George gasped.
“These masks can be helpful,” Sage continued. “You can bend to every situation and get along well with anyone. But they may hold you back from attracting situations and circumstances you desire. You sometimes fool even yourself with the personas you adopt. This card is telling you that you don’t need to rely on these false guises anymore.”
Roxy watched George carefully. Did this have anything to do with the murder? Was he the murderer, and his “good spiritual man” persona just that—a persona?
“Now is the time to let the real you flourish. You are free to be yourself,” Sage was saying.
“I’m not sure any of this is true,” said George. “Maybe this reading is for someone else.”
“Maybe, honey,” Sage said. “But let me continue to the end.” She glanced back at the book. “Often, you pretend that you do not know the truth. You play dumb, and let others enjoy feeling superior to you.”
“Oh, my gosh!” said Nat. “That sounds just like how you were with Meredith!”
“No, I wasn’