Madam Temptress
Page 14
My sobs, pitiful sobs, fill the air, and Moses holds me closer, anchoring me to his strength.
Goddamn you, Bernie. I loved you so much, and I didn’t tell you either. Why didn’t we just get over our stupid pride and tell each other all the things that really mattered?
“I’m here, mama. Cry it out. I got you,” Moses whispers in my ear as he rocks me back and forth.
“She didn’t ever s-say she was sorry.” I manage to get the words out, punctuated only with a few hiccups. “She put me on the street when I was sixteen, and . . . and she never told me she regretted it.”
“Oh, baby. No. You know that woman lived with regret every single day of her whole fucking life about it. You know she did. She had to. She loved you. You know it deep down.”
I shake my head, blinking the tears out of my eyes so I can see his face. “She never said it, though. I didn’t know I was waiting for it. I didn’t know I needed it. But now I’ll never get it.”
Moses crushes me to him with an embrace that holds me together. “You felt it. She felt it. That’s why she didn’t have to say it. She knew you knew.”
My tears soak his shirt as gut-wrenching wails take over. I did feel it. I believe she regretted it too. But I still wanted to hear her admit it.
I lose track of how long we’re on our knees, but when my tears finally dry, Moses is still wrapped around me, keeping me from splintering apart.
I rise, and he comes along, sitting beside me on the bed. I gaze into his green-gold eyes. “She was the only family I had left, and now she’s gone.”
The tears burning behind my eyes don’t spill over this time, but I feel them there all the same. Taunting me. Telling me I’m not strong enough to get through all of this at once. Telling me the grief will win if I let it.
“You’ve got family, mama. Right here. I’m with you to the end. You and I are ride or die. And my boys are your family too, if you want ’em. They’ll drive you fucking nuts, but they’re here for you. And Keira, she fucking loves you like a sister. You have family. Doesn’t matter if they don’t share blood. In the end, blood doesn’t make you closer. It’s about who you love and who loves you back.”
I blink back wetness again as I think about what he said. About who loves me and who I love.
“I love you,” I blurt out, not sure why, but I have to say it that very second.
“I know you do, mama. And I love you so goddamned much. We’ll get through this together. First one minute. Then one hour. And then one day at a time.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, my head pounding like twin drums. “I just can’t believe she’s gone. I swear, she lived to disapprove of everything I’ve ever said or done.”
“She wouldn’t have disapproved if she didn’t care,” Moses says with a small smile.
I think of all the arguments Bernie and I had over the years. If that’s any indication, then she cared a whole hell of a lot.
“I’m going to miss that old bat something fierce. There are days I would’ve sworn it wasn’t true. But, goddamn it, I loved to rile her up. God, I’m going to miss that too.”
Moses pulls me closer and lifts me up to sit across his lap, with his arms holding me tight. “Of course you will. But I’m pretty damn sure it wouldn’t have mattered when this happened. It would have always been too soon. That’s just how it works.”
I lay my cheek against his chest and let him hold me while I soak up his warmth and strength. “You learn all that from losing your grand-mère?”
Moses sweeps the hair away from my face and tucks it behind my ear. “Yeah, that taught me a hell of a lot, even if I didn’t go the right way with life after she passed. It’s been a long damn time since I had blood family in my life. Which is why I know the family you make for yourself is just as important, because that’s all I’ve got left.”
I peek up at him as he swipes his fingers across my cheeks once more to clear away the tears. “I’m so sorry you lost her, but I’m really glad you found a new family too. I don’t know what I’d do without you right now.”
A ghost of a smile touches his lips. Just enough to give me hope that this dark, oily emotion churning in the pit of my stomach and leaking into my chest won’t last forever. Because right now, the hold it has on me feels stronger than anything I’ve ever felt before.
“We’ll make it through this together, mama. I got you. I’ll hold you together, no matter what.”
And we stay like that, me on Moses’s lap, his arms around me, until I fall asleep.
Thirty-Two
Magnolia
The morning of Bernie’s funeral dawns gray and cloudy, with a drizzle of rain that she probably requested specifically from the Big Man upstairs. Bernie would totally do that kind of thing. She was old school about mourning, and would definitely want us to be reminded that today is a solemn occasion, not one for celebration.
What surprises me more than anything is the four SUVs waiting at the curb when we go out, all dressed in black, to head to the graveside service.
Moses notices my hesitation. “Mount and I discussed security. There’s a damn good possibility Reyes knows about the funeral, and I’m not taking any chances with you. We came up with a plan that gets you there and back safely. If Reyes tries to come at us, we’ll take him down.”
My mind hasn’t been on Reyes or our less-than-ideal situation all week. In all honesty, nothing has been on my mind but the weight of my grief and regrets.
I’ve slept, cried, spent time with Keira and Rory, made love with Moses, played chess, and just tried to get through each day. I haven’t even talked to my girls—but Moses and the guys have handled everything, explaining the delay in their safe return, and promising to help them get back on their feet once everything dies down.
