There had to be something in her past that would lead me to her. Everyone had something to hide and no skeleton stayed in the closet, whether you cemented it in there or not.
I got up and moved over to my makeshift board where I had pinned everything up on her case. All of Stanley’s notes and my own, including photos of her.
My eyes landed on the name of her daughter’s company, and that’s when I realized what I’d been missing. I hadn’t interviewed her daughter yet.
Surely, she would know where her mother was. I looked up the address of where she worked and got ready, mentally running through some questions I needed to know the answer to before I asked her where she was.
For some reason, I was nervous.
Nervous that I was about to go and meet the woman who Maurelle loved, and probably the only woman that she would protect.
It was a gamble, but I had to try.
“Can I help you?” the cheery voice from the all too proper receptionist asked as I approached the desk in the ultra modern office building.
“My name is Kane Garrick, I’m a detective with the East Wendell Police Department. I need to speak with Camille Delaponte?”
Her smile disappeared. “Oh, uh…is she in trouble?”
“No, I just need to ask her about someone we are investigating.”
She took a deep breath. “Oh, I was worried for a moment. She does appear to be free, let me call up and see if she’s in her office.”
I stood to the side of the desk, keeping an ear on the conversation to see if she divulged anything to alert the woman to flee. She didn’t, it was an honest exchange and once she’d hung up the phone, she smiled back over to me.
“She’s free and expecting you,” she said. “Take the elevator to level 5, and head through to the reception desk there. They will direct you to her office.”
“Thank you,” I replied as I walked off to the elevator bay. The music playing in the elevator was enough to make me want to take out my pistol and shoot myself. Did they do this on purpose?
As the doors opened, I saw this level had an artist explode all over the walls with art and vibrant colors. Not at all like the dull beige and whites down in the reception area. Another woman smiled at me as I approached. “Detective Garrick?”
“Yes.”
“This way,” she said, as she all but glided out in front of me. The carpets drowned out what I knew would be click clacking of her stiletto shoes, as she led me to the very end of the floor. The large double doors opened and I saw a blonde woman sitting behind a desk with two large monitors. She was finely dressed but I could see instantly the genetics were strong in her family line.
She looked up, her sharp eyes landing on me before she politely dismissed her worker.
“Come in and take a seat, Detective,” she said, motioning to the chair in front of her desk. She pushed her monitors to the side, they were hanging off a bar that seemed to swivel to the side. “How may I be of assistance?”
She was polite, charming, and I knew she was playing me to see how much I really knew. She had slight tells that she was nervous.
“I’m here to speak to you about Maurelle Picquet.”
She moved subtly in discomfort, but I caught the minor adjustment.
“I’m sorry, I meant Maura Benoit-Clayton.”
The smile that made its way on her face told me she was no fool, and she didn’t pretend to be one.
“I think we both know it wasn’t a slip up the first time, Detective.”
“Good,” I replied. “I don’t have time to waste. I’m looking for your mother.”
“You won’t find her, she’s gone underground. When she is close to being captured, she does that. No one will know where she is, least of all me.”
“I don’t believe that for a second,” I said, sitting back in my chair. It was comfy, probably a little too comfy for a visitor chair. She didn’t seem like the type to want people to be uncomfortable, and she had a kindness to her eyes that told me she was nothing like her mother. “I have to say, you are older than I expected. Maurelle doesn’t appear to be that old.”
“She’s not,” Camille said. “She’s more like an older sister really. She was far too young when I was born.”
