Darkwater Lies

by Robin Caroll

  Yet she didn’t trust that he would.

  “I suppose this was her way of killing two birds with one stone, pardon the pun. Getting rid of a woman she saw as her competition, in a warped and unrealistic way, and punishing the father who abandoned her, making sure he suffered in a way that would be torturous for him personally.” Dimitri felt ill.

  “Let’s finish up with Addy, then go see if your theory is right.” Beau opened the car door and got out.

  This was one time Dimitri hoped he was wrong. But he was pretty sure he wasn’t.

  28

  Addy

  “Beau, you can’t blame Willie. Lissette threatened to hurt his brother and family if he didn’t do what she said.” Addy sat on the little cot sandwiched into a small space in the emergency room, waiting on the doctor to read her CT results. Having been brought in by ambulance apparently put her as priority.

  That or the escort of two police detectives might have had something to do with it.

  “I understand what you’re saying, Addy, but I don’t get to pick and choose who gets charged. That’s a decision for the DA.”

  “But if you don’t arrest Willie, they won’t charge him.” Her heart went out to the young man that Lissette had so shamelessly manipulated.

  Beau gave her the look he’d been giving her since they were kids when she wanted something so obviously unattainable. “You know that’s not an option. I can’t just look the other way.”

  She knew, and his strong sense of ethics was one of the things she most admired about him. But Willie . . . “I know he broke the law, but he really felt like he didn’t have a choice, and I know what that can feel like.”

  She’d had things done to her that were definitely not her choice, and the resulting feelings later made her feel completely out of control. “He did let me go, and he gave me back my cell phone.”

  She pulled it out of the pocket she’d slipped it into before Beau and Marcel had shown up at the warehouse. “Well, the glass is cracked, and the battery’s dead, but still.” Addy knew she was reaching, but Willie didn’t deserve to be punished for being gullible. “Lissette is the one who orchestrated everything.”

  “You know that?” Beau pulled his notebook out of his pocket.

  Addy let out a little groan. “I don’t know it to be fact, of course, but Willie told me.”

  She saw the look that passed between Beau and Marcel. “Well, Willie’s not lied to me that I know of, but Lissette has proven to be a liar.” She glanced over Beau’s shoulder. “Is Dimitri just hanging out in the waiting room?” She hated to leave him out there.

  Beau nodded. “He’s on the phone with the hotel right now. Then he was going to call his dad.”

  Oh. She’d rather not be around for that call. Although, on second thought, maybe Claude would be relieved since he’d made it clear he didn’t want Lissette around at all. Maybe he’d known something the rest of them hadn’t.

  “Can you think of anything else?” Beau tapped his pen against the notebook.

  She shook her head, then regretted it. All of a sudden, the bump on the back of her head really hurt. Maybe because people had been poking and prodding it or maybe because she was just now letting herself register the pain. Either way, it sure hurt like the dickens.

  “Okay. I’m going to head back to the precinct with what to book Neyland on, double-check that the patrol unit got everything we needed, then I’m calling it a day.” Marcel looked from her to Beau several times. “Unless there’s something else?”

  “No. Thanks, Marcel.” Addy gave him a smile. She was starting to come around to liking him.

  “I’ll talk to you in a bit. Go ahead and tell Dimitri he can come back now.” Beau pulled up the chair beside the little cot and dropped beside her. “I was really terrified when we realized you were missing.”

  She took his hand. “I know. I was scared too.” Scared she wouldn’t see her father or Beau or Dimitri again. The emotions still filled her chest. “Thank you, Beau. For everything.” Tears burned her eyes.

  Man, she must be really tired.

  He kissed her hand, then ran a thumb over her knuckles. “You aren’t supposed to scare me like that.”

  “I didn’t mean to.” Her voice cracked as emotions threatened to hold her voice hostage.

  “Just don’t do it again.” Beau’s voice sounded as thick as hers felt.

  “Ads, are you okay?’ Tracey parted the white-and-green curtain and stepped into the small space. She reached over and wrapped her arms around Addy.

