“Who’s that?” Madge asked when she joined them.
Kate sat in a white wood chaise, facing away from them. Beside her on a stool, a man with a lot of curly brown hair talked quietly, his arms wrapped around his knees. A pale denim shirt stretched over his hunched back. Bleu thought he must be tall. He was certainly well-built.
Kate held a glass toward him and he picked up a jug from a tray on the grass and poured. Then he poured for himself, and they laughed again, their heads close together.
“Maybe another time.” Cyrus swung around and the hardness in his face shocked Bleu.
“Father Cyrus, is that you?”
Bleu saw Kate stand up.
The man also got to his feet. He moved a couple of steps away from her.
“Father? You will not go away without talkin’ to me. Whatever next? George, get more chairs, and glasses for tea.”
George, unsmiling, left at once.
“Hello, Kate,” Cyrus said, turning around again. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“That’s George Pinney,” Madge said, her voice low. “He and his wife have rooms in Jim’s house. George helps…helped Jim with things around the two properties. Mary manages Hungry Eyes. I don’t really know them well.”
Bleu and Madge glanced at one another.
“I’ve met Mary,” Bleu said, wishing it hadn’t been while she was in her pajamas. “But you know that.”
She called out to Kate, “Don’t go to any trouble, Mrs. Harper. We only want to know how you are.”
“And let you know how the case is progressing,” Cyrus added.
Kate held a starched lace fan. She flipped it open and wafted it very rapidly before her face. Over the top, she stared at them with pale blue eyes. Red hair curled beneath a broad-brimmed straw hat.
George Pinney came back with folding chairs slung behind one shoulder. He had little difficulty holding three in one hand. In the other, he carried glasses.
Quickly, he set up the chairs, lifted the tray from the grass to the stool he’d abandoned and poured for everyone. Then he stood away a little, wiping his hands on his dark pants.
“This is George,” Kate said, looking up at the man from beneath the brim of her hat. “I don’t know what I’d be doing without him and Mary. If I had to sit here all the time imagining my poor Jimmy lyin’ dead in the church, why, I think I’d just curl up and die. At least I could go to join Jimmy then.”
Bleu pursed her lips to stop a grin. This wasn’t supposed to be funny.
“Kate,” Cyrus said. “You know Jim’s body hasn’t been released—”
“No!” Kate completely hid her face with the fan. She shook her head and the hat brim wobbled. “Don’t, please, I can’t bear it. Who would do such a thing to a sweet, innocent man who never hurt a fly? I ask you, who would do that?”
“Someone who has lost his way in life,” Cyrus said gently. “We’re here for you. The whole town is here for you.”
“Not the whole town,” Kate said.
Cyrus shook his head. “Don’t think about any of that. Whatever you need, you’ve got it. We’ll make sure of it.”
Kate sniffed. “Thank you, Father.”
“Do you need something now?” Cyrus asked.
Bleu watched his honest face, looked at Madge watching him, too, and felt so sad.
“What I need is for some people in this town to stop sayin’ terrible things about me.” Kate dropped the fan in her lap and raised her pointed chin. She had a smooth, heart-shaped face, pale against her red hair, and now her spirit brought her back up straight. “I do know what’s been suggested. Jim and I have kept company for some years. We aren’t—weren’t—children, but our intentions were pure.”
“Of course they were,” Cyrus said.
“Weren’t they, George?” Kate said. “You and Mary have been here. You’re my witnesses that Jim and I had a chaste friendship. We were two lonely people who helped each other get through life. He made sure I was looked after. I kept him company.”
Bleu thought about the dinners she had cooked for him. She smiled at the woman. “And you made sure he didn’t starve,” she said. “You do remember me, Mrs. Harper. I’m Bleu Laveau. I so liked Jim—he was the best-tempered man.”
Kate’s white lace dress settled gracefully around her. Even her neck and the skin revealed between crisp lapels showed little sign of age.
“Jim Zachary would do anything for me,” Kate said, apparently not hearing what Bleu said. “George here did all the shoppin’ and Mary cooked our meals. Jim’s and mine, that is. We ate here. They ate over there.” She pointed a pale orange fingernail toward Jim Zachary’s house.
