He got out, locked the Porsche, and caught up with Jolie in the lobby. Falling into step beside her, he easily kept up with her fast-paced walk as she headed for the elevators. She watched him in her peripheral vision, thankful that he didn’t look at her or try to touch her. Learning about his ongoing affair with Eartha Kilpatrick had given her the perfect excuse to reject him. Putting another woman between Max and her own desperate desire for him was the best solution she could think of at the time. Actually, she wasn’t nearly as upset about Max’s “mistress” as she pretended. She hadn’t actually thought a man such as he would be celibate. Hell, sexuality practically oozed from his pores.
Jolie punched the UP arrow and waited. Almost instantly the elevator doors opened and three people emerged, leaving the interior empty. Max followed her into the elevator, then punched the floor number for the ICU. A deafening silence hung between them. Within minutes, the elevator doors opened and Jolie bolted out into the hall and practically ran toward the ICU. As eager as she was to see Theron, her hectic escape had more to do with her not wanting to be alone with Max, even for one more minute.
She found Yvonne, Aunt Clarice, and Nowell Landers in the ICU waiting room. The moment she entered, Yvonne and Clarice stood and rushed toward her.
“Don’t upset him when you see him. He’s already upset enough,” Yvonne said. “He says that he can identify all three men who attacked him. Chief Harper is on his way here to personally take Theron’s statement.”
Jolie grasped Yvonne’s hand. “I’m going to tell him what happened to me and to Max. He needs to know everything that I know, including the fact that someone killed Ginny Pounders to keep her quiet.”
“I understand that you have to tell him.” Yvonne squeezed Jolie’s hand. “Just try your best not to let him get too excited. He may be able to talk now, but he’s still got a long way to go until he’s fully recovered.”
Clarice put her arm around Yvonne’s shoulders. “Jolie cares about Theron. She’s not going to do anything to harm him.” Clarice glanced at Max, who stood just outside the open doorway. “You must go in with her to see Theron. The nurses shooed us out because he got so agitated, and they asked that when you arrived, for y’all to wait until the next visiting time.”
“When will that be?” Max asked.
“Not for another hour,” Yvonne replied. “But Theron demanded to see Jolie immediately. He threatened to tear the hospital down, brick by brick, if he wasn’t allowed to see her as soon as she got here.”
“Then maybe we shouldn’t keep him waiting.” Max’s gaze met Jolie’s. She nodded agreement. “Let’s go see if they’ll let us in.”
While Jolie told him all about Ginny Pounders’ murder, her own narrow escape, and Max being shot, Theron noticed the way Max hovered over Jolie, like some sort of protective guardian. He wanted to ask her what was going on between her and her stepbrother, but he could hardly voice the question with Max in the room.
“Thanks for hiring the bodyguard,” Theron said. “I can pick up the tab myself. Just have the agency send the bills to me.”
“Let me worry about the bills,” Max told him. “You worry about getting well.”
“Max is right.” Jolie sat in a chair at Theron’s bedside, his hand held firmly in hers. “We’ll take care of everything. You just concentrate on recovering. Max and I aren’t going to stop digging until we find out what really happened at Belle Rose that day. He’s as convinced as we are that Lemar didn’t kill my mother and aunt.”
Theron’s gaze locked with Max’s. “You’re going to take care of Jolie, aren’t you? You won’t let anything happen to her?”
“Keeping her safe is my top priority,” Max said.
Jolie snapped her head up and glared at Max.
“If you let her get hurt, you’ll have to answer to me,” Theron warned him. “After all, she and I are…we’re like family.”
“I understand.” Max nodded, then settled his gaze on Jolie, who instantly glanced away.
“You’ll keep me informed every step of the way, won’t you?” Theron asked.
“You’ll know what we know,” Jolie promised. “After all, you’re the one who started the ball rolling. This is your case. Max and I are just going to do the legwork.”
“Be careful,” Theron cautioned. “Don’t take any unnecessary chances.”
“Look who’s talking,” Jolie kidded him.
“Yeah, and see where it got me.”
