Darkwater Secrets

by Robin Caroll

  “I won’t.” She smiled.

  “Good.” Tracey stood back and stared at her. “It’s good, but it’s missing something.” She tapped the tip of her nose. “Pearls.”

  “Pearls?”

  Tracey ran back to the bed and grabbed her bag and rummaged through it. “Yes, pearls.” Triumphant, she held up a string of little fashion pearls.

  “I thought you brought that big fake ruby necklace for me to wear with the dress.”

  “Yes, silly. These are going in your hair.”

  “Um, okay.”

  Minutes and a couple of hard pulls and scalp scrapes with bobby pins later, Tracey turned her to the mirror. “Ta-­da!”

  Adelaide stared. A single braid lined her face, about an inch or two from her face, ear-­to-­ear, with the bulk of her hair hanging in ringlets down her back. The pearls were woven into the braid, looking both natural and sophisticated at the same time.

  “Wow, you should’ve been a hairdresser.”

  “Wait ’til you see what you look like after I do your makeup.” Tracey laughed. “You know I always wanted a living doll.”

  “And to think I managed to escape your clutches in school when you were still perfecting your trade.”

  “Shh. Don’t tell anyone about those days.” Tracey reached for the hairspray. “I am going to set this before I start your makeup.”

  Adelaide closed her eyes. “Go for it.”

  After the cloud of hairspray finally cleared, Tracey applied Adelaide’s makeup. Heavier than Adelaide usually wore, but masterfully applied so she looked beautiful, even if she did think so herself.

  “Thanks, Trace. I needed to feel special. You always seem to know how to do that.”

  “Don’t you dare cry, Ads. I’ll kill you if you mess up that eyeliner!” She grinned. “But I do love you, and I’ll always have your back. No matter what.” She clapped her hands loudly. “Now, let me get myself ready, and we can put on our party dresses and paint the town red!”

  Before Adelaide could reply, Tracey snapped her fingers. “You know what we need up in here? Some tunes!” She grabbed her cell and opened her playlist. “Here we go.”

  Familiar notes of a popular zydeco band belted out from the speakers. Both Tracey and Adelaide danced around the dressing area. Tracey grabbed a roller brush for them to use as a microphone as they sang.

  Adelaide savored the moment. Almost like she was back in high school getting ready for homecoming or prom. Excited and unencumbered by memories of pain and shame. Tonight, she was young and free and happy.

  All very hard earned.

  Dimitri

  “I can’t believe I’m actually going to a Mardi Gras ball. Are you sure I look okay?” Lissette sat in the front seat of Dimitri’s car, smoothing her dress while checking her reflection in the lighted visor mirror.

  “You look lovely.” Dimitri smiled as he drove. He’d made sure his assistant sent over a proper dress and mask for his sister to wear to her first ball.

  “Tell me again what’ll happen.” She practically bounced in her seat.

  “Once everyone has arrived, the hosting krewe will introduce its court, saving the king and queen for last.”

  “And once they’re introduced, then the dancing begins, right?”

  He nodded. “Right.”

  “I told you I can’t dance well, right?”

  “I’ve prepared my toes to be stepped on.” He chuckled. “You’ll be fine, Lissette. You look beautiful and you’ll be graceful. Just enjoy yourself.”

  “I’ve never attended a ball. I mean, I always wanted to, but I was never invited.” The wistful look on her face twisted Dimitri’s heart. He made a mental note to ask his assistant to have the Pampalon family join one of the krewes for next year.

  They pulled up to the estate hosting the krewe’s ball. Many of the older, established families opened their homes to host balls during the season. Dimitri figured it was just a way to show off their status, but regardless, it was what it was. Tonight’s ostentatious display of wealth was courtesy of Malcolm Dessommes, the most eligible bachelor in New Orleans. The Dessommes family was old money, older than the Pampalons even. Dimitri had been pitted against Malcolm many times during school, which should have made the two of them enemies but hadn’t. Neither wanted to compete on the level that their fathers demanded, and that made the two instant and fast friends.