“That must have been a great comfort to you,” Madge said. She set the basket of baked goodies down near Kate.
Bleu took inventory of the woman. She wasn’t old, or even elderly. Early fifties at the most. And she showed no sign of arthritis that Bleu could see.
“What are you goin’ to do about this nonsense talk?” Kate asked Cyrus.
High-heeled pumps showed off a pair of slim ankles.
“If someone says something they shouldn’t, I’ll be sure to have a chat,” Cyrus told her. “But you don’t have to worry about that. You’ve got other things on your mind.”
“I surely do,” Kate said. Her mouth trembled. “I laugh because I don’t want to cry. I talk as if I’m angry because it stops me from screamin’. I dress myself up and put on makeup because there’s no way I’m going to let folks in this town, the ones who don’t like me, chatter about how I’m lettin’ myself go. Jim wouldn’t like it and neither do I.”
“I admire you for that,” Madge said. “I don’t know if I could be as strong.”
Bleu couldn’t keep her eyes off Kate’s shoes. They didn’t look very big, but neither were they tiny. Were they large enough to make the footprints outside the rectory?
Now she was being a fool. No way would this fastidious woman climb around in the mud—or pack filthy burned books into a box and wrap it up like a wedding gift. And Jim would have had to put his head down on the pew and hold still while Kate stabbed that knife through his neck.
Bleu swallowed several times.
Even then, it was doubtful Kate could have got the blade to go in, skewer the bench, then pull the thing out.
Nausea washed over Bleu.
Two tears slipped from the corners of Kate’s eyes. “I told him not to get involved,” she whispered.
Cyrus caught Bleu’s eye and shook his head slightly. “Whoever did that to Jim wasn’t rational,” he said. “I think it was a random thing.”
“No, Father. My Jim died because he was too good and because he always championed the underdog.” Her china-blue gaze settled, without malice, on Bleu. “He told me how angry he was that people didn’t treat you well, Bleu. He thought the new school was a wonderful idea, and the senior center, well, he couldn’t stop talkin’ about that. He wanted there to be a place for the old people to go. He talked about hiring a nurse to be there just in case, and makin’ the place handicapped accessible. There would be plenty of room in the end, that’s what he said. Although I never could figure out how.” She raised her shoulders and she held her glass out.
George Pinney scrambled to refill her iced tea and Kate drank, raising her delicate white throat.
“Poor George,” Kate said. “He lost his job, you know.”
“Now, Miz Harper,” George said, his face darkening. “No need to bother people with my little troubles, not when there’s much bigger things to worry about.”
“I think it embarrasses him if I talk about it,” Kate said, as if the man couldn’t hear every word of her conversation. “He used to be quite somethin’. Worked for a law firm in N’awlins, not that I know anythin’ about things like that. Now look at him. And Mary’s away all day workin’ at that café. Not a suitable job for an educated woman at all.”
Bleu’s attention repeatedly wandered. She didn’t think she liked Kate Harper and felt so
rry for George Pinney, who must need whatever he earned working around the two houses or he would never tolerate being humiliated by Kate.
“I’m going to have to get back,” Cyrus said. “But I did want to cover a few things with you first, Kate.”
“Of course, Father.” She leaned forward and slipped a slim hand into one of his big, tanned ones. “You can make me feel safe and that’s a blessin’.”
“Would you rather we spoke alone?”
“Why?” Kate stared around. “Are you goin’ to say somethin’ that people who care about me can’t hear?”
“Not a thing.” Cyrus smiled at her and his chest expanded with the big breath he took. “Are you okay for money? I mean do you have enough for your running expenses?”
Kate nodded. “Thank you for askin’. Some would shy away from a delicate subject like that. I know my late husband didn’t provide for me, but other members of my family did and I’ll manage. I didn’t want Jim to leave me anythin’, but he wouldn’t hear of anythin’ else. It’ll be a while before things can be settled, but then—” she looked away “—then I’ll be a rich woman. Rich with no one to share anythin’ with. I’d give up everythin’ I have if I could get Jim back.”
