“Now, Ms. LaRue, don’t you worry about a thing.” Linda Smith reached over and patted Davy on the head. “Me and Davy are old buddies, and he’ll do just fine.”
Feeling somewhat more at ease, Charlotte left her name, address, and both of her phone numbers, along with instructions that if anything at all happened or if Davy seemed the least bit unhappy, Linda should feel free to immediately call her.
It was close to lunchtime, and Charlotte was in the middle of cleaning the bathroom that Marian’s sons used when her cell phone buzzed. She quickly rinsed and dried her hands, then pulled the phone from her pocket. “Maid-for-a-Day. Charlotte speaking.”
“Aunt Charley, it’s Judith. I’m afraid I have some bad news.”
Charlotte closed the toilet lid and sank down on top of it.
Judith’s sigh was audible over the phone line and full of frustration. “Bail for Daniel has been denied.”
“What?” Charlotte cried. “How can that be possible?”
“Seems that the assistant D.A. convinced the judge that Daniel was a flight risk. He made a pitch about Daniel and Nadia conspiring to get rid of Ricco. And with Nadia missing, he claimed that if Daniel was freed on bail, he would more than likely disappear, too. And that idiotic man who calls himself a judge bought it.”
“That just can’t be right, Judith. There can’t be any evidence, and besides which, Daniel is a respected attorney from a highly respected law firm. He’s—”
“I know, I know, Auntie. If you ask me, there’s something really rotten going on here. Of course, it doesn’t help that the judge is Jonas Tipton, the assistant D.A.’s big golfing buddy.”
Charlotte frowned. “I’ve heard that name before.” But where had she heard it? Then, she remembered: something that Bitsy Duhe had told her. “Isn’t that the judge who’s as old as creation?”
“ ’Fraid so. Some even say he’s a bit senile. And I have to tell you, after watching him in court this morning, I think that old buzzard is more than just senile. I think he’s either just plain nuts or else he’s on the take.”
“Well ain’t that just grand?” Charlotte grumbled. “Surely something can be done.”
“Daniel’s firm is working on it, but this kind of stuff takes time.”
Time? How much time? And what about Davy? “Have you told your mother about this yet?”
“Not yet, and I’m not looking forward to it. Ah ... Aunt Charley, you wouldn’t consider—”
“No way,” Charlotte retorted immediately. “Don’t even ask. Your mother and I are barely speaking as it is.”
“Sorry. I thought it was worth a shot.”
By the time Charlotte finished cleaning Marian’s house and was on her way to pick up Davy at the day-care, she’d resigned herself to the fact that the whole fiasco about Ricco could very well turn into a long-term legal battle, a battle for Daniel and Nadia’s very lives.
Even when they won the battle, and she had to think they would win or else go crazy, there would be grave damage. Daniel’s professional reputation, as well as Nadia’s, would suffer. And what of their marriage? Even the best of relationships sometimes fell apart when faced with far fewer obstacles than they were facing.
And then there was the damage to Davy to consider. All within a day’s time, his mother had disappeared, his new stepfather had been arrested, and both were suspects in the murder of his father. To top it off, he was staying with someone he barely knew. There was no telling what kind of long-term effect that could have on the little boy.
And if Nadia and Daniel don’t win the battle? “Oh, dear Lord,” Charlotte murmured, cringing at the thought as she pulled into the driveway of the Loving Care Day-Care Center. What if, God forbid, Nadia and Daniel were railroaded through and actually convicted of murdering Ricco? Then what would happen to Davy?
For a long time, Charlotte simply sat in the van and stared into space, her stomach twisted in knots.
One day at a time. The words came out of nowhere, and Charlotte sighed. Getting caught up in the worry game was all too easy, but the truth was, worrying about “what ifs” wouldn’t do anyone any good, least of all Davy. Besides, ultimately, the act of worrying wouldn’t change the outcome of the situation anyway.
For now, all she could do was take care of Davy as best she could and pray. Right now, the little boy needed all the love and stability he could get. And from the looks of things, the only place he was going to get it was from her.
