by Robin Caroll
Well… “Her company had hired—”
“She was in a game you created, right?” She crossed her arms and pinched her lips together, smugness hugging every little curve of her face.
“Yes, but—”
Laure nodded and widened her eyes. “Right. You created a game and didn’t even tell her she was playing.”
“That’s the way her company contracted us.” He spoke very fast, determined to be able to at least finish a sentence.
“Whatever. You used things against her like her fear of being stalked.”
Now she paused to let him talk, when he couldn’t argue with her statement?
She nodded again. “That’s right. Just what she thought. You were pretending to stalk her, using the same mask from the guy back in college.” Laure wrinkled her nose as if he stunk of dog crap. “That’s pretty low, even for you, Grayson.”
“I didn’t stalk her. Yes, we had someone put on the mask and appear outside her window, but it wasn’t mean.”
Laure snorted. “You or someone you had do it—either way, that’s pretty cruel, don’t you think? Oh, wait, don’t answer that. Of course you don’t think it was. You designed everything to scare her, to torment her, and for what? Just to have fun before you killed her?”
“I didn’t kill her, Laure.”
“Right. I’m supposed to believe you.” She shook her head. “She called you when she figured it out to talk to you, but you wouldn’t take her call.”
An emptiness settled in his chest. “I haven’t lied to you. Yes, she did call me. Twice. She left me a message that we needed to talk. I couldn’t take the call because I lost my phone while I was out of town and didn’t get a new one until two days ago.” He blinked against the driving wind. “She figured out she was in a game?” He’d suspected she would. He’d warned Colton that she’d probably figure it out, but closer to the end. It was a little earlier than he’d guessed. He was pretty sure she’d know as soon as she went into the escape room part.
“Of course she figured out it was a game. She was smart, but then she figured out it was you. And she was scared, Grayson. Terrified. I could hear it in her voice when she called me.” Moisture filled her dark brown eyes. “I was so worried about her, I went over to the place on Esplanade Avenue when I finished my shift, but nobody was there. She was already dead.”
“I wasn’t there, Laure. I know you don’t believe me, but I swear, I wasn’t there. I had nothing to do with her death.” If only he had been there, maybe he could’ve prevented this from happening. If only he hadn’t created the stupid game to begin with. If only he had stood his ground and told Colton no.
If only, if only, if only. But he couldn’t turn back time.
“You tormented her with the stalker, then you gave her or sent her that Scheduled Maternity pamphlet. That was the cruelest.”
“I didn’t have anything to do with that.” Although, he could argue that what was cruel was his wife aborting his baby—maybe his, maybe not—and not even telling him she was pregnant.
“Right. That just popped up in her room?” The hardness returned to Laure’s face. “The brochure and the mask just appeared there? And that doll? What was with that?”
“That wasn’t hers.” Wait a minute… “How do you know about the doll?”
“It was in her room.”
“How do you know that?”
Now it was Laure’s turn to clam up, but it made sense now. That’s how all of Anna Belle’s personal stuff got put back in her suitcase. He glanced at her blazer again. She delivered it to Monique, but why?
“Why give the suitcase to Anna Belle’s mother?”
She shrugged, her dislike for him pulling the arrogance back to her attitude. “Someone needed to stand up for Anna Belle. For what you did to her. The police wouldn’t listen to me.” She broke eye contact to glance at the discarded napkin dancing across the parking lot. “I figured if anybody would stand up for her that the police would listen to, it would be her mother.” She shook her head. “Apparently not.”
Grayson would normally be annoyed, or at least frustrated by her actions and logic, warped though they were, but he only felt sorry for Laure. She’d loved Anna Belle and had to be grieving.
“Monique and I both want to find out who did this to Anna Belle and see that person brought to justice, but it’s not me, Laure. I had nothing to gain from her death.”
