by Joanna Wayne
“I’d hold off on structural repairs in case we need to investigate further. You could go ahead and have the plumbing checked out and also the roof. You seem to have a leak somewhere. The walls are wet from the inside out.”
“I will.” As soon as she could afford it. That might not be anytime soon.
“Has anything like this ever happened before?” she asked.
“Women decapitated?”
“No, bodies or body parts found inside houses in this area?”
“Not recently. Until I get a complete autopsy report, we don’t even know if the victim was alive or dead when the decapitation took place. It could be a sick prank, teenagers stealing bodies from the cemetery and conducting their own science experiments.”
“The neighbors haven’t mentioned any teenagers living in this house.”
“No, but they could have had access to it during the time it was empty.”
The detective turned off his recorder and returned it to his pocket as he stretched to a standing position. “You can relax,” the detective said, offering his first attempt at empathy. “I don’t think you’re in any danger, Ms. Villaré. But use caution. Don’t open your door to strangers or get involved with people you know nothing about. I would advise that even if we hadn’t found the partial remains of Jane Doe. You can’t be too careful these days.”
She preached that same thing herself and yet she’d opened her door to Nick last night. Thankfully, he’d just been a helpful neighbor, one she’d likely never see again.
A man would have to be crazy to get involved with this mess. She walked out to the porch with the detective as he was leaving. No sign of Nick’s truck. He was probably staying as far away from her as possible.
Who could blame him?
JACINTH LUGGED THE LAST TWO bags from the car to the kitchen. Considering that Caitlyn and Marcus were in Florida and Jacinth spent most of her waking hours at the university, it was ridiculous how many groceries she’d bought.
She tackled putting away the refrigerator items first, pretty sure just handling the carton of chocolate-fudge ice cream added a few inches to her hips. Had she not been in the frozen-treat aisle when the plumber had returned her call, she could have resisted the fattening splurge.
It would be Monday afternoon before he could get to the busted water pipe so that she could have running water again. That meant she’d have to drive over to the university to wash her hair and shower in the gym facilities.
The yogurt and skim milk were staples, as were her fruit, granola, cheese, salad makings and an assortment of canned and boxed soups. And she’d stocked up on Prissy Whiskers, the only cat food Sin deemed flavor-some enough for her majesty’s taste buds.
The beer was another story. She didn’t drink it. She knew nothing about it. Nonetheless, she’d picked up two six-packs, one imported, one domestic. It took some creative rearranging in her fridge to make room for them.
Not that there was any reason to expect her hunky neighbor would drop by for a visit, although his truck was in the driveway now.
Not that she cared. She wasn’t the least bit infatuated by him.
Kicking out of her shoes at the foot of the stairs, she went upstairs to work on her list for the detective and see why Sin was making such a racket. The pitiful meowing grew louder as Jacinth reached the top step.
“Sin, what are you into now?”
There was no sign of the cat, but the mewing turned to an earsplitting howl now that Sin had an audience. Jacinth searched for her without luck until she realized that the wail was coming from behind the closed door of Marie’s old bedroom.
Jacinth opened the door and Sin instantly grew quiet. The feline sat perfectly still, nailing Jacinth with her menacing yellow-eyed stare as if she were the culprit. Jacinth stooped to pick her up.
“You did this to yourself, Sin, though I can’t imagine how you got the door shut tight. And you’ve made a mess of this room.”
The books and framed pictures that lined the shelves were askance. One book was on the floor. So was a shattered vase that Jacinth would have sworn was too heavy for the cat to budge.
She sniffed as an unfamiliar scent assaulted her nostrils. “Did you spill something, Sin? Naughty cat.”
Jacinth searched but couldn’t find the source of the odor. Yet it persisted. A bit nauseating. Similar to the cheap aftershave one of her students apparently used in lieu of deodorant.
The smell had not been in this room before. Her chest constricted, making it difficult to breathe. Had someone been in the room while she was out?
Taking a deep breath, she carried Sin out of the room and shut the door behind her. Her nerves were shot. She was overreacting. There had been half a dozen CSU professionals in her house this morning. Their scents probably mingled and lingered and only seemed stronger in Marie’s room because it had been shut up.
Her doorbell rang and Jacinth jumped as if she’d been poked with a sharp fork. She wasn’t expecting company. Sin hissed and wiggled from her grasp, jumping from her arms to the floor.
Jacinth hurried down the stairs and peeked through the peephole. It was Nick. She threw open the door and stared for a few seconds, taking him in, right down to the metal toolbox he held in his right hand.
His jeans were worn, frayed at the hem, ripped across his left thigh. His T-shirt was faded, the fit tight across his broad, muscular chest, the short sleeves rolled up.
Totally lacking in sophistication.
Sex appeal out the wazoo.
“Heard you need a plumber,” he said. His smile lit up his face. “Unless you’ve already been serviced.”
Her senses vibrated. “I haven’t been serviced, but can I afford you?”
“I’m sure we can work something out.”
“In that case, when can you start?”
Chapter Four
A little more than an hour and a half later, Nick rang the doorbell again. This time his shirt was smeared with mud and he was wiping his face on a red work rag.
