Flossed (Alex Harris Mystery Series) (3 page)

Chapter 4

“You made it!” Bill Westlake came around the house from the backyard. “Welcome!”

“Are we the first to arrive?” John asked.

“Yes. I asked you to come a little early. I thought we could visit a bit. I’ve got to go to Switzerland next week but I wanted to spend more time with you than I’ve been able to.”

“John told us you work for a financial institution,” Michael said, making it sound more like a question.

“Yes, that’s right though I own the place. Along with my partner. The company’s called Custom Financial Planning, and it’s exactly as it sounds. There are several offices all over the world, though each one is totally independent from the others, kind of like a franchise format, and we usually tend to work with the ex-pat community, though we count many Belgians as clients here.” Bill ran his big hand through his beard. “So, how are you getting on? Having a good time?”

“A great time. We love the
Grand Place
,” I said. “Actually, we love everything we’ve seen and eaten.”

“Everyone does.” Wanda came back into the yard carrying a tray with an assortment of munchies. “It’s probably the most beautiful square in Europe. Oh, there are others that are quite lovely, but nothing as spectacular as the Grand Place. We’ll have to go back as soon as all the equipment from the festival is gone.”

“That pageant,” sighed Sam. “It was spectacular even if we didn’t have tickets for seats. What’s it called again?”

“
Ommegang
.”

“Well, whatever it’s called, it was wonderful,” John said. “We don’t get to see medieval stuff like that in the States. Too bad you couldn’t make it, Bill.”

“Had to work.” Bill showed everyone to a table where he had set up a makeshift bar. “We’ve got red and white wine, Coke, orange and apple juice, and of course, beer. Have you been sampling the local ale?”

“Are you kidding?” Michael said. “Last night after dinner we went to this place café with at least a hundred different kinds. Took us over fifteen minutes to decide.”

“I had some kind of raspberry beer, a
Framboise
, I think it was called,” I said. “It was divine.”

“We’ve got some here. Do you want one?”

“No, thanks. Not yet. I think I’ll start with some juice for now.” I took a glass of orange juice and Sam took a glass of apple putting several ice cubes into her glass. The men each chose a beer that Bill poured into special glasses explaining each beer had its own glass.

I excused myself to go look for the bathroom. The drive through the Bois in the wrong direction seemed to be playing havoc with my stomach. A wrong turn out of the kitchen took me into a vast living room. It was larger than the living and dining rooms put together of my house in Indian Cove.

A large sectional sofa dominated the center of the room. It looked soft and comfortable. And expensive. Under the sofa was a rug of equally expensive taste. Where the rug ended, a tile floor was exposed. I recognized the design from something I had seen in a store in New Haven.

On the far side of the room, the wall was covered from floor to ceiling with bookshelves and a very nice sound system. There were several lamps scattered about along with some wonderful watercolors adorning the walls. Wanda must have picked them up on her travels judging from the scenes. I would have to ask.

I turned and went to find the bathroom before returning outside.

“There you are, Alex. Did John ever tell you back in our university days, he was known as chug-a-lug?”

“No. He seems to have omitted that tidbit from his autobiography. Do tell.”

“Nothing much to tell except he never, ever did anything on a Sunday. He’d drink so much on Saturday night everyone knew better than to try and wake him before six or seven at night on Sunday.” Bill poured himself a large coke.

“Hey! I wasn’t that bad. Besides, nothing I could do could ever compare to your college exploits.”

“Let’s not get into it. We don’t want to bore our guests. I’m sorry to say he hasn’t changed much.” Wanda winked at her husband.

“Well, I am glad to report John’s weekend binges are one habit he has outgrown,” I said. “Now he spends his Saturdays and Sundays working on the house. Though I’m glad to report it’s just about finished.”

Wanda said, “He told me all about it on Thursday and it sounds wonderful. You’re very lucky, Alex, to be moving into such a nice place right after your wedding. Bill and I lived in a one-room apartment for about a year. And look at his size. It’s not a good thing to keep a man of Bill’s proportions cramped into a small space for too long, let me tell you.” Wanda gave Bill another wink.

