Hallowed Bones

by Carolyn Haines

  “He could be anywhere in the city,” Cece said. “He could be watching Doreen all the time.”

  “If we’re right about this, I think he’s close enough to have slipped something into Doreen’s food or drink the night Rebekah was killed,” I said. “He planned that murder carefully, down to making sure Doreen was drugged so that she wouldn’t wake up.”

  “But how would he gain access to Doreen’s apartment?” Cece asked. “He’d have to have a key to get to the baby’s formula.”

  “We need to talk with Michael. It’s possible some of the kids were sent to Doreen’s for something. They may have inadvertently allowed someone to copy a key.”

  “Speaking of Doreen, we’ve got to tell her,” Tinkie said. “She could be in danger.”

  “Kiley’s sending the rest of the files and a picture of Adam, if she can find one. We need Oscar’s computer. And I told Kiley to check into the Hilton. Once she gets here, she’ll be able to identify Adam.”

  “Kiley could also be in danger,” Cece said. “Someone should stay with her.”

  “She’ll probably get here about five,” I said. “We need to read the rest of those files. I can—”

  Tinkie frowned. “I’m supposed to see Michael at five. I haven’t had a chance to talk to him, but I told him I needed more background information. Sarah Booth, would you mind if I went through the files Kiley sent? You could meet with Michael instead. I have some telephone calls in to his past employers, just a simple background check.”

  It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that Tinkie wanted a reason to talk to Oscar. Their tiff was working on her.

  “Sure. Sounds fine. The most important thing is to get a photo, or at least a very good description of Adam. Where are you meeting Michael?”

  “Café Du Monde,” she said, smiling. “Beignets always pick up my spirits.”

  “At five?” I checked my watch. I had time to make some phone calls. LeMont was at the top of the list, but I needed to talk to Coleman and I wanted to talk to Hamilton.

  “When do you meet Ellisea?” I asked Cece. I wanted to know where my friends were. If Adam Crenshaw was alive and walking the streets of New Orleans, it would be best for all of us to know what the others were doing.

  “At six. A little early for dinner, but she insisted.”

  “Be—”

  “Careful,” Cece finished. “Dahling, caution is my middle name.”

  THE HOTEL SEEMED abnormally quiet as I walked through the lobby. A late-afternoon hush had fallen over the city. For one brief instant I wished for magic—something to stop time and motion, except for me and Hamilton. Our hours were running out. Soon he’d return to Paris and I would go home to the Delta. He’d invited me to the City of Light, but I knew myself well enough to know that I wouldn’t go unless we established a stronger bond. I could love Hamilton. I could, but I didn’t. We hadn’t had enough time together to let our feelings grow.

  The wonderful scent of the lilies still filled my hotel room. The first thing I did was to book a room for Kiley at the Hilton. The second was to call LeMont.

  “My lab tech finally figured out it was Michael Anderson that he left alone. I’ve already put in a call asking Anderson to come back in for another DNA sample,” LeMont said. “I think it’s a big waste of time, but we’ll do it anyway.”

  If my current theory was correct, Rebekah’s paternity was no longer a real issue. “There’s something I have to tell you.” I gave him a rundown on what we’d learned about Adam Crenshaw.

  “You think he’s really alive?” LeMont sounded dubious.

  “I think he’s alive and I think he killed Rebekah and Lillith. LeMont, he set fire to his mother’s house. And I think Doreen may be his next target.”

  “Because he thinks she’s a loose woman?” He was barely able to suppress his amusement. “If that’s his criterion for murder, he can have a field day in this town.”

  “Get in touch with Tinkie. Let her forward some of those files to you. You won’t think it’s amusing then.”

  “Sarah Booth, if we arrested everyone who wrote weird things on a computer, there wouldn’t be anyone left walking around free.”

  “Adam’s body was never found. His mother burned to death. His niece was murdered. Heck, his son is dead, too. There’s a pattern there, LeMont.”

  “A pattern, but it doesn’t prove anything. Adam Crenshaw disappeared in the Pearl River. You think he just held his breath for a few hours and floated downstream?”