She could handle it, she kept telling herself as she climbed out of the van. With the good Lord’s help she could handle anything. She’d done it before and she could do it again.
As Charlotte entered the day-care, she ignored the little voice that kept reminding her just how long ago it had been since she’d juggled caring for a child and taking care of a business. Then, she hadn’t been able to afford such things as day-care though. Thank goodness that wasn’t the problem now. Day-care would help a lot, especially since Davy seemed to like it.
As for taking care of a business, one thing she needed to do right away was to see if Janet Davis could possibly take over working for Patsy Dufour in Nadia’s place. Now, if only she could remember to call Janet.
Charlotte spotted Davy almost immediately in the play area. He and another little boy were having a tug-of-war over a truck. Both little boys seemed equally determined to take possession of it. She was so busy watching the two that she didn’t notice Linda Smith standing off to the side.
Evidently Ms. Smith had been monitoring the boys all along, and when things got a bit too rough, she swooped in like a hawk and took away the truck from both of them.
The look on both little boys’ faces was priceless, and Charlotte couldn’t help laughing. But even as she laughed, she felt a deep anger taking root within, mostly anger at Madeline for her selfish attitude about Daniel and his new family. But she was also angry with Nadia.
Where was Nadia? Why had she run? And how in the world could she have left her little boy, her own flesh and blood, to be cared for by people he barely knew?
Because she’s guilty ... guilty ... guilty.
Chapter Ten
The moment that Charlotte turned into her driveway, she spied Louis sitting on the porch swing. She hadn’t seen or talked to him since he’d borrowed coffee from her on Saturday morning. Did he even know about Daniel’s arrest yet? Did he know that Daniel had been denied bail?
Though Louis gave Davy a cursory, curious look when they approached the porch, the first words out of his mouth confirmed that he did indeed know about Daniel.
“Why didn’t you tell me that Daniel had been arrested?”
Charlotte felt her temper rise and could have gladly smacked him for being so insensitive in Davy’s presence, but she settled for giving him a pointed, hostile glare instead. Then Davy tugged on her hand.
“What’s ‘arrested,’ Aunt Chardy?”
“Thanks a lot, Louis,” Charlotte retorted. Ignoring Louis for the moment, she knelt down beside Davy. “‘Arrested’ just means that Daniel had to go with the police to explain some things. It’s nothing important, hon. Nothing you need to worry about.”
“Daddy Danol be home soon?”
“Soon, baby. Real soon.” Please let it be true, Lord.
Davy seemed to mull over what she’d told him, then his eyes widened. “My see Weety now? Pease,” he added, his expression hopeful.
“May I see Sweety now,” Charlotte corrected. “And, yes, since you asked so politely, you may go see him. But remember what I told you. You can look, but don’t touch. And you can talk to him, but don’t stick your fingers in the cage. Okay?”
Davy nodded eagerly. “ ’Cause Weety bite me.”
“Yes, that’s right. He might bite you,” she repeated, and, still ignoring Louis, she unlocked the door and let the little boy inside. Only when she was assured that Davy was occupied with watching Sweety Boy did she finally turn her attention back to Louis.
She’d fully intended givin
g him a piece of her mind for being so thoughtless around Davy, but Louis beat her to the punch.
With hands held up defensively, palms out, he said, “I know, I know. Sorry about that. Guess I just wasn’t thinking.”
Charlotte decided not to make an issue of his blunder. “Will Richeaux arrested Daniel Saturday afternoon,” she said curtly. “I didn’t tell you because”—she motioned toward the living room where Davy was chattering away to Sweety Boy—“I’ve had my hands full. So—” She narrowed her eyes. “How did you find out?”
“I read about it in the Picayune this morning.”
Charlotte groaned. “Oh no. I didn’t get around to reading the paper this morning. Shoot! I was hoping that it wouldn’t get in the paper quite so soon.”
“So what’s happened since Saturday? And why is Davy with you?”
