I passed along what I’d learned, then ordered coffee from room service. I was too awake to consider going back to bed, and I had work to do. I was so angry with Doreen that the thought of waking her up didn’t bother me in the least. After a cup of coffee I started getting dressed.
“I’m coming, too,” Tinkie said as she headed to the closet to raid my wardrobe. “Your clothes will be a little big, but they’ll do.” She looked at the phone. “Oscar didn’t even call.”
DOREEN WAS ON her patio drinking coffee when we arrived. The smile that originally lit her face faded as she saw our expressions.
“Bad news?”
“Doreen, who is Rebekah’s father?” Tinkie said. “The DNA tests came back. There wasn’t a match with any of the three.”
A confused look touched Doreen’s face. “That’s impossible. It had to be one of the three.”
“Not according to the tests.”
“Then there was a mistake. It was either Michael, Oren, or Thad.”
She spoke with such conviction that I felt my righteous anger waver. “Are you sure?” Doreen had never made a secret of her sexual activities. Maybe she’d just gotten confused.
“Look, Sarah Booth, I believe in miracles, but this wasn’t an immaculate conception. I know who I slept with and I know when I got pregnant.”
“Could you have confused the dates?”
“The only men I’ve slept with in the last two years are those three. I don’t think there’s a margin there for error.”
“Get dressed,” I said. “We’re going to the Eighth District. We’ll be there when LeMont arrives. There’s something funny going on here and we need to find out what it is.”
While Doreen dressed, we filled her in on her dead brother’s obsession with her, and Kiley’s attempt to barter information for money.
“Give it to her,” Doreen said. “But I want to meet my nephew.”
We took a taxi to the police station, and on the way, Tinkie told Doreen about Ellisea.
Instead of commenting, Doreen watched the now familiar Vieux Carré pass by the window. At last she spoke. “Thad never said a word. What a burden that secret must have been.” She shook her head. “Thad will be destroyed when it gets out.”
“I know,” I said.
“He isn’t a bad man.” She turned back to the window and fell silent for the remainder of the ride. Tinkie and I shared a glance, but we, too, had our own thoughts to pursue. We still weren’t talking when we pulled up at the station house and got out.
We were seated on the felon’s bench when LeMont walked in promptly at eight. He only shook his head when he saw the three of us. Without wasting a word, he motioned us into his office. “What now?”
“How did you get the samples for the DNA tests?” Tinkie asked.
“The men voluntarily gave us a swab.”
“The technician personally took the evidence?” I asked.
“Look, I wasn’t in the room watching. The men came in at different times. They volunteered to do this. I didn’t think it required a watchdog.”
“Can you check with the technician?” I asked. “Something’s wrong here.”
LeMont picked up a file folder, his face growing red. “I’ve about had it with you,” he said. “We’re professional investigators. Just because the test didn’t show what you wanted it to show doesn’t mean it was a bad test.”
“It has to be one of the three men,” I said softly. “There are no other candidates.”
My tone must have surprised him. He put the folder down. “Ms. Mallory?” he said.
“One of those three men is the father,” Doreen said. “There’s no doubt. I have no reason to lie about it.”
LeMont shook his head slightly and sighed. “All right. I must be losing my mind. I’ll ask the technicians. Wait here.”
He was gone for almost half an hour, but when he returned, his face was glum. “The technician said he took the swabs personally, but he did leave the room briefly when one of the men was there. He had a call of nature.”
“Which man did he leave?” I asked.
LeMont sighed. “He doesn’t remember. He’s going back through his records to figure it out. If he’s successful, he may keep his job. Now beat it. I have work to do.”
I gave Tinkie and Doreen a look, and they stepped out of the room.
LeMont gave me an irritated scowl. “What now?”
“Cece knows about Ellisea.”
“Knows what?”
He was going to try and bluff it out. “That she was once a man.”
