“A girl,” Tinkie said with such a rush of emotion that I felt a stab of pain. I hadn’t realized how much Tinkie wanted a child.
“She’s swinging . . . in a garden.”
“I have a garden with a swing,” Tinkie said. “Is she alone? Are there other children?”
Gwendolyn’s face had gone strangely slack. She squeezed Tinkie’s hand and released it. “There is only the one child.” She hesitated. “Sometimes decisions can’t be undone,” she said gently.
“What?” Tinkie said, paling. “What are you saying?”
“Only that we all make choices and take certain paths. Sometimes we can’t go back and take a different path.”
I looked from one to the other. I had no clue what Gwendolyn was talking about, but whatever it was, she was upsetting Tinkie. My friend dashed tears from her face with angry fists.
“Why are you saying this?”
“I can only tell you what I see,” Gwendolyn said. “Your child is alone, but she isn’t unhappy. She says to tell you that she understands.”
Tinkie stood up so fast that she knocked the psychic’s small table over. “I don’t know who you are, but you’re a very cruel woman.”
“No, I’m not,” Gwendolyn said. “Think back on this and remember. She understood.”
Tinkie slammed out of the small room, with me hot on her heels. I caught up with her on the street and withdrew the hand I’d lifted to grasp her shoulder. One look at her face told me to stow my questions.
It took her eight blocks in high heels before she’d slow enough for me to catch my breath. “You were right, Sarah Booth. We shouldn’t have gone there,” she said. “Don’t ever mention it to me again. I’m going back to the hotel to take a nap unless you need me to do something.”
HAMILTON WASN’T AT his apartment or answering his cell phone, and I was left with the ugly reality that LeMont had to be dealt with. It was time to fish or cut bait. As soon as I thought the phrase, I cringed. I was becoming some kind of adage addict. I couldn’t go half an hour without spouting—or thinking—some old truism.
LeMont answered my call on the second ring.
“I’ll meet you at Napoleon’s, as long as you’re buying,” he said.
“Whatever.” I still wasn’t certain how to play LeMont. He was the joker in the deck. Was he a legitimate police detective or a henchman for the Clays? I didn’t know what to make of him, and he wasn’t an easy man to read.
The restaurant he’d chosen was as old as anything in the city; Napoleon Bonaparte had once dined there, or at least ordered out. Since I arrived first, I chose the darkest corner and waited. LeMont breezed through the door and I caught a glimpse of how handsome he could be if he allowed it.
I motioned him back to the corner. “We need to talk,” he said as he waved the waiter over and gave his drink order.
I wasn’t going to argue with that.
“I’m a good detective. I do my job and I do it properly.”
Now that was a debatable point, but I didn’t say anything.
“My father worked for Henri Boudet. They grew up in the swamps together. Dad was killed when I was fourteen. Mr. Boudet sent money to my mother every week so my family could survive. There were ten of us kids. He put six of us through college, including me.”
I hadn’t known for certain what the connection between LeMont and Ellisea was, but I hadn’t expected this heart-tugging confession of the good deeds of Henri Boudet. “I have to tell you, LeMont, that may be the only good thing I’ve ever heard about Boudet.”
He took the drink the waiter deposited in front of him and swallowed half of it. “He’s a bad man. And a powerful one. When he whispers, every politician in this town bends down to listen. But he isn’t totally evil. He was good to me and my family.”
“So you owe Henri Boudet?”
LeMont shook his head. “I don’t owe Henri anything. I don’t. And I made that clear to him. But he asked me to look out for Ellisea, as a favor. That I do. I try to keep her safe and out of trouble.”
“Sounds like a full-time job.”
“It can be. Ellisea is self-destructive. She’s . . . dangerous, but mostly to herself.”
“Tell that to Cece.”
“Your friend provoked her. Once provoked, Ellisea is like a snake. She doesn’t care who she bites, she just strikes.”
“How far would you go to protect Ellisea?”
