The Unknown Woman

by Laurie Paige

  Kerry did. She laid her head on his shoulder and let the hot sad tears fall.

  Matt didn’t say a word, but simply held her, one hand rubbing her back until her tears were spent. In a few minutes, she sniffed and managed a laugh.

  “How embarrassing,” she said, trying for a light tone.

  “How human,” he corrected.

  The tears threatened again. His smile was exquisitely tender. She held the emotion in check as she leaned her head against his arm and gazed up at his wonderful face.

  “Kerry,” he said.

  He kissed her and it reawakened everything she’d experienced last night. He made her feel hunger, yes, but there was more.

  Wonder and happiness filled her. The blood seemed to rush in a giddy stream through her body, and she felt almost light-headed.

  She clasped his shoulders and held on as tightly as she could while the world disappeared in a hazy mist….

  SHORTLY BEFORE DINNER, Kerry took a relaxing soak, then did her nails and hair. After dressing in slacks and a cotton sweater with a matching cardigan in case the evening got cool, she called her sister.

  “Hey, Sharon,” she said, recognizing the voice that answered on the third ring.

  “Kerry!” her sister shrieked in her ear as if she’d been gone for years rather than three days. “Are you having a wonderful time? Have you met a divine man yet?”

  Kerry laughed and answered the second question honestly. “Yes, I’ve met a divine man. I am having a good time, but there are complications.”

  “What kind of complications?”

  “It’s a long story, but first, how are the kids?”

  “Very spotty,” Sharon said and gave a long-suffering sigh. “The doctor said we were lucky. The vaccine, which doesn’t always prevent chicken pox, at least made it a much lighter case. I’m grateful for that,” she added sardonically. “I’m pretty sure Ryan and I couldn’t handle a heavy case of scratching and whining. Oh, the kids also want to know when their wonderful, story-reading aunt is coming home. I told them ‘never’ if they continued to fight.”

  Kerry made sympathetic noises.

  “Now get back to the complications,” Sharon ordered. “And don’t leave out the divine hunk part.”

  “Well, I guess I should start at the beginning.” She began with lunch on Saturday and described meeting Patti, the waitress. Then she covered the voodoo museum and Queen Patrice and Madame Jolie, the python.

  “Yuck,” Sharon said. “I couldn’t touch a snake, much less let it hang all over me. What if it had decided to give you a squeeze?”

  “Well, it didn’t. Hush, now, and let me finish.”

  With all her sister’s interruptions, it took over an hour for Kerry to finally get to Matt.

  “Matt Anderson,” Sharon repeated. “Kerry Anderson doesn’t sound bad.”

  “Sharon, puh-leeze. We just met.” She sighed. “It does seem we’ve known each other a lot longer. I’ve never run across anyone that I liked half so much in such a short time. Isn’t that odd?”

  “No, it isn’t. Have you gone to bed with him yet?”

  “Well, I’ve thought of it,” Kerry admitted. “A lot.”

  Sharon laughed like a maniac while Kerry winced.

  “Live it up, big sister,” Sharon advised. “How often do you get to go to someplace warm and romantic like New Orleans? Did you see on the news that we are enjoying a balmy twenty degrees and snow flurries?”

  “Well, it’s in the sixties here and I’m sizzling.”

  Sharon whooped with laughter again.

  Kerry told her about the country club and the three glasses of wine and a cocktail. “Matt was a perfect gentleman and didn’t take advantage. I must admit I’m not much of a lady. I want to drag him into my lair—uh, suite—each time I see him.”

  “Go for it!”

  “You think I should?”

  “Yes, I do. You’re much too controlled. Lose your head—at least for a little while. Just don’t forget protection.”

  “Yeah, like: Hi, Matt. My place or yours? Do you have condoms or shall I pick up a box? Uh-huh, I can see it now.” Kerry’s voice held more than a touch of cynicism.

  “You’re not blasé enough to carry that off,” Sharon told her, “but you could relax and let nature take its course. Who knows? It could be the beginning of a happily-ever-after ending.”

