The Mistletoe Murders

by A. C. Mason

  “I’m with you, Chief. Video’s too grainy to tell.” His tone of voice bordered on mockery.

  Caleb wanted to punch Marino in the mouth. Chill out. You’re not helping your cause. “Check out Blanchard’s signature on the policy. It doesn’t look like the signature on his real driver’s license.”

  Baker frowned at Caleb. “Do we know why Blanchard used the alias Martin Verbois?”

  “He wouldn’t say. His attorney bailed him out in record time.”

  The chief studied the signatures and shook his head. “A handwriting expert is the only one who can verify this. I’ll take that under advisement.

  “Back to James Branson’s case, I believe it’s for the best if you are removed from any dealings with his murder and to all the cases connected to Mistletoe Man.”

  Caleb shook his head in disbelief. “Am I being suspended?”

  “Not officially,” he said. “Because of the notoriety of the article, we need to avoid any questions as to the integrity of the case and/or cases. And since Branson’s article involved you, keeping you on to investigate his murder could look suspicious.”

  “What am I supposed to do? Sit around the office and twiddle my thumbs?”

  “I would suggest you take some leave time. You have plenty.”

  Caleb exhaled noisily. “All right, if that’s my only option. Who’s going to take charge of these cases?”

  “If there are more homicides or no killer found within the next ten days, at that time, I’ll request assistance from State Police. In the meantime, Marino will take the lead.”

  What just happened here? Had Marino really been following me? Caleb wouldn’t put it past the SOB. What confused him even more was why he’d suddenly fallen out of favor with the chief. Next thing he knew, Marino would be taking his place as head of Homicide.

  Caleb stormed down the hall to his office. The first item of business upon returning to his desk…make another copy of that video for himself. He’d never trusted Marino, but after the scene in Baker’s office, he didn’t have much faith in the chief either. He transferred the video to his phone.

  How ironic. He had been pretty damn close to being convinced of Blanchard’s guilt in the all the murders. Now he planned to do all he could to prove him innocent. First, he had to verify Blanchard’s location on the date that policy was written.

  Forty

  Did the longing for a decent cup of coffee lead him to The Coffee Mug? Or was it the hope of accidentally running in to Jamie? Despite her keeping crucial info from him, Caleb couldn’t stay angry with her. Her motives weren’t betrayal, he told himself, only a means to keep out more pain. He could easily understand that motive.

  He strode up to the counter and ordered an espresso. Waiting for his order to be filled, he surveyed the room.

  A brunette woman caught his attention with a wave. He smiled as he picked up his order and headed over to the table where his cousin Stacy sat with her mother Katherine and Caleb’s and Stacy’s grandmother, Louise Carville.

  “Looks who’s here, Mister Big Shot of OPPD,” Stacy said in a teasing voice. “We haven’t seen you at our Sunday dinners since you got that promotion.”

  Caleb ignored her not-so-subtle hint and pulled out a chair to sit with his relatives. He eyed the multitude of shopping bags surrounding the women. “I see you’ve all been Christmas shopping. Did y’all buy out the stores?”

  Stacy laughed. “We decided to take advantage of the sunshine to get the rest of the gifts taken care of. What have you been doing in your spare time?”

  He took a swallow of coffee and then set his cup on the table. “Spare time? What’s that?”

  She shrugged. “According to the paper, you apparently found time for romance.”

  Dammit! His jaw muscle tightened. “Don’t believe everything you read in the newspaper. I’ve been up to my ears in work.”

  “I would imagine so with all these murders,” Katherine commented, her expression clouding.

  “Aunt Kate, December’s been one hell of a month, and it’s only half over.”

  “Luckily for the decent people in town, we don’t have to worry. The victims were all prostitutes,” the oldest lady said with disdain. “Except that Chatelaine girl, but she spent all her time over there trying to help them.”

  Caleb mentally grimaced. “Grandma, no matter where or why drug dealers or prostitutes are being killed, we all need to stay on guard. You never know when those problems might spill over into your side of town. Besides, no one deserves to be murdered.”