The question pissed him off, but he checked his temper. “Not far enough to jeopardize a case, if that’s what you’re thinking. I try to keep Ellisea’s name out of the paper when she gets in scrapes. When the senator’s out of town, I sometimes tail her to make sure she’s safe. That’s as far as it goes.”
He sounded so sincere. But Ted Bundy must have seemed like a nice guy to the girls he picked up—until he killed them.
“Is Ellisea capable of killing a baby if she thought it might jeopardize her husband’s career?”
He finished his drink. “Yes, she’s capable of that. But she didn’t do it. The senator isn’t the father. The DNA tests came back. None of those men are the father.”
29
DOREEN WASN’T AT THE CENTER AND SHE WASN’T AT HER HOME. But Starla was there, and I accepted the cup of hot tea she offered as I sat shivering in the failing light of the courtyard. I had time to kill until I could find Doreen and wring her neck.
“I’ve gone over and over this whole thing,” Starla said. “I just can’t make sense of any of it.”
She didn’t know the half of it. “I wish I could say that I had some solid leads.” With paternity ruled out as a motive, I didn’t even have a suspect.
“If Doreen had wanted to kill Rebekah, she could have skipped some of her medication, or simply suffocated her. Why would she put medicine in a bottle that would show up in a blood test? They do tests in every autopsy now. Everyone knows that.”
I put down my cup of tea. Starla had hit on something important. “Whoever killed Rebekah knew the murder would be detected,” I said.
“The one thing that’s bothered me the most is how Doreen could sleep through someone getting into her apartment and drugging her baby,” Starla said.
“Not if someone had drugged her, too.” Damn! I was a day late and a dollar short. I should have thought of this in the beginning. Doreen’s blood had never been tested and now it was too late. If there were any barbiturates in her system from the night Rebekah was murdered, they were long gone.
Starla’s eyes widened. “Now that makes sense.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “If I were you, I’d be looking for someone who meant to hurt Doreen. I don’t think someone killed Rebekah to get her out of the way, I think they meant to make Doreen suffer.”
ALL THE WAY to the Monteleone, I thought about Starla’s words. I’d never viewed the murder as a weapon meant to harpoon Doreen’s heart. It put a different slant on everything.
I hurried up to my floor, eager to discuss the possibilities with Tinkie. My hand was lifted to knock on her door when I heard Oscar’s voice.
“You’re being ridiculous, Tinkie.”
“You’re being selfish.” Tinkie was just as angry as her husband.
“We had an agreement. You knew the terms when we married. Now you want to renegotiate. That’s not how it works.”
“This isn’t a business deal, Oscar. This is our marriage. I’m not renegotiating, I’m trying to tell you how I feel. I want a child. I’m headed toward thirty-five. If I’m going to do this, it should be soon.”
“My mother warned me that you’d hit this phase. The biological clock is ticking and you’re going into a panic. It’s a natural reaction for a primitive animal, but we aren’t primates, Tinkie. You knew when we married that I didn’t want children.”
“Why not, Oscar?”
“I don’t want the focus of my life to shift. I don’t want to make every decision based on a kid.”
“It doesn’t have to be like that. We can afford a nanny. We can have
help. A child would add to our lives, not diminish them.”
Even though I knew I should walk away, I was riveted to the floor. It was as if I were arguing with myself.
“No, Tinkie. We had an agreement. You’ll have to honor it.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Oscar. I don’t have to honor it.” There was a naked threat in her voice. “My father wants a grandchild.”
Man, the gloves were coming off fast. Oscar worked for Tinkie’s dad at the bank.
“Well, he picked the wrong husband for you, Tinkie. He knows how I stand on the issue.”
“He thought you’d change your mind. He told me you’d mellow and want a child as you got older.”
“He seriously misjudged me.”
“Well, I want one, and what I want should count for something.”
“Not in this instance.”
Something crashed against the door. I ducked instinctively, even though I was well protected.
“Stop it, Tinkie.”
Her answer was another crash. “I won’t stop it! I’m furious. I’ve been angry about this for years. Ever since you made me”—there was another crash and the sound of sobbing—“I shouldn’t have listened to you. I should have had the baby then.”
