, Garrett turned to his brother. “What do you think the chances are that he set that fire at the gas station?”

“Tratte doesn’t strike me as the type to get his hands dirty, but it’s possible. He did serve a few years in the military, so he probably had the expertise needed.” Stefano shrugged. “I keep wondering why Manero was killed.”

“I have to think that either he wanted out or someone was afraid he would talk,” Garrett suggested. “The night of the gas station fire, Manero was supposed to have his monthly business meeting, yet his body was the only one we found at the scene.”

“That may solve the first part of the puzzle. Now we just have to figure out who the third person involved was.”

“And find Byron Heuse before he recruits replacements.”

Chapter 33

Later that week, Garrett watched through the limousine window as his father’s private plane landed at the airport. As soon as the aircraft came to a stop, his driver pulled forward and parked next to it. A moment later, Garrett watched Tim O’Donnell escort his wife, Lauren, down onto the tarmac.

Heedless of the reporters that had been constantly following him since his arrival in Calene, Garrett stepped out of the car to greet his friends.

“When you said you would take care of our travel arrangements, I thought you meant that you would send us a couple of plane tickets.” Lauren moved forward and gave Garrett a hug.

“The plane was in Washington anyway,” Garrett commented as he shook Tim’s hand.

“Well, we appreciate it,” Lauren told him, avoiding mentioning the reason the plane had ended up in Washington in the first place. She climbed into the back of the limo and waited until Tim and Garrett were settled before she asked, “Are you going to tell me what happened with the American girl? Tim won’t tell me anything.”

Garrett turned to Tim. “Did you tell her I got baptized?”

“Yes. And I’m so happy for you! But how did you manage to keep this juicy bit of info from the press?” Lauren asked incredulously. “Nothing has been in the newspapers at all about you being associated with the Church.”

“Believe me, that hasn’t been easy.”

“What about the girl? Is there any hope you’ll get back together?”

Garrett shook his head. “I may need a miracle on that one.”

Tim studied him for a moment. “I hope it turns out the way you want.”

“So do I.”

* * *

Janessa leaned over her worktable where she had spread out the museums’ security logs. Since Garrett had told her of Pierre Dumond’s arrest, something had been nagging at her. She couldn’t reconcile the man she had met with a thief, and she definitely couldn’t see him involved in an organization that would kill to obtain its objectives. She also couldn’t understand why he had sent the art experts to the chateau to discover more forgeries unless he was innocent.

If she looked at the evidence like a prosecutor, the case was tight. Dumond had been in the right places at the right times to steal the works of art in question. His access code had been identified as the only one used in three of the thefts.

From a defensive point of view, no one had seen him take anything from the museums. His lifestyle had not changed significantly over the past several years, and none of the money filtering through the numbered account in the Cayman Islands could be traced to him in any way. Withdrawals from the account had been made in person over the years, mostly in cash, but no one in the bank could ever recall seeing Dumond.

Another thing that bothered her was the Tuesday meetings. Passport records had indicated that Byron Heuse, the art dealer, had not been in Meridia on any of the dates in question. Logically, that meant that Dumond had been the other man present, yet Signora Manero had said that the other man was younger than Lord Tratte. Dumond was actually a bit older than Tratte.

She peeked out the door of her office into the living room when she heard her door open. Queen Marta entered, followed by Prince Stefano.

“How are you holding up, dear?” Queen Marta asked as Janessa moved into the living room.

“A little stir-crazy, but other than that I’m fine.” Janessa motioned for them to sit down.

Stefano nodded at her office as he sat. “I see you are still working hard.”

“I just can’t believe that Pierre Dumond is guilty.” Janessa shrugged her shoulders. “If someone else managed to get his access code, he truly may be as innocent as he says he is.”

“Securing his access code would not be an easy feat,” Stefano told her with an air of authority. “The access codes are changed every six months. Three different codes were used in the thefts, all belonging to Dumond.”

“Enough about that for the moment,” Queen Marta interrupted. “I’m afraid we still have a lot of details to see to for the upcoming festivities. Patrice told me that you needed to speak to me about the caterers.”

Janessa nodded. “I think some of their personnel are switching the paintings here at the chateau.”

She went on to explain about Patrice’s observations and the plans to increase the surveillance areas in the chateau.

