Paris Plunge: A Cozy Travel Mystery by Maisy Marple

Author:Maisy Marple [Marple, Maisy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CCS Publishing
Published: 2025-02-23T00:00:00+00:00

6

“What’d Detective Harper say?” Skye asked Aidan as she stuffed the rest of the warm, buttered croissant into her mouth.

“She said she’d meet us at JM’s in thirty minutes,” Aidan smirked. “Shall I order you some more of those?” He pointed at the empty bakery bag.

It was hard to scowl with her mouth full of croissant, but Skye did her best. When she’d swallowed the last bit, she wiped her chin and dusted off her fingers. “Okay, are we ready to head that way?”

Aidan, Jemma, and Henry nodded and the three left the hotel, stepping out into the bustling streets of Paris. It was early but the city was already awake and thriving, the sound of honking cars and chattering pedestrians filling the air. They navigated through the narrow, cobblestone streets, passing by the many cafés and elegant boutiques. The Eiffel Tower loomed in the distance, and they thought of Jacques as they crossed the Seine and headed for JM’s.

Finally, they arrived at the premier fashion house, the exterior not failing to make an impression the second time, as well. Detective Harper was pacing in front of the building when they arrived.

“It’s about time,” Detective Harper grumbled.

“You said thirty minutes,” Skye reminded her. “It took us…twenty eight,” she informed her as she studied her watch.

“Whatever,” Detective Harper rolled her eyes. “What are we doing here?”

“Well, as you know, this is Jacques’ business,” Skye began. “We discovered that his old business partner, Andre Beaumont is very familiar with Celeste Duval, who, as you know, was Jacques’ biggest rival in the industry. We overheard Andre and Celeste having a heated argument at Café Lumière last night. As soon as they left, that suspicious security guard from the airline’s storage unit showed up with another sketchy-looking businessman. They argued over money.”

“Yes, Aidan told me about that. Do we know who they are yet?” Detective Harper asked.

“We only know their first names—Bob and Eric. We have photos, though.”

“Good. Send them to me and I’ll run them for matches.”

“We’re thinking Jacques’ assistant might recognize him. It’s worth a try, at least,” Skye said with a shrug.

Detective Harper nodded.

“I’ve sent you the photos anyway,” Aidan told her as he stowed his phone back into his pocket. “Bob is the big guy. Eric is the smaller one in the cheap suit.”

“Maybe we can ask Amelie why Jacque flew to Marseille and back just two days before he died, too. His travel was always London and home. ”

“I sent you the flight information on that last night,” Henry reminded Detective Harper.

“Well, let’s go see what Amanda has to say,” Detective Harper said as she opened the door and went inside.

“Amelie,” the four sleuths called behind her.

Inside, the atmosphere was a stark contrast to the tense, awkward vibes during their last visit. At the front desk, Skye opened her mouth to ask if Amelie was available, but Detective Harper beat her to it. Flashing her badge at the poor, frazzled girl behind the desk, who was juggling phone calls

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