by Robin Caroll
Marcel hung up his phone, then lifted it again and punched numbers.
“Sorry, Detective. I’m not finding anything on Kevin Muller.”
“He wasn’t even a student?” All the records indicated he’d attended the school.
“I can only run a check on a name of someone who interacted with the university police in some way: complainant, suspect, witness, or the like. For enrollment, I’d suggest you check with the National College Clearinghouse. It’d be the quickest way and the path of least resistance.”
Marcel slid a note in front of him that read: Brayden Colton doesn’t exist. No SSN, no place of employment, no driver’s license or state ID in any state.
How in the world could someone have a DNA profile in the system but not exist?
Beau locked stares with his partner who shrugged.
They’d have to figure it out. After his phone call. Beau went back to focusing on the man on the phone. “I understand. So Muller never had any interaction with your department?”
“I have no record over the past twenty years.”
Hard to believe, considering how Muller treated women. Most of those types had been acting the same way for years. “Okay, next name. What about a Jada Aubois?” He spelled the last name for Captain O’Reilly.
“Yes, I have her in the system.”
Beau sat up straight and grabbed his pen. “You do? Can you give me details?”
“Normally I couldn’t, but since my records show the student is deceased, I guess that means it’s not an invasion of her privacy.”
“Very true.”
“She filed a sexual assault claim.”
A sexual assault? That could definitely make a young woman suicidal. “Do you have a date she filed the complaint?” Beau jotted it down, making a note that it was less than a month before she killed herself. “Can you give me the details?”
“She claimed an upperclassman or someone older had met her in one of the student centers. She saw him there several times. According to her statement, one night it was raining and he offered to give her a ride back to her dorm. She agreed and got into the car with him. Her report says she was a little unclear what exactly happened next because she thought she was drugged—so her memory was foggy—but she knew that he raped her. She said she passed out, but woke up in her dorm the next morning.”
How awful. Of course, Beau had worked in the sexual crimes unit before he made detective as part of his training, and the only things worse were crimes against children. “Do you have the investigation notes?”
“Just that the officer who took her statement referred her to the local hospital and the Natchitoches Police Department.”
Beau dropped the pen and balled his hand into a fist. It was just that type of treatment that caused women not to come forward and report sexual assaults. “Did she happen to name her attacker?”
“She did.” There was a pause. “I really want to help you, but I’m not sure I can give you this information, Detective. While she is deceased, I have no such indication on him. He could be entirely innocent.”
“I could get a warrant for the information, Captain, but since we’re both on the same side here, I’m asking you to help me cut through the red tape. You know how it is when you’re working a case.”
Beau grabbed his pen. He needed this to work—because who knew if he could actually get a warrant when there really wasn’t a viable connection to investigate?
“I do understand. I guess we brothers in blue have to stick together.”
Beau refrained from commenting.
O’Reilly continued. “In her report, she named a Brayden Colton as her attacker.”
Beau couldn’t breathe. The man who assaulted Jada Aubois was the same man with a DNA profile in the system who didn’t exist? This was unreal.
Beau snapped his fingers to get Marcel’s attention. “Could you please run his name, Brayden Colton, through your system and see if you get any other matches?” He turned his notebook so Marcel could read his notes.
“He’s here on the Aubois case.”
“That’s it?”
“No, wait. There’s one more. Hang on, it’s not linked, so I have to enter the case number manually.” Clicks came over the line.
“Can you believe this?” Beau whispered to his partner.
Marcel slowly shook his head. “This is getting freakier by the minute.”
The captain came back on the line. “There, I found it.”
Beau turned his notebook back around and grabbed his pen. “Go ahead.”
“It looks like another sexual assault complaint, but the gal who filled it out later requested it be removed from records.”
Probably got the same treatment: go to the hospital and the city police, the university police can’t be bothered.
The captain continued. “We removed most of the complaint details as per her request, but we still had to document that a complaint had been made and withdrawn.”
“That’s why the record wasn’t linked.”
“Same scenario?”
“Basically. This one reported she’d met him at one of the coffeehouses on campus and had seen him there a couple of times before she got in the car with him. She reported he took her off campus and raped her. She also claimed to have been drugged when she woke up in her bed the next morning.”
A sexual predator on the loose, and the university police did nothing.
“This is dated some time before Jada Aubois’s statement.”
Maybe long enough ago that the victim would talk to him. There had to be a connection between Muller, Jada, and now this Brayden Colton. Maybe this victim could put the pieces together for them.
“Can you tell me her name?” Beau held his pen over the notebook.
“Adelaide Fountaine.”
Dimitri
“Thanks for coming. I appreciate it.” Dimitri led Lissette past the lobby and to his personal office.
“Of course. Thank you for inviting me. I was a little surprised when you called.”
He opened the door and motioned her to the couch. He sat at the other end, twisting to face her. “I told you when I left your home yesterday that I would look into my father’s things and see if I could find anything about your mother.”
She inched to the edge of the couch. “Did you? Find anything, I mean?”