A tall and commanding middle-aged black nurse entered the cubicle. “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask y’all to leave. Chief Harper is here to take Mr. Carter’s statement, and I will not allow half of Sumarville in here at one time.”
Jolie stood, leaned over, and hugged Theron very gently and very carefully, then kissed his cheek. “You behave yourself and don’t give the nurses too hard a time.”
Theron grasped her wrist. “Be careful and don’t do anything foolish.” He almost ended his sentence by calling her cousin. It would take awhile to get used to thinking of the Desmonds as family. His mother’s family.
That night Max and Jolie gathered the clan, including a sulking Mallory, in the front parlor. Jolie couldn’t help wondering how they’d all react to being questioned, especially Georgette and Parry. After all, it was possible, wasn’t it, that one of them knew the truth, that one of them had been responsible for the murders?
“What’s this all about?” Parry demanded as he took a seat beside Georgette.
“Yes, dear boy, please tell us what’s going on.” Sitting together on the sofa, Clarice placed her hand in Nowell’s. She had insisted her fiancé stay, since he would soon be a member of the family.
Max had tensed at the mention of marriage between Clarice and Nowell, but when Jolie had given him a warning glance, he’d kept quiet. One problem at a time was all they could handle.
Mallory sneered at Jolie. “Since Aunt Clarice is planning on marrying her overaged hippy, I suppose you two are fixing to announce that y’all want to make it a double wedding.”
“Shut up, Mallory,” Max said. “Sit down and keep quiet.”
“Yes, sir!” Mallory saluted him, then flopped down on the huge velvet ottoman in front of Georgette’s chair.
“Hush, dear.” Georgette leaned over just enough to pat Mallory’s back several times.
Max glanced around the room before his gaze settled on Jolie. “As y’all know, Theron Carter and Jolie decided to try to have the Belle Rose massacre case reopened and—”
“And Theron wound up in the hospital and Jolie nearly got herself killed,” Parry stated the facts quite adamantly.
“And don’t forget that Max got shot,” Clarice added.
“The point is that by this time y’all have to realize that someone is trying to prevent any further investigation into the old double murder case. Which, I would think, means that someone other than Lemar Fuqua murdered Audrey Royale and Lisette Desmond.”
“I’ve always believed Lemar was innocent,” Clarice said.
“What Max and I want from y’all is any information you can give us about that day.” Jolie purposefully avoided looking at her stepmother.
“I can’t see where that could help y’all…” Georgette glanced pleadingly at Parry.
“Georgie’s right.” Parry frowned, his gaze directed at Max. “What good’s it going to do to rehash everything?”
“I—I don’t want to remember.” Clarice shook her head. Nowell draped his arm around her shoulders protectively.
“Please, Aunt Clarice,” Jolie said. “If I’m willing to try to recall all the details of what happened to me that day, then surely you can. If only I had even a vague memory of who shot me.”
Clarice whimpered. “Blood. So much blood. I parked in the back, where I always did, and came in through the kitchen.” Clarice’s eyes grew wide, a trancelike expression glazing them. “I saw Audrey’s body. She was dead. And then I saw Jolie. At first, I thought she was dead, too. But thank the Lord, she was
still alive. I suppose I called the police. I don’t remember exactly. I sat down in the floor and held Jolie in my arms.” Clarice sighed heavily. “The next thing I remember clearly, it was weeks later.”
“Then you never saw Aunt Lisette or Lemar?” Jolie asked.
Clarice shook her head. “I never went beyond the kitchen.”
“Aunt Clarice, there wasn’t any truth to the rumors that Lisette and Lemar were having an affair, was there?” Max asked.
“Mercy no. Lemar was our brother, you know. Our half brother.”
A hushed silence fell over the room. An eerily comforting atmosphere of wonder and relief that the truth had finally been brought out into the light of day.
“Lemar and Yvonne were Granddaddy’s children?” Jolie asked, surprised, but not shocked. It was as if on some level she had always known and yet never consciously suspected.
“Oh, my, yes.” Clarice’s lips curved into a fragile smile. “So, you see, there was no love affair. Only a family attachment.”