  She snorted. “When I was a girl, we were warned by our parents not to cross those railroad tracks when we were outside playing. No decent God-fearing female would dare put one foot in Old Town. I don’t see how or why those Chatelaine girls would cheapen themselves to work over there. Their father and mother were well respected people. And that oldest girl…” She rolled her eyes.

  Caleb listened to his grandmother’s rant without commenting. He assumed her last remark referred to Jamie’s sister who had died of an overdose. An idea hit him. “You knew their father?”

  “Oh, yes. A very nice gentleman.” She fingered the blue paisley scarf around her neck. A glint of light flickered below the scarf on a silver chain and cross she wore, a piece of jewelry Caleb had never seen her without. “Doctor Chatelaine came from a long line of doctors.”

  “If the family was so prominent, why don’t I remember them?”

  “Dr. Chatelaine had a practice here in town and second office in another town in the parish.” She paused and looked thoughtful. “Oh yes, it was Merryville. The family actually lived there. All his children attended Catholic schools. Since you went to public school, I don’t imagine you ran in the same social circles as the Chatelaine children.”

  Stacy chuckled. “Grandma knows enough about Oak Pointe and parish history to write a book.”

  His interest piqued, he decided to ask. “Did you remember a family by the last name of Verbois?”

  Louise pursed her lips. “Oh yes, Martin Verbois worked for the railroad.” She leaned forward and continued in a low voice. “One of his worthless daughters was rumored to have been having an affair with Robert Blanchard.”

  Caleb wanted to shout, but retained a calm demeanor by hard effort. He nonchalantly took a sip of his coffee. “Is Mr. Verbois still alive?”

  “No, he passed away back in two thousand, I believe.”

  “You indicated he had more than one daughter. Are any of them still living here in Oak Pointe?”

  Louise thought a moment. “There’s only one that I know of. Her first name is Sarah. She married once, but I don’t recall her husband’s name. Seems like she writes trashy romance novels.”

  Stacy eyed him with curiosity. “Why are you interested in the Verbois family?”

  Caleb faked a smile and acted as if he were joking. “If I told you I’d have to shoot you.” He drained the last swallow of coffee and pushed his chair away from the table. “Ladies, it’s been great visiting with y’all.”

  “Try to come to dinner on Sundays sometime,” Stacy pleaded. “We miss you.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  He exchanged kisses and hugs with all three women. “See y’all later.”

  The meeting with his relatives must have been destiny, the reason he felt compelled to come here. He grinned all the way out to his truck.

  Could Blanchard be adopted? Verbois’ daughter Sarah just might have some useful information. To locate her would be the next hurdle.

  Caleb sat in his truck for a few minutes before starting the engine. What he really needed to do was to find the guilty party instead of proving Blanchard innocent. And he knew just how he might be able to accomplish the task. Recheck all the trace evidence from Tracy Dumont’s murder.

  Her killer had left a sloppy crime scene that time. This murder seemed to be a spur-of-the-moment killing. Caleb suspected the scumbag got tired of waiting for the opportunity to try again to get rid of Jamie. Mist
letoe Man didn’t like the fact she had no intention of closing Magdalen House.

  The scumbag kept warning Jamie she would be next, but he’d hit once, maybe twice, if James Branson was also his victim. Maybe the right moment hadn’t presented itself. Jamie remained in great danger. He had to do something to prevent Mistletoe Man from achieving his goal. And soon.

  Forty-one

  Bud greeted Caleb at the door wagging his tail. The dog jumped around with excitement and barked.

  Caleb leaned down and vigorously rubbed Bud’s ears and head. “Nice to know someone’s happy to see me.”

  He threw his jacket on the sofa and went immediately to the kitchen with Bud at his heels. There had been no time for lunch so Caleb was starving. He grabbed a package of ham and other sandwich fixings out of the fridge.