His face seemed to relax. “So, it’s happened at last. Over the years, Ellisea has made a lot of enemies. When Henri told me about her car, I knew some creep had dug up the truth. I figured they’d try to blackmail her.” He leaned back in his chair a little. “It’s a relief, you know. I told her a long time ago to tell the truth. But you have to understand her family. Her father wanted to kill her. Callie defended Ellisea.” He shrugged. “When Eli decided to have the operation and become a woman, Henri made it very clear that she’d be the best woman in the world. An international beauty. Or else. He really put the screws to Ellisea, and when she doesn’t live up to his standards, he sends one of his boys to beat her up a little.”
I remembered the glimpse of her in the window. So she had been beaten, but not by her husband, as I’d assumed. “I can almost feel sorry for her,” I said.
“You should. She’s spent her entire life trying to live up to Henri’s expectations, and you know what? She’ll never be good enough. Eli was a gentle kid. Always wanting so desperately for his father to love him. But Henri was never much of a father, not even at first. Henri left Callie with Eli back in the swamps while he went to New Orleans to build his empire. That’s how we grew up together. My family looked out for Callie because she was alone. Henri hardly saw Eli through the first thirteen years, and then when he finally spent some time with Eli, Henri realized that he would never have the son he wanted. He was repulsed by his own child. And he’s made her suffer every day of her life.” He stood up. “I guess I’m the only friend Ellisea has.”
DOREEN AND TINKIE were waiting for me on the street. After a brief discussion, Doreen went to the Center to call Connie, per Coleman’s request. With the paternity issue back in play, Tinkie and I decided to get busy checking deep background on our three primary suspects.
Tinkie chose to talk with Michael, and I went to the local newspaper office to dig up anything I could on the senator and Oren Weaver. If hurting Doreen was the motive for killing Rebekah, I figured there had to be some past connection between one of the men and Doreen Mallory. Doreen insisted there was no prior contact, but memory could be deceptive. The public record was easy enough to check.
I spent the next three hours poring over files at the Times- Picayune. Thaddeus Clay had been born in Slidell, just across the lake from New Orleans. His father had been a lawyer with big ambitions. By the time Thad was seven, they were living in the Garden District of New Orleans, on the top rung of the upper middle class.
Like his father, Thad went into law, became a public defender, and was hired as an assistant district attorney. Ellisea was a top runway model at the time, and she swept Thad into the world of glamour, power, and fame.
I couldn’t help but wonder if Thad had known about Ellisea’s sex change from the start. How much of himself had he traded for what his wife’s family could buy him?
I returned to my reading. Clay’s rise was meteoric. First it was attorney general, lieutenant governor, governor, and U.S. senator, in which position he’d accrued a tremendous amount of power. But Doreen appeared to be correct. There didn’t seem to be any common ground between the senator and Doreen until he became her lover.
The clippings on Oren Weaver were much thinner. Weaver burst onto the Louisiana scene in 1974 with a tent revival outside New Orleans. There were a few articles quoting local clergy who were offended by Weaver’s claims of healing, but no real scandal. And n
o mention of any incident that might have provoked Oren’s desire to punish Doreen. All in all, it was a disappointing effort.
I hurried to the luncheon date with Cece and Tinkie. Luck was in my favor and I snagged a parking place just as my phone began to ring. Caller ID showed Kiley. “What do you want now?” I asked.
“Do we have a deal?”
“Since you’re so proficient on the Internet, why don’t you e-mail Doreen some pictures. Doreen wants to see her nephew before she gives you anything.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Adam’s baby. Doreen wants to see him.”
“Joshua’s dead.”
I felt a weight on my chest. “How did he die?” Shaken-baby syndrome, neglect—I prepared myself for anything.
“It was SIDS. He just stopped breathing.”
“When did this happen?” I asked. The information was so unexpected that I had trouble grasping it.
“Joshua was about four months old. It was just after Adam died.” She took a breath. “He was so beautiful. I just went in to get him up and he was cold.”
“Was there an autopsy?” I asked.
“There wasn’t any need. The coroner ruled it was Sudden Infant Death Syndrome right away. They didn’t need to cut my baby up. He just stopped breathing.”
