A Dark Horse

by Cooper, Blayne

  When Natalie explained why she’d come back to New Orleans and what Misty had seen at the Dixie Brewery the night of Josh’s murder, the police had listened politely, and then promptly told her to go home and forget about what Misty had said. Apparently, junkies weren’t reliable eyewitnesses. Natalie pressed, but quickly hit a stone wall. The entire case around Crisco and Josh’s murder seemed to be an old, but still very raw nerve that no one in the NOPD wanted to aggravate.

  When Natalie mentioned Detective Lejeune’s name during the interview, she was met with cold, closed faces and arms crossed tightly over chests. Things had wrapped up quickly after that.

  Exasperated and appalled, Natalie stormed out of the station and hailed a cab. Natalie wondered briefly if she had somehow, in another life, wronged the City of New Orleans.

  * * *

  “How can she not live here anymore?” Natalie asked as she stood outside Adele’s Creole Cottage. The stained glass windows that the detective had loved were gone, replaced by clear glass. So it must be true. Still, it didn’t want to register.

  A young Asian woman—Sun Kim, according to her introduction—stepped out onto the porch and repeated what she’d just said. For the third time. “Mr. Odette sold us this house about two years ago. I’m sorry, I never knew his wife. But I did see him with a cute little boy once when we came by to look at the house. We live here now.” She gave Natalie a stony-eyed stare. “And we keep a gun in the house.”

  Natalie blinked a few times. “Okay. But do you—”

  “I don’t know where Detective Odette and Detective Lejeune moved. Or have a forwarding number.”

  “But—”

  “Try Google.” And with that, the woman ran out of patience, walked back into her house, and slammed the door behind her.

  Natalie’s head snapped back. “Fine!” Trudging to the curb, she plopped down and dropped her bag next to her. Taking a deep breath, she bit the bullet and dialed Detective Lejeune’s number, only to be greeted by a canned message stating the number was no longer in service. “Where are you?” Unwilling to give up, Natalie found the nonemergency police number and tried that.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, we don’t have a Detective Odette or a Detective Lejeune with the NOPD.”

  “Yes, you do. Lejeune is spelled L-E-J—”

  “I know how it’s spelled. I’m sorry I can’t help you, ma’am.”

  “Do you have a number—?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Stop saying that! Please. Someone must know something!”

  “Look,” a deep sigh, “I’ve never heard of Detective Odette, but Detective Lejeune hasn’t worked for the NOPD for more than three years, which is two years longer than I’ve been on the force. I heard the name, is all. That’s all I know. Well, that, and she’s not a cop here anymore.”

  Natalie murmured her thanks and hung up. She looked skyward and squinted into the bright blue, more than a little surprised that it wasn’t storming. She felt the deluge and thunder keenly, just on the inside. Elbow resting on her knee, she cradled her chin with her upturned palm and fought back tears. Things were falling apart. How could Detective Lejeune not work at the NOPD when it was so obvious that she was dedicated to her job?

  It took a moment to collect herself, but she did, and refused to allow the tears to fall. She dug through her bag and pulled out a small laptop. “Okay, Sun Kim, I’m taking your advice. Please don’t have a password protected Wi-Fi connection.”

  Her search query was simple: “Detective Adele Lejeune” & “New Orleans.” What she found left her rooted to her spot on the curb for the next hour as she read. This time her tears fell unbidden. Finally, still upset and bone-weary, she stood and crammed her computer back into her bag as she took stock of her situation. Natalie had already missed her flight back to Madison.

  Pulling out her cell phone, she called the number she’d programmed moments before. “Hi. I’d like to book a room, please.”

  * * *

  It was only a ten-minute walk from Adele’s former residence to the Touro Street Inn, a brightly colored and unusually large Creole home from the 1860s that sat behind several tall crepe myrtles and an exotic-looking palm tree. The midafternoon sun had sent the temperature into the mid-sixties and Natalie stuffed her jacket into her bag as she walked. Clad in a simple V-neck, lightweight sweater and faded skinny jeans she shivered even though she was far from cold. Natalie climbed the three wooden steps to the tiny porch, and then maneuvered around several tall bags of planting soil and a few odd garden tools, to ring the doorbell.