  Lissette nearly burst out of the car when the attendant opened her door. The deep emerald dress shimmered, a fine contrast to her dark hair and mesmerizing eyes. Dimitri would have to watch her tonight with all the suitors sure to come out of the woodwork when they caught sight of her.

  The wide set of concrete stairs up to the twelve foot front door were lit with little white lights. All the shrubs and the trees wore them as well. Gas lamps flickered along the walkway, decorated with streamers of green, purple, and gold. By all appearances, Malcolm had spared no expense with the decorating company. Dimitri was sure the feast would be just as ample and sumptuous.

  He secured his black mask over his eyes before offering his arm to her, then escorted her inside, allowing the mock jester to announce them as Lady Lissette Bastien escorted by her brother, Sir Dimitri Pampalon.

  A collective gasp reverberated against the walls of the main room as Dimitri led Lissette down the interior staircase.

  “Why are people staring?” she whispered.

  “For one, you’re quite lovely.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Truth.”

  “Because no one knows I have a sister.”

  She grinned. “They do now.”

  He nodded. “So they do.”

  They’d barely made it off the stairs when Dimitri felt the clap on his back. “My friend, what have you been up to?”

  Dimitri smiled and turned. “Just keeping it real. How about you?”

  Malcolm took a sip of champagne and stared at Lissette over the rim of the glass. “And did I hear the jester correctly that this lovely vision is your sister?”

  He grinned. “Allow me to introduce you. Lissette Bastien, this is our host for the evening, Malcom Dessommes. Malcom, this is my younger sister, Lissette.”

  Malcom bowed low before offering his arm to Lissette. “My dear, you simply must come with me and tell me the details of your relations with my friend.”

  She looked at Dimitri, practically glowing.

  “You take care of her, Malcom,” Dimitri said with a wink at Lissette, who took Malcom’s arm.

  “But of course, my friend.” Malcolm led Lissette toward the food tables. Dimitri knew he would watch out for her too, or he’d have to answer to Dimitri.

  The jester continued to introduce guests. Dimitri checked his watch. In less than fifteen minutes, the krewe would begin introducing the court, and the dancing would start. He’d promised Lissette the first dance.

  He wove his way to the bar and grabbed a sparkling water. Leaning against the railing, he watched the people mill about. Many were familiar, but some wore their masks and were hard to recognize. Dimitri shook hands with several business owners and accepted hugs from their wives or girlfriends.

  “Hello, Dimitri.”

  He turned, smiling. “Hello, Elise. Don’t you look lovely!”

  She smiled and ducked her head. “Thank you. You look handsome as well.”

  “Would you like a sparkling water?”

  “No, thank you. Lucien is getting our drinks.”

  Ah, now that he thought about it, he realized a ball wouldn’t be a place the young Elise would normally attend. “Lucien?”

  She tilted her head to the young man grabbing two champagne flutes from the server’s tray. “My date for the evening.”

  The man made his way to them, thrusting a flute at Elise. “Who are you?” he asked Dimitri.

  Dimitri snorted at the young man’s rudeness, but kept his eye on Elise. “I’m Dimitri Pampalon, a friend of Elise’s family.” He stared at Elise, then at the glass, then at young Lucien.


  “Oh, well, nice to meet you.” Lucien took Elise by the arm. “Come on, Niall and Sondra are saving us seats on the balcony.”

  “You take care,” Dimitri told Elise, watching her walk away.

  He made a mental note to check on her in an hour or so and make sure she was okay and still sober. Tilda would have his hide if he knew Elise was drinking and didn’t watch over her.

  The jester beat his stick on the marble floor twice and announced, “Lady Tracey Glapion and Lady Adelaide Fountaine.”

  Dimitri turned and almost choked on his sparkling water. He couldn’t take his eyes off Adelaide as she floated down the stairs. His mouth went dry. As he came to his senses and glanced around, he realized that the women seemed to have the same effect on most of the men watching them enter.

  Dimitri made his way to offer his arm to them as they descended. “Ladies.”

  “Hello, Dimitri. You remember my friend Tracey?”

  He offered his other arm to Tracey. “I do. Both of you ladies look absolutely stunning this evening.”

