Mystery in the Darkest Shadow

by Byers, Beth

  He, however, could guess much about me. It was safer for both of us to keep quiet, and so we did. I told him where I was, what I was doing, and how to find me. He did later when he realized that he was likely to die. Make no mistake, my brother was murdered. The murder was the direct result of his actions and you owe him nothing. I know you. I know you and I know you’ll feel responsible to find justice.

  You aren’t.

  But, I also know you, and I know you’ll do what you can to fix things. Severine—I’m not sure that can be done. It’s not your job to do those things either. I know my brother, and I know he wrapped up what he could tight. I know my other brothers, and I know that they are vultures waiting to scoop up what they can. I also have a pretty good idea of the type of men my brothers associated with. Any of them could have killed your parents.

  Any of them would kill you. Your life matters more than the money, the property, and who killed your parents. Speaking of your parents, I never met your mother, and I can’t speak to her. But I did meet your father. Not my brother, but your father. I met him, I saw the love he had for you in his eyes. He sent you to me because he loved you. Because he wanted you to have something different than he created.

  I will never stop loving you.

  Love, your aunt,

  Mary Chastity (once—Solange DuNoir)

  Severine stared at the letter, no longer seeing the words but the woman who wrote them. She knew that Mary Chastity’s family had been the reason for her deciding why she’d left and joined the convent. She’d once said her reason for leaving had been because her family wasn’t what it should be, and she couldn’t continue as she had before.

  Severine rose and knew it was time to talk to her uncles. Or was it? Perhaps it was time to make things tense for her uncles instead. She told Lisette, “What if I found one of the properties that’s important to the work and sold it? Or—” Her eyes lit with mischief. “Donated it to a church.”

  “I think you need to talk to Charles about that,” Lisette said. “And I think you’ll be murdered in your sleep.”

  Severine’s mouth twisted. “How—how do we win against people who murder so easily?”

  “I don’t know,” Lisette said. “You could sell it all and run.”

  Severine snorted and then asked, “Where would we go?”

  “We?” Lisette slowly smiled. “We could go anywhere with all that money your father…what’s the word for getting money illegally?”

  “Criminalized?” Severine suggested just to see Lisette giggle. She grunted a moment later and held her hand to her face. “Careful, Bernadette will be back with her poultices. I don’t know if you’re aware, but you smell like something died on your face.”

  “I’m aware,” Lisette grunted. “My nose has given in.”

  Severine looked up at the sound outside the door and found Bernadette. “I read it.”

  “I figured you had. Are you going to storm from the house or wail?”

  Severine shook her head.

  “Well, that’s a miracle.” Bernadette eyed Severine carefully. “You’ll do.”

  “How do we get out of this?” Severine asked Bernadette. “Our lives are wrapped in crime and if we try to take it apart, we’ll probably be murdered.”

  “We assess first. Don’t jump to the end when we don’t even know the beginning.”

  Bernadette handed Severine a small box and then another to Lisette. “You know my proclivities.”

  “What does that mean?” Lisette asked, opening her box to find a silver ring set with a glistening black stone inside.

  “The compartment opens,” Severine told Lisette. “Don’t let what’s inside touch you.”

  Lisette’s eyes widened and she slowly pushed back the black stone, which slid partway to reveal a small amount of powder.

  “You’ll live if it gets on your skin. Scrub your hands right away,” Bernadette told Lisette as if they were talking about hot soup instead of deadly poison. “It’s deadly in the mouth and the eyes. Maybe for your lover.”

  “I thought you were a nun,” Lisette muttered.

  Severine laughed at that.

  Bernadette looked between them and said, almost self-righteously, “God gave us skills for a reason. Use them wisely because you’ll have to face what you’ve done eventually.”

  “That’s what she says after she gives us deadly poison and expects us to wear it on our fingers, casually?”

  Severine placed the ring on the middle finger of her left hand and shrugged, unbothered.

  “She’s why you’re weird,” Lisette announced. Severine would have been offended but she knew Lisette wasn’t bothered by Severine’s differences.

  Severine nodded at Lisette who put the ring on her finger and then grinned widely. “I think I might be a little more like you than I expected.”

  “I ordered a special set of barrettes for Severine on my way here,” Bernadette told them. “She’ll have to share. Each has a very sharp pin. You’ll use that if you need something to strike with more than sneak with.”

  “What’s next?” Lisette demanded. “A poisoned and spiked collar for Anubis?”

  Bernadette snorted and then said, “I’ve already taken care of Anubis.”

  “What does that mean?” Lisette asked quickly, her gaze wide and fixed on the dog who was curled up on the floor. At her look, his tail wagged and then he adjusted his head on his paws.

  “I have an address for you,” Bernadette told Severine. “You’ll need to go and ask for Agnes.”

  “Agnes?”

  “Agnes. Parish secretary. A bit plump. Something of a chatterbox. She knits, to an excess. She’ll give you some things for the children and a note.”

  “Bernadette,” Severine said, “you don’t get to keep me out of this because you’ve known me since I was a child.”