  After setting the items on the table, he eyed the bottles of Abita beer on the top shelf of the refrigerator. A nice cold brew would sure be great right about now. He shook his head. No, maybe later. Drinking a Coke was a better option. He shut the refrigerator door and proceeded to prepare his sandwich, which he ate in record time. His stomach thanked him. The only solid food he’s eaten since three this morning had been a donut.

  Bud barked and ran toward the back door.

  “I guess you need to go outside for a while.” Caleb followed him and opened the door. He watched for a few minutes in amusement as his canine buddy raced around the back yard. The dog’s antics made him smile, and eased his tension a little. But time to get back to business.

  Sitting on the sofa, he reached for his phone and keyed in Alisha’s number. “Can you get me a copy of the Tracy Dumont file?”

  “I will if you clue me in on what happened in Baker’s office,” she said. “Marino is telling everyone that you were suspended and you probably would be fired. Is it true?”

  “Not yet,” he snapped. “Unless Baker plans to fire me when I come back to work. He removed me from the serial killer cases and suggested I take leave time because of bad publicity over the article and that reporter’s murder. Not officially suspending me makes it impossible for me to file an appeal.”

  “You’re still working on the cases, apparently.” She sounded perturbed.

  “You think I’m going to sit around and twiddle my thumbs until Baker decides to call in State Police?”

  “No, I guess not. Do you believe he will ask LSP for assistance?”

  “I’m not sure if he will or not. What he said to you about asking for assistance from LSP makes me think he won’t until he’s forced to request help. Maybe it’s just me, but I’m beginning to suspect Baker has a touch of senility or else somebody is paying him to screw up.”

  “Although I can’t imagine why anyone would want him to look incompetent, unless this person wants his job. It’s not just your thinking about him. There’s nothing I can put my finger on, but something is off.”

  “I agree. Sometimes he seems rational and other times he acts stupid. I received a copy of a security video from a homicide detective at BRPD.” He told her the story behind the video and insurance policy, again leaving out Jamie’s part. “I showed the video to the chief while I was in the office. He couldn’t say whether or not the man in the video was Blanchard. He didn’t want to commit to saying that the signature didn’t match the one on Blanchard’s DL.”

  “I suppose Marino backed up the chief.”

  “What do you think?”

  “A few other detectives and officers I’ve talked to have the same opinion about Chief Baker. There’s something wrong, anyway. Maybe he’s afraid the mayor will consider him too old for the job if he doesn’t solve these murders himself.”

  “Sounds like a plausible scenario.” He finished off his Coke and set the can on the end table. “Make me the copy and meet me at Dirk’s about five-thirty. I’ll fill you in then on what else is going on.”

  He ended the call, then pulled up Google on his cell phone. A person can find just about anything on the internet. Why not Sarah Verbois? If she was a writer, she must have a website.

  Bingo! He hit paydirt. Sarah Verbois, historical romance author. She used her maiden name for her pseudonym, but she could be listed in the directory with her married name.

  If she were even listed. Not a whole lot of people still had land lines anymore. He kept his fingers crossed that Sarah Verbois kept an older land line phone for power outages like Jamie did.

  His cell phone rang. His cousin’s name and number appeared on the display. He hoped she wasn’t calling to try again to persuade him to come to Sunday dinner. He reluctantly answered. “Hey, lady. What’s up?”

  “Grandma insisted I call you. She remembered Sarah Verbois’ married name. It’s Goudeau.”

  “Thanks, Stace,” he said. “You just made my day.”

  “You can make ours by coming to dinner.”

  He shook his head in dismay. “I’ll come whenever I can get away. I can’t promise when, but soon.”

  “Okay,” she said with a sigh. “I tried.”

  “I said I promise to come soon.”

  After a few pleasantries, they ended the call.

  Caleb knew he needed to keep his word about attending the family’s Sunday dinners. With both his parents deceased, Aunt Kate, Grandma, Stacy, her husband and kids were his only family members. He had to admit he enjoyed the Sunday events.