  He spoke to them both as he led them toward the spread of food, but his heart pounded as Adelaide smiled at him. As beautiful as she looked right now, it was hard for him to remember she wasn’t ready for romance. He’d agreed to wait, but the way she looked . . . his work was certainly cut out for him.

  “I see a friend I need to speak with before they introduce the court,” Tracey said with a nod toward a masked man in the corner. “I’ll find you soon,” she said to Adelaide before heading off with a swish of her skirt.

  “Adelaide, I have to say, you look more beautiful than ever tonight. That dress, even that mask—”

  She giggled. “It’s all on loan from Trace. We figured we deserved a night out on the town. It’s been a long time since we were able to have a girls’ night.”

  “You do deserve a beautiful night. I do hope that you’ll save me a dance?” He’d promised to be patient, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t stay in the game.

  She blushed along the bottom edge of her mask. “Of course. I’d love that.”

  Maybe this would be their new normal. Flirting, smiling, sharing, and staying friends until she was ready for more. As long as he could hold her in his arms on occasion, like he’d get to do later tonight for a dance—maybe two—he’d be okay.

  They would be okay. And for now, that was enough.

  Thirty-­One

  Beau

  He kind of hated these things, yet every year he went because when you wanted to make an impression with the political side of the New Orleans Police Department, you went to at least a couple of the Mardi Gras balls you were invited to. He’d be back at work next week, and he’d meet with the captain regarding his promotion.

  Beau wanted it badly.

  So he put on his fresh-­from-­the-­cleaners tux, dusted off the Phantom of the Opera mask he always wore, and made his way to the Garden District to attend a Mardi Gras ball he really cared nothing about. He couldn’t even remember which krewe this ball was for.

  The attendant who parked his car looked offended at having to get behind the wheel of a regular Dodge. Like he was insulted the Charger wasn’t a Benz or Cadillac. Beau didn’t really care. He’d put in an hour or so, make sure he saw the mayor, then make a quick getaway.

  He waited in line behind a couple who clearly were attending for the first time. She fidgeted, he kept patting her hand to calm her. New money.

  The jester announced them, then took Beau’s invitation. He pounded his baton on the floor twice before announcing, “Detective Beauregard Savoie.”

  Beau descended the stairs quickly. It was all pomp anyway, but the food was usually worth the trip. Last year, fresh oysters and shrimp overflowed from the tables at almost all the balls, each host hiring the best chefs for preparation and display. Every host wanted their tables to be the best, the most remembered and talked about.

  Beau spied the tables and made his way to the food. The one good thing about the overabundance was that the city’s homeless kitchens were kept supplied during the carnival season. It made him feel less guilty about attending.

  He reached for a plate, then froze as a vision moved in the corner of his eye. Even though she wore a mask, there was no mistaking her.

  Addy.

  She wore a red dress with black that fit her like a glove, outlining every curve. The neckline plunged, and he meant plunged. Her hair glittered and glistened. From behind the mask, her eyes shone like diamonds, or like the ruby hanging around her neck.

  A man stood beside her, talking to her, and in that moment, Beau had never wanted to rip another person’s throat out as badly. Unless it had been Kevin Muller. The man turned . . . Dimitri. Beau’s insides seized as he forced himself to cross the few feet between them.

  “Hello, Addy.”

  Her smile lit up her eyes peering from behind the extravagant mask. “Hi, Beau. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  He couldn’t stop his gaze from traveling back to Dimitri. “Apparently.”

  Her eyes clouded for a moment. “What?”

  No, he wouldn’t be that guy. He grinned. “Nothing. You look exquisite.”

  She twirled. “You like? Tracey did it.”

  Dimitri held out his hand. “Detective.”

  Beau shook it. “Pampalon.”

  “You can call me Dimitri, you know.”

  “Yeah.” He resisted the urge to wipe his hand on his pants leg, having a strong feeling Addy wouldn’t be amused.

  Had she come with Pampalon? Every muscle in Beau’s body went rigid at the thought. Surely not.

  “Where’s Marcel?” she asked.

  “Oh, he skips these shindigs. He’s not yet on the promotion ladder where seeing and being seen is important.”