  Beau stood up and moved aside. Tracey gave him a glare. “You can’t tell me Addy’s missing, then just hang up on me. We’ll work on your manners later.” She sat on the edge of the narrow cot and hugged Addy again. “Dimitri said you got hit on the head. Are you okay?”

  “Where is Dimitri?” Addy asked. Marcel was supposed to have told him that he could come back here.

  Tracey gave a flick of her wrist. “Marcel said only one person could come back because of space restrictions, and I told Dimitri he’d have to wait since he’d already seen you. He didn’t argue much, but I told him I wouldn’t take long.”

  Beau inched closer to Addy. “I guess I’ll let you two catch up.” He leaned over and gave Addy a hug. “I’ll be in touch soon.”

  “Hey, Beau.” She grabbed his hand and held it tight. “Will you do what you can for Willie? Please?”

  “No matter his reasons, he assaulted you, Addy.”

  “Please, Beau.”

  He let out a sigh. “I’ll keep my opinions out of the report. That’s the best I can do.”

  “Thank you.”

  Beau had barely slipped out of the curtained area before Tracey smoothed the blanket over Addy’s legs. “So, you and Beau?”

  “Have a date on Saturday.” Tomorrow or—she glanced up at the clock on the wall—today.

  “Really?”

  Addy nodded, then regretted it again. “And I have a date with Dimitri on Sunday.”

  Tracey chuckled. “Um, Ads, when I told you to date both of them, I didn’t mean every other day.”

  “Is that bad?” Funny how that possibility didn’t bother her at the moment. Being tied up and not knowing what was going to happen next had made Addy realize she didn’t want to waste any more time. She wanted to figure out where her heart was and what she wanted for her future.

  “No, it’s just . . . sudden. Well, for you. But hey, it’s past time.”

  “I agree. I tell you, girl, they both showed up today to rescue me. Together.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, surprised me too. It was kind of nice. Awkward, though.”

  Tracey laughed. “I can imagine. Well, not really.”

  Addy laughed with her, and it felt good. Really good. “Trace, thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For being my friend all these years. Listening to my problems for forever and never judging me. Giving me advice, even when I didn’t take it. Putting up with me when I’m all whiny and pouty.”

  Tracey chuckled and hugged her. “Girl, that’s what friends are for. You do the same for me.”

  “Maybe, but I just wanted you to know that I might not say it enough, but I love you and I’m thankful for you.”

  Tracey hugged her again. “Oh, the same.” She sat back on the bed and dabbed at her eyes. “Look at you, making me mess up my makeup. Do you know how long it took me to put this eyeliner on?”

  Addy grinned.

  “So, Beau came in to the rescue like a knight in shining armor?”

  “He did. I have to tell you, I was never so happy to see him as in that moment. He came in with Marcel, guns blazing.”

  “Swoon!” Tracey fanned herself with her hand. “Girl that’s the stuff of romance novels.”

  “Tell me about it. Once he saw I was okay and he didn’t need to shoot Willie, all I wanted to do was let him hold me. His arms felt really good around me.”

  “I bet, and I want to hear all about t
hat, but who is Willie?”

  Beau

  “Hey, what all did you find in Larder’s trunk?” Beau leaned back in his chair at the precinct and stared across the desks at Marcel. He’d gone through the inventory list from Jackson Larder’s house and there was nothing listed that could remotely hide the Van Gogh painting. Of course he was past exhausted. Yesterday had been a long day, and Beau and Marcel had dropped Addy’s car off at her father’s before going into work this clear Saturday morning.

  At least Addy had still been asleep. She needed the rest. With any luck, her dad would be able to keep her home today.

  “I don’t think we’ve gotten that listing from evidence yet.”

  “Get it. We need to double-check any list of a painting. He wouldn’t have known immediately what he had, but he’d know it was valuable because it was in the safe. I’m betting a couple of internet searches or carefully asked questions to certain people would let him know what it was and how much it was worth.”

  Marcel nodded and started typing on the computer on his desk. “Thanks for coming in early.”

