“Rita? Oh thank God. I was starting to worry. I’ve been calling and calling, but it kept going straight to voice mail.”
I was a little out of breath, but I think I managed to sound normal. “That’s because I’m taking some time off,” I said patiently. “If you have a problem at work while I’m away, you might get a quicker response if you call Ox.”
Estelle laughed nervously. “Yeah. I know.” She took a couple of raspy breaths and then said, “Look, Rita, I really hate to bother you, but I thought you needed to know about what happened this afternoon.”
I didn’t say anything for a moment. If there was trouble at Zydeco, she was right that I should know about it. Then again, I wanted the staff to understand that I trusted Ox and they didn’t need to run to me with every little thing. “I left Ox in charge while I’m away,” I said. “Is this something you can talk about with him?”
Estelle laughed, but she didn’t sound amused. “Um . . . no. He’s part of the problem.”
A warning bell sounded in the back of my mind. “What problem?”
“I don’t know the whole story, but Ox and Edie got into it this afternoon over some phone call. They’re not talking to each other, or to any of us. And Edie was so upset she went home early.”
“You’re joking, right? Tell me you’re making this up just to freak me out.”
“I’m sorry, Rita. I wish I was. Sparkle and I thought you should know.”
Sparkle, another one of my decorators (and all Goth despite the frilly name), doesn’t make a habit of getting involved in drama. If she was worried, maybe I should be, too. Before I could process what Estelle had said, the front door opened and Monroe stepped out onto the porch. He acknowledged me with a dip of his head and whistled as if he hadn’t a care in the world as he gingerly walked down the front steps.
This would have been a great chance to talk with him alone, but I couldn’t hang up on Estelle after what she’d just told me. “What time did Edie leave?”
“A few minutes after three.”
Roughly three hours ago, and she was just calling me now? “And who handled the front desk after she left?” It was difficult to follow the conversation. My attention was riveted on Monroe, who followed the walk around the side of the building and disappeared from view.
“Isabeau answered the phones until we closed at five,” Estelle said. “We didn’t have a lot of work, so it didn’t mess things up too badly. But she didn’t have Edie’s password, so she wasn’t able to get into the bakery’s e-mail account.”
I descended the stairs and moseyed after Monroe, hoping he wouldn’t notice that I was following him. “I have the password,” I said. “I’ll check the e-mail account tonight. Are you still at the bakery now?”
“No. We left right after we closed. Sparkle and I had a drink at the Duke, and that’s when we decided I should call you. We didn’t want to disturb you, but nobody knows if Edie’s coming back tomorrow. She was really upset.”
Edie had been acting strangely for the past couple of days, and now she’d walked off the job? I couldn’t just let that slide. I had to find out what was going on with her, especially if it was spilling over into the workplace. “I’m sure she’ll be back,” I told Estelle. “I’ll talk with both of them tomorrow and make sure we get everything smoothed out.”
She let out a sigh of relief. “I sure hope you can get those two to talk to you. I did my best to get some information from Ox, but he blew me off. I’m sure Isabeau knows what happened, but she’s not saying a word.”
I’d reached the corner of the building. Trying to look like someone out for a casual stroll, I checked to see if Monroe was still in sight. He’d stopped in front of a two-car detached garage where he was now fiddling with a heavy padlock. “I’ll take care of it,” I promised again. “Try not to worry.” I managed to end the conversation a few minutes later, and stood in the shadows, enjoying the cool evening breeze while I tried to shift my mental gears and decide on the best way to strike up a conversation with Monroe.
Turned out, I didn’t have to worry. Monroe unlocked the padlock and worked it out of the clasp that held the garage doors shut. Setting the lock aside, he swung open one of the wooden doors and propped it open with a piece of cinder block. As he dragged open the second door, he spotted me and straightened up sharply. “Hey there. What are you doing out here?”
“Phone call,” I said, wagging my cell phone in front of me.
He put a second cinder block in place and wiped his hands on the back of his pants. “Don’t tell me you’re sneaking around on your husband already?”