“Then what would Lemar’s motive have been to kill his two half sisters?” Max asked. “If not jealousy, then what? Hatred?”
“No, no, no,” Clarice insisted. “Lemar didn’t hate anyone, least of all Lisette. And everyone who knew Lemar knew he couldn’t hurt a fly. He was such a kind and gentle man.”
Max turned to Parry. “Did you suspect Lisette of having an affair?”
“Huh?” Parry seemed taken aback by the question. “I…er…of course not. We were engaged to be married. We loved each other and were planning a future together.”
“I’m sorry to speak ill of the dead,” Jolie said. “But I’ve been led to believe that my aunt Lisette was rather promiscuous, that she’d had numerous lovers before you two became engaged.”
“Lisette was a wild carefree spirit,” Parry said. “And I loved that about her. She wasn’t some straightlaced Goody-Two-shoes.”
“I see.” Jolie looked point-blank at Parry. “So, you had no reason to be jealous?”
“I wish you wouldn’t say such hateful things about Lisette.” Clarice’s thin shoulders tensed, even under Nowell’s comforting caress.
“I’m sorry, Aunt Clarice.” Jolie took a tentative step in her aunt’s direction, then paused, and said, “But we have to figure out who might have had a motive to kill Mama and Aunt Lisette.”
“Well, I resent the fact that you’ve practically implied I might have had a motive,” Parry huffed, his cheeks swelling like a bullfrog’s.
Max came up beside Jolie and for a split second she thought he was going to place his hand on her shoulder, but he didn’t. “We aren’t accusing anyone of anything. But Jolie’s right. The more we know about what was going on back then, the better our odds of finding out who the real killer was and stopping him before he tries to stop us a second time.”
“Oh, dear,” Georgette gasped. “Why must we go through that nightmare all over again? My poor Louis was devastated.” She looked at Jolie. “He wouldn’t leave the hospital for days. He stayed there, waiting and praying that you would live. And I couldn’t be with him, couldn’t comfort him. I had to stay away.”
Jolie hated hearing the love and caring in Georgette’s voice, hated having to admit the possibility that her stepmother had truly loved her father. “What we need to know is if any of you can think of something—anything—that might cast suspicion on someone other than Lemar.”
“Someone besides Max?” Parry asked.
“What do you mean by that?” Silent for quite some time, Mallory demanded an explanation for her uncle’s comment.
Parry shrugged. A rather wicked grin played across his face. “There were rumors, lots of rumors. People thought maybe Max killed off Audrey Desmond to clear the way for Georgie to marry Louis.”
“That’s a dirty, filthy lie!” Mallory screamed. “Max would never—”
“No, of course he wouldn’t,” Jolie agreed. “Someone, perhaps the real killer, started that vicious lie, just as someone started the lie about Lisette and Lemar being lovers.”
Staring at Jolie, a startled expression on her face, Mallory quieted. “Then maybe you’d better find out who started the rumors.”
Georgette rose from the sofa. Wringing her hands anxiously, she walked toward Jolie. “Your father believed Lemar was innocent. He spoke to Sheriff Bendall about it, but the sheriff assured Louis that no one else could have committed the murders. For years afterward, Louis would occasionally get in an odd mood, worrying about Lemar’s innocence. And I’m afraid I’m guilty of having persuaded him, more than once, to let the matter drop. I couldn’t bear to see Louis hurting the way he did every time he relived that day.
“We both felt so terribly guilty.” Georgette came right up to Jolie and looked directly at her. “All these years I’ve wanted to tell you…to say that I’m so terribly sorry about what happened to your mother. Louis and I…we loved each other and wanted to be together, but not that way, not at the expense of Audrey’s life.”
Jolie stiffened, every muscle in her body rigidly taut. Emotions overwhelmed her, but she fought them, momentarily conquering the tears threatening to weaken her resolve to hate Georgette until her dying day.
“Mother…” Max spoke softly, comfort and concern in his voice.
“It’s my fault that Louis didn’t pursue the matter, that he never insisted on reopening the case, in proving to himself Lemar murdered Audrey and Lisette.” Georgette held out her hands to Jolie. “Please, forgive me. And forgive your father. He never stopped loving you. Never stopped hoping you would come home.”