I’ve let every ball I’ve been juggling fall, but instead of shattering, Moses has been there to catch and handle even the biggest responsibilities. He’s an amazing man, and I don’t know what I’d do without him.
I think of the lie he didn’t want to admit to telling me. The lie our entire relationship was based on. I was right, I think. Because one lie that didn’t hurt anyone doesn’t matter when compared to hundreds of his actions, proving exactly who he is at the heart of it all.
And now, he and Mount have arranged everything so I can actually go to Bernie’s funeral without looking over my shoulder every five seconds for a man who wants me dead—when I didn’t think about making sure I stayed safe at all.
“Thank you,” I whisper to him as he helps me into one of the SUVs.
Jules and Trey are in the one behind us. Mount and Keira are in the one in front of us. I don’t know who is in the lead car, but it doesn’t matter. My family is coming along to stand by my side while I say good-bye to someone who mattered to me. It feels good knowing people care enough about me to do that.
All week, I’ve grappled with the fact that I’m never going to hear Bernie say those words I wanted to hear, and I think I’m starting to finally make my peace with it. But, God, it’s hard to let go of something you needed from someone you’ll never see again.
I take a slow breath, careful not to let the tears start rolling again. I haven’t cried as much in my entire life as I have this week. I guess I’ve never had the luxury. But grief is ruthless and sneaks up when I least expect it, taking me by surprise in vicious waves. My only hope for today is to get through this and give Bernie a proper good-bye.
Thirty minutes later, the vehicle slows to a halt behind the one in front of us, and the driver shifts into park.
“Whenever you’re ready, mama. We’ve got a few minutes before we need to get out.”
I peer out the window at the marble buildings of the funeral home and cemetery, and take a deep breath. I can do this. “I’m ready. Let’s not keep Bernie waiting. She hated that.”
Moses gives me a sympathetic smile and opens the door. He climbs out, then offers me his arm. With my head held high, we march toward the entrance together.
As soon as I’ve said my hello to him and thanked him for helping his aunt earlier this week, Norma holds out her arms, and the tears I’ve been holding at bay scald my raw eyes.
“Oh, child. So good to see you,” she whispers as she wraps her wiry arms around me. “You don’t need to weep for ol’ Bernie. She wouldn’t want your tears. You know better than that.”
I snuffle them back because Norma is undoubtedly right. “I can’t seem to stop them lately,” I say, shaking my head as I dab at the corners of my eyes with a tissue.
Norma clasps my shoulders with her palms. “Because you’re a good woman, Magnolia Marie. Anytime you need a reminder of that, you just call Norma. I may not be good for much else at this age, but at least I’m good for that.”
I throw my arms around her and squeeze her tight. “Thank you so much for everything you did for her. You were truly the only person she liked.”
Norma’s laugh comes out like a cackle. “That’s where she had everyone fooled. Bernie cared too much about too many people. Left her feeling stripped bare after a spell, so she covered it all up best she could with a streak of contrariness.”
I release her from the embrace and jerk my head back in shock. “I don’t believe that for a second.”
Norma smiles and reaches into her pocket. “This might help. The pastor found it in the book I gave him on the funeral service. Bernie must have stashed it in there.”
I study the envelope in her hand. My name is written in Bernie’s precise script. Part of me is terrified of what might be in it, but the other part is hoping against hope her words will give me comfort.
Norma must read the indecision on my face. “Read it when you’re ready. It’s not going anywhere.” Then her attention lifts above my head. “It’s good to see you too, sir.”
The warmth of Moses’s presence behind me is a comfort as he reaches out a hand to shake Norma’s.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again, ma’am. Thank you so much for everything you’ve done. We appreciate it more than you know.”
Her smile is just as bright as ever. “It was Bernie’s specific request that I handle it so the burden wouldn’t fall on Magnolia. She never wanted to be a burden.”
As she says the words, the letter practically scorches my hand. I want to open it right then, but I don’t want to break down in front of everyone, so I slip it into my purse.
“Mags?”
A familiar voice comes from behind us, and security steps forward to block her before Keira waves them back.
“Temperance? How did you . . .” I glance from her to Keira, who has to be the reason she’s here.
“Keira told me. Kane couldn’t make it, but I wanted to be here for you.”
Another hug has me fighting to choke back my emotions. “Thank you for coming.”
“Of course.”
She squeezes me hard until Mount taps Moses on the shoulder, and we hear him say, “Time to get things rolling.”
We separate, and I kiss her on the cheek. I’ve always liked the girl, and couldn’t be more thrilled she finally found her path to being happy.
Moses takes my arm and leads me toward the small area where the pastor waits to perform the service. As soon as we’re all in place, he begins. Even though I should be paying attention, my mind is on the note in my purse.
What did you want to say to me, Bernie? Why couldn’t you say it while you were still here? If you decided to give me one last dressing-down in this letter, I swear I’m going to burn it.
A chuckle almost escapes from my lips as I think about Bernie sending down a lightning bolt in my direction for the very thought. But she doesn’t. The pastor begins to sing a hymn, and a few voices from the crowd, most notably Norma’s, join in, making it carry far beyond the marble walls surrounding us.