Even with the late afternoon sun peeking beneath the overhang of the porch, the temperature was mild. Since Charlotte thought it best if Davy didn’t overhear their conversation, she motioned toward the swing.
After making sure that the door was cracked open enough that she could hear Davy, she seated herself beside Louis in the swing. Then she explained the events of Saturday, ending with Judith’s call that morning.
“As for Davy, there’s no one else to keep him,” she said. “It was either I take him or he would be turned over to the welfare system.”
Louis shook his head. “What a mess! Somebody needs to do something about that old geezer Jonas Tipton.”
“Tell me about it,” Charlotte retorted. “Personally, I’d like to hang him up by his toenails.”
At that, a grin tugged at Louis’s lips. Then he sobered. “And there’s been no sign or word from Nadia?”
Charlotte shook her head. “Nary a peep out of her. I’ll be honest with you. I’ve known her now for several years—since Davy was born—and I can’t imagine what she was thinking, leaving him like that. It’s just not like her.”
“Yeah, well, that’s all fine and dandy, but what’s got me puzzled is Will Richeaux. You can bet if he’s pushing things—and it sounds like he is—then there’s a reason behind it.”
“Well, I’ll tell you one thing right now. There’s no way that Nadia could have murdered Ricco Martinez. Why, she wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“Wouldn’t hurt a fly, huh? But she’d abandon her child and her husband when they needed her the most. Just walk out on them without a word. Haven’t you learned by now that people aren’t always what they seem?”
Charlotte recognized Louis’s sarcastic comeback for what it was, a not so subtle dig meant to remind her that once before she’d thought that someone she cared about was innocent. But she’d been wrong. Almost dead wrong.
Was it possible that she was wrong again?
“Think about it, Charlotte,” he told her. “It could be the Dubuisson scenario all over again—just with a slightly different twist.”
Charlotte cringed, thinking about the Dubuisson family, and how, in spite of Hank warning her against getting personally involved with clients, she’d ended up smack in the middle of things when Jackson Dubuisson had been murdered. Though it pained her to admit it, she knew that there was a possibility that Louis could be right.
“But if it makes you feel any better,” Louis continued, “if Nadia did kill Ricco—and, to set the record straight, I’m still not convinced she did—I don’t think Daniel had anything to do with it.”
“Of course Daniel isn’t involved in such a thing!” she snapped. The very idea was preposterous. Then she tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “Why aren’t you convinced? About Nadia, that is?”
Louis shrugged. “Given the circumstances of Ricco’s remains being found in that urn, and considering that he was involved with the cemetery thefts to begin with, it makes a lot more sense that his death is related to all of that stuff. Then again, maybe it’s meant to look like that to cover up the identity of the real murderer.”
Louis shoved himself out of the swing. “Tell you what, though. I still have a few connections, so maybe I’ll nose around and see what I can find out.”
“Oh, Louis—” Before Charlotte thought about what she was doing, she reached out and squeezed his arm. “I wish you would. I know I’d feel a whole lot better knowing you were involved. And, if—as you pointed out—Will Richeaux is pushing it, then that means he won’t be actively looking for the real murderer.”
Louis covered her hand with his free hand. “I think the big question right now is, why is he pushing it?”
As soon as Louis left, Charlotte went inside. But even as she gently coached Davy in the proper way to pet a parakeet, she kept mentally rehashing the conversation she’d had with Louis as well as berating herself for her impetuous impulse in squeezing his arm.
“That’s right, honey,” she told Davy. “Be very gentle with him.”
While she encouraged Davy, her thoughts continued to stay on Louis. She was both glad and relieved that he had decided to check things out for himself. Most times, he aggravated the stuffing out of her, but despite their differences, she was confident that if anyone could find out what was going on, Louis could. And with Judith nosing around, too, surely Nadia and Daniel would be exonerated soon.
“Careful, Davy,” she cautioned when the little boy got a bit too eager with the petting. “Remember he’s a lot smaller than you are and can be hurt a lot easier.”
“Like this, Aunt Chardy?”