  When no one answered, Natalie followed the instructions she’d been given on the phone and went inside. She kept walking straight through the house and out the back door until she entered a lush, green courtyard. Black slate flagstones created paths that cut through generous beds of plants, and several small clusters of wrought-iron tables, chairs and benches made for cozy seating areas. A gurgling fountain stood proudly in the center.

  Natalie’s eyes instantly fastened onto the back of a woman who was pouring fresh dirt into a bed of deep purple blooms. She let go of the door and jumped when it let out a high-pitched squeak, then slammed shut. Natalie’s stomach flipped and she set her overnight bag down and wiped damp palms against her jeans.

  “I know, I know.” Adele waved a careless hand in the air and dropped to her knees so she could gently spread the soil around the flowers. “Ugh. Next I’ll take care of that noisy door. But first, Georgia, could you bring me some different gloves, please? Somehow, I ended up with Landry’s. Mine are under the sink, I think.” She pulled off the too-big gloves and tossed them onto a trash pile a few feet away.

  Natalie swallowed hard at the sound of Adele’s gentle drawl. That voice. It was as silky and feminine as a tender caress and every bit as lovely as she remembered. But she suspected it would only stay that way for a few seconds more. “Sorry,” Natalie began, “I didn’t see Georgia when I came in, but I’d be happy to go back inside and get your gloves.”

  Adele’s head snapped sideways at the words and her eyebrows crawled so far up her forehead they disappeared behind tousled golden bangs. Natalie noticed the detective’s hair had been shorn into the longish pixie cut she’d favored five years earlier.

  Wordlessly, Adele sat back on her heels and stared at Natalie with an icy expression as though she was the last person on earth she expected to see walking toward her. And that probably wasn’t far from the truth.

  “Hello,” Natalie said quietly, completely unable to read Adele’s closed face and trying not to stare at the thin, slightly jagged scar that ran from Adele’s temple to almost the corner of her eye. Natalie’s stomach clenched at the thought of how that must have hurt. “I called earlier and spoke to the inn’s manager, Georgia, I think. She said you weren’t available to come to the phone.”

  Adele inclined her head, her curious expression the only sign of a thaw. “We’re closed for the month for renovations. Leave.”

  Natalie blinked a few times. That was quick. “I—”

  Adele’s eyes turned to slits. “Why are you here?”

  “Well, I—”

  “Nope. Nope. Let me guess,” Adele said with sudden faux brightness. “Another missing sibling is lost in my fair city, and you’re here looking for someone to blame if he or she doesn’t make it home in time for Santa?”

  Natalie winced. “No,” she replied needlessly.

  “No? Then you must be here to rub salt in my wounds. Again. But you’re way too late to inflict the maximum damage. My life hit rock bottom almost two years ago.”

  Callous sarcasm didn’t look good on Adele. But that’s my fault, isn’t it? A lump rose in Natalie’s throat, but she refused to take the bait. “I’m here because we need to talk.”

  “We don’t have anything to say.” Adele returned to her flowers, presenting Natalie with her back and effectively dismissing her.

  “Okay, then I think you’ll want to hear what I have to say,” Natalie tri
ed again, her frown deepening.

  “You thought wrong.”

  Flustered, Natalie opened her mouth and let it slam shut before finally saying, “I want to apologize.”

  “I must not be making myself clear, Ms. Abbott.”

  Ouch.

  “I’m not interested in what you want. And I’m not interested in apologies.”

  “Please—”

  “No!” And just like that, ice turned to fire. Adele growled, the sound vibrating from deep within her chest.

  Natalie felt a sliver of apprehension. She’d experienced Adele’s gentleness, but never her wrath. She was only hoping not to be thrown out on her ear before she’d had a chance to explain. “Okay, I can’t make you listen. But I’m going to say this anyway. I’m sorry for what I said to you the last time we were together. I was cruel and I was wrong. I didn’t mean it, even then, but I said it anyway to hurt you.”