When the short service is done and the last blessing is said, I move forward to shake his hand.
“Thank you, Pastor. Bernie would’ve been very pleased.”
Much to my surprise, he chuckles. “I don’t know about all that. I’m sure she would’ve said I was off-key in that last hymn, but we can hope I did her justice.”
As Moses’s arm tightens around my shoulders, I smile. “I didn’t notice at all. It was beautiful. Besides, Bernie would’ve been thrilled because I didn’t turn this into a jazz funeral. We truly appreciate everything.”
“Oh, so the brass quartet I saw walking up just a minute ago isn’t for Bernie?” he asks.
I spin around and spot the men standing with their instruments. Norma grins as she walks away from them and toward us and the pastor.
“Norma . . . what did you do?”
The older woman’s smirk widens into a grin. “She can’t tell me no, now. It’s just one song. I think we could all use some joy in our hearts today.”
Moses pulls me back against his chest as they start off with a dirge that turns upbeat as we follow them through the cemetery. By the time they finish that one very long song, everyone in the cemetery is clapping their hands and praising Jesus.
Including one person I do not want to see at all, especially here and now.
Thirty-Three
Magnolia
I stiffen as the brass players lower their instruments, and instantly, Moses is on guard.
“What? What is it?”
I turn slightly and gesture toward the men. “Cavender’s here. And the guy with him . . . I’ve seen him before. Who the hell is he?”
Moses scans the cemetery, and I see the exact moment he spots the cop next to a tall blond guy who doesn’t fit the mold of NOPD at all. Too fit and good looking.
“Where’d you see him before? Tailing you?”
I shake my head. “No. But . . . I swear I recognize him from somewhere . . .” I pause as it hits me, and I spin to face Moses completely. I don’t need them seeing the shock on my face. “In the Quarter. By my new house. He said he was a new neighbor. Needed direction to a café. He’s a cop too, isn’t he?”
Moses looks over my shoulder at where they’re standing, positioning themselves between us and the SUVs. “Whatever Cavender is after, he must be really sure of himself to show up here.”
“We can’t avoid him, can we?” I ask, hoping like hell Moses will say we absolutely can avoid them, but knowing he won’t.
“As much as I’d love to tell you yes and that you don’t have to talk to that asshole ever again, we probably don’t have a choice.”
“Problem?” Mount stops next to us, and instead of looking at me, he follows Moses’s stare to the two men.
“Not a problem. Annoying inconvenience is all,” Moses says in reply.
Mount’s attention flickers from one man to the other. “Cops. I’ll have security escort them out. This is private property.”
A voice pops into my head, and I swear Ho-It-All is channeling Bernie herself. “No scenes at my funeral, Magnolia. You don’t have a reason to be running from the law, do you?”
It’s probably a good thing she isn’t here to hear me answer the question with a big fat yes. Because I killed a man while defending myself. Because his brother is after me. Because the cop would like nothing more than to pin that and a few other murders on me.
“Then you should’ve told the truth up front,” the ghost of Bernie argues.
“We can have the cars pick us up at the other entrance,” Moses says. “There’s no reason we need to do this today.”
“No. Let’s get it over with. I don’t want him to assume I’m running from him. It’ll only make me appear guilty. And I sure as hell want to know who the other guy is, and how the hell he knew to be snooping around my new house.”
“That’s your choice then. Keira and I will be in the car,” Mount says before sweeping my best friend away.
We watch
them both walk right by the cop, and Cavender stares at Mount like he’d love to be the one to put him away. But Mount’s untouchable, even for Cavender.
Me, not so much.
Cavender looks cockier with each step we take toward him and the blond guy. All-American. That’s what I nicknamed him that day. What the hell is he doing here?
“Mr. Gaspard. Ms. Maison. You two are remarkably hard to track down lately.”
“You realize we’re here for a funeral, right?” Moses asks with unveiled irritation. “A solemn occasion.”
Cavender shrugs. “You don’t return my calls, and neither of you seem to be anywhere we look. So I had to do what I had to do.” He stares at me. “Our sympathies for the loss of your great-aunt, Ms. Maison.”
“Who the hell are you?” I ask the blond guy. “Because you’re not here looking for directions to another café, are you?”
“Agent Pomeroy. FBI.” He pulls his credentials from his pocket and flips them open.
FBI. Jesus Christ. The Feds were watching me too?
Even though my brain is going crazy, I manage to keep my expression passive. It doesn’t hurt that I’ve cried out all the feelings in me, leaving nothing but emptiness behind for this encounter.
“What the hell does the FBI want?” Moses asks.
Cavender smiles triumphantly, and I swear I wouldn’t stop if I accidentally ran the man over in a parking lot right now. So sue me.
“Well, we’ve been working with the Bureau on some overlapping areas of interest. Specifically, Desiree Harding’s murder, the death of another female, and the murder of the man in Ms. Maison’s former residence. Who, by the way, we seem to be having trouble identifying conclusively. A whole lot of things aren’t adding up.”