  “I think he’s a very clever man. And I think he’s alive. Would you check on him? Maybe he has a record. We need a photo of him. And while you’re at it, could you check any records or reports in the death of Joshua Crenshaw? SIDS is beginning to sound mighty convenient.”

  “I’m not making any promises. I’ll do what I can if I have time.”

  I’d told him; I couldn’t make him believe it. “I just thought you should know what we discovered.”

  “I’ll keep it in mind.”

  “Good-bye, LeMont.”

  “Sarah Booth, don’t hang up. I need to talk to you about Ms. Falcon.”

  “Don’t bother threatening her. Cece’s left all the facts on file with her newspaper. If anything happens to her, the story will still get printed.” I figured LeMont could pass the word along to the Boudet family since he knew them so well.

  “I’d like to talk to Ms. Falcon. Maybe explain a few things. I found Ellisea’s so-called friend who vandalized her car. Like I thought, the little pervert thought he could blackmail the Clays. The truth will come out, but an exposé isn’t the way to do it. Will you ask Ms. Falcon to talk to me?”

  LeMont had the authority to talk to anyone he wanted. All he had to do was flash his badge. “Sure, I’ll ask her to talk to you.”

  “I’ll call you when I get the answers on that DNA test.”

  “Thanks.”

  I dialed Coleman next. Deputy Dewayne Dattilo answered at the sheriff’s office, and I realized I was relieved. Talking to Coleman tore me up.

  “How’s Connie?” I asked.

  “Not good.” The Sunflower County deputies had gone to a lot of pains to stay clear of the entanglement of my relationship with Coleman. Dewayne’s voice was clipped and I could hear the discomfort in it.

  “Is she still in the hospital?”

  “Yeah. She’s heavily sedated.”

  “And how’s Coleman?”

  “He’s back in the cell with your dog. I think it’s the first time he’s slept in a couple of days. Want me to get him?”

  “Don’t wake him,” I said. “I’ll call another time. How’s Sweetie?”

  Dewayne’s voice brightened considerably. “I think we need to keep her as the jailhouse mascot. Complaints about food and things have gone down nearly one hundred percent since she arrived.”

  “Give her a pat for me,” I said, mentally blocking the image of Coleman sleeping with my dog beside him. “Dewayne, I need a big favor.” I didn’t wait for him to evade me. Lillith’s tombstone still troubled me. If Adam had burned his mother to death and erected the tombstone, perhaps there was a clue I’d missed. “Could you go to Pine Level Cemetery and write down the inscription on Lillith Lucas’s tombstone? And call Al Jenkins at the funeral home and see if he has a record of who paid for that tombstone.”

  “Is this a joke?”

  “No. It’s important.” I gave him the numbers for the hotel room and my cell phone. He promised to call Al immediately and check the tombstone on his way home from work and give me a call.

  I’d cleared the deck to call Hamilton, and my finger trembled as I punched in his number. He answered on the second ring.

  “Sarah Booth,” he said, relief evident in his voice. “I’ve left two messages for you.”

  Indeed, the little red light on my phone was blinking. I’d been so intent on making my calls that I hadn’t noticed. “Are they good messages?” I asked, desire making my voice deeper.

  “Good in t
he sense that I’ll be back in New Orleans tomorrow for certain. Sarah Booth, if your case is concluded, let’s take a few days and go somewhere.”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t care. Someplace where there are no phones or fax machines. Someplace where we can talk without interruption. Bring your clothes. We’ll pick a destination at the airport and just get on a plane.” He sounded exhausted.

  “Did you find the Martinez family?”

  He hesitated, and in the silence I knew what had happened.

  “They’re dead, aren’t they?”

  “Yes.”

  “And the people who killed them?”

  “Will go unpunished. I did everything I could, but Washington is a city of delay and prevarication. No one in power wanted to get involved. Peruvian politics are volatile, and this country relies on their oil. The lives of one good man and his family were of no importance here.”

  As much as I admired Hamilton and his work, I wondered if I could bear such disappointment, and I knew it must come on a regular basis.

  “I’m sorry. I wish I could change things.”