  Forgetting about her gloves, Adele plunged her hands into the sack of dirt and began to fill in a bare area of the flowerbed as though Natalie wasn’t even there.

  “I was angry and I let my mouth get away from me. You were nothing but kind to me.”

  Adele clenched a fist, compacting a handful of dark soil into a ball. She let it fall from her fingers and leaned forward on her hands, making deep impressions into the soft, loose dirt. “You should see yourself out.”

  “When you told me about turning in Officer Morrell for what he’d done, I was afraid. I was afraid that I couldn’t handle things if they somehow got worse and Josh’s killer didn’t go to jail. Crisco getting caught right away and confessing to the crime, was one of two bright spots during the worst time in my life. It was like a tiny life preserver in an ocean of heartbreak that I could take back to my parents.”

  Natalie could see Adele struggle with herself. She watched the rise and fall of Adele’s shoulders and saw her ribs expand through her thin T-shirt as she drew and then released a deep breath. Heart hammering, Natalie waited for the inevitable detonation, but it never came. Instead, Adele simply stared straight ahead like a statue.

  “The other bright spot was your unexpected friendship,” Natalie said, remembering, and allowing the comforting feeling to fill her. “And it came at a time when I needed it so much. Then, I felt like I lost both of those good things in the very same instant and I reacted horribly.”

  Adele still wouldn’t look at her.

  Natalie tilted her head toward the heavens for assistance. “I’m so, so sorry. When I accused you of not continuing to look for Josh…” She sighed. “Well, that was just bullshit.”

  Adele finally turned to face her. The look of cold anger she had worn only seconds before had been replaced by an open, injured expression. “You were an asshole.”

  “Yes,” Natalie agreed unequivocally, hating the look of hurt even more than anger. “But this asshole is truly sorry. She knows she was wrong and is doing her best to beg for your forgiveness.”

  Adele ran her hand across her forehead, smearing it with dark soil. She hesitantly admitted, “You’re, um, you’re not doing too badly, I guess.”

  “Good. I’m just getting started.”

  “But what you accused me of… ” Adele’s face twisted as though she was hearing the cutting words all over again. “I would never use you just to try to make myself feel better, and I would never give up on a kid who needed me. Never.”

  “I know,” Natalie said solemnly. Now for the hard part. Even though Adele had been proven right, and Natalie was sorry, a tiny part of her still felt conflicted and resentful. But she knew she had to get past it. “Turning in Morrell, it was the right thing to do. I was just too wrapped up in my own suffering to realize or even to care. It felt like you were picking Crisco over Josh and over me. It didn’t seem fair or just. It just hurt.” She wanted to elaborate but the sudden flashing of Adele’s eyes stopped her.

  “You think you were the only one hurt?” Adele’s normally light voice was low and severe. “You have no idea. And you kicked me in the teeth while I was down.”

  Natalie nodded. “I did.”

  “Natalie!” Adele let out an explosive exhale. “How am I supposed to have a fight with you if you agree with everything I say?”

  Natalie almost let out a burst of inappropriate laughter at Adele’s truly distressed expression. “I want to make up. I don’t want to fight with you.”

  Adele just grunted. “Maybe I do. You walked out during the last one.”

  “Okay,” Natalie allowed carefully. “Then this is your chance to say anything you want. I won’t run away even when the truth hurts.” When Adele still didn’t seem satisfied, Natalie added, “Or we can duke it out, if we must. But you should know that I bite.”

  Adele grudgingly rolled her eyes.

  Finally, Natalie felt confident enough to allow the barest hint of a smile to chase its way across her lips. “Can we at least really sit down and talk? I’m more than willing to continue to grovel, but you don’t look very comfortable perched in the dirt while I do it.”

  Adele was obviously torn, but after an uncomfortably long period of deliberation that had Natalie literally squirming, she finally nodded. “Yeah. A chair, for a few minutes anyway, would be good.”

  Natalie didn’t want to be on some sort of timer for their conversation, but she bit her tongue, acknowledging that this was progress and she’d be an idiot to do anything to mess it up. She extended a hand to help Adele up, but the other woman waved her off.