  “I’d settle for happy-right-now and forget the ending.”

  Images flashed through her mind. Of Matt in black briefs with strong, muscular legs and lean hips. In jeans and a shirt, a sweater draped round his shoulders for the healing ceremony. In an expensive suit, quite at ease among the elite of the city and making her feel as lovely as any queen. The happiness she’d mentioned flooded her heart.

  “Atta girl,” Sharon said. “One more thing. I’m at my computer. Would you like me to see if I can get any info on the Ruoui family of Louisiana?”

  “Yes. Matt and I are planning to find Patti’s childhood home and scatter her ashes there. I think it’s called Cordon Rouge. I hope that’s the place of rest for her spirit—at least that’s what the old voodoo queen suggested.”

  “Most of us look back on our childhoods as happy times. Hey, I got something on a Ruoui family near New Orleans.” Sharon read the details. “A big wedding over thirty years ago. The bride was a debutante. If this is Patti’s family, that must have been in the days when they still had money or pretended to.”

  “Great. Can you find anything that mentions Patti or Patrice Ruoui?”

  “Oh-oh, I hear fighting in the family room,” Sharon interrupted. “I have to go. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Have fun, Kerry, and I mean it!”

  After hanging up the phone, Kerry lingered in her room, her thoughts turning to Matt. She wondered if he had locked their adjoining door. If he hadn’t and she opened it, what would he think?

  She was tempted to take her sister’s advice and have some fun on this trip. Oh, yes, she was tempted. What had years of being reserved gotten her but a bruised heart and intense loneliness. Besides, this was likely the only vacation of this kind that she would ever have.

  Taking a liberating breath, she decided to go for it…if Matt was agreeable. Remembering the look in his eyes when he’d promised they would have another time, she was positive he was. Well, almost positive.

  As she stood, the charm bracelet jingled merrily. She realized a ray of sunshine had found a slit in the sheer curtains over the window and shone on her arm. That must be the reason the bracelet suddenly felt so warm against her skin.

  KERRY STOOD near Luc Carter’s desk and admired a flower arrangement. She wanted to talk to the concierge about botanical gardens in the area since her grandmother, a gardening enthusiast, was sure to ask.

  He was turned away from her and speaking in a low voice on a cell phone. She couldn’t hear the words, but he sounded…angry.

  “I can’t…” he began, but she couldn’t hear the rest. “The blackout did enough damage.”

  Kerry realized he must be speaking of the weekend’s events at the lovely old hotel. The staff seemed so loyal to the Marchand family. She sighed and headed for her room to see if Matt had returned. The botanical garden could wait.

  LUC STABBED THE BUTTON on his phone to end the call. He’d sensed someone waiting to see him, but no one was there when he turned around.

  Things seemed to be growing out of control. He’d stolen a Wyeth painting from the hotel gallery to stir up trouble for the Marchand family, but he’d returned it before Sylvie, who ran the gallery, had alerted anyone. He figured he’d done his part to destroy the hotel’s reputation by filling the generator’s feed line with sugar. The timing of the blackout was a lucky break—his only one lately. He’d messed up several of the guest rooms to unnerve people, and his tactics had worked to a degree.

  But it wasn’t enough for Dan and Richard. They were pressuring him to do more. He was beginning to regret his involvement with the brothers. After workin
g for them in Thailand, he knew their business ethics were questionable. They wanted to destroy the Hotel Marchand’s reputation so they could buy it cheap, then flip it for a quick profit. Just as they’d done with previous properties.

  Rubbing a hand across his forehead, he admitted that he wasn’t sure anymore about hurting his aunt and her daughters. They didn’t seem as bad as he’d thought they must be. But then it was his grandmother Celeste who was the real witch—the person responsible for his father’s raw deal in life.

  He threw himself into a comfortable armchair, glad no one wanted information or a booking for a fancy restaurant at the moment.

  Forcing his reservations aside, he reminded himself that he’d laid his plans with care. Things were working out. All he had to do was keep a low profile, a cool head, and the hotel would sink….