He smiled, appreciating her obvious excitement. “I did. I found records of her employment here for over fifteen years, as well as reservations here for you and her.”
“See, I told you the truth.”
“I never doubted you, only what you were doing to me.”
She had the decency to blush. “I explained that I wanted you to be on my side when I demand Claude provide me with an inheritance that’s rightly mine.”
“I understand, and for the record, I agree. You didn’t need to try to use any force to get me to agree. I stand for what’s right.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you. Didn’t know what kind of man you were. For all I knew, you were just like your father.”
“Bite your tongue.” Yet he smiled. He truly did enjoy her company. “But if you are to be able to convince Father of anything, you’ll need facts, not dead chickens.”
“Facts?”
He nodded. “While your eyes make it pretty obvious that you are his daughter, he’ll demand scientific proof.”
“Like a DNA test?”
“Exactly like that.” He pulled out a plastic vial from his pocket. “I had a friend collect saliva samples from Father’s toothbrush. We can do a swab of the cheek of your mouth and send it off for testing.”
Her eyes widened and she nodded. “Yes. Whatever it takes.”
Carefully, he broke the seal of the other vial and swabbed the inside of her cheek, just like the nurse he’d gotten the kit from had shown him. He put it all just the way she’d instructed. “There, all done. We should get results within the week.” Because he’d promised a nice cash bonus if the lab work could be rushed.
“Okay. So what else?”
“I’ve asked the company’s accountant to prepare a report for me of our financial standing for the past twenty-three years. Your mother was owed compensation from the time she conceived you. The only way we can legally count that is to see what Father was worth then, and every year since.”
Lissette frowned. “Won’t he tell your father?”
“Perhaps, but I requested the report under the guise of getting a large scope of the entire business. Father should be pleased because he’s been demanding for years that I prepare to take over this hotel so he can retire. If he questions my request, that’s what I’ll tell him.”
“Smart.”
“Lissette, it’s critical that we not tip our hand before we have all our ducks in a row. If Father learns about you before we have proof that he’s your father, he will utilize every resource at his disposal to disclaim you before you even have a chance to confront him.”
“A DNA test doesn’t lie.”
“No, but lab technicians can be paid enough to lie for him.”
“Seriously?”
He nodded. “Do you put anything past him?”
“No.”
A soft knock sounded before his door creaked open and Adelaide stuck her head inside. “Dimitri—” She spied Lissette. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you weren’t alone. I’ll get with you later.”
He stood. “No, Adelaide, come on in. I’d like you to meet someone.”
Adelaide crossed the room, smiling.
Lissette’s face wore worry like a comfortable sweatshirt as she stood and faced Adelaide. She looked even younger next to Adelaide’s poise.
“It’s okay. I trust her,” he told Lissette before turning back to Adelaide. “I’d like you to meet Lissette Bastien, my little sister.”
Twenty-Two
Adelaide
“Are you free for lunch?” Beau stood in her office doorway, holding a large paper sack.
Adelaide checked her watch: 12:42 p.m. “I guess it is about that time. What did you have in mind?”
He held up the bag. “Barbecue shrimp and grits from the Ruby Slipper.”
Her mouth watered on cue. “Come on.” She pushed open her office door and tossed her files on the desk before moving to the settee in the corner. She opened the mini-fridge and pulled out two waters, handing Beau one before sitting across from him.
The enticing scent of the food he set before her made her stomach growl. She grinned. “If this is an apology for the way you questioned Geoff, I accept.”
“It is, and it isn’t.”
She opened the take-out container and inhaled. The sautéed Gulf shrimp floated in a scrumptious rosemary and amber beer reduction alongside stone-ground grits that were so creamy, the meal was slap-your-momma good. She popped one of the shrimp in her mouth and her taste buds exploded in pure delight. She chewed slowly, savoring every morsel.
Only after she’d swallowed and had taken a long drink of water did she realize Beau hadn’t even opened his container.
She swiped her mouth with the paper napkin. “Okay, go ahead and say what you need to say before you ruin an excellent meal.”
“There’s been a new development in the case.”
Adelaide balled the paper napkin in her fist. “Oh?” She took another drink from the water bottle.
Beau’s facial features were stones. “We’ve found a link between Muller and Geoff’s little sister.”
She crossed her hands and rested them in her lap, even as her heart beat double time. How much did he know?
“Despite what your chief of security failed to tell us, we have a pretty good idea of why Jada Aubois committed suicide.”
“Which is?” Adelaide struggled to keep her voice even. Her worst nightmare raised its ugly head and bared its teeth.
“Weeks before she died, she filed sexual assault charges with Northwestern’s university police against a man named Brayden Colton.”
Adelaide’s heart free-fell to her toes as her face heated to almost burning.
“I see you understand where I’m going.”
Her breathing became labored. Nausea threatened to reject the spicy bite she’d ingested moments before.
“Addy, I know you filed a complaint on him too, then asked for the report to be taken back. Why?”