“I’m sorry, Kiley.” I couldn’t help a pang of sympathy for her. She’d lost her husband and her baby one right after the other. “Adam was already dead when Joshua died?”
“Yeah, he was dead. But don’t feel sorry for me about Adam. I was gonna divorce him anyway. He didn’t care about me and Joshua. The truth is, he acted like there was something wrong with Joshua.”
“Wrong?”
“I think he blamed the baby because we had to get married. I was pregnant.” She gave a short, bitter laugh. “It was a helluva price to pay for a few minutes of thrashing around on a blanket. Adam was an awful lover. It was like he was afraid to let it feel good. We only did it once and after it was over he made me get on my knees and pray for forgiveness. He’d said I was dirty and had to be cleansed. I should have realized then that he was totally fucked up. But I was inexperienced. I didn’t really know better.”
“When he found out you were pregnant, he asked you to marry him?”
“Only because those church folks would have died if they thought their precious Adam had gotten me pregnant. That’s all he cared about. What they thought. And he knew I’d go tell them.”
“And what did they think?”
“That Adam was the perfect husband and father.” She made a disgusted sound. “What a lie. I can’t remember a time he ever held Joshua or touched him. Or me either, for that matter. If Adam hadn’t drowned, Joshua and I would have left him anyway.”
“Kiley, tell me again how Adam died.” My words were choppy because my breath was suddenly short. Religious fanaticism had run through Lillith Lucas’s family as if it were a genetic disorder.
“He drowned. I told you.”
“Tell me the whole story. Where were you? Who was there? Where did they find his body?”
“We were swimming in the Pearl River. There are sandbars up around Sandy Point, and we were just having some fun.”
“Who was there?” I wondered if it was members of Adam’s church.
“Mostly guys he worked with for the power company. Them and their girlfriends. We were sipping a few beers and maybe toking a joint when Adam wasn’t looking. He didn’t like liquor or dope. Everything fun had something to do with Satan.”
“Where was Joshua?”
“My mother said she’d keep him for the day. I was working two jobs. I needed a day off.”
“So what happened?”
“Me and the other girls were on the sandbar. The men had waded out into the river. They were going to see how deep it was, to see if they could jump out of a tree without breaking their necks. Anyway, Adam went down to try to find the bottom and he never came back up.”
“He just disappeared?”
“There are some bad currents in the Pearl. Sinkholes and things like that. If one of them gets hold of you, it can pull you down and keep you for days before it turns you loose.”
“How long did it keep Adam?”
“For all I know, he’s still down there,” she said.
“The body wasn’t recovered?” I had a bad, bad feeling.
“No. They hunted but he never came up. That’s one reason the Crenshaws can’t let Adam go.”
“Kiley, where are you?”
“I’m at home. Why? What’s wrong? You sound scared.”
I didn’t want her to know how upset I really was. “E-mail me those files now. Doreen will pay for them. Just do it now. And a picture of Adam.”
“I don’t know if I have one. He was funny about having his picture taken.”
“Look for one. It’s important. And then it might not be a bad idea for you to take a little vacation.”
“I’m not a fool. I want half the money up front. Once you get the files, you won’t pay me.”
Despite my desire to kill her, I kept my voice level. “E-mail those files now. You’ll get your money. You have my word on it. E-mail them and then come down to New Orleans. Check into the Hilton. They have a great spa. Treat yourself. It’s on me. In fact, I’ll have a room reserved in your name.”
“What’s going on?”
Lord, you could hand this woman a fistful of money and she’d ask why. “I’ll tell you when you get here. Give me a call. And don’t call anyone else.”
“Okay, Miss Cloak-and-Dagger. But you’d better have my money when I get there.”
I sat in the car for a long time, matching and rematching the bits of information Tinkie and I had gathered. There was only one conclusion that made sense. Adam Crenshaw was alive. He hadn’t drowned. He was alive, and he was somewhere in New Orleans.
