When in Bruges (Humorous Romantic Mystery) (13 page)

C
hris finally got
his wish to have a quiet talk with both candidates. The TV crew had put their cameras down, and the Perch’s patrons had returned to mind their own business. Franklin had gone to his hotel to lick his proverbial wounds, and now only the two candidates and Chris and Kate remained, seated in a booth in the back of the bar. Both Piet and Jacques had insisted to meet on neutral ground, so instead of heading back to the office, they’d opted to remain at the Perch.

Having temporarily buried the hatchet—and not even in each other’s backs—the candidates sat nursing their orange juices and stared gloomily before them. After ascertaining their drinks were actually OJ and nothing but OJ, Chris and Kate explained what they’d discovered about their mysterious attacker.

“The Twelve,” grumbled Jacques. “Never heard of them. What are they? Some kind of cult?”

“We don’t know,” said Chris quite truthfully. “We were hoping you would.”

His dad gave him an uncooperative glare. It was obvious he didn’t approve of his own flesh and blood quite literally obstructing the course of revenge by steering him into some fat accountant instead. Kate’s dad, too, was uncharacteristically quiet. After having been dry for years, he now had to confess at next week’s AA meeting that he’d accidentally fallen off the wagon and was obliged to start counting from day one again. Not something you want to happen in the middle of a stressful election campaign.

“Look, can’t the two of you simply work together?” said Kate with that typical vehemence Chris admired so much. “I mean, I think we’re all sick and tired of this mud-slinging. If this keeps up, neither of you will get elected.”

Both candidates shuffled uncomfortably in their seats, like two rascals being reprimanded by the principal.

“The people want the two of you to work together,” continued Kate. “Not get into a bar brawl in front of the whole town.”

“He started,” said Jacques, gesturing at the other man. “He put a laxative in my drink.”

“And you put alcohol in mine!” cried Piet. “Is that what you call bipartisanship?”

“Enough!” cried Kate, slamming the table. “No more bickering, all right? From now on you work together, or else.”

“Or else what?” drawled Jacques.

“Or else I’ll go to Alfonso Gnat and hand him back the Geyser pictures,” said Kate, raising her chin mutinously.

“What? You can’t do that!” cried Jacques. “That’s blackmail!”

“You wouldn’t do that, would you, honey?” said Piet, shuffling uncomfortably in his seat.

“Try me,” said Kate.

“She can’t do that, can she, son?” pleaded Jacques. “Tell her she can’t do that.”

“She can and she will,” Chris said, “if the two of you don’t grow up and act like responsible adults for a change.”

Both men glared first at him and Kate, then at each other, then folded their arms across their chests. “Oh, all right,” muttered Jacques.

“What about you, dad?” said Kate. “Are you going to behave from now on?”

Piet scowled some more, then inclined his head without a word.

“I want you to shake hands,” said Kate, “and apologize.”

The two candidates briefly shook hands, and mumbled something incomprehensible.

“Now do it again, and this time, I want to hear the words loud and clear,” said Kate.

“Like you mean it,” Chris added, remembering what his old kindergarten teacher used to say when he’d been a bad boy and got into a fight.

“I’m sorry, Piet,” said Chris’s dad, shaking his colleague’s hand.

“I’m sorry, Jacques,” echoed Piet.

“Now doesn’t that feel good?” said Kate, chipper.

“Grrrrh,” said Jacques.

“Hrmph,” said Piet.

Yep. They were definitely making progress.

“Now, about the threat,” Chris said. “These people seem to be targeting you both. Can you think of any enemies you have in common?”

Both candidates frowned as if on cue, then stared at each other for a moment.

“Can’t think of anyone,” said Piet. “You?”

“Nope,” said Jacques. He turned to Chris. “I don’t have any enemies, son, you know that. I’ve done so much good for the people of this town, that I can’t imagine a single soul wanting to harm me. The people love me. They adore me. It’s not a surprise, then, that they’re all clamoring for my return as mayor.”

“Me, too,” concurred Piet. “As the mayor of Bruges I’ve been a force of good, a beacon of hope and a herald of prosperity for this community. People know that with Piet Peeters as mayor, the future of this town is guaranteed.”

“That’s not what
I
hear when I talk to people,” said Jacques. “They all say things have really gone down hill since you took over, Piet.”

“That’s odd,” said Piet. “Because when
I
talk to people, they say you should have been kicked out a lot sooner, considering how much things have improved.”

“You’re full of crap, Piet,” Jacques said.

“No,
you’re
full of crap, Jacques,” said Piet.

“No,
you’re
—”

A loud screech had them both look up in surprise. It was Kate, and she looked like she was about to snap.