“I know you would,” Cyrus said.
Madge and Bleu looked at each other and quickly away again. Cyrus was serious. The woman was sucking him right in with the helpless-victim act. Why did men fall for that?
“Do you know if Jim has any other relatives?” Cyrus asked. He had told Madge and Bleu that Spike wanted him to ask these questions so Spike wouldn’t have to.
“If he did have any, he never mentioned them,” Kate said.
“When the coroner is finished with his…work, Jim’s funeral will have to be arranged. I know you aren’t related to him, but since the two of you were close, if there aren’t any relatives, you should be the one to decide how things are done. If you want to, of course.”
Kate put her feet on the chaise again. She folded her hands in her lap and looked far away.
“Kate?” Cyrus said.
“Don’t press me,” she said. “I can’t bear it. Madge, you arrange everything and let me know the details. You’re used to these things. He liked a rose in his buttonhole. There’s to be a fresh one for the viewin’. And plenty of food for after the service. Champagne so we can toast Jim.
“Make sure I’m in the front pew and I’ll walk behind the casket. That’s the least I can do for him.”
Bleu eyed the shoes one more time. Just because the prints Roche found might have been too big didn’t mean a thing. With the mud being wet, a person’s feet could have slipped and made the prints bigger.
“I’ll talk to y’all another time,” Kate said.
Cyrus got up at once, and Bleu followed with Madge.
Unexpectedly, Kate turned sharp eyes on Bleu. “Enough damage has been done because of this silly scheme of yours.”
Bleu’s skin prickled.
“A fancy school in a little place like this? Such airs. And who’s going to afford to send their children there, I’d like to know?”
“Kate,” Cyrus put in quickly. “Bleu didn’t decide we should have a school, the parishioners did—or many of them. Bleu’s only here because we asked her to come and help us.”
“Give it up, before someone else dies,” Kate said, still focused on Bleu. “It’s a cursed idea. You weren’t here and I was just a child, but that old school went up in flames and a lot of children died. Burned to death. Trapped in that little hall in there. They were singin’ in the mornin’, their little faces turned up like flowers to the sun. And they all died.”
Madge made a strangled sound.
“Kate, Kate,” Cyrus said. “No one talks about it. I didn’t even know there had been deaths. How terrible.”
Tears brimmed in her eyes. “Don’t you go buildin’ another school. Hear me, girl? Not again—or I know terrible things are goin’ to happen. They already did, didn’t they?” She leaned forward, as if begging for understanding.
“Hush,” Bleu said. Before she could stop herself, she put a hand on the woman’s cheek.
Kate pressed her own fingers over Bleu’s and kissed her palm.
Revulsion cramped Bleu’s stomach but she didn’t pull away.
“I’ll tell you how I know,” Kate said, crying openly. “I was late for school that day. When I got there, the place was all smoke and flames and people tryin’ to save the little children. The mothers and fathers cryin’ and screamin’. But I was late, so I was fine. The whole area knew about it, but that generation’s all but gone now. People came from all over to help. I can still see all the parents tryin’ to rescue their babies.
“I walked home just sobbin’ all the way. I walked home alone. Nobody came lookin’ for me.”
Chapter 22
Roche leaned on the hood of his car with his ankles crossed.
He had better look more nonchalant than he felt. Sam Bush told him Bleu had gone with Cyrus and Madge to see Kate Harper and Roche decided he would come to Kate’s and wait for Bleu.
Given the changes between them, the uncertain feeling he had didn’t make a lot of sense, except that Bleu had stood him up before and he was afraid that, after the morning’s drama, she might do it again.
He had to see her.
Another half hour passed before he saw Madge lead the way from the side of the house with Cyrus and Bleu behind her. All three looked at their feet, and their faces didn’t give him confidence that he’d get a happy greeting.
But his excuse for showing up was in the can, and it was good.
Bleu saw him first but didn’t wave. He did.
She must have said something, because the others looked in his direction and Cyrus did raise a hand.