“Tinkie,” Oscar’s voice had gentled. “I love you. Please, don’t do this to yourself.”
Something really big crashed. Television probably. I cringed. “This lump in my breast is your fault, Oscar. It’s all the anger I’ve suppressed because you won’t let me be a mother.”
“Tinkie, you’re talking like a madwoman.”
“I am mad. I’m furious! And I’m going to show you exactly how mad I am.”
The loud crash of glass had to be the ornate mirror over the bed. Tinkie was trashing the room. I backed away from the door and hesitated. Part of me wanted to rush in and grab Tinkie, to hold her until she quit. But a wiser part of me held out. This wasn’t my business. No matter how much I cared about my partner, I had no say-so in her marriage.
I went to my room and closed the door. There was another muffled crash from Tinkie’s room and I closed my eyes. I’d ended up as a private investigator because of Tinkie. She’d once toyed with the idea of pursuing a fling with Hamilton. Even at the time I’d thought it was odd. Tinkie was a one-man woman, and she seemed to adore Oscar. But there were depths to every relationship that swirled and eddied below the surface. I’d just learned one of Tinkie’s bitterest secrets, and I was sorry that I knew.
My phone rang and I went to answer it, hoping the storm in the room next door was over.
“I got some information you might want.”
The voice was Kiley Crenshaw-whoever-whoever. I’d forgotten her string of names. “Kiley, I seriously doubt you have anything that would interest me.”
“No, I do. Adam knew who his sister was.”
She had my attention. “What are you saying?”
“He knew about Doreen Mallory. I’ve got proof. I got his computer out of the U-Store-It where I took it right after he drowned. He was always hovering over the computer, but he never wanted me to fool with it. So I started thinking there might be something his sister would be interested in seeing. I guess he thought he’d wiped the memory clean before he left, but I’m smarter than he thought. I found a big file about Doreen. He knew a lot about her. He musta known she was his sister.”
“How would he know that?” I asked.
“Adam was smart. So am I. You think we’re just ignorant rednecks, but we’re not. I got an associate’s degree in computer science. I’ve worked at a hospital. In fact, I made more money than Adam. He was too busy at the church and researching his religious saints to be worried about doctor bills and baby formula. He had a real thing for healers like Doreen. He looked ’em up on the Internet and the newspapers. He followed what they were doing, but he was mostly interested in Doreen.”
I remembered my visit to his home. “His mother said he was very religious. I’m sure that’s why he kept up with Doreen. He couldn’t have known she was his sister.”
“Then why is her file six times bigger than anyone else’s? You’d better take a look at this.”
Nothing was easy with Kiley, and I knew where this was headed. “How much will it cost me to look at this stuff?”
“Half the money Doreen got from her mama.”
“Bribery is illegal.”
Kiley laughed. “This isn’t bribery, Ms. Delaney. This is commerce. I got something you want and you’re gonna have to pay to get it.”
“How do I know any of it’s worth looking at? I’m not going to buy a pig in a poke.”
“I could e-mail you one of the files,” Kiley suggested. “Sort of like a sample.”
I didn’t have my computer, but Oscar never traveled without a laptop. I could access my e-mail from his computer. If he sur-vived the fight. “Okay, that’s a deal,” I said, giving her my e-mail address.
“You’ll be in touch,” she said with growing confidence. “This stuff is gonna make you beg for more.”
I hung up, unable to imagine anything that would make me beg Kiley.
Both my cell phone and the hotel phone began to ring at once. I answered the hotel phone and knew I’d made the right choice when I heard Hamilton’s voice on the line. Still, I couldn’t help but check the number showing on the cell. It was Coleman calling. I tucked the phone under a pillow to muffle the ringing and turned my attention to Hamilton.
“I’m sorry, Sarah Booth, but I’m tied up here in Baton Rouge.”
“What’s wrong?” I could hear disappointment in his voice, and it gave me a small thrill to realize I knew him that well.