“It’s not like that, cross my heart.” I sketched an X across my chest. “You’re working on the van?”
“I’m fixin’ to take a look. Don’t know what I’ll find, though.” He ran a skeptical look over a maroon van that had seen better days. “Looks pretty sorry, don’t it?”
I agreed that it did and slipped my phone in my pocket as I stepped toward the garage. “I’m surprised Hyacinth agreed to let you work on it,” I said. “I mean, you are a guest here. She was upset by the thought of me gathering a few glasses.”
He laughed and reached inside the van to start the engine. It didn’t click or grind. In fact, it started smoothly and purred like a contented old cat. Surprise, surprise.
After he listened for a moment, Monroe shut it off again. “I guess technically I am a guest,” he said as he unlatched the hood, “but it feels more like family. Me and the Hoyt sisters go way back.”
I knew it! I just didn’t know if that was good or bad news for Old Dog Leg. “So you’re in town to visit old friends?”
Monroe glanced around the garage, spotted a toolbox, and carried it toward the van. “In a manner of speaking. I lived in New Orleans when I was younger, but I’ve been away a long time. Came back to see friends and to find my brother.”
He certainly seemed sincere. I hitched myself onto a packing box that looked sturdy enough to hold me and settled in to watch him work. “How long have you been away?”
“Longer than you’ve been alive, I expect.”
“And how long since you saw your brother?”
Monroe spent some time wiggling wires and checking hoses. Had he found something wrong with the van or was he just ignoring my question? Eventually he pulled a rag from his pocket and slowly wiped grease from his fingers. “It’s been forty years since I saw anyone from these parts.”
I did my best to look surprised. “Why so long?”
He looked at me from the corner of his eye. “Long story.”
“I have time,” I said. “If you want to talk about it, that is.” I tried to sound friendly and compassionate, but his expression grew guarded and withdrawn.
“Not really. But thanks.”
Wrong answer. I tried again. “Have you seen your brother yet?”
Monroe ducked back under the hood. “Not yet. Sent him a letter the other day. I’m just waitin’ to hear back.” He wiggled another wire or two and then looked over at me. “I’ll bet that husband of yours is wondering where you got off to. Mebbe it would be best if you was to go back inside.”
He wasn’t going to get rid of me that easily. I smiled, still trying to give off a friendly vibe. “I’m sure he’s not worried.”
Monroe put both hands on the van and gave me a steady look. “Mebbe not, but I’ve been down that road before. I don’t want trouble. Not that kind. Or any other, for that matter. I just got my life back. I ain’t losing it again.”
I wondered what he meant by that, but he made it hard to argue or stretch out the conversation. Was he genuinely worried, or just trying to dodge my questions? I didn’t want to leave until I knew for sure, but I didn’t want to push and make him completely shut down either.
Reluctantly deciding it might be best to back off for now, I hopped from the box and started toward the open garage doors, then stopped and looked back, intending to apologize for interrupting him. But the words froze in my throat.
Twelve
Monroe really was Old Dog Leg’s brother!
I rushed back up to the room, eager to tell Gabriel about my discovery. He wasn’t in the Honeymooner suite, so I scoured the inn for him and finally found him in the garden, talking about fishing with Dontae and Cleveland. He was regaling them with a story about catching a small shark while fishing in the Gulf of Mexico—a story that might even have been true. Then again, knowing Gabriel, it could have been a complete fabrication.
“Give you much of a fight?” Cleveland asked, sounding almost breathless with anticipation.
“Just about tore my arm off,” Gabriel said. “But it was worth the effort. That thing tasted damn good hot off the grill.”
Dontae barked an appreciative laugh and then spotted me. “Uh-oh. Looks like the missus tracked you down.” He lumbered to his feet, groaning loudly from the effort. “You tell a mighty good fish story, boy. Mighty good.”