“Except you had to be furious when you found out what she did. She knew you would be livid, even though it wasn’t yours. She knew you’d judge her. She told me your religion wouldn’t allow you to condone what she’d done. That was why she couldn’t tell you in the first place. She didn’t know she wanted a divorce for sure yet, and she knew if she told you, it would be over.”
Every muscle in his body had seized. Not yours. He couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t even think in complete sentences.
Laure hugged herself, her animosity battered down. “She said that she was pretty sure you could forgive her for cheating, but if she told you she was pregnant, you’d expect her to have it, whether it was yours or not, and she didn’t want a baby. Certainly not if it was Tim’s, because if he ever found out, he’d never let her out of his life.”
How could someone he loved so much be so shallow? How had he not seen it? Or how had he ignored it? Had he not wanted to believe it so badly that he refused to see the truth?
Laure stared at him. “If you didn’t leave that Scheduled Maternity thing for her, then who did?”
“Emmi Dubois.”
Shocked marched over her expression. “Emmi? How did she know? Why would she leave it for Anna Belle?”
Grayson shrugged. “I don’t know. On video we saw her take it into Anna Belle’s room on Thursday morning, then leave immediately after. We have no clue how she knew or why she’d do it. The police have the video, so I’m sure they’re following the lead.”
“I just don’t understand.” She shook her head.
“Neither do I. See, I didn’t do that, nor did I kill Anna Belle.” He studied her for a moment. “I want to know what happened just as badly as anyone.”
She nodded. “Um, Grayson, I think I owe you an apology.” She paused. “Probably more than just an apology.”
“You’re going to find this interesting.”
Brandon looked up from his desk to his partner who waved a piece of paper in the air. “Do tell?”
“Do you know why Pam Huron couldn’t determine the type of fish on the charm?”
He shook his head but grabbed his pen and opened his notebook.
“Because it’s not a fish. It’s a dolphin.”
He scrunched up his face. “Dolphin? That thing doesn’t look like a dolphin. I swear that thing looked vicious and not like a dolphin.” He’d got to pet a dolphin the last time he’d gone to Sea World, and that one looked friendly. The image on the charm looked fierce.
“Well, it’s a white dolphin intertwined with a gold anchor on a blue background.” She glanced at the paper to read. “Its original is unknown as coats of arms weren’t given to last names but to individuals to be passed down. They were property.”
“Huh. I didn’t know that.”
Danielle grinned. “Me either. But this particular coat of arms is mentioned in twelfth-century France and is referenced to commeaux lands.”
“Commeaux lands?”
She held out the paper to him and widened her smile. “Used to represent the last names of Commeaux or Comeau.”
He snatched the paper. “Like Laure Comeau.”
She nodded. “The same Laure Comeau who claims to have been Anna Belle’s best friend. The same Laure Comeau who told us Grayson had to have murdered Anna Belle because he was, and I believe I’m directly quoting here: ‘a real jerk,’ end quote.”
Brandon flipped through the file on his desk. “She said Anna Belle called her Thursday and said Grayson was wearing the Mardi Gras mask to scare her.”
Danielle perched on t
he edge of his desk. “But we know it was part of the game and not Grayson.”
“But she didn’t.” He stared at his notes. “She would blame Grayson for Anna Belle’s death. Probably enough to threaten to expose him.”
“And slashing tires and throwing eggs and rocks with messages is the kind of thing someone missing their best friend would do.”
He stood. “She works at the Darkwater Inn, doesn’t she?”
Danielle pushed off his desk. “Ready for a ride?”
“Let’s go.” Brandon followed her to the car.
The wind nearly took his breath away as they broke free of the station and stepped onto the asphalt parking lot behind the building. “Wow, we’d better batten down the hatches. Looks like it’s gonna get messy this afternoon.” He slipped into the passenger’s seat since it was her turn to drive.
“We’ve got a couple of weather alerts open for the area. Man, I hope the crazies stay home.” She clicked her seat belt in its latch.
“Lovely.” He latched his own seat belt. “Anyway, I don’t know what Laure Comeau thought she’d accomplish, unless it was just to make herself feel better, like she’d done something. At least we’ll have something to put on the report for Grayson’s insurance company, if nothing else.”