  “She’s been sitting outside of one of the addresses I got from Charles. It took her less than an hour to discover details. Those details are in her note, so don’t let anyone else see it.”

  Severine shook her head and then paused. “How are the children?”

  “They're fine. I’m having another parish woman stop by the aunt’s home. She’ll evaluate, and we’ll move from there.”

  “That aunt can’t have those children until we are sure they’re safe. Even then—” Severine shook her head. “We can’t just abandon them.”

  Bernadette’s expression told Severine who was older, wiser, and more experienced, so Sev took the better part of valor and left Lisette to Bernadette’s tender ministrations.

  She hurried to change into one of her more sensible dresses and then went to find Charles. “Shaw said that Van Ausdell would talk to you. I extended to him an invitation to dinner.”

  Severine nodded, hoping that they wouldn’t get him killed too. She told Charles about the letter and he asked, “Are you all right?”

  She nodded, surprised it was true. But she had been utterly certain of Sister Mary Chastity’s love long before she’d left the nunnery, and it had carried her through the days since then. She fiddled with her poison ring and then added, “Bernadette has pulled in some of the older women of the local parish.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Probably that there are a bunch of clever older women with sharp eyes watching things that they shouldn’t be involved in.”

  “Oh that’s just lovely.”

  Severine rubbed her brow and then said, “Sister Mary Chastity sent Bernadette to help deconstruct the crimes our family is involved in.”

  “How do you know that? I thought she came because she never wanted to be a nun anyway.”

  Severine shrugged a little, trying to find the words and then finally said, “They’re best friends. They think the same. Neither of them steps aside when they see something happening that they don’t like. The best we can do is try to keep a handle on whatever trouble she’s planning.”

  Chapter 16

  The woman who answered the door met Se
verine’s gaze, cooed a little as though Severine were a five-year-old, and then said, “So nice of you to stop by for Sister Bernadette.”

  Severine closed her eyes. Would Bernadette put her wimple back on and—Severine pressed her lips together and carefully didn’t look at Charles. She faced the woman who was on the north side of sixty years old. Regardless of her age, the woman had sharp eyes and an expression that brooked no nonsense. Severine could see immediately why Bernadette had chosen this one.

  “I was an orphan raised in the same nunnery where she lives,” Severine told the woman, knowing she was helping Bernadette’s manipulation become even more effective. “She has been telling me what to do since I met her.”

  The woman laughed and then gave her a sealed envelope. “Don’t lose that, dear.” That was followed by a cardboard box of knitted things. “And these are for the orphans.”

  Severine paused. “How did you know about them?”

  “Oh, I telephoned to tell her I had information, and she told me about them.”

  Severine nodded as if unsurprised and guessed that Bernadette was using the knitting as a cover for the visit. When they returned to the car, Severine asked, “Do you think that someone is following us?”

  Charles glanced at Severine and then looked behind them. He started to shake his head and then paused. “Maybe. Why?”

  His tone said that he wasn’t shocked by the idea, but he didn’t want her worrying. She barely kept herself from scowling at him. They were becoming more and more fond of each other, and she was realizing that with that fondness, he shifted from a man fulfilling her father’s request to a man who was protective.

  “Why else with the knitting? The letter was sneaky. The box of knitting was something to take away with us. Charles, Bernadette and Mary Chastity did not stay in the nunnery during the war. If they think we might be followed, chances are high that we are being followed.”

  Charles nodded. “She told me to keep an eye out.”

  Severine frowned. “We have to stop protecting each other from uncomfortable truths. What we did led to that man’s death. A letter is coming that might tell us why, but also—Charles, if you think we’re being followed, I need to know. If Bernadette is using locals and pretending to still be a nun, we need to know. If little Lettie saw the person who killed Mr. Sidney and her parents, we all need to look after those children. Lisette shouldn’t have been off on her own. Do we even know where Thorne and Oliver are and what they’re up to? We’re too divided. We need to be united if we’re going to get through this.”

  Charles didn’t argue. “We should have a family meeting.”

  Severine took a deep breath. “We need to do just that.”

  Severine and Charles made their way back to the house, and on the way, Severine felt certain that at least two cars were following them. She shivered, wishing that she weren’t so paranoid. When she reached the house, she paused again. There was another car parked outside of the house. It was a cab, so it could be anyone on the other side of that door. Severine walked up to her house slowly with Charles, realizing that she was worried and bothered without even going inside.

  What would they face this time? Severine hadn’t had enough sleep to prepare for anyone. She reached the door, glanced at Charles, took a deep breath and went to let herself in when Fabian opened the door for her.

  “It’s the spoiled cousin,” Fabian told her. “She’s in the parlor, insisting on waiting for you.”

  He didn't seem pleased, and he was clearly unimpressed by the status of cousin given that he’d opened the door before they’d had a chance to do the same for themselves. He’d wanted to warn them. He must have been waiting just outside the parlor door ensuring that Florette had to remain in that room. No snooping, no hijinks.

  Severine lifted her eyebrows and then went inside to find Florette pacing the parlor. “I’m sorry about ambushing you with Henry,” her cousin began the moment Severine entered the room. “I told him over and over again you wouldn’t be interested in your cousin, but—”

  “But I’m rich?”