Cleveland ran a suspicious gaze over me. “It’s bad juju to leave your man alone on your honeymoon.” He turned his back on me and spoke to Gabriel in a stage whisper that carried across the space between us. “You want your marriage to work out, set the tone now. You’re the man of the house. She ain’t.” When Gabriel only smiled, Cleveland glanced back at me and added, “I ain’t jokin’. You mark my words.”
Gabriel put a hand on the old man’s shoulder. “Thanks, Cleveland. I appreciate the advice, but I’ve got this.” He winked at me and formed a fist. “Iron fist rules.”
“Oh please,” I said. “Just try that iron-fist crap with me, Broussard. I guarantee you’ll be sorry. Are you ready for dinner? I’m starving.”
Gabriel left his new best friends and put his arm around my shoulder. “See, fellas? I’ve got her right where she wants me.”
As we drove a few blocks to a nearby restaurant Pastor Rod had recommended, Gabriel told me about his conversation with Cleveland and Dontae, and a few interesting tidbits he’d picked up about the Hoyt sisters. Primrose had never been married. Hyacinth’s husband had died a few years ago.
I forced myself to listen while he talked, but then filled him in on my conversation with Monroe—particularly the exciting news that I’d seen the birthmark.
Gabriel’s nonplussed expression pleased me. “I’ll be damned,” he said.
We pulled up to the restaurant, an Italian place in a run-down strip mall a few blocks from the inn. Without Pastor Rod’s recommendation, I would have driven right past the place, but what it lacked in ambiance, it made up for in heavenly aromas.
As soon as we placed our orders, we went back to dissecting everything and speculating about the possibilities for Old Dog Leg and his brother. That is, I dissected and speculated. Once the food arrived, Gabriel mostly chewed and emitted an occasional “Mmm-hmm” to maintain the illusion that he was actually listening to me.
I couldn’t really blame him. The food was excellent. We shared an order of calamari lightly breaded and cooked tender, not chewy, then dove into bowls of rich, creamy oyster and artichoke soup before moving on to our entrées.
After I’d dissected and speculated through the appetizer and soup, we wound back to the Hoyt sisters.
“I got the impression that Hyacinth and her husband had separated,” he said as our server placed our entrées in front of us. “But I don’t think they ever divorced.”
I’d ordered cappelini ala Bordelaise, pasta tossed with toasted garlic and parsley. Gabriel had a slow-roasted osso buco with rich jus gravy that smelled so good it made my mouth water.
I inhaled the garlicky aroma wafting up from my plate and sighed happily. “They’re from a generation that didn’t really believe in divorce. I admire that, really.”
Gabriel looked up, surprised. “Weren’t you and Philippe in the middle of a divorce when he died?”
“We were, but marriage is hard. More work than anyone lets on. Somebody ought to warn people what’s in store for them before they say I do.”
Gabriel grinned slowly. “If they had, would you have listened?”
I shrugged and filled my mouth with pasta and garlic. “Probably not. But that’s beside the point. We’re not talking about me anyway. So Hyacinth’s a widow on a technicality. That actually gives us something in common. Maybe I can use it to get more information out of her.”
“Like what?” Gabriel asked. “We found out what we need to know. Our work is done.”
I’d been floating in a little bubble of excitement since seeing that scar, but now my bubble popped suddenly. Gabriel was right, but curiosity about those old men and women was eating me alive. I wanted to know what their story was and how Monroe fit into their world. For Dog Leg’s sake, of course.
“Is our work done?” I asked. “Don’t you think we should find out everything we can for Old Dog Leg while we’re here?”
Gabriel shook his head. “No, I don’t. He asked us to find out whether Monroe is who he claims to be. And based on what you say you just saw, it appears he is. That’s it. The rest is none of our business.”
Technically, maybe, but that didn’t stop me from wondering about a few things. Like the expressions on peoples’ faces when Monroe walked into the parlor earlier. “Hyacinth didn’t look all that happy to see Monroe,” I reminded him.
“Not our concern.”
“And what about Dontae? Did you see the way he acted when he thought Monroe was going to sit on the couch beside him?”