Tears gathered in Jolie’s eyes, tears she could no longer control. God, make the pain stop. Make it go away. She couldn’t bear hearing the truth and knowing in her heart that she had wronged her father.
“No…no…” Jolie turned and ran from the room. Blinded by her tears, she could hardly see where she was going but somehow managed to make it outside onto the front veranda. Feelings long suppressed broke free.
“Jolie!” Max called.
She leaned her forehead against the porch column, then clutched it with trembling hands. Max came up behind her, turned her around and enfolded her in his embrace. She clung to him, weeping uncontrollably.
“Ah, chère.”
He held her fiercely, protectively. Clinging to him with all her might, Jolie hoped that Max would never let her go.
Chapter 21
Over the past eight days, Jolie and Max had instigated a full-fledged investigation, with the unofficial help of SheriffIke Denton. Chief Harper simply looked the other way, neither assisting nor hindering their efforts. At first, people in Sumarville, both black and white, had been reluctant to talk about the murders that had rocked the small town twenty years ago. But a few people had been persuaded to recount those unsettling days when the town had divided bitterly along racial lines. The blacks believed Lemar to be innocent; most whites still believed him to be guilty. But not one person of either race had known one bad thing about Lemar.
The residents of Belle Rose had cooperated with Max and Jolie by recalling the events of that long-ago day and sharing their memories of the people and the events prior to and after the murders. Jolie felt almost guilty that she couldn’t remember seeing the killer, that she had no memory of a face that should have haunted her to this day. But I didn’t see him; I only heard his footsteps.
And as much as she hated to admit it, Jolie came to realize the extent of Georgette’s love for her father. The look in her eyes, the expression on her face, the tone of her voice when she spoke of Louis Royale revealed the depth of her feelings for him. Of course, that didn’t lessen the crime of their affair or change the fact that her father had married Georgette so soon after her mother’s death.
And as poor Aunt Clarice wept while recounting the events of a day almost too painful to remember, Nowell Landers had remained at her side, caring, supportive, and protective. Jolie’s instincts told her that this man loved her aunt, that he had no ulterior mot
ives for wanting to marry her. Max disagreed. But then Max was a pessimist by nature.
Parry had been reticent at first to discuss his relationship with Lisette, but after coaxing from Max, he had opened up, even admitting that because of her promiscuity, more than one man in Sumarville might have wanted to kill the youngest Desmond sister.
“We were two of a kind,” Parry had said. “But I think we could have made a marriage between us work, if—if she hadn’t been killed.”
After all was said and done, they weren’t any closer to proving Lemar Fuqua innocent than they’d been in the beginning. But she would not give up. And neither would Max. They hadn’t discussed his motives, not since he had implied that his possessive feelings for her were why he had made her quest his own. In all honesty, she would prefer not to look too closely at Max’s motivation.
Jolie thought it rather interesting, perhaps even revealing, how well Max and she worked together, how in tune with each other’s moods they were. She had never felt such a strong physical and mental connection to another person. But she kept an emotional distance between them, allowing herself only an occasional glance and an infrequent touch. She didn’t dare let herself give in to the longing seething just below the surface. No matter what happened in the days and weeks ahead, when all this was over, they would go their separate ways. When she left Sumarville for good, she wanted to make sure she walked away with her heart and her pride intact.
Theron’s condition had improved and the doctors ordered him moved into a private room. Jolie gave him daily updates on the investigation and could tell how much he wished he could be directly involved. Yvonne returned to her position at Belle Rose, with the stipulation that she be allowed to go into town to visit Theron twice every day. The bodyguards Max had hired continued their around-the-clock duties. And Yvonne, too, had gone over her memories of that long-ago day and had given them a sister’s insight into the kind of man her twin had been.
Despite their determination to come up with enough evidence to warrant reopening the Belle Rose massacre case, so far, no other incidents of violence had occurred, no major roadblocks had been put in their path. But Jolie knew that Max felt a certain amount of anxiety, just as she did. While they kept digging for information, they waited and wondered when and where the next strike would occur.
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