Shoutouts!
Nosilla: Very, very soon, dearest. Soon.
Unknown-Dreams: Yesh, Mark is evil. And yesh, it's DUTCHY!
Lil Irish OT: -blushes- Thank ye much.
Lloyd smirked at Roxy as she sat down in a chair, swinging her legs over one armrest. "Jason Klein, seventeen, filthy-rich, and next in line to inherit the company Barrett & Klein." Roxy frowned.
"I take it Mark and Paul aren't too happy about that," she noted. Lloyd nodded.
"Paul doesn't think he can handle it. He'd rather have someone else take over, but if it's not Jason, it's whoever Mark decides ought to take it. Paul doesn't like Mark much. Mark's father ran the company with Paul, and they'd been best friends. But John Barrett died under suspicious circumstances, and left the company to Mark. Needless to say, Paul immediately declared Jason the heir to the company." Roxy glanced at the picture of Jason.
"So why did he run away?" she asked. "A cozy home in Holland with parents who spoil him, and a company waiting for him the instant Paul kicks the bucket. What could possibly be wrong with that?" Lloyd frowned.
"That's the problem, and the reason why I suggested you when Paul called. I have no idea. Paul and Mark both claim that they don't know any reason why, and Jason's parents have refused to speak with me on the subject. I was going to have you fly up to Holland to talk to them, but I think you'd be better off going straight to Canada." Lloyd handed her a sheet of paper. "This is a list of the ship he took, its company, and every place he spent money at in Canada. You're on your own from there." Roxy nodded and examined the paper.
"When's my flight?" she asked.
"Tomorrow."
The next day, at four twenty-two, Roxy stepped off her plane in Quebec. She glanced at her list that Lloyd had given her. One thing was for sure, Jason had gone in style. He'd not simply taken a ship, but a cruise from Holland to Canada. From there he'd stayed two nights in a hotel just outside Ungava Bay. Roxy got a cab and pulled out her laptop. She did a quick search of Holland America Cruise Line and found their number.
"Hi, my name is Roxanne Jones. I was wondering if you have passenger lists of each ship?" She paused. "I'm not sure which ship, but the trip was about six months ago, leaving Holland and docking in Ungava Bay." Another pause. "All right, do you think you could send them to me?" Pause. "What do you mean, no?" Pause. "Listen, ma'am, I'm with the police. I'm a private investigator looking for a missing boy." Pause. "Listen, I need that list! I'm looking for a lost kid, and I know for a fact he was on your ship!" Pause. "Fine." She snapped her cell phone shut and cursed. "Change of plans," she said to the taxi driver, a balding man wearing a plastic fireman's helmet. Roxy paused to wonder about the hat, but she shook her head. "Take me to La Maison Doyon."
The driver took a left and stopped in front of the bed and breakfast after about twenty minutes' driving. She payed him and got out. Upon entering the bed and breakfast, she was met by a young girl with long brown hair pulled back in a braid and big blue eyes.
"How may I help you?" the girl asked. Roxy paused, and then remembered that people spoke French in Quebec.
"Uh, sorry, but I don't understand French," she said, hesitantly.
"Ah, an American. How may I help you?" Roxy smiled in relief.
"I'm a private investigator and I'm looking for a missing teenage boy who stayed here for two days about six months ago. Do you keep records of your guests?" The girl nodded.
"Of course. We have our guests sign in the day that they check in, and then sign out the day they leave." She led Roxy to the desk and disappeared under it. "Six months ago you said?"
"Yeah. In November." The girl reemerged with a black leather book.
"Do you know the date?" Roxy pulled out the paper Lloyd had given her. "Uhm...The seventeenth and eighteenth." The girl flipped to about the middle of the book.
"Here's everyone who signed in on the seventeenth." Roxy scanned the list. There was no sign of Jason's name. She pulled out the picture of Jason and showed it to the girl.
"Recognize him?" she asked. The girl's cheeks tinged pink, and she nodded.
"His name's Mikey. He was really friendly." Roxy smirked and scanned the list. There were two Michaels listed; Michael Monroe and Michael Lynn. Roxy scribbled them down quickly.
"You've been a brilliant help." Roxy glanced at her watch. "You have any vacant rooms?" The girl smiled.
"Of course. Just sign your name here," she said, shoving another black book toward Roxy. "You can have room eleven." She handed Roxy a key, which she tucked into her jeans pocket.
"Okay, thanks. I'll be back later." Roxy turned on her heel and left in search of her dinner.