Gabriel arched an eyebrow. “Even if there are bad feelings between Monroe and Dontae, it’s not something we need to worry about.”
“What about Primrose and Cleveland? I thought they were going to take each other apart. There are bad feelings between those two, and they have something to do with Monroe.”
“Maybe. But Dog Leg didn’t ask us to pry into Monroe’s life. He merely asked us to figure out if the man was really his brother. Now that we’ve done that, the rest is up to Dog Leg.”
I put down my fork, my appetite suddenly gone. “So you’re just going to let Old Dog Leg walk into that viper’s nest . . . blind?”
Gabriel reached for his wineglass. “Let’s review one more time, shall we?”
“Don’t you dare patronize me,” I warned. “Monroe knows Primrose and Hyacinth from before, and judging from their conversations during the cocktail party, he knew the rest of them, too. If there’s an issue smoldering among them, we should find out what it is so Old Dog Leg isn’t caught off guard.”
“Dog Leg’s a grown man, Rita. He doesn’t need you to take care of him.”
“Some friend you are.”
Gabriel laughed and turned his attention back to his meal. “I’m not the kind of friend who pries into things that are none of my business, if that’s what you mean. If Dog Leg wanted us looking into his brother’s affairs, he’d have asked us to do so. But he didn’t.”
“Dog Leg doesn’t know about his brother,” I reminded him. “That’s the whole point.”
But Gabriel wouldn’t budge, and eventually he stopped responding altogether to my comments about the interesting old characters at the Love Nest.
I don’t mind admitting that his attitude rankled. By the time we returned to the inn, I was thoroughly irritated with him. It was nearly ten when we climbed the stairs to our room in silence, and I escaped into the bathroom to change. I slipped into a pair of comfortable pajama pants and a tank top—not ugly, but also not sexy or suggestive—and emerged from the bathroom to find Gabriel bare chested, a pair of jogging shorts slung low on his hips. Judging from the zing I felt when I saw him, maybe it was just as well that I was annoyed with him.
I managed not to look at him—much—and made myself comfortable on one side of that imposing heart-shaped bed, all without saying more than a word or two. But when he
lay down on the other side of the bed with his back to me, I broke the silence.
“I thought you were going to sleep on the floor.”
He slid a glance over one finely toned shoulder. “If you feel that strongly about not sharing the bed, go ahead. Make yourself comfortable down there. But I paid good money for this room, and I’m sleeping on the bed.”
I thought about moving off the bed, but my principles will only stretch so far. I plumped my pillow and tugged the sheet out from under his butt. “Now you’re just being selfish.”
“Yep.” He leaned up and looked me over so slowly I could feel my blood warming. “I could show you how unselfish I can be if you’re interested.”
“Fat chance, Romeo.” I rolled onto my side again, and he chuckled as he turned out the light. A whole slew of unspoken words swirled between us, and all of mine were tinged with disappointment and irritation. We’d be checking out in the morning. Gabriel saw no reason to stay longer, and I couldn’t stay without him, so that was that.
I must have dozed off quickly, because the next thing I knew, a bloodcurdling scream tore me out of a deep sleep. I bolted upright, startled, frightened, and struggling to get my bearings. I was vaguely aware of Gabriel scrambling off the bed and pulling on a pair of pants as he hurried toward the balcony doors.
Oh, yeah. The Love Nest.
“What was that?” I tried to follow him, but my feet were tangled in a sheet.
“I don’t know.” Gabriel glanced back at me and barked, “Stay there.”
Yeah. Sure. Another scream shattered the night, and I finally managed a coherent thought. “Don’t open the door,” I warned. “You don’t know what’s out there.”
“It’ll be fine,” he said as he tried to shoulder open the swollen wooden doors. “Just stay there.”
“Are you nuts?” At last I managed to kick my feet free of the bedding and half fell off the bed. I glanced at the glowing numbers on the clock and saw that it was just past midnight. “There could be gang members out there. With guns.”
Arsenic and Old Cake Page 9