  MATT FELT ONLY a little guilt for not telling Kerry all he’d done earlier. At present, he was on his way to a review of a restaurant wine cellar, but he’d spent the last hour filling out forms at the crematorium and selecting an urn and cremation box.

  There was no way he would put Kerry through that. He could tell she was still troubled by her cousin’s suicide and Patti’s lack of family.

  Just thinking of Kerry brought a smile to his face and a surge in his pulse rate. And a desire to return to her as quickly as possible. With a grimace, he realized that wasn’t going to be soon.

  For the rest of the afternoon, he concentrated on his job. He and his host reviewed one of the most extensive wine lists he’d ever encountered in a restaurant. Both French and California wines were generously represented, but there was also a good selection from New York and Virginia, Australia and South Africa. They sampled twelve bottles, of which two were excellent, the rest fine as dinner wines.

  When Matt finished nearly three hours later, his impatience to return to the Hotel Marchand surprised him. Before he could analyze the feeling, he ran into another man as he left the restaurant.

  “Jason,” he said. “How are you?”

  Jason Pichante stared at him in open hostility. “What the hell are you trying to pull?”

  Matt studied the angry young man while suppressing his own aroused temper. “What’s your problem?” he asked once he’d cooled down.

  “You talked to my father this morning,” Jason accused him. “He said you wanted permission to…”

  Jason was overcome by emotion, but Matt didn’t feel very sympathetic.

  “…to collect Patti’s…remains.”

  “Yes. She made friends with Kerry. Since there appears to be no next of kin, Kerry and I took over. The old voodoo queen, who was Patti’s spiritual advisor, said we should have a cremation.”

  Jason stared at the pavement while Matt spoke. He could have been made of stone, Matt thought. He was that motionless.

  When he still didn’t speak, Matt continued, “We were also told to scatter her ashes in a place that would bring her rest.” He paused. “Do you happen to know where that would be? A place where she was happy?”

  The pupils of his eyes were so wide, Jason’s irises looked black. Matt thought they reflected a bleakness within his soul. He felt a little sorry for the younger man.

  “There was a place,” Jason said in a voice so low Matt had to lean closer to hear. “I don’t know if she would find peace there.”

  “Cordon Rouge?” Matt asked.

  Jason’s hand, which was fisted at his side, jerked at the name. “Yes. Her home…a long time ago.”

  “Do you know how to find it?”

  A moment slipped by before Jason spoke. He gave Matt directions to a tiny town called Indigo out on Bayou Teche, southwest of New Orleans in Cajun country. “You can ask in town. They can direct you to the plantation. It’s part of the national wetlands now, so it’s public land.”

  “Thanks. I’ll tell Kerry.”

  Jason nodded and started on down the street. He paused. “Are you going out there soon?”

  “Tomorrow,” Matt told him.

  The younger man clenched his hand again, then he crossed the street, without another word.

  As he watched Jason go, Matt noticed a branch of the bank that the Pichante family owned. He wondered if Jason worked for the family business.

  Starting out once more, he quickly walked the few blocks to the hotel. His heart felt much lighter as he entered the courtyard from the alley. Odd, he thought, how you could meet someone and suddenly life seemed better…

  He spotted Kerry seated at a table under an umbrella, talking to two women. He headed toward her.

  “Hello,” she said upon seeing him, her manner so full of welcome it was all he could do to keep from crushing her against him and holding her, just holding her.

  Cool it, some saner part of him cautioned. While Kerry seemed the embodiment of all his dreams, he wasn’t going to lose his head over any woman.

  “Good afternoon,” he said to all three women.

  “You’ve met Charlotte,” Kerry continued, “and this is her mother, Anne Marchand. I was just telling them about Patti’s cremation and our plans for tomorrow.”

  Matt shook hands with the older woman, who was around sixty, he estimated, but looked younger and was in fact a very attractive woman. By contrast her daughter seemed tired and stressed, as if she hadn’t slept well lately.

  Since Saturday night, he was willing to bet. His gaze went to Kerry, who looked bright and alert and, okay, wholesome in slacks and a sweater that showed off her curves to perfection. It seemed to Matt she grew more beautiful each time he saw her.