“Where are your children?” Sam asked. “You have a boy and a girl, correct?”

“That’s right. They’re in the U.S. for the summer. You probably passed them somewhere over the Atlantic.” Wanda laughed at her own joke and continued, “They’re staying with my parents in Ohio. Bill and I will probably go back at the end of July.”

“Do you like being an ex-pat?” I asked, thinking I would miss my family too much.

“You get used to it. The perks are great. When Bill worked for others, we got a lot of extras like the kids’ schooling costs and annual trips back to the States. It’s a little harder now that he owns his own business, but things are going extremely well.”

I looked at the size of the house and the large yard. Things must indeed be going extremely well.

Wanda continued, “We’ve lived in Germany and France and now here. I think after Belgium, we’ll go back to the U.S.”

“The financial firm we associate with is opening a new office in New Jersey, so we might go there in a few years. In another few years I should be able to sell out at a good profit,” Bill said. “New Jersey’s not Ohio, but it’s closer than this, right, honey?”

Bill looked at Wanda and I suspected even with all the obvious advantages, the large house and yard for one, it hadn’t always been easy on Wanda adjusting to new countries, different languages, and cultures. It was probably easier on the man going off to work everyday while the woman had to contend with schools, shopping in a different language, and doctors and dentists; all the things that would be easy in your own town.

As if reading my mind, Michael asked Wanda what the local dental care was like.

“Well, it’s not as advanced as dentistry is in the U.S., but I’ve been lucky to find a wonderful English dentist. She’s great and the kids really like her. I’ve invited her today so she might be here. I tried a Belgian dentist when we first arrived, but I just wasn’t happy with him. He wasn’t big on promoting flossing or preventive care.”

Michael looked aghast at the notion there were still innocent people out there unequipped with a box of waxy string.

Hoping to change the subject before Michael took up the cause, I quickly asked, “Will there be a lot of people here today?”

“If everybody shows up. We’ve invited several people who work with Bill. And I’ve invited a few women from my club.”

“Club?” Sam asked.

“The American Women’s Overseas Lobby. Better known as AWOL. It’s a great organization. They have lots of activities and they do charity work. It’s been a lifesaver. All these years away from home would have been a horrendous time without the support of other women in the same position.”

“Why is it called ‘lobby’?” I asked.

“It really shouldn’t be anymore, but years back it was a sort of lobby working to get rights for the ex-pat families like absentee voting, that sort of thing. Now we have an organization within the club handling all of that. It’s called Federation of Overseas Women’s Lobbies, FOWL for short. I used to be a FOWL for the AWOL, but it was too time consuming so I had to give it up. Now I do a lot at APSOB.”

“Ap sob?” I asked wondering about all these acronyms.

“American Preparatory School of Brussels. Between APSOB and AWOL, I keep pretty busy.” Wanda smiled, showing her protruding teeth once again.

“This is all so professional sounding. Like a business,” Sam said, clearly in awe of a women’s club having such power.

“Yes, it is. It has certainly kept me busy all these years plus it’s a lot of fun and a great way to make friends,” Wanda said.

“Are all the guests today Americans?” John wanted to know.

Wanda took a sip of her drink and then answered, “Not at all. Let’s see. We have a Dutch couple coming. Then there’s the office secretary, Martine, and her husband, Paul. She’s Belgian and he’s half French half American. We have the Parmelees. Doug Parmelee is the other partner at the Belgian office, and his wife, Donna. She’s a friend from the club. Both are Americans. There’s also another Belgian couple coming and the Tillingsworths who are English, and of course our dentist, Susan Dilworth. Then there’s Tom and Jobeth Mulberry, another American couple. Jobeth is another club member and Tom is the pastor at the Christian Center for Renewed Hope.”

“Renewed hope?” I asked. “Are you a member?” My voice had a hint of panic to it hoping the cookout wasn’t going to be an excuse for an afternoon of preaching.