  “Hey, I want the collar just as badly as you do. I’ll be glad when somebody locates Lissette.”

  “You and me both, my brother.” They had a BOLO out on her, but no one had seen her. Not at her apartment. Not at the hotel. Not even at Claude Pampalon’s house. The regular voodoo haunts like Jackson Square and places in the Quarter hadn’t turned up a single sighting. Unless someone was covering for her and hiding her. He wouldn’t put it past the voodoo people.

  As a courtesy to Addy, Beau had contacted Willie’s brother and made sure they were okay. Both Addy and Willie had been relieved to hear the news.

  “If we can find the painting, we can link it to Claude Pampalon and make an arrest.”

  “It’d be ironic, don’t you think?”

  Marcel leaned back in his chair. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, Lissette went through an awful lot of trouble to get Claude arrested so she could be sure to get her piece of the Pampalon estate. She didn’t need to do a thing since Claude already had things in motion that would have him arrested. She could’ve just sat back and waited a week or so. Ironic.”

  “Okay, here we go.” Marcel sat up and studied his computer. “It’s there. Listed as a painting of flowers.” He shot to his feet. “Holy Toledo, we have a Van Gogh in our evidence locker.”

  “Take it to Nolan, and have him contact someone who can verify it’s really the Van Gogh. If it is, we’ll need to contact the owner. The museum in Cairo, Egypt, where it was stolen. I don’t know who all else.”

  Marcel nodded and rushed out of the room.

  For the umpteenth time Beau checked the time. Barely eight— way too early to call Addy. He hoped she was getting to sleep in. Her father had shown up right after Tracey had arrived, none too happy. The hospital had discharged her last night, and Vincent had demanded she go home with him so he could watch over her. There was no arguing with Vincent Fountaine. Not when it came to his daughter.

  Beau could understand. He wanted to stand guard over her, too, but knew that aside from being in his protection, Addy was safest with Vincent. That was the only comfort that had allowed him to sleep last night.

  Not that he’d gotten much sleep anyway. Horrible dreams had haunted him. Dreams of Addy in a casket. Addy tied up and gagged. Every time, he’d awoken in a cold sweat, heart racing.

  He let out a breath. Until Lissette was located, that case was on hold, but right now, they had a Van Gogh. Most likely a Van Gogh. They could certainly haul Claude Pampalon in for questioning. At least it would keep his mind busy so he didn’t dwell on Lissette being out there somewhere.

  Marcel walked back in. “Nolan’s already got someone on his way to verify the authenticity of the painting. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the guy so excited.” He held up his cell phone. “I took a couple of photos, just in case we needed them. So, what do you want to do while we wait? Please tell me that we get to arrest somebody.”

  “How about we go talk to Claude Pampalon? I can’t promise an arrest, but maybe he’ll slip up and say something he shouldn’t.” The man couldn’t be so lucky all the time.

  “What’re we waiting for?” Marcel grabbed the keys and led the way.

  They were on the road to the Pampalon’s house in the Garden District when Marcel spoke next. “So, are you still keeping your date with Addy tonight?”

  “I’m planning on it. Unless she doesn’t feel up to it.”

  Marcel nodded. “I’m starting to like her more, you know.”

  Beau grinned. “I think that feeling is mutual. I knew you two would like each other if you just gave each other a chance.”

  Marcel shrugged as he sped toward Pampalon’s address. “Maybe subconsciously I didn’t want to like her because she’s the only woman you’ve ever been really interested in since we’ve been partners. Don’t get me wrong, I love my ladies, but you’ve never been one to play the field.”

  “Haven’t ever thought there was much point. Addy’s had my heart for years.”

  “Just be careful, bro, that she doesn’t break it. I don’t want to pick up the pieces. Then I won’t like her again.”

  Beau laughed as Marcel parked in the front drive. “Let’s do this.”

  An older woman answered the door. Beau flashed his badge.

  “I already told the officers who came by last night and earlier this morning that Mr. Pampalon hasn’t seen or heard from Lissette.”