I had no proof, but as I walked into the restaurant, I knew I’d finally figured out who had killed Rebekah Mallory.
32
WITH THEIR HEADS BENT TOGETHER AND WICKED GRINS ON THEIR faces, Cece and Tinkie looked like a couple of co-conspirators in a case of espionage. I took a seat at the table.
“I’m meeting Ellisea tonight,” Cece said. She smiled and I thought her incisors had grown at least half an inch. She looked practically wolfish.
“At Commander’s Palace,” Tinkie said. “I wish I could be a fly on the wall.”
They both frowned when I didn’t say anything.
Cece tapped her perfect fingernails on the table in Mango Spice staccato. “By the way, Connie’s throwing another fit.”
“About what?” I asked. As focused as I was on the case, I wanted to hear about Coleman.
Cece rolled her eyes. “One doesn’t need a reason when one is Connie Peters. She’s making Coleman pay, plain and simple. Doc even said so. He said she needed a good spanking and someone to force her to act her age.”
I didn’t say anything. Connie was risking the only thing that kept Coleman bound to her: the baby. I doubted she was that stupid. “Coleman asked Doreen to talk to Connie.”
“It won’t do any good. Connie’s in hog heaven. She’s not about to change—not when she’s got the upper hand.” The waiter placed fresh bread and butter on the table and Cece popped a bite into her mouth. “This is divine. What’s wrong with you, Sarah Booth?”
“I need to know how a death certificate is issued in Mississippi if a body isn’t found.”
“Whose body is missing?” Cece asked, signaling the waiter for another drink.
“Adam Crenshaw.”
“Doreen’s dead brother?” Tinkie’s eyebrows rose. “Why would that matter?”
I sipped my iced tea, waiting for the perfect moment. “Because Adam isn’t dead.”
“Dahling, do you realize how Boris Karloff that sounds?” Cece asked.
“Boris Karloff, Faulkner, name whatever literary tradition you like. I think Adam Crenshaw killed Lillith and Rebekah.”
“A serial killer who targets only his blood kin. Now that makes one glad to be an only child,” Cece said.
I told them everything I’d learned from Kiley, and threw in the “spawn of Satan” reference Coot Henderson had heard when Lillith died, as well as the mention in Adam’s files. By the time I finished, they were both convinced that it was possible Adam Crenshaw wasn’t in a watery grave. In fact, it was highly probable that he was walking the streets of the French Quarter—and possibly stalking his sister.
“Think what he might have in store for Doreen, if he burned his own mother to death,” Cece said.
I didn’t want to think about it. Lillith’s tombstone, beautiful though it was, was also symbolic of the torment of her death. She had died in the flames.
Tinkie’s depression was gone. She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Let’s say Adam is alive and that he did kill Lillith. Why would he kill Rebekah? To punish his sister for having an illegitimate baby?” she asked.
Motive was the element that was deviling me. Adam might be a religious kook, but why target an innocent infant? I had a theory, but I wasn’t certain about it. “I think Rebekah was living proof of Doreen’s sin.”
“What sin?” Cece asked.
“The sin of lust. Fornication. Adultery. The same sin that Lillith was guilty of.”
“This guy is really whacked,” Cece said. “But why kill a baby? Why not kill Doreen?”
“I think he wants to punish first. To destroy her.”
Tinkie nodded. “If Doreen is convicted of Rebekah’s murder, her entire ministry will be destroyed. If she’s a murderess, especially a woman who killed her own infant, her message is compromised.”
I put my hands on the table, unable to contain my growing excitement. “We’ve been on the wrong track the entire time,” I said.
“This guy shouldn’t be hard to spot,” Cece said. “He probably has a suitcase with glass eyes and wooden legs. Flannery O’Connor could have written about him.”
“Not according to Kiley and his adoptive family. He was a good-looking man. We have to remember that Doreen has thousands of followers. He could be someone she sees on a regular basis, someone who looks as normal as you or me.” I was beginning to panic myself.
Hallowed Bones Page 27