Danielle started the car and backed it out of its space. “And we get to chalk one up for solving that part of the whodunit.”
“Now if we could just figure out who killed Anna Belle…”
“If we remove Grayson from the list of suspects—”
He grinned.
She shook her head as she turned onto the main road. “I’m going to allow, for the sake of argument, he’s not at the top of the suspect list. So, if I take him from the top, who does that leave?”
“I still say Emmi Dubois.” He pushed the visor back into place. With the weather kicking up, he didn’t want Danielle’s view out of the windshield to be obstructed in any way.
“I’ve heard your argument, and I guess I can see where you’re coming from.” Danielle pulled up to the stop sign and snuck a glance at Brandon. “Sell me.”
“We know that the top motives for murder are money, revenge, love, and anger. In this case, no one benefited financially from Anna Belle’s death except her mother, who is not a suspect. We’ve verified that Grayson didn’t have any life insurance policies on her or anything.”
“Right.”
“So if we remove money as motive, that leaves revenge and anger.” Brandon shook his head as they turned onto the street of the Darkwater Inn. “We know Emmi had every reason to be angry with Anna Belle, and we can certainly understand her wanting revenge, and there’s no question she loves Tim.”
Danielle shook her head and made a face as she pulled up behind the car in front of her and stopped. “I know. The logic is there, but man, I just don’t feel it. I don’t get the vibe from her.”
He understood vibes and gut instincts. “Okay, keeping Grayson off the top of the list of suspects, who else is there with motive, means, and opportunity?”
“I’m wondering about Tim Dubois.”
“Tim? He was in love with Anna Belle. Why on earth would he kill her?”
She turned into the parking lot and eased along to the side of the building to park. “Because she broke it off with him. Not only did she break his heart—love—but she humiliated him because everybody in the office knew about the affair and that Anna Belle had ended it—revenge.”
“Yeah, but I just can’t see it.”
“He’s the one who made the initial contact with Game’s On You. What better revenge than to kill your ex-lover and frame her ex-husband?” She parked the car and turned off the engine.
Now that made sense. “Yeah, I can see that.” Maybe they should take another look at Tim. He pulled out his notebook and jotted a note.
Together they jogged into the hotel. The first fat raindrops pelted against the glass door as they made their way across the lobby. Brandon smiled at the young lady standing behind the front desk. “Hello. We need to see Laure Comeau, please. She works here.”
“And you are?”
Danielle pulled out her shield and flashed it. “Here to see Laure Comeau.”
The smile slid off the young lady’s face. “Just a moment.”
“Thank you.” Brandon smiled at the lady before he turned his partner away, moving her toward one of the groupings of chairs.
“You know what’s crazy though,” Danielle offered.
“Just about every day on our job?”
“Well, yeah.” She grinned. “I guess what’s crazy to me though is that the complexity of the crime doesn’t really fit Tim. I mean, you met him. No offense, but he’s not the brightest crayon in the box. Not like someone who could create such a complex game. Maybe that’s why I liked Grayson for it so much.”
“Logically, I understand.”
“You wanted to see me?”
They both turned to face Laure Comeau. Brandon took a step toward her. “Can we sit and talk here?” Several clumps of people stood in the lobby, closer to the large windows than them, but there were a few close enough to eavesdrop. “Or would somewhere else be better?”
Laure’s eyes darted about. “I only have a few minutes, but we can talk over there.” She led them to the chairs a little farther down. “What can I help you with?”
“We have some questions regarding some vandalism at the home of Grayson Thibodeaux.” Danielle whipped out her notebook.
“Wow, he called you already? That was fast.” She shook her head. “I guess I wasn’t wrong about him after all.”
“What do you mean? Have you spoken to Grayson?”
Laure crossed her arms over her chest. “Please don’t insult me. You know we talked, otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”
Brandon was confused. “Wait a minute. You and Grayson talked?”