  “You have, simply by caring. That’s the only way to change the world.”

  He sounded a bit like Doreen. “I’ll be at the airport,” I said. “I can’t wait.”

  “Wear something easy to remove,” he said, and there was the hint of mischief in his voice.

  Even though Tinkie had stopped by the Center to talk to Doreen, I decided to call her, too, just to double-check the payment to Kiley. I’d changed my mind about needing the files.

  “Is it true? Is Adam alive?” Doreen asked.

  “I think there’s a strong possibility.”

  “And you think he wants to kill me.” She didn’t sound convinced.

  “If he’s alive, I’d say there’s a good chance he’s the person responsible for Rebekah’s death. And your mother’s, too.”

  “To punish me?”

  “He isn’t mentally balanced. You can’t try and figure out what he’s thinking. If he did kill Lillith and Rebekah, he’s acting with purpose and deliberation. We may not be able to understand why he’s doing what he’s doing, but it makes sense that you’re the next victim in the pattern he’s creating.”

  “I never even saw him. I never knew he existed. Why would he hate me so?”

  “I can’t answer that. Doreen, what I need is for you to contact Kiley.” I gave her the room number at the Hilton. “Get her to describe Adam. See if he sounds like anyone you know. Maybe someone who’s come to you for healing, someone who’s a regular client.”

  “I’ll speak with her.”

  I glanced at my watch. The afternoon was fast getting away from me. “What are you doing this evening?”

  “I’m introducing Teko to the other kids at the Center.”

  “Teko?”

  “He’s from the projects. He had migraines.”

  Great, so Doreen was now embracing a gangbanger. “And after that?”

  “I have a candlelight vigil on the Square. We do this every November. We have a short ritual and we pray for peace. A lot of people find comfort in the ceremony.”

  “Doreen, you should cancel—”

  “No, Sarah Booth. I won’t cancel it. I can’t allow someone else control over my life.”

  It was pointless to try and talk her out of it, even though she’d be a perfect target for a sniper. Of course, the person killing Doreen’s family didn’t use a gun. He brought death more intimately.

  33

  THE CROWD AT THE CAFé DU MONDE HAD THINNED CONSIDERABLY by five-fifteen. Michael was uncharacteristically late. I finished my coffee and was about to order another when my cell phone rang.

  I checked caller ID and answered, eager to hear what Dewayne Dattilo had discovered in the cemetery. The deputy was as good as his word, and incredibly efficient.

  “That’s a mighty fine headstone,” Dewayne said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like it.”

  “What did the inscription say?” I asked.

  “It’s a favorite quote of my granny’s.”

  I wanted to jump down the phone and choke Dewayne. Of all times for him to be chatty. I saw Michael headed my way. He strolled through the café, easily threading between the tables.

  “What did it say?” I pressed.

  “It said, ‘Born of fire, she perished in flame.’ And then there was the biblical inscription. ‘The Lord is slow to anger and rich in unfailing love.’ ”

  “That’s it?” I had somehow hoped for more. In thinking through the case, I’d somehow convinced myself that the answer would be found at Lillith’s grave.

  “That’s it. Just the dates of her birth and death.”

  “Thanks, Dewayne.”

  “I don’t personally believe that the sins of the father are visited on the children, but my granny sure does. She—”

  “Sins of the father? What are you talking about?”

  “The Scripture. The rest of that line goes, ‘The Lord is slow to anger and rich in unfailing love, forgiving every kind of sin and rebellion. Even so, he does not leave sin unpunished, but he punishes the children for the sins of their parents to the third and fourth generations.’ ”

  “Oh, shit.” I finally understood. My gaze was riveted on Michael as he drew closer and closer. I realized it was the first time I’d seen him in jeans. The oxblood turtleneck was a perfect compliment to the leather jacket and his complexion. He was a handsome man. Four women at a table in front of me simply stopped talking to watch him pass. He was oblivious to his effect on them.

  “Sarah Booth?” Dewayne’s voice was tinny and distant in my ear. He was too far away to offer help. I slowly closed the cell phone and put it on the table. Michael was staring at me. How had I missed it? The sins of the father. I’d come so close to figuring out the killer’s motive, but I’d missed it by a hair.

