Page 30 of Murder in the Lighthouse

“On tour in Australia with the band,” Lucien finished. “I wonder if that’s where she’s originally from, Australia? Maybe she traveled all the way to the US to be near Graeme.”

“If that’s true, her behavior is over the top. Because he didn’t reply to any of her emails, she got pissed off,” Brogan added. “Did you read her profile all the way through? She claims that she resides in New Zealand. But she’s on holiday in America. She admits she’s here in Santa Barbara. Do a deep dive into her background and see if we can track her using her cell phone. Or maybe she has a family member we could contact.”

“Brogan, she threatened to stab Dad in the back. I’m all for seeing that she gets the mental help she needs, but we need to locate her and get her off the streets, like today.”

“Agreed. But it would be nice if we got a phone number to track down her family, so they’d at least know what she’s up to.”

“Sure. I’ll start with the New Zealand angle. If she’s from there, maybe we can locate her family or friends who can help us understand her behavior and perhaps provide insight into why she’s fixated on Graeme. We can also contact the local authorities there and see if we can get any history on her. We need to act fast but use caution, so we don’t alarm her or worsen the situation.”

As Lucien began his deep dive, he felt a bit uneasy. He knew that his father was a public figure and that it came with its own set of challenges, but this felt like something else entirely. It made him realize just how much danger his father was in and how important it was to find Florence Brown before it was too late. “I’ll be honest. I haven’t felt this edgy since we helped take down Palmer Riordan, the guy who murdered your dad.”

“Over a song that Rory wrote. Riordan was out of touch with reality. Oh, my God. Florence Brown could be the same type of individual.”

“Yeah,” Lucien replied, typing the woman’s name into an international database. “At least Ms. Brown isn’t wanted by Interpol or the local authorities back home in New Zealand. This says she’s fifty-four and has owned a home in Queenstown for the past twenty-five years.” He pulled up a street view of the house. “That’s what it looks like.”

“It looks like a picturesque town, a nice, normal place to live. Why on earth would she obsess over your dad?”

“No idea. Here we go. I’ve got a cell phone number. I also have a phone number for Florence’s daughter.”

“We should call the daughter. What’s her name?”

“You won’t believe it. Her name’s Indigo Brown.”

“Indigo? Brown? She named her daughter after the band. Oh, God, I hope she isn’t another sibling,” Brogan said as she watched Lucien punch in the numbers for the daughter.

“I was thinking the same thing. Hello? Is this Indigo Brown? Is your mother Florence Brown?”

“Yes, yes, who’s this?” the woman asked in an Aussie accent.

After putting the call on speaker, Lucien identified himself and explained the situation. “So, Indigo, interesting first name, like the band. Any reason your mother would be sending Graeme Sutter flowers?”

“What? My mother has been missing for a week. We’ve been going out of our minds trying to find her. And now you’re telling me she’s in America? You’re calling from America? My God, I can’t believe this is happening?”

“Are you aware your mother’s been emailing my father, Graeme Sutter, for months? Her emails have been fairly harmless up to now. She’s been professing her love for him, that sort of thing, telling him what a fan she is. But today, she sent a threatening note with a very expensive arrangement of flowers that sent him over the edge and into panic mode.”

“Oh, my God, I’m so sorry. Your dad is Graeme Sutter from Indigo. Why didn’t I connect the dots? That must be the four-hundred-dollar charge that showed up on her bank card from a place called Petal Paradise in California. We’ve been tracking her purchases and charges. We’ve been looking for Mum everywhere. Never did we ever think she’d leave New Zealand. Look, this is so embarrassing. But my mum isn’t well. You see, my dad died three months ago. I think my mum must’ve suffered a mental collapse. She’s been acting strangely ever since his funeral. Believe it or not, she insisted we play every one of Indigo’s songs for my father during his wake. Every. Single. Song. On repeat. For three hours. Trust me, this isn’t like her. My mum is about as ordinary and boring as it comes. Please, tell me you know where she is.”

“No. Not exactly. We know she is somewhere in Santa Barbara. If I have the right number, I could track her phone for you.”

“Will you? Please. I’ve been trying to call her. Not one time has she answered the phone. I can try again, though, if you think it would help. Please don’t lock her up over there. I’ll fly there and get her. I swear I will. Please don’t have her arrested.”

“You need to promise you’ll get her some help.”

“Yes, yes, of course I will. I promise.”

“First, we need to locate her,” Brogan pointed out. “Do you have any ideas where she might be staying?”

“Let me think. Oh. Oh. I know. Last Sunday, she had a charge on her bank card that showed up for a posh stay at a hotel with a spa called the Laguna Marq Resort. I thought it was a mistake and disputed the charges in her absence. Oh, my God, I hope I didn’t get her kicked out. This is unbelievable. I can’t believe Mum flew all the way from New Zealand to California alone and then checked into a fancy hotel. That’s twenty-plus hours in the air. And the cost. My dad left her quite flush withmoney, but that flight must’ve cost seven or eight thousand dollars. I’m so sorry that I’m rambling, but I’m truly worried about her chaotic behavior and what she’ll do next.”

“That’s the problem. What she’ll do next? No one knows for sure. How do you want to proceed?”

“Could you go to this spa and find her? I can send you a recent photo.”

“What good will that do?” Lucien said. “Your mum doesn’t know us from Adam.”

“That’s true. But if you explain who you are, she might be willing to sit down and listen to you. She honestly loves your dad’s music. Their entire playlist is a string of good memories for her. I doubt she meant to hurt your father. Please, I need you to buy me time. That’s all I’m asking. I’ll throw some things in a suitcase and catch the earliest flight available. Will you do it? Please, Mr. Sutter. My parents loved Indigo’s music.”

Lucien exchanged looks with Brogan. “Sure. My wife and I will drive down to Santa Barbara and try to—I’m not sure what we’ll do once we get to the hotel—appeal to her sense of right and wrong.”

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