Stefano’s dark eyes sharpened as he considered the possibilities. “So most likely the caterers are bringing in the forgeries with their uniforms and then sneaking the originals out in the hanging bag Patrice mentioned.”

“Right. The man, Roberto Lumere, is our main suspect, but when the police went to his home to question him, he and his wife weren’t there.” Janessa shrugged. “Of course, there is also the possibility that a guest has been orchestrating the thefts for the past several years.”

“Pierre Dumond has been a frequent guest since he took over the museum in Bellamo,” Marta said now, concern and regret filling her voice.

“Yes, but he has been here for nearly ten years. The thefts didn’t begin until three years ago,” Janessa pointed out. “I can’t find anything in his background that indicates a significant change that would cause him to abandon his integrity and start a life of crime.”

“Garrett is supposed to be sitting in on the interrogations today,” Stefano told her. “Maybe the detectives will have some luck in uncovering some new information.”

Stefano stood and leaned over to kiss his mother’s cheek. “I need to get back to Calene. If all goes well, we will see you tomorrow.”

“Just as long as you are here for the welcoming luncheon,” Queen Marta told him. As soon as he left, she turned back to Janessa. “Now, why don’t you tell me what is really happening between you and
my son.”

Janessa’s jaw tightened, and she knew she couldn’t talk about this, not yet anyway. “I’m afraid I’m not destined to live in your world.”

“Nonsense,” Queen Marta said.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but I really don’t want to talk about this, please.”

Marta studied her a moment and gave a subtle nod. Her tone was compassionate as she said, “I want you to know that I would gladly welcome you to our family, and my husband has come to feel the same way.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

With a brisk nod, the queen changed the subject. “Now, bring me up to date on the preparations for the gala, and we’ll see what still needs to be done.”

* * *

Friday morning Janessa met with Levi after he made a final check of the new security equipment. Alan and Max had already completed their sweep of the chateau, and they were now positioned at the front gate, where all vehicles would be inspected before proceeding forward.

Shortly before eleven o’clock, Janessa moved into the security office so she could help monitor the video feed from the chateau’s security cameras and the new surveillance equipment that had been placed around the kitchen, dining room, and parlor.

Once she was satisfied that all of the monitors were functioning properly, she called Martino. “When is King Eduard expected to arrive?”

“Any minute,” Martino told her. “The queen should also be arriving within the next ten minutes.”

An alarm went off in her head. “Where is the queen?”

“She went into Bellamo about two hours ago. She said something about checking on the dessert menu.”

“Has anyone heard from her since she left?” Janessa fought the rising panic.

“No, signorina.”

“Call Enrico,” Janessa instructed. “I want to know exactly where the queen is.”

“Of course,” Martino agreed, his normally formal tone softening with concern.

Behind her, Levi stood abruptly. “What’s going on?”

“The queen went to the caterers two hours ago to finalize the dessert menu, but Patrice took care of that last week.” Janessa pressed the number for the queen’s cell phone, her tension rising. “She’s not answering.”

“How do you want to play this?” Levi asked.

“Start a location trace on any calls made from the queen’s phone just in case,” Janessa said as her phone rang.

Martino’s voice was filled with anguish when he gave her the news. “Enrico is not answering his phone. Neither are the queen’s bodyguards.”

Janessa hung up her phone and looked at Levi. “Enrico and the guards aren’t answering. Call the police and send them to the caterers, and get me some backup. You just became command central.”

Heedless of who might see her, Janessa raced out of the chateau to the garage. She grabbed a set of keys out of the case on the wall and clicked the lock button to figure out which car they belonged to. She had just cleared the gate when she saw a limousine approaching. Realizing it was Garrett, she picked up her phone and pressed speed dial.

Garrett picked up on the first ring. “I just saw you drive by. Where are you going?”

“I’m going to the village.” Urgency filled her voice. “Your mother left a couple of hours ago. I’m sorry, Garrett. No one told me she was leaving.”

“I don’t understand,” Garrett said. “Where did she go?”

“The caterers.” Janessa took a deep breath. “Garrett, I’m worried. She and Enrico aren’t answering their phones.”

“I’ll meet you there as soon as I can.”

“Garrett, hurry.”

BOOK: Royal Target
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