“Um, guys,” Chris said. “I think you better play nice. Or else it’s not the mysterious Twelve who are going to kill you, but Kate.”

“One more word!” cried Kate, all flushed and looking more beautiful than ever. “One more word out of you two, and I swear…” She wrung her hands, making it clear what her intentions were. Her eyes were shooting fire, and like cowering pups, the two politicians meekly nodded.

“We’ll be good, honey,” said Piet.

“Yes, Kate, darling,” agreed Jacques. He slung an arm around Piet’s shoulders. “We’ll behave from now on, won’t we, Piet?”

Slinging his arm around Jacques’s shoulders, Piet said to him, “Friends, Jacques?”

“Friends, Piet,” said dad.

“You better,” warned Kate, then she turned to Chris and gave him a fat wink. He gave her a grin. She really was a force of nature.

H
eading back to the
Bouquets
& Nosegays
, Kate was intent on having a good, long talk with Queenie. It really wasn’t right for the woman to stick her nose in her affairs all the time. What right did she have to send Franklin to meet her at the park? And now that she came to think of it, how the hell had she known she
was
at the park? Did she have her guests followed or what? In a way, she’d come to Belgium to get away from her meddling mother but somehow had managed to land herself the meddling mother to end
all
meddling mothers!

Arriving at the Inn, she had to bide her time while an elderly American couple finished registering. They’d just arrived in Bruges and had the slightly dazed yet happily expectant expression to prove it.

“I’m giving you the Orchid Room,” said Queenie, and the couple giggled like newlyweds. “And may you have a most pleasant stay.”

“Oh, rest assured, Queenie, we will,” said the man, who sported a gray goatee. He eagerly steered his beaming wife in the direction of the elevator.

“Second honeymoon,” said Queenie with a wink, once the couple had disappeared. “They met here fifty years ago, can you imagine?”

“I can,” said Kate, approaching the desk and drawing herself up for the impending confrontation. But before she could let rip, Queenie interrupted her.

“Oh, Kate, honey. You’ll never guess what happened! Some man came barging in here this morning, claiming to be your fiancé, and wanting me to give him the key to your room! Can you imagine the nerve of some people? Said his name was Burp or Bump or something.”

“Drub,” corrected Kate.

Queenie’s eyes widened. “You know this man?”

“He
is
my fiancé,” said Kate.

Queenie clasped a hand to her face and bit her lip. “Oh, dear. I’m afraid I kicked him out!”

“You did? So he’s not staying here?” The relief she felt at this piece of news came as quite a surprise even to her.

“Well, Mr. Grub made quite a fuss, dear. He insisted I hand him the key to your room. I told him that unless he could show me a wedding certificate or any other document indicating he was your husband, I really couldn’t do that. You see, we don’t allow unmarried couples to share a room here. So I’m afraid he got quite upset.”

“He left?”

Queenie nodded. “The Inn is quite fully booked. And since he didn’t have a reservation and made quite a nuisance of himself, I sent him to the Barge. They were the only ones who could take him in at such short notice and even if he didn’t like it, it was the best I could do.”

“He didn’t like it?”

“Oh, no! Said he didn’t like boats and that he always got seasick. I told him the Barge is not a boat. It’s a
hotel
on a boat. There’s a difference, you see, and that’s what I told Mr. Grump. Not that he listened to a word I said, mind you.”

In spite of herself, Kate had to laugh. She could just imagine the kind of morning Franklin had had. First this little run-in with Queenie, then seeing her and Chris in a close embrace at the park, and then being attacked amidships by Jacques Van Damme.

“How did you know where I was?” she said, wanting to clear up this park business.

“What’s that, dear?” said Queenie with her most winning smile.

“You told Franklin he could find me at Minnewater Park. I was just wondering how you knew that was where I’d be.”

Queenie’s expression hardened. “He was most adamant to have speech with you at the earliest possible convenience. That’s what made me suspicious, you see. If he really was your fiancé, wouldn’t he have your cell phone number? But when I told him this, he said you didn’t know he was in Belgium and he wanted to surprise you. So I told him he could probably find you strolling about in Minnewater Park, because that’s where all lovers go.”

“Well, I was,” said Kate.

“Oh, my goodness!” said Queenie, once again taken aback. “I just said that to get rid of him! What are the odds!”

“You can say that again,” said Kate softly. The bit about all lovers gathering in Minnewater Park touched a chord. It was there that she and Chris had found each other again, wasn’t it? Coincidence?

“So what happened?” said Queenie eagerly. “Did he find you?”

“He did.” She refrained from adding that she’d been wrapped in Chris’s arms at the time.