  Instead, Adele’s hand disappeared into the flowerbed and she drew out a wooden cane with a large silver ball that served as a handle. With visible effort, she pushed unsteadily to her feet.

  Natalie’s eyes widened. The scar was bad enough, but this? She’d read online that Adele had been injured in an arrest gone wrong, but she had no idea…

  Adele walked slowly to one of the small iron tables, leaning on the cane as she went. She stood tall and proud, but her limp was pronounced and each step looked painful.

  Dismayed, Natalie gaped, not knowing what to say, but feeling the sting behind her eyes that signaled impending tears.

  “It’s worse than normal today because I’ve been up and down a bunch of times,” Adele admitted as she sat down heavily, obviously aware of Natalie’s internal struggle. “Some days I don’t even need the cane at all until the evening or when I get tired.”

  Natalie was astounded to find that the budding affection she’d felt for her new friend all those years ago was still there, and so strong that she had to stop herself from pulling Adele into her arms and fiercely hugging her. She hated the fact that Adele had been hurt so badly. All was clearly not forgiven yet, but they would get there and then move forward. Natalie promised herself that right then. “That still sucks.”

  Adele chuffed out a laugh and looked pleasantly surprised that Natalie’s reply hadn’t contained a trace of pity, just the unvarnished truth. “Yeah, it does.”

  Natalie moved to stand directly in front of Adele and gave into what she’d wanted to do for the last couple of moments. Daringly, and with painstaking slowness, she placed two fingers gently under Adele’s chin and lifted it a bit higher.

  Their eyes met and locked.

  With every ounce of tenderness inside her, Natalie brushed Adele’s cheek and forehead with the pad of her thumb. The corner of Natalie’s mouth quirked. “You, uh, you have some dirt on your face.” The skin beneath her thumb was achingly soft and grew warmer with the tender touch.

  It was Adele’s slightly confused, brown-eyed stare that dropped away first. Awkwardly, she cleared her throat a little before speaking. “Thanks.”

  With an inward sigh, Natalie withdrew her hand and took a seat across from Adele. She still had so much to say, about Misty, and Josh, and a million other things, and so much she wanted to ask about Adele’s injuries, and her job and family, and this inn. And she still had to get Adele to forgive her and truly mean it.

  It would have all been overwhelming except for on
e thing: for the first time while in the city of New Orleans, Natalie Abbott was exactly where she wanted to be.

  Chapter Eight

  Adele listened patiently and emotionlessly as Natalie explained Misty’s overdose, the phone call that prompted Natalie’s trip, and Crisco’s innocence when it came to Josh’s murder.

  It was clear that Adele’s nonreaction left Natalie floundering. Natalie squeezed the sides of her own head in disbelief. “What do you mean you don’t care?”

  Okay, saying she didn’t care was a lie and Adele knew it. But what really set her blood aflame was that clearly Natalie knew it too.

  It wasn’t that Adele didn’t care about Misty’s death. That was tragic. It wasn’t that she didn’t care about who really killed Josh. His death hadn’t just been a low point in her career, she’d felt it deeply, and it had kicked off a chain of events that still had Adele reeling. And it wasn’t that she didn’t believe Josh’s rightful killer should be behind bars. That was so obvious it was insulting to think otherwise. It was the fact that Adele couldn’t do anything about any of those things that left her hollow.

  Adele wanted to tell Natalie that there wasn’t a realistic chance of solving the crime after all this time, and even if there was, she wasn’t the woman to do it. Instead, Adele ignored Natalie’s question and did everything she could to erase the tiny bit of progress they’d made only minutes earlier. Adele’d been in self-destruct mode for so long now, it’d become a habit she didn’t know how to break.

  “I knew there was a real reason you were here.” Adele pinned Natalie with a penetrating glare as she searched for the lie.

  Natalie’s pale gaze softened. “Yes, I came back because of Misty and what she said. And yes, I would like…no,” she shook her head a little, acknowledging her predicament, “I need your help. But I did come to apologize. It’s not the only reason I’m here, but that doesn’t make it any less real.”