  “Oh, but you are a sight for sore eyes.” Tracey strode to the group and gave him a gentle hug. “How’re you feeling?”

  “Quite well, actually.” Beau studied her. “You are a vision.”

  Tracey struck a pose, grinning.

  “Where’s Chuck tonight?”

  “Working, as usual, so Ads agreed to be my date.” She looped her arm through Addy’s.

  Addy tilted her head toward Tracey. “Some date. She brings me, then runs off to talk to someone else.”

  “But I love you more than my luggage.” Tracey tugged on Addy’s arm. “We need food.” She glanced between Dimitri and Beau. “Hmm. Could you gentlemen please grab us a couple of bottled waters?” Without waiting for a reply, Tracey dragged Addy to the tables of food.

  Even though the main floor of the estate was spacious and flowing, the room felt small and stuffy as Beau and Dimitri stared at one another. Without a word being exchanged, Beau knew Dimitri was attracted to Addy, and he was pretty sure Dimitri knew he was as well.

  “There you are.” A young woman appeared at Dimitri’s side. “I thought I’d lost you.”

  Dimitri had a date? Maybe Beau had been wrong about his interest in Addy.

  “Lissette Bastien, meet Detective Beau Savoie.”

  She smiled. “Hello.”

  “Detective, this is my sister, Lissette.”

  It took a minute for the words to register in Beau’s head. Sister?

  Dimitri nodded. “She’ll be working at the Darkwater Inn with Adelaide and me.”

  So, he’d been right about Dimitri’s interest in Addy. Beau cleared his throat. “I’ll grab the ladies’ water while you tend to your sister.” He didn’t wait for an answer before heading to the bar, grabbing two bottles, then heading over to the small table Tracey and Addy had chosen.

  “Where’s Dimitri?” Tracey asked, but her eyes locked with Beau’s, and he saw the real questions lurking there she dared not ask in front of Addy.

  “He’s seeing to his sister.”

  “I don’t trust that girl.” Tracey glanced over her shoulder at them. “You be careful of her, Ads.”

  “We’ve had this conversation already, Trace. No more seriousness
tonight. I want to have fun.”

  “You got it, sistah!”

  The krewe began to make its court introductions. Tracey stood and looked at Beau and Addy. “I’m going to go watch the grand march. Either of you want to come?”

  They both shook their heads. Tracey winked at Beau, then was gone.

  He always did like Tracey.

  He leaned close to Addy’s ear. “I meant what I said, you do look breathtaking.”

  Addy smiled and lowered her chin, the blush spreading across her cheeks visible under the mask.

  The music started, and groups of people made their way toward the dance floor.

  Beau wanted nothing more than to have Addy in his arms again. He stood and made a sweeping bow, then extended his hand to her. “Shall we, milady?”

  She took his hand, grinning.

  Once he had her in his arms, they swayed in time to the music from the live band. The space on the floor became more crowded, so he pulled her closer to him.

  “Your dad dropped by to check on me.”

  “What did he have to say now?”

  He chuckled. She knew her dad well. “He invited me to Thursday supper.”

  She shook her head. “That man is incorrigible.”

  He hadn’t considered that she might not want him there. Fear prompted him to speak. “But if you don’t want me to go, I won’t. And I won’t be offended.”

  Addy shook her head. “Don’t be silly. It’s just he can be so obvious sometimes—” She stopped moving to the music and stared at him with wide eyes. “You didn’t tell him about our, um, kiss did you?”

  “Of course not.” It hurt a little that she thought he might.

  She began dancing again. “Good. I mean, it’s none of his business.”

  He wouldn’t lie to her, though. No more secrets between them. They’d promised. “But he knows how I feel about you.”

  Her steps faltered. “You told him?”

  Beau tightened his hold on her waist. “He asked. I didn’t lie.”

  “Oh.” She stared at Beau’s chest.

  “Addy, look at me.”

  She lifted her gaze.

  “It doesn’t matter. What matters is your happiness. You know how I feel about you, at least I think you do, but you are in charge of our relationship, whatever that means. Friends, more, whatever. It’s all in your hands and in your timing. No matter what I or your dad or Tracey or anybody else thinks. Okay?”