  Florette nodded, meeting Severine's gaze with the deep blush. “You don’t understand what my father is like, and he was behind it as well. He said that you were—” Florette blushed deeply and then whispered, “Barely a member of the family but that the money is ours.”

  Severine was no longer shaken by what her family thought of her. Instead she asked, “Have you heard of Solange?”

  “Our aunt?” Florette nodded. “She died. I don’t remember how.”

  Severine shook her head, but she didn’t explain. “Do you have pictures of her?”

  Florette paused again. “I think there must be a picture of her in our grandmother’s things. They’re in the attic. I suppose I could look.”

  Severine let it go. “Why are you here?”

  “Father isn’t your friend, Severine.” Florette looked away. “He can never know I told you, but he’s planning on pressuring you to move in with our family, and—and—and—don’t do it.” She rubbed her arms and then shivered.

  Severine glanced at Charles and then back at Florette. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Father found out about Andre.” She shifted again, and Severine saw a flash of pain cross Florette’s face.

  “Did your father hurt you?”

  Florette’s bottom lip trembled. Severine gestured to Charles. “Get Bernadette, would you?”

  He nodded and then hurried out of the parlor. A tear slipped down Florette’s face. “I thought Andre might not hurt me, too. I know he’s not a good man, Severine, but maybe he wouldn’t be as bad as Father.”

  Severine leaned back. She didn’t reach to her cousin. She didn’t want to hurt her further. Severine pressed her hand against her forehead. The pain was intense this time and she was relieved when Bernadette appeared.

  “She’s been beaten,” Severine told Florette. “This is our aunt Solange’s best friend.”

  Florette’s eyes widened and then let Bernadette help her from the room.

  “I wish I could trust that. Every time she reaches out, I wonder if she’s been sent by her father or Grandmére or someone else. Trying to get into my life and find out what we’re up to,” Severine told Charles. “Did the mail come?”

  Charles nodded wordlessly and handed Severine a letter that was addressed to her with a hand she didn’t know. Severine opened it, locking the door to the parlor before she did. It contained a simple note.

  Miss DuNoir,

  Reaching out to me, if anyone realizes, will likely kill me. What happens to me is the hand of fate and not your fault. I’ve been a walking dead man for a long time and deserved death even longer. As do these men:

  Alphonse DuNoir

  Henry DuNoir Sr.

  Antoine Grantley

  John Bostick

  Harland Ruggles

  I don’t know which of them arranged your father’s death, but it was certainly one of them or all of them working together. They, along with your father who was their leader, have long since worked together to lie, cheat, and steal. Anyone who works for your father’s company is not to be trusted. Anyone in your family is suspect. Anyone associated with your father is someone to be careful around. Police officers, judges, elected officials are all men who have likely been corrupted by or purchased by those five men. Nothing matters to them more than power.

  Be careful, Miss DuNoir.

  With deepest regrets for my actions and the fate I have brought upon myself. I hope that you will trust the experience of a dead man,

  N. Sidney

  Severine shook her head as she handed the letter to Charles and collapsed into a chair. “I want that tea from Bernadette and that’s when you know something is wrong.”

  “It’s not that bad,” Charles said. “It’s just not coffee.”

  Severine snorted. “She didn’t give you what she gave me.”

  Charles focused on the letter, his expression turning grim as he read. Sh
e rose when he’d finished, taking the note back from him. “We’re not further ahead.”

  “I know,” Charles agreed. “If anything we’ve gone from no trails to follow to too many.”

  “I think we might have to expect that we aren’t going to find out who killed my parents.”

  “We already know who killed them.” Charles tapped the letter. “One of them. They were on your father’s list as well.”

  “Those should have been father’s closest friends. In fact—” Severine hurried to the office, unlocked the door, and dug out the notebook. She looked at the two lists side-by-side and said, “Look at the names that don’t overlap.” Severine read them aloud:

  Andre Charpentier

  Charles Brand

  Nathaniel Sidney

  Jarrod Van Ausdell

  She paused and then said, “Nathaniel Sidney was a friend of Father’s as a child. He and Jarrod both. Andre is his stepson. And you—the person he trusted with me and his business. Charles—” Severine paced and then said, “These names are all people who Father should have been able to trust. His business partners, his brothers, his childhood friends, his stepson.”

  “Severine, your father—”

  “They were also people who could have benefited from his death, except for Mr. Sidney and you.”

  Charles shook his head. “According to Shaw, your father was actively working against Sidney. My position for your father’s estate makes me money, Sev. A lot more money than I’d have made without him.”

  Severine disregarded his statement. “Charles, look at this page. Father looked at these names over and over again. It’s wrinkled. The notebook, after years of being closed and hidden away, still opens to this page.” She shook her head. “He knew he was being hunted. Just like we do.”

  “All right?” Charles waited as Severine paced.

  “He set up you for me. He contacted the sister who had the integrity to leave the family behind and he set her up for me. He knew he might die.”

  “All right—” Charles repeated. He agreed with that much.