Charlotte nodded, but, again, Louis came to mind. Maybe she should just pretend that nothing happened. After all, by today’s standards, her impulsive gesture meant nothing. Women and men touched each other casually all of the time and didn’t mean anything by it. Just stop being such an old prude, Charlotte LaRue.
Sweety Boy was slowly but surely getting used to Davy being around. Though he was still a bit leery of the little boy, he didn’t act nearly as defensive as when he was around Madeline and Louis. And he never tried to bite Davy. Even so, Charlotte wasn’t quite ready to trust him and Davy alone together yet.
“Time to close the cage door now,” she told Davy. “And time for a new adventure,” she added when she saw him poke out his lower lip in a pout. “I believe it’s time for Sesame Street,” she told him as she hurried over to the television, turned it on, and switched the channel to the PBS station.
The little boy’s eyes lit up and, childlike, he instantly forgot Sweety Boy. “Elmo! Elmo! Elmo!” Davy cried, scrambling over to the television.
Charlotte laughed. “I take it you like Elmo.”
The little boy plopped down on the rug within a foot of the TV screen, much too close in Charlotte’s opinion.
“Tell you what,” Charlotte said as she picked him up and positioned him a few feet farther back. “I need to make a phone call, so you sit right here and watch Elmo. After I make my call then I’ll fix us something for supper. Deal?”
Already engrossed with the antics of Big Bird dancing across the screen, Davy totally ignored her.
With a grin pulling at her lips, Charlotte walked to the desk and placed a call to Janet Davis.
Janet answered the call almost immediately.
“Hi, Janet. This is Charlotte. I was wondering if you could help me out for the next couple of weeks on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”
There was a slight hesitation on the line, a hesitation that, in Charlotte’s experience, probably meant that Janet’s answer would be no.
“Ah—Charlotte, I’m glad you called,” Janet finally said, her tone regretful. “I meant to call you, but things have been so hectic around here I haven’t had a chance. You know I would gladly help out if I could, but I won’t be able to work for at least the next two or three weeks. There’s been an accident. Harry misstepped coming down the stairs, and he’s messed up his ankle—broke it in two places.”
“Oh my goodness, that’s terrible.”
“Considering that my husband is a horrible patient, yes, it is terrible,” Janet agreed. “Anyway, that
happened on Friday, and he had to have surgery that night. Last night, the doctor said he could come home from the hospital today. But it’s going to be a while before Harry can put any weight on that foot, and I have to take him in each day for some physical therapy.”
Charlotte frowned. “Please give Harry my best, and don’t worry about work. I’ll manage.”
“Thanks, Charlotte. How about I give you a call when Harry is well enough to navigate on his own.”
“Good enough,” Charlotte answered. “Be talking to you. Bye now.”
Charlotte slowly hung up the receiver. The only thing left to do was either figure out how she could pull a double workload on Tuesdays and Thursdays or simply tell Patsy she couldn’t provide maid service for her for a while.
Charlotte shook her head and thumbed through the Rolodex until she found Patsy Dufour’s phone number. Patsy’s answering machine clicked on after the fourth ring, and Charlotte ground her teeth in frustration.
Once the beep sounded, Charlotte left her message. “Patsy, this is Charlotte LaRue. I’m having a scheduling problem, but I wanted you to know that I’ll try to be by a little after lunch tomorrow to clean. If this isn’t acceptable, give me a call at home tonight or call my cell phone number tomorrow.” Charlotte rattled off the two phone numbers, then she hung up the receiver and headed for the kitchen.
Now all she had to do was to figure out what she was going to fix for supper, something that she hoped a little three-year-old boy would eat.
Usually Charlotte like to read a bit in bed at night before going to sleep. With Davy sleeping in her bed, she’d had to settle for reading in the living room instead.
Charlotte had just decided that she would read one more chapter before calling it a night when the phone rang. The noise both startled her and frightened her. It was already past nine, and in her experience, any calls that time of night were never good news.
Polished Off (Charlotte LaRue Mystery Series, Book 3) Page 10