Wanda laughed. “No. No, I’m not a member of their congregation. Not that they haven’t tried, mind you, but Jobeth is from the club. I’m not friendly with her, but well, you have to know a bit about life here. As soon as school is out, most Americans head for home or exotic holiday destinations so it can get very lonely here in the summer months. Jobeth and Tom had no plans the first year we started this and they’d heard from someone else about our party so Jobeth kind of talked me into inviting them. And they’ve been coming ever since. To our Christmas open-house as well, I’m afraid.”

Bill groaned from the direction of the grill where he was attempting to get the coals lit. “We haven’t quite figured out yet what their religion is all about but one thing we do know is an abstinence from bleach isn’t something Tom preaches.”

“Excuse me?” Sam asked. “Did you say
bleach
?”

“Don’t pay any attention to him, Sam.” Wanda looked at her husband and shook her head. “Bill is being catty. You see, Jobeth has hair color much the same as yours, Alex. But you would never know it. She turns up every few months with a different shade. Sometimes it’s orange and sometimes, like now, it’s very yellow. And she’s a bit plump and wears a lot of makeup. Has a Howdy Doody face. Kind of like a larger version of Loni Anderson.”

“Not the picture that comes to mind when you think of a minister’s wife,” John said. “Are any of the others coming today members of their church?”

“I’m not sure—wait,” Wanda said remembering something. “I think Martine has gone a few times. Actually, I think she was a very active member for a while. Not anymore. Isn’t that right, Bill?”

“I don’t know. She doesn’t discuss her personal life with me,” Bill said, a bit abruptly, I thought.

“Don’t let the thoughts of having a minister around intimidate you. Tom’s pretty easy going and I’ve heard a few four-letter words coming from him on occasion,” Wanda offered. “I think you’ll have a good time and it’ll be a nice change from running all over sightseeing.”

The doorbell rang and Wanda left to go let in the first of the partygoers.

Chapter 5

A half hour later people covered the patio. Most of the guests knew each other by one connection or another. I walked over to a young woman about my own age and introduced myself.

“Hello. I’m Martine Cassé,” she answered. “I work wid Bill. Actually, I should say dat I work
for
him. I’m his secretary. And also for Doug.”

I smiled at the woman’s accent. After a few days in Belgium, I realized Belgians speaking English sounded much different than when the French spoke English. Where the French would pronoun the
th
sound as a
z
, the Belgians made it into a
d
sound. It was very charming especially on the lips of the petite redhead.

“Did I say someding amusing?”

“No. I’m sorry. I just love hearing all these different accents. You have a lovely way of speaking English.”

“Do you speak French, Alex?” She pronounced my name
Aleex
and I smiled again.

“I’m sorry and ashamed to say, Martine, Europeans have the Americans beat when it comes to languages. I had French in school, taught by a Spanish woman, so I didn’t pick up a lot. I couldn’t even understand her when she was speaking English.”

A man came over and Martine introduced him as her husband. He lowered his voice and said something to her in French.

“Not now, Paul.”

“Yes, Martine. I think now would be a good time since we never seem to find any at home.”

“Please, you are embarrassing me. I do not wish to discuss our personal problems here.” The young woman marched off under the glances of several of the guests.

“Excuse me.” Paul Cassé went after his wife.

I ran my hand through my short hair and sighed. I hoped whatever was bothering them wouldn’t turn out to be serious. Thinking Wanda might need some help, I glanced around the patio when my eyes rested on Sam across the flagstone talking with the Mulberrys. Before I could go over and try to undo any damage Sam had caused, Bill arrived at my side and pulled me over to the bar. I gave another quick look over my shoulder and prayed Sam was behaving herself. I strained to hear what the conversation was about over Bill’s booming voice.

“Our beliefs are rooted in the pursuit of living our lives within the restraints of a strict moral code. We like to have fun,” Tom Mulberry said as he put his arm around his wife’s shoulder. “We just feel, well, living one’s life with high moral values is the way to go. Don’t you agree, Jobeth?”

Bill had gone off to get more charcoal from the garage and I inched closer to the group pretending to arrange an hors d’oeuvre tray.

Jobeth Mulberry lowered her ample hips onto a white plastic chair and nodded up to her husband. “Absolutely. Our teen center was devised for exactly that purpose, to cultivate the minds of our youth and prepare them for a future serving God.”