“Hey,” he said when they got closer. “Sam told me Bleu was here. I figured since it was past time for her to go home, I’d stop by and take her.”
Cyrus said, “Good. She needs to get out of here.” He pulled his eyebrows down. “It’s been difficult.”
“I should go back to the rectory and finish up some things,” Bleu said.
Roche kept the smile on his face, but his jaws locked. Sure you should. And you intend to duck out on me again, don’t you?
“Absolutely not,” Cyrus told her. “You’ve had a long, hard day, and I don’t want you back at the rectory. Madge or I will come and get you after morning mass tomorrow.”
“No need,” Bleu said. “I’m getting a bicycle.”
“The hell you are.” Damn it, Roche thought. His unruly mouth got him every time. “I mean, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Fortunately, it isn’t a decision you have to make,” Bleu said. “I’ll be fine. I’ll get something from the insurance on my car. When I can, I’ll get another one. Ozaire Dupre told me he can find good second-hand ones. He might already have found me a bike, and he knows about a dog he thinks I’d love, too. Only I can’t get one yet.”
“Ozaire’s a regular one-man procurement machine,” Roche said. “I hope you didn’t pay him for a bike before seeing it. He probably pulled it out of the bayou.”
“What did he do to you?” Bleu said. “He’s been nice to me.”
Roche looked at the toes of his shoes. “Ozaire’s got a lot of good points.” He decided not to bring up the man’s willingness to assassinate someone’s character when he had no proof.
“Why don’t you come back with us, Bleu?” Madge asked. She put an arm around Bleu’s shoulders. “I’ll take you to Rosebank with me, and you can really rest. You’ll need to air your place out before you sleep there.”
Roche crossed his arms and watched Madge. She wouldn’t look at him. “That ozone stuff does great things,” he said. “The fire department sprayed it all over so there’s no smell. And the door’s been fixed.”
Bleu’s eyes glittered as if she might cry. “Thank you,” she said.
He didn’t want gratitude, but he did want to know why Madge was getting in
the middle.
“I think Kate is deeply upset,” Cyrus said. “I’ll counsel her if she’ll let me, but perhaps she’ll come and talk to you, Roche. We expect grief, but one moment she’s in denial about Jim’s death and the next she’s angry and confrontational about it.”
“I’ll see if I can make an excuse to talk to her,” Roche said. Bleu was staring at him. “I could get Dr. Reb to take me with her. She probably plans on coming over here anyway.”
“Good idea.” Cyrus slapped his shoulder. “See if you can get Bleu to eat something. I don’t think I’ve seen her have a meal all day.”
“She’s taking me out to dinner,” Roche said, smiling at each of them. “We’re going for Chinese takeout.”
Cyrus laughed and glanced at Madge. “I might see if Madge will share a lonely priest’s chicken pie,” he said. “Lil Dupre prides herself on the ones she makes for me.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Madge said, all smiles. She sobered at once. “There’s plenty there for you, Bleu.”
A confused light entered Cyrus’s eyes. “Bleu and Roche are eating together,” he said. “We’d best get back.”
All the way to Cyrus’s car, Madge repeatedly craned to see Bleu and Roche.
“What’s up with Madge?” Roche said. He settled a hand on Bleu’s back but she hurried to his car, away from his touch.
When they were side by side in the front seat of the BMW, he said, “I’ve got the food in the trunk. I didn’t think you’d feel like stopping.”
She turned her face from him and kept it averted, while he drove away negotiating the narrow, mostly unimproved roads in the area where Kate lived.
A pinkish-gray haze hung in the distance. Waiting for Bleu, he’d been aware of how heavy the air felt, but the moisture that formed on his back had little to do with that. “How was your day?” he asked. Lame.
“Not so good. But there wasn’t any reason it should be.” She face forward and lifted her chin. The humidity had curled her hair.
“I was serious about what I got for dinner,” he told her. “There’s a new Chinese place on Main Street.”
She showed no interest.
“I meant what I said about the ozone spray, too. That stuff’s a miracle. The fire didn’t actually go through the wall of the house, but plenty of smoke got in.”
Cypress Nights Page 19