  “Join us,” Kerry invited, smiling up at him.

  He sat in the vacant chair between Kerry and Anne.

  “I must tell you that I’m surprised at what you two are doing for that unfortunate young woman,” Anne said, looking from one to the other. She shook her head. “You are living proof of the kindness of strangers.”

  A silence, tense with sadness, ensued. Kerry’s eyes were moistened, Matt noticed.

  “I stopped by the crematorium,” he told her, his tone gentle. “Everything is going as planned.”

  She laid a hand on his arm, her eyes on him as if he’d done some heroic deed. “Thank you, Matt. That’s a load off my mind.” She turned to the two women. “We’re going to find her former home and scatter her ashes there.”

  “The detective said she listed no next of kin at the restaurant where she worked,” Charlotte mentioned.

  “Kerry and I did some sleuthing and found out where she was from,” Matt said. “There was once a family plantation.” He turned to look at Kerry. “It’s not far from Lafayette. If we leave between nine and ten in the morning, we should have plenty of time. I’ve arranged for a rental car.”

  Kerry pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. “Oh, I didn’t think about transportation and all that. Yes, let’s leave early and get it over with.”

  “You two haven’t had a vacation at all,” Anne protested. “You’re using your time to help others.”

  Charlotte nodded. “I agree. It so happens there have been a few cancellations since Saturday.” She smiled at the couple. “Won’t you stay another week as our guests? That seems only fair. Or if that isn’t possible, then you must return another time and give us a chance to make your stay here as pleasant—and uneventful—as it should be.”

  “That’s very kind of you,” Kerry said. “I could stay over a couple of days. I didn’t schedule any appointments until next Thursday in order to have a few days to settle in before I return to work. How about you?”

  When she glanced at Matt, he nodded agreement. “I’ll be writing an article based on my research in the city. I can do it here as well as in New York.”

  “Wonderful,” Anne said, rising and wishing them all a good day.

  Charlotte paused after her mother left them. “Please have dinner as our guests this evening. In fact, all your meals will be comped. I insist,” she added when Matt and Kerry assured her they expected no such thing.

&nbs
p; “Well,” Matt said when he was alone with Kerry, “my publisher will be pleased. My expense account should be much lower than expected on this trip.”

  “What about the rental car?” she asked.

  “That’s a personal expense,” he said, “something I want to do. With you.”

  Her eyes widened, then gleamed with pleasure. “Me, too,” she said softly.

  Matt’s heart set off again. That old black magic of legend and song had them in its spell, it seemed.

  Funny, but in this case, he didn’t mind. Being attracted to Kerry was fine. As long as he didn’t do anything stupid like think he was falling in love.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ON WEDNESDAY, Kerry and Matt were in the rental car and heading out of the city shortly before ten. In her lap she held a wooden urn carved with good Ju-Ju symbols and lightning bolts. The lightning must represent thunder, she assumed, which symbolized the Spirit of Healing.

  She inhaled deeply and caught the fresh scent of Matt’s shampoo and aftershave. Tingles rushed over her nerve endings. Odd, to be happy and sad at the same time.

  Thinking of Patti reminded her of her beloved cousin, who had gone off alone to die. Presumably Patti’s date—Kerry had a gut feeling it was Jason Pichante—had been with her when she died, but she thought the beautiful young woman had mostly lived a very lonely life.

  “You’re quiet,” Matt said when they were out of town and on the highway.

  “I thought most men were grateful for that,” she teased, trying for a light tone.

  “Not when I know it’s because you’re sad. Besides, I like it when you talk to me.”

  His voice was so deep, so warm, it added another ache to her heart. She would hate to leave New Orleans.

  And him.

  Holding the seat belt out of the way, she turned so she could face him, one leg drawn up under her. His profile was endearing, his features strong. Maturity and responsibility rested easily on his broad shoulders. Glancing at the urn, she acknowledged he was a man who knew how to get things done. He had made this trip much easier for her in many ways.