  He dismissed all other thoughts and began searching the telephone directory for Sarah Goudeau. Strangely, the address he found listed for her was one number off from the false one Blanchard had listed on the vehicle registration for the Acura. Same street in Celtic Estates, Druid Place.

  He glanced at his watch…three in the afternoon. Still enough time to make a visit to Sarah Verbois before his meeting with Alisha. He realized that a meeting with her was simply to satisfy his curiosity about Blanchard’s use of Martin Verbois’ name. Getting a line on Mistletoe Man’s identity would be a better use of his time.

  Still, a gut feeling told him Sarah had valuable information.

  ~ * ~

  Chief Baker glared at Marino. “Are you happy now? Bourque is off the case and Blanchard is still our number one suspect.”

  “I would be a lot happier if you had officially suspended him,” Marino growled.

  “You know I can’t suspend him without giving a good reason. He would have LSP or FBI down on me in a hurry. Bourque wasn’t happy, but he understands the business about perception.”

  “Maybe I’m not as happy as I should be, but many other people will be indebted to me, including my father wherever he is in the afterlife. I can hardly wait for Blanchard and especially his old man to get what they deserve for all their sins.”

  Baker snorted. “Since when did you become so sanctimonious? Their sins? You sure as hell aren’t without sin.”

  Marino gave a Cheshire cat grin. “Never said I was. I just happen to know yours.”

  Baker leaned back in his chair and returned Marino’s grin with one of his own. “I also know your sin and yours is a lot more serious than mine.” He certainly enjoyed the startled look on Marino’s face.

  Forty-two

  Caleb rang the doorbell and waited for someone to come to the door at Sarah Verbois’s home. Impatient, he pressed the bell again. Chimes echoed through the house.

  A short brunette woman in her late thirties or early forties came to the door. At first glance her wire rimmed eyeglasses and her bun hairdo made her appear the stereotypical computer nerd or spinster. A closer look revealed a large pair of silver hoop earrings and a number of other ear piercings.

  The rest of her didn’t seem to match the nerd image either. She wore a pair of red and green flowered pants made of some sort of silky flowing material and a red V-neck blouse, revealing ample cleavage. A set of diamond rings on her left ring finger indicated she was married. Her feet were bare except for a sparkly toe ring on each foot.

  He introduced himself and showed the woman his badge and ID. “I’m looking for Sarah Verb
ois.”

  The woman eyed him with a mixture of curiosity and caution. “She’s in New Orleans researching her latest work-in-progress.”

  “When will she be back?”

  “I’m not certain. Sometimes she gets caught up in the research and loses track of time.” She held his gaze with her brown eyes for a moment. “I’m Christine LaGrange, Ms Verbois’ secretary. Is there anything I can help you with?”

  “Possibly,” Caleb said. “How long have you worked for Ms. Verbois?”

  She laughed. “All my life. I’m also her daughter. LaGrange is my married name. Can you tell me what this is concerning?”

  “I wanted some information concerning a Martin Verbois. Is he related?”

  She arched her brows. “My late grandfather certainly has received a great deal of attention lately. You’re the third gentleman to inquire about him since September.”

  His curiosity heightened. “May I ask why these other men were asking about him?”

  “Please, come inside so we can talk. The sun may be shining, but it’s still pretty chilly out here.”

  “Thank you.” He followed her into the house and into a large study where she invited him to be seated.

  “Would you care for coffee?” she asked, eying him coyly. “It’ll take the chill out of your bones.”

  He smiled. “A nice cup of hot coffee would be good right about now.” Whether she was really married or those rings were just for show, she was definitely flirting with him. She was a bit too kooky for his taste, but he enjoyed the interaction. Besides, it was good for his ego.

  “I’ll be back in a sec.” She left and disappeared into the hallway.

  In her absence, Caleb surveyed the rows of bookshelves lining the walls. A huge mahogany desk sat in front of one section of shelves. The computer, a printer, and a fax machine on the desk seemed out of place with the antique furnishings.