  Michael had been the only person with access to Doreen’s apartment, via Trina Zebrowski, who managed the apartments for Doreen. Michael had appeared in Doreen’s life shortly after Adam had disappeared. As her financial advisor, he knew every move Doreen made. Michael had been the only one of the three potential fathers to try and thwart the DNA test, because he knew he was Rebekah’s father. I’d been dead wrong when I’d told LeMont that the DNA didn’t matter.

  I took a deep breath and met his gaze as he made it to the table. Michael, who was both Rebekah’s father and Doreen’s brother. The sins of the parents.

  I couldn’t afford to let him know that I knew. “Have a seat,” I said as he came up to the table.

  “Café au lait,” Michael told a passing waitress without even bothering to look at her. He took a seat. “I thought I was meeting Tinkie.”

  “She got tied up.” I forced a smile at the pretty Vietnamese girl as she put his coffee in front of him. She might have been a post for all the notice he took.

  “Have you heard any results from the DNA test?” he asked, spooning sugar into his coffee.

  “LeMont ran into some problem.” My mouth was so dry I could hardly speak. Somehow, I had to stay calm.

  “What did you want to ask me?” He settled back in his chair to a comfortable position, as if he had the rest of the day to chat. His dark gaze was devoid of emotion.

  “Did any of the kids at the Center have access to Doreen’s apartment?” I had to make him believe I didn’t suspect him. “Maybe they delivered something.”

  He shrugged. “Possibly.” His gaze locked with mine, and the tiniest smile touched the corners of his mouth. “I thought you wanted to ask me about Adam Crenshaw.”

  “Doreen’s brother?” I fumbled. “He’s dead.”

  “Is he?” Michael sipped his coffee, but his gaze never left mine. “Would it be a miracle if Adam had survived the cold waters of the Pearl River?”

  He knew.

  He still held his coffee cup. “I got LeMont’s call. He wants another DNA sample. My time has run out. By the way, where is Tinkie? I
s she joining us?”

  “Tinkie’s busy. You paid for Lillith’s tombstone, didn’t you?”

  “With Doreen’s money. Ironic, isn’t it?” It was as if a mask had dropped from his face. His dark eyes held a tremendous passion, but his passion was hatred. The buzz and clatter of the people around me faded and there was only him, his voice. “Doreen is a slut and a whore, just like my mother was.”

  “Rebekah was your daughter,” I said.

  “Doreen tricked me. She touched me and whispered soft words. She made me believe that she loved me.” He was completely emotionless. “I tracked her for years, knowing what I had to do. But then I wavered. I listened to her siren song. And I almost lost sight of what I had to do. But then Rebekah was born and I saw her. She was an abomination. God showed me my sin.”

  Twilight had fallen, and the blue edge of night crept over the eastern horizon. Michael’s eyes were dark pools, unreadable.

  “Doreen does love you, Michael. Nothing she did was meant to harm another person. She loves you and she loved Rebekah.”

  Night was almost upon us, and the other patrons of the open-air café were leaving. In a few minutes we’d be alone. Michael leaned forward. He was so close that his breath was warm on my face.

  “Are you religious, Sarah Booth?”

  The wrong answer could push him over the edge. “In my own way.”

  “Let me ask you something. Why do you think God punished Doreen by sending her Rebekah?”

  “Doreen never considered Rebekah a punishment.”

  Michael’s expression shifted. “You don’t think so? Not even deep in her heart when she was alone? You don’t think she got down on her knees and begged God for a reason?”

  “No, I don’t.” If I had no faith in the Divine, I had come to believe in Doreen.

  “You didn’t see that baby. Every breath was a struggle. Doreen talks of a God of love, but God is also wrathful. He metes out punishment for those who deserve it. Rebekah was Doreen’s penance, and she knew that. Deep in her heart, she knew. Her penance and Lillith’s.”

  Michael’s words echoed in the chill night. Traffic streamed by on Decatur, but the pedestrians were gone. There was only one lone pair of footsteps echoing on the pavement. They softened and finally disappeared.