A cloud of confusion washed over her face. “He didn’t call and tell you what I did?”
“What, exactly, did you tell him that you did?” Danielle asked.
Laure cocked her head. “If he didn’t tell you, why are you here?”
“Vandalism at his house.”
Her face flushed and her gaze dropped to the floor. “Yes, I slashed his tires and egged his house and threw a rock through his window, but he’s not mad. I mean, he is, but it’s okay.”
“You told him you did all that and it’s okay?” Danielle asked.
Laure nodded. “I mean, I told him I’d pay for the window and I’d reimburse him for the new tires of course, but he said he wouldn’t press charges. That’s why I was upset when I saw y’all. I thought he’d lied and called you.” She paused. “Since he didn’t, how did you know?”
Danielle pulled the bag with the charm out of her pocket and held it up in front of Laure’s face. “You dropped this.”
“Oh my gosh! I didn’t even realize that’d come off my bracelet.” She reached for it, but Danielle snatched it out of reach.
“Did you know you can be charged with criminal property damage?” Danielle asked.
Laure’s eyes grew even bigger. “Even though he’s not pressing charges?”
“It’s up to us whether to charge someone with a crime or not.”
Laure jutted out her chin. “I’ve already confessed to doing the vandalism, and for taking Anna Belle’s things and giving them to her mom. Are you going to charge me?”
“Wait, you’re the one who went and got Anna Belle’s things?”
Laure explained how she’d come to get the belongings and get them to Monique.
“You went into the house unauthorized?” Danielle asked.
“It was unlocked.”
That was one of the problems Brandon had had with the whole crime scene: it hadn’t been secured. The ambulance had left the scene around four forty-five. The CSI unit hadn’t arrived at the Esplanade Avenue address until eleven the next morning. That was almost nineteen hours that anybody could have, and apparently did, go into the ho
use and breach the crime scene. No telling who else had gone in there and removed anything.
“You realize you can be charged with evidence tampering and obstruction of justice?” Danielle could look very intimidating when she tried.
This was one of those times.
Laure’s face scrunched as tears pooled in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to do any of that. I just wanted to get Anna Belle’s stuff for her. I don’t know why. I just couldn’t bear to have her stuff just left there. I mean, I didn’t know she’d been killed then. I thought she’d just died from an allergic reaction. I didn’t know it was a crime scene or anything.”
None of them did at that time. Brandon offered the young woman a smile. “We’ll be in touch if we have any additional questions for you.” He steered Danielle away from Laure. “Well, that’s one question answered.”
Danielle nodded. “Now if we could just answer the most baffling question: Who killed Anna Belle?”
“True that, partner.”
Minutes later, Brandon and Danielle stood under the awning of the Darkwater Inn. Rain came down in sheets, driving at an angle.
“I don’t think it’s going to let up,” Brandon volunteered after several minutes.
Danielle sighed. “Want to make a run for it?”
“Might as well. Let’s go.” Brandon ducked and took off. Rain pelted him, plowing down the collar of his shirt to soak his back. He jumped into the driver’s seat. His shirt clung against his back.
“Oh, this is awful.” Danielle shook her hair and sent water flying everywhere.
“Hey!” Brandon reached for the stack of paper napkins they kept in the back of the console. He handed some to Danielle before wiping his face and hands and dabbing over his hair. “This is crazy.”
“Yeah, I bet patrol’s gonna be busy tonight. Poor souls.” Danielle chuckled and passed the car keys to Brandon. They’d all done their time on patrol in the rain during Mardi Gras season. When the weather went sideways, police, first responders, and hospitals were on high alert with people just acting out. That and when the moon was full.
“Better them than us.” Brandon started the car and flipped on the defroster. He stared out the windshield, waiting for it to clear. He spied movement off the side of the hotel’s lot. Two men were under an umbrella. Everything about their body language said they were having an argument: their stance, their gestures, even their posture. “Check them out.” He nodded toward them.