“I’m so sorry, honey,” said Queenie with pretty contrition. “If I’d known I would never have sent him to the park. It’s just that he kept badgering me! As if I know where all my guests are at all times of day or night!”

For some reason, Kate had the distinct impression that Queenie did, in fact, know where all her guests were at all times. Then she quickly dismissed the thought. Impossible, of course. She now realized she’d judged Queenie too harshly. The woman merely wanted to get rid of an annoying guest. “No,
I’m
sorry, Queenie,” she said.

“What do you have to be sorry for, darling?” said Queenie. “It isn’t you who came barging in here demanding access to the room of a guest.” She raised her chin in defiance. “It wouldn’t be the first time that some boy tries to gain access to a girl’s room. Well, not on my watch!”

Kate could well imagine what Franklin had been up against. Queenie might look like a sweet old lady, but she sure had bite.

“And to think I wanted you to hold your wedding here,” said Queenie. “That young man of yours will never want to get married at the
Bouquets & Nosegays
now, will he?”

“No, I’m quite sure he won’t,” said Kate. Then, though she didn’t know why, she softly added, “Though there probably won’t be a wedding.”

“What was that, honey?” said Queenie.

“Nothing,” said Kate. And on an impulse, she leaned across the counter and pressed a soft peck on the old woman’s cheek. “Thanks, Queenie,” she said.

“For what, dear?” said Queenie, pleasantly surprised.

“I don’t know!” said Kate, laughing.

Queenie gave her a dazzling smile. “Well, I’m glad you’re not mad at me for throwing your fiancé out on his ear. And when you see him, tell him I’m deeply sorry.” She spread her arms. “If only I had known!”

Back in her room, as she picked up her cell to call Franklin, Kate thought Queenie’s last words could well be her life’s motto: if only she had known that Chris really had left a note for her that day at the hotel, she would have gotten in touch with him, and perhaps would be engaged to him instead of Franklin. The thought of being engaged to Chris sent a warm flush up her cheeks and a rush of heat racing through her body.

There was no denying it: she was in love with Chris, and always had been, from the start.

“Hello, Franklin? Are you all right?”

Patiently, she listened to Franklin’s lament about being attacked by Chris Van Damme’s father, and his suspicions about Chris himself. More and more she realized what a mistake she’d made when becoming engaged to this man and how grateful she was to Queenie for sending him to another hotel.

The
Bouquets & Nosegays
house rules perhaps were a bit old-fashioned, but on the other hand, she really couldn’t imagine playing house with Franklin while she was falling head over heels in love with Chris all over again. Life was already complicated enough without Franklin sharing her bed every night.

I
t was
a good thing that Franklin had decided to spend the rest of the day convalescing in his room, for one of the highlights of the election campaign was taking place that afternoon in Queen Astrid Park, and it was imperative that Kate and Chris attend it together, in case The Twelve tried any funny business.

Good thing, too, that the candidates had finally decided to bury the hatchet, for the family day their respective campaign teams had set up, was dedicated to the spirit of bipartisanship.

As Kate entered the park, the first thing she noticed was that Hock and Coleen and a couple dozen volunteers had done an excellent job turning the place into a festive scene for the whole family. They’d organized a barbecue, a mini market with dozens of stalls selling anything from drinks to handicraft to books, and had extended the existing playground with a merry-go-round, a bouncy castle, ponies and makeup artists for the little ones.

Everybody appeared to be having a wonderful time, the altercation at the Perch long forgotten, and when the sun finally broke through the clouds, setting the seal on the merry scene, Chris and the candidates arrived and started mingling with the crowd. And for once, they didn’t try to kill each other, which was a welcome change for all involved.

“Looks like they’ve learned their lesson,” said Chris, ambling over.

“Let’s hope so,” Kate said. “It’s much harder to protect them if they’re constantly at each other’s throats.”

“You really handled that well, back there,” Chris said. “If this stay-at-home mom thing doesn’t work out, you can always go work as a lion tamer or an elephant wrangler.”

She looked up, surprised. “What do you know about me being a stay-at-home mom?”

“Lauren talked,” said Chris with a comical eyebrow waggle.

Kate grimaced. “You can’t trust anybody these days.”

They looked on as Jacques and Piet walked down to a small pond, arm in arm, then Kate said, “About that stay-at-home mom thing… I’m having second thoughts.”

“You do?” he said, surprised. “What part? The staying at home part, or the mom part?”

“Neither,” she said. “It’s the part about whom I’d share this home with that’s got me confused.”

For a moment, Chris didn’t speak. Then he said, slowly, “I’m not sure I follow.”

She took a deep breath and said it. “I’m not sure I picked the right husband.”

