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was ushering her back to them.
    â€œI just want a quick look through the window,” Rhonda said.
    â€œI checked into your botulism story.” Lalonde retrieved his glasses and notepad. “I understand the alleged Mr. Holland didn’t enter a hospital until his vision was already impaired. Also, he couldn’t swallow and was partially paralyzed.” He peered at her over his glasses. “Any idea why he waited so long to get help?”
    â€œNo.” But she’d wondered the same thing.
    â€œMarcus hated hospitals,” Rhonda said, rejoining them.
    Lalonde consulted his notes. “A woman named Simone Archambault was also affected, although her symptoms weren’t as severe. She went to a hospital outside Paris, which could be why your lawyers didn’t know about her, Miss Holland.”
    Casey noticed Rhonda’s frown. Another woman in Dad’s life wouldn’t be welcome news.
    â€œDoes that name mean anything to either of you?”
    â€œNot at all,” Casey replied.
    Rhonda shook her head. “Did she survive?”
    â€œYes, it seems she told the medical staff what was wrong with her. After her recovery, Miss Archambault left France, then vanished. Relatives haven’t heard from her in two years, though they did say she used to live in Victoria.” Lalonde flipped a page. “They gave us a landline number, but we haven’t been able to reach her. It seems she doesn’t have a computer or a cell phone. Relatives said she’s an eccentric who’s been living off the grid. Local authorities are trying to track her down.”
    â€œDad had no friends or family in Victoria that I recall. He did have friends living in other areas of Vancouver Island, though; Ladysmith and Qualicum Beach, I think. Maybe she was a client.”
    â€œDid you mention Marcus to the Archambault woman’s relatives?” Rhonda asked Lalonde. “Do they know him?”
    â€œThey knew that she and a man in his fifties had shared the same table at Alvin’s All-Canadian Café, but they claim to know nothing about him.” Lalonde looked at Krueger, who came to join them. “Also, the restaurant has new owners, and we haven’t been able to locate any staff who worked there back then.”
    â€œIf I knew the family’s address,” Casey said, “it might trigger a memory.” No point in adding that Simone Archambault’s relatives might tell her more than they’d tell a cop.
    â€œHow old is this Simone woman?” Rhonda asked. “What’d she look like?”
    Lalonde stared at her a moment, then flipped another page. “Seventy-five and petite.”
    Casey and Rhonda exchanged perplexed looks.
    â€œAsk Vincent Wilkes about her. He would have known Dad’s clients and many of his contacts,” Casey said. “So, when will you guys be finished with the house?”
    â€œMy advice, Miss Holland, is to stay away until the killer’s caught.” He turned to Krueger. “Escort these ladies off the premises.”
    Casey fumed as she and Rhonda headed for the front yard. Hell, she hadn’t asked for any of this to happen and she didn’t deserve to be treated like gum on the bottom of his shoe. Krueger stayed with them until they reached the road.
    As they started toward her car, Casey said, “Let’s talk to the neighbor.”
    The properties were divided by a high wooden fence. Casey had to ring the bell twice before the guy who’d been watching them from the deck opened the door. Up close, he was just a pimply teenager. While he gaped at Casey, he pulled up cotton gym shorts which promptly slumped back down onto narrow hips.
    After introducing herself, Casey said, “The man who lived next door was my dad.”
    â€œOh.” He blushed. “Sorry about what happened.”
    â€œThanks, and this is my friend, Rhonda.”
    He nodded. “I’m Gil.”
    â€œNice