“Pipe’s replaced,” he said. “Turn a faucet on and let it run for a few minutes to get any residue out of the system.”
“Where did you get the new pipe?”
“The hardware store. Traffic’s light today, so it was a quick trip.”
She pushed the door open. “Thanks. I’ll write you a check to cover the cost.”
“We’ll settle up later.”
“Come on in, while I give the plumbing a try.”
“I’d track mud with every step. I’ll wait here.”
“Then at least let me bring you a beer.”
He grinned. “Now you’re talking.”
Feeling a tad smug that her purchase had not been a waste, she hurried to the kitchen, turned the water on full blast and let it pour into the sink. By the time she’d opened the beer, the flow was running clear. She owed Nick big-time.
The beer would have to suffice for now. Halfway back to the front of the house, she decided this called for a celebration. Returning to the kitchen, she opened a beer for herself and headed back to the porch.
Nick took his long-necked bottle and propped himself against the banister. Jacinth settled on the top step.
“I’m impressed with your skills,” she said.
“You should be. I learned from my grandpa, the best darn plumber in Grosse Tete, Louisiana.”
“That’s a town?”
“Yep. We’ve even got a truck stop. Be really nice and I might take you there for dinner one night.”
Jacinth tapped her chest with her hand. “Be still, my heart.” She took another sip of her beer. Not as good as a glass of chardonnay, but not bad. “Actually, I should treat you to dinner tonight. How about burgers at Snug Harbor?”
“Sounds great, but you’re not getting off that light. I have a better idea how you can repay me for my labor.”
Tension swelled. Surely he wasn’t suggesting sexual favors.
“Help me unpack my kitchen items and I’ll grill you a
steak.”
A blush heated her cheeks and she hoped he hadn’t read her thoughts. “I’d be glad to help. I’ll need a shower first and I have to finish a list I’m preparing for Detective Greene.”
“Ron Greene, in Homicide?”
“Yes. I guess you know him, too.”
Nick nodded. “Yeah. He can be obnoxious when it suits him, but he’s one of the best at getting his man—or woman. What are you listing?”
Jacinth told him and started to recount her discussion with the detective.
“Looks like you have more company,” Nick said, his gaze moving past her.
“Am I interrupting anything?”
Jacinth shifted and turned to find Gladys Findley standing at the end of her walk. “No,” she assured her neighbor. “Join us. Your new tenant just repaired my broken water pipe.”
“So that’s why your lawn is soaked,” Gladys said. Her eyebrows arched. “Do you two know each other?”
“We didn’t until he came to my rescue last night and turned off my main water valve.”
“What a nice gesture,” Gladys said.
Gladys was slender with graying hair that—along with her makeup—was always impeccable. Today she wore brown pants and a pale blue sweater that complemented her deep-set eyes.
“I understand you’re having some other problems, as well,” Gladys said, her voice tentative, as if she hated to broach the subject. “You called the police.”
“Yes.” Jacinth searched in vain for a delicate way to say that a woman’s head had fallen out of her wall.
“Detective Greene came to see me today,” Gladys said, not waiting for Jacinth’s account. “He told me what happened. You must have been terrified.”
“Yes, evidently you missed my banshee scream.”
“We were out last night. Paul had gotten us tickets to the symphony.”
“Lucky you. Fortunately for me, Nick was around. He came running and stayed with me until the police arrived.”
Gladys turned her gaze toward Nick. “Not even completely moved in yet, and already you’re proving to be quite the heroic addition to our neighborhood.”
“I try to make a good first impression.” Nick stood and walked over to Gladys. “Exactly what did the detective have to say when he came to see you?”
“He questioned me about Marie Villaré’s friends.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That I didn’t really know Marie all that well. We spoke when we were both in the yard, but I’m ashamed to admit I had never even been inside the Villaré house until the week Marie was moving out. She invited me over then to ask if I’d look after her cat until her granddaughters arrived. That was the first I’d heard about Jacinth and Caitlyn.”
“Did you notice people coming and going from the house?” Jacinth asked.
“No. Marie seldom entertained guests and never family, at least that I knew of. I did know about her stepson who was murdered, but only because his ex-girlfriend still came around occasionally. If she saw me outside, she always stopped to talk.”
“It was my father who was murdered,” Jacinth corrected. “Micah Villaré, a son, not a stepson. He was killed when I was very young, and he was married to my mother at the time. I can’t imagine one of his old girlfriends still coming around.”
Gladys shook her head. “The girlfriend never mentioned a Micah. She only mentioned Luther and I’m sure she said he was Marie’s stepson and that he’d been killed three years ago while on a hunting trip in Alaska. It may be more like four years now, since it’s been a while since she told me about his death.”
If a stepson named Luther existed, Jacinth had never heard of him. No big surprise. There was much about the Villarés that she didn’t know. She’d have to find a way to remedy that.
“Anyway, I forgot to mention the girlfriend to the detective,” Gladys said. “I don’t know how close they were, but I know she came over and helped Marie move into the nursing facility.”
“What’s her name?” Nick asked.