He slowly turned to look at her, his face registering both surprise and a dawning hope. “You mean…”

“I mean… Franklin is a very nice man, very sweet and kind-hearted, and I know he cares for me a great deal.”

“But…”

“But I don’t love him.”

“You don’t?” He seemed genuinely surprised.

“No.” She scuffed the toe of her shoe against the grass. “I’ve known quite a while. I just didn’t want to admit it to myself. I think what I liked about him was the security, the fact that he was there when I needed him, and that he would never leave me and always take care of me. But love? I don’t think so.”

“You want a man who takes care of you, who’s always there for you when you need him,” Chris repeated.

“I do,” she said. “And Franklin is all that and more. And I do like him. A lot. He’s a good friend. But that’s not enough to build a life together.”

“You do realize I love you, Kate?” Chris said softly.

“Yes,” she said.

He looked up, surprised. “You do?”

“And I believe you about the note.”

“I… Oh, Kate.” He sounded deeply relieved.

“I was so angry with you for such a long time, Chris, it took me a while to let go of that anger.”

They’d reached the small pond at the heart of Queen Astrid Park, a statue of Neptune its most prominent feature, along with a fountain. The two candidates had just stepped into a small rowing boat together, and were posing for the cameras, arm in arm, like old friends.

“Look at that,” she said. “You would think they’re bosom buddies.”

“Kate,” said Chris, and the urgency in his voice impelled her to face him.

“There was something else I wrote in that note that day.”

“What?” she said, her throat constricting.

“I wrote that I hoped the night we spent together was the first of many to come, hopefully stretching out into the future for as long as we both should live.”

The constriction in her throat didn’t budge, as her eyes suddenly filled with tears. “Oh, Chris,” she finally managed. “Did you really write that?”

“And I meant it, too,” he said, gazing at her earnestly.

She could see it in his eyes. He really did mean it. On an impulse, she slung her arms around his neck, and reached up. Taking her into his arms, he kissed her tears away, and then suddenly her mouth was his, and for the first time in six months, they kissed.

Chills ran down her spine as their lips touched, and suddenly it was as if something hard and tight relaxed inside her. As if Chris’s touch melted something deep inside, and she clung to him, hungrily, as she let go of all her resentment and misery, and gave herself up to his embrace.

They kissed deeply, like two lovers separated for months, which they were. Finally, they had found each other, and neither wanted to let go ever again.

But then the world intruded. Loud screams erupted, and they were wrenched from their bliss.

Looking up, Kate saw that the small rowing boat containing their fathers had somehow become unmoored, and was now drifting beyond the statue of Neptune toward the fountain.

Hock and Coleen were already running to the other side of the pond, and Chris and Kate joined them.

“Help!” cried Piet frantically.

“Help us!” cried his newfound friend.

“We can’t swim!” exclaimed Piet.

They were drifting toward the fountain at a steady clip, and all would have been perfectly fine, if both candidates hadn’t been rocking the boat with their frantic waving and jostling. The moment they reached the fountain, and the first drops of water started raining down on them, they both scrambled for cover. The boat tipped over, catapulting both men into the water.

They came up sputtering, and Chris and Kate wasted no time hurling themselves into the water after them. With long strokes of his powerful arms, Chris reached the candidates first, Kate a close second. He quickly grabbed Kate’s spluttering father under the armpits and started swimming his way to shore. Kate did the same with Jacques, who willingly let himself be swum to safety, ejecting a long gurgle of pond water.

“We’re almost there,” she panted.

“Thank you, my dear,” he coughed. “Thank you for saving my life.”

“That’s all right. Just remain calm. We’re almost there.”

“Oh, right, right,” said Jacques, sputtering some more.

They reached the shore, and a dozen Brugeans awaited to help pull the unfortunate politicians and their saviors onto dry land. Kate searched around for Hock and Coleen, wondering why they hadn’t jumped in as well. They were there, all right, helping the candidates to their feet. Perhaps they couldn’t swim either, Kate thought.

Applause rang out, and it was only when she saw dozens of smiling faces turned in their direction, that she realized they were clapping for Chris and her.

They both stood shivering a bit, not used to that kind of attention, and when the TV crew also appeared, she inwardly groaned. So this was what it felt like to be the center of attention. Yikes.

Chris must have felt the same way, for he took her hand in his, and gave it a tight squeeze. Then she remembered their kiss, and she felt all warm and fuzzy inside, forgetting about the people, the candidates, the TV crew and the cold, wet clothes weighing her down. All she thought about was Chris, and how wonderful that kiss had felt. He loved her and she loved him, and that was all that mattered.