“Julio Martinez has disappeared in Peru. He was a political figure who was gaining power with his campaign to protect the native people and their land. There was a raid on his home. He was taken by a right-wing faction.”
“You mean kidnapped.”
“He’s probably dead.”
“Goodness, Hamilton.” I didn’t know what to say. He sounded upset, as if he’d known Mr. Martinez for a long time. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s not the worst. They have his family: a wife and three children all under the age of seven. Masked men broke into their home, put burlap sacks over their heads, and took them.”
“Did anyone see this?”
“They left Polaroid photographs. They want us to know.”
“Will they hurt them?”
“Yes, to make a point. They want everyone to know that those who dare defy them will suffer. They’ll kill the Martinezes and their children, and they’ll laugh while they’re doing it.”
“What can I do?” I asked.
“Just understand that I want to be with you, even though I can’t. I’ve booked a flight for Washington, D.C. I should be back tomorrow. Will you wait for me?”
“I’ll be here,” I said. It was a simple exchange of basic information, but it was so much more than that.
He asked about Tinkie and made me promise to help Cece as long as she stayed out of New Orleans.
“Henri Boudet isn’t a man to fool around with,” he told me. “He’s done some terrible things to people who cross him. Keep telling Cece that until she hears it.”
“Gotcha,” I said, wondering why I was about to cry. He was leaving for one night. I acted like he was going to serve a thirty-year prison term.
“Be careful, Sarah Booth,” he said. “This case may be a lot more volatile than you ever imagined.”
I hung up the phone and sat still for a moment. In knowing Hamilton, my world had expanded with a mind-boggling speed. Along with my case, I was now worrying about a family in Peru.
And a sheriff in Sunflower County.
I hesitated before I dialed Coleman back. I remembered what Tammy had said. The lion and the wolf. I’d denied that I was caught between them, but it was a lie. And I’d just begun to feel the first nibbling of their teeth. Neither of them meant to harm me. Neither could fully understand the choice I wo
uld soon be forced to make.
I almost hung up when Coleman answered, but I didn’t. Sweetie Pie was serving time in his jail. I had to make sure she was okay. “How’s my girl?” I asked in the perky voice Aunt LouLane had schooled me in when she still thought it was possible I’d turn out all right. Perky is a DG prerequisite. It covers a multitude of conflicting emotions.
There was raw desperation in Coleman’s voice. “Sweetie is fine. It’s Connie. She’s locked her mother and sister out of the house. She has a gun and she says she’s going to kill herself.”
My body went cold. I held the phone and said nothing.
“Her mother says she hasn’t eaten in two days. Sarah Booth, if I force my way into the house, she may kill herself. If I don’t, she may do damage to the baby.”
“Coleman, I’m so sorry.” I had no advice to offer. As with Tinkie’s marriage, this was a decision I had no right to interfere in.
“I don’t know what to do,” Coleman said, and there was anguish in his tone. “All of my life, I’ve always had a gut instinct of what to do in times of crisis. Now, when I need it most, it’s gone. Good God, Connie is capable of anything.”
“Has Doc Sawyer tried to talk to her?” Connie, like me, had grown up with Doc as our family practitioner. He had a way of soothing folks even in the worst of times. My Aunt LouLane had often said he could talk sense into a cow-kicked cur.
“Dewayne’s bringing him out to the house now.”
“Doc may be able to reason with her.” I’d seen the man work miracles before.
“Sarah Booth, whatever happens, this has nothing to do with you. Connie would have done this regardless. Our marriage was dead. She knew that and she tricked me into staying the only way she knew how—with a pregnancy. She knew I’d stay for a baby, and she manipulated events to suit herself. She knew that I’d given you up. You played no part in this.”
His words were small stones dropping into water. I felt the ripples but I knew it didn’t matter. If something tragic happened to Connie or the baby, that would always be between Coleman and me.
“Here’s Doc,” Coleman said. “I’ll keep you posted.”
Hallowed Bones Page 25