“The first name was Carrie. I remember because I have a granddaughter named that. I think the last name was Marks, but I wouldn’t swear to it.”
“I’ll be in contact with the detective,” Jacinth said. “I’ll be glad to give him the name for you.”
“I’d appreciate that. I wish I could be more help, but I’m not the most social of neighbors and Marie was a very private person.”
“Losing two sons to murder might make you that way,” Jacinth said. And then Marie had lost her only daughter-in-law and her two granddaughters. More than ever, Jacinth wondered about the story behind that.
She was certain that the rejection had been provoked. Sophie Villaré had been a fantastic mother and Jacinth had never known her to be vengeful.
They talked for a few minutes more before Gladys wandered back across the lawns. But Jacinth had paid little attention to the rest of the conversation. Her concentration was on coming to grips with the situation and taking control.
She knew what she had to do. Tonight, after dinner, she’d be the one offering a proposition to Nick.
THERE WAS AMAZINGLY LITTLE unpacking to do. Nick’s kitchen equipment consisted of the bare necessities to prepare and serve a simple meal, but little else. A few pans, a set of crockery dishes, some very sharp knives and a set of mismatched flatware.
But the apartment was charming, the furnishings provided by the Findleys an eclectic blend of authentic antiques and what appeared to be renovated yard-sale finds.
Jacinth especially loved the kitchen with its French-style windows with swing-open sashes. The delicate curtains were in a flowered, provincial pattern. The range and refrigerator were modern, but the acacia wood French bistro dining set oozed old-world charm.
Too bad the dilapidated carriage house on the back of the Villaré property had been neglected for so long. They could have used the extra money a tenant would have brought in.
As it was, she wasn’t even sure the rickety structure was safe to enter and was surprised the city hadn’t insisted it be torn down. Likely the only reason they hadn’t was that the eyesore wasn’t visible from the street. Nick had lucked out finding a place this comfortable and quaint.
Jacinth was glad she’d thought to bring a bottle of wine for his first dinner in his new apartment. He’d served it in water glasses along with a melt-in-your-mouth fillet and a simple salad of fresh greens and avocado. The informality suited Nick’s personality to a T.
They lingered at the table after the meal, talking and sipping the pinot noir she’d been saving for a special occasion. This definitely qualified. She hadn’t enjoyed a man’s company this much in years, if ever.
Nick was funny and fascinating and she’d completely let down her guard with him, which was totally unlike her and probably not the best idea since she knew so little about him.
Jacinth knew she was usually somewhat standoffish around strangers. Some considered her downright stuffy. Her sister pointed that out to her on a regular basis. But she was a doctoral student, a future history professor. Could she help it if she acted like one?
Still, she’d like to be more outgoing and less afraid of new adventures—and of relationships. The last man she’d dated had complained she was cold.
He was wrong. She had heat. She was just waiting for the right man to light her fire.
“You travel light,” she said. “Or do you still have more belongings to move?”
“I have a few more boxes, mostly books and fishing gear. I’m a low-maintenance kind of guy.”
Or maybe he’d just broken up with a girlfriend or wife. That would explain his needing a furnished place and bringing so little with him. But what woman would be crazy enough to let him go?
“Where did you live before renting the carriage house?” she asked.
“On the Westbank.”
“Which is actually the East bank of the Mississippi River,” she said. “Or so a colleague explained it.”
&nbs
p; “He’s right. The river forms a crescent as it flows through the city so directions get confusing.”
“Did you live alone?”
“You’re just full of questions tonight.”
“Just trying to figure you out.”
He leaned back in his chair. “I’m not that complicated. And, yes, I lived alone.”
“Have you ever been married?”
“Nope. I came close once, but she came to her senses and left me for an NFL linebacker. He’s since left her, and she married their divorce attorney.”
“That must have devastated you.”
His lips parted in a slightly crooked smile that sent her pulse racing.
“The Saints not making the playoffs would leave me devastated,” he said. “Getting dumped by Janice for a rich jock pissed me off.”
She pushed her glass aside. “Then you probably deserved to get left.”
“No doubt about it. We were in lust, not love. I may have missed out on the love gene. How about you? Is there some guy who’d be fiercely jealous knowing I’m sitting across the table from you tonight and totally infatuated by the way your eyes sparkle beneath those incredible lashes?”
Warmth flushed her body and left a burn in her cheeks. “Not likely.”
“You’re much too modest. New Orleans men aren’t stupid. I’m sure you’re hit on regularly by students and professors.”
She smiled and offered an exaggerated batting of her eyes. “Maybe a few.” None as sexy or as exciting as Nick.
Nick finished his wine. “There’s a full moon tonight. How about we take a walk so that you can acquaint me with my new neighborhood?”
“I’d like that.” And it would give her even more time to decide how to phrase her proposition.
The night was mildly cool, the wind just strong enough to occasionally blow wisps of hair into Jacinth’s face. She pulled her ruby-colored cardigan tighter as she and Nick fell into an easy rhythm.
Jacinth had walked these streets many times, but always in the daytime and usually at a power-walk pace. Moonlight transformed the aging mansions along the wide avenue, making them appear much grander, more welcoming.