  “We’re not here about that. We need to speak to Mr. Pampalon.”

  She hesitated, then let them in. “Have a seat in here. I’ll get Mr. Claude.”

  They stood in what could only be described as a formal den or sitting room, Beau didn’t rightly know what the upper crust called rooms like this. Rooms with expensive furniture that was usually uncomfortable as all get-out, ugly pictures on the walls only there because of the photographer’s or artist’s name, and trinkets that did nothing but sit on shelves requiring dusting because they were some collector’s edition or something. And books? Those were only like first editions or rare books. A totally useless room that was as environmentally stuffy as it was content stifling.

  “Detectives, how may I help you?” Claude Pampalon looked like he’d gotten a good night’s sleep. No bags under his eyes, grey hair still damp from the shower, and already decked out in the rich man’s uniform of khaki pants and a designer golf shirt.

  “We need to ask you a few questions about the robbery at the hotel.”

  “Oh, not about Lissette?” He cocked his head to the side, then waved them toward the set of four chairs in the center of the room, sitting atop one of those expensive imported area rugs. “Sit, please.”

  Beau sat on the edge of one of the chairs. It was as uncomfortable as he’d assumed. “No, we have a BOLO out on Lissette, so it’s only a matter of time before she’s apprehended and brought in for questioning.”

  Claude sat in one of the other chairs, glancing up at Marcel.

  “Sorry, I need to stand. Stretch my legs and all.”

  “So,” Claude ignored Marcel and looked at Beau. “What can I do for you, then, Detective?”

  Beau pulled out his notebook and pen. “Let’s discuss having Poppy Flowers in your possession, shall we?”

  29

  Dimitri

  “Thank you for coming, Mr. Dimitri.” Tilda opened the door as soon as he drove up and got out of the car. “I didn’t know what else to do. They said it has nothing to do with Lissette.” She stepped aside so he could enter. “They’re in the sitting room.”

  Dimitri smiled at Tilda, but he couldn’t really assure her. He knew why the detectives were here, and he’d been the one to tell on his father. Claude would blow a stack when he found out, especially because Dimitri would have to testify against him, if it came to that. Claude’s threats of disowning him would probably come true this time. Only problem with that was he’d still be behind bars. Unless Beau and Mar
cel couldn’t find the Van Gogh.

  He took a deep breath outside the sitting-room doors. Lord, I need Your guidance. Your word says to honor my father and mother, but You are also a God of justice. You are the God of truth. It’s one of Your commandments not to steal. Please, Lord, give me wisdom and strength. Amen.

  Dimitri exhaled and opened the door. His father and Beau sat in chairs across from each other. Marcel stood behind his partner, facing Claude.

  “What are you doing here?” Claude’s face went pale. He knew Dimitri had all the information necessary to put him away. Even if it was Claude’s word against Dimitri’s.

  Dimitri sat down, nodding at Beau and Marcel. “Tilda called. She thought I might be needed here.”

  “You aren’t. You should leave.” Claude’s expression was hard.

  “It’s fine if he stays.” Beau tapped his pen on his notebook. “I asked you about the Van Gogh painting Poppy Flowers, and you said you didn’t know what I was talking about.” Beau glanced at Dimitri, then back to Claude. “It’s been a minute, so maybe you’ve had a chance to reconsider that answer.”

  His father glared at him, but Dimitri didn’t flinch. His father had been responsible for many horrible things over the years, and finally his deeds had caught up to him. Dimitri wouldn’t lie to save his father’s hide. Not when his father had made the choice time and again not to be the best person he could.

  “Here, let me remind you what it looks like. It’s an oil painting on a canvas. Smaller than most of Van Gogh’s work, it’s only about two feet by two feet at most. It’s a painting of yellow and red poppies in a vase, with a dark background.” Beau looked up from his notes to stare at Claude. “Ringing any bells with you yet?”

  “I see a lot of paintings by renowned artists. The hotel has many of them in the vault. Perhaps this is one of them?” Claude tried to appear nonchalant, but Dimitri recognized the nervousness in his demeanor.