Tears filled her eyes. No sense evading any longer, the truth had demanded exposure. “Because I was stupid. And scared. And I’d messed everything up.” The words fell over themselves as she let it all out: meeting him in the coffeehouse, going with him, the attack, the next morning, and the university police’s attitude of indifference. “I didn’t know better. I just knew I couldn’t stay there right then. So I came home and licked my wounds. I can’t believe they didn’t pull the entire report as I asked!
“In his belongings, where we found Jada’s obituary, there was a jotted poem. When I read it, the emotions felt so familiar, yet I couldn’t place them.” Beau let out a low breath. “It was yours, wasn’t it?”
“Probably.” She grabbed another paper napkin and dabbed under her eyes. Her makeup left streaks on the napkin. “Once I came home, Tracey made me see a therapist to work through my emotions. I did, and it helped. It really did. I was able to return the next semester without anyone being any wiser. That chapter of my life was over.”
Beau shook his head. “I have no memory of any big change then. I remember you coming home for the semester. Your dad seemed so happy to have you home. I guess now I know he was relieved you were okay.”
“No. I never told Daddy. He thought I was just taking some time off to adjust to college life. He still doesn’t know.”
“You never told him?”
“Don’t sound so incredulous, Beau. I was nineteen years old. I was Daddy’s world. It would have killed him to see me as damaged. After what we went through with Mom—the hospital stays, the denial of being listed on the national transplant registry, his pain of his not being a match, her tormented death . . .” Adelaide swallowed back the painful memories. “There was no way I could hurt him by telling him what happened to me.”
Beau remained silent for a moment. “I can see that. But why didn’t you tell me? I’ve always been . . . we’ve been friends since we were little kids.”
“I know.” She swallowed, deciding to go ahead and get it all out. “I hadn’t wanted to tell anyone, but you know Trace, she wouldn’t let it go. I had to tell her. She went ballistic. Demanded I tell Daddy. Go to the police. Hunt him down.” She shook her head, remembering the fire in her best friend’s eyes. “In the end, she agreed to keep it a secret as long as I went to a therapist.”
“But I’ve been your friend just as long as Tracey. You couldn’t tell me?”
The pain and pity in his eyes broke her heart. “I didn’t want you to look at me with the pity I see in your eyes now. I didn’t want you to see me as damaged either. I couldn’t take that.”
“I could never see you as damaged.” Beau’s voice was as soft as his gaze.
Her heart seized. “You can say that now, but back then?” She shook her head. “I felt broken and damaged. I was so demoralized, felt so violated. I can’t even explain how I felt.” She blinked back the tears. “And if Geoff’s little sister went through that . . .” Adelaide couldn’t even begin to comprehend how she would’ve reacted.
“You can understand why she committed suicide.” Beau spoke in barely a whisper.
“I can. It wasn’t an option for me, but I can understand her feelings of unworthiness, of hopelessness, of desperation.” If she hadn’t had Tracey to push her to get counseling and be her support system, who knows what options she might have considered.
“I’m so sorry. I wish I would have known. I would have been there for you.”
She could read the regret on his face like yesterday’s headlines. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I couldn’t back then. I could barely function through my own emotions, much less figure ou
t how to share them with people I cared about.”
“And now? You couldn’t tell me now?”
“I had never known him by any other name than Brayden Colton. Kevin Muller meant nothing to me.”
“Wait. What?”
“I didn’t know Brayden had given me a false name. I only realized who Kevin Muller was when I saw him on the video Geoff showed you.”
“You’re saying Kevin Muller and Brayden Colton are one and the same?”
“Of course. Isn’t that what you needed me to confirm?” She studied his face. “You didn’t know that yet, did you?”
“I knew there was some connection, but to hear you verify that—”
She reached across the little table and grabbed Beau’s hand. “I promise you, Beau, I had no idea that Kevin Muller was Brayden Colton. Everything I knew from back then was Brayden, and I had no idea who Kevin was, even after he was murdered.”
Her words raced to keep up with her heartbeat. “I know I had every reason to kill him and I did know about the passages and my prints were on the knife, but I give you my word, I had nothing to do with his murder.”
“I believe you. I’m trying to figure everything out.”
She pulled her hand back and took a shaky sip of water. He could easily charge her with murder. She had means, and opportunity, and now documented motive. A really good motive. Even though he had seen her late Thursday night and had been a form of alibi for her in regards to her prints, with this new information he could surmise that she would have had enough time to stab Muller, then leave through the passage and run up to her room for a quick change before meeting him in Jackson Square.
“I’ll talk with Marcel and see what we can come up with.”
“So Marcel is going to know about what happened to me?” Her throat tightened.
Beau nodded. “It will be in the case notes.”
She wanted to throw up. “You can’t keep that out?”
“I’m sorry, Addy, but no. This is a homicide investigation and omission isn’t possible. Especially when the information wasn’t provided to us.”
“I already said I was sorry.” Marcel would know. Then more in the department. It was only a matter of time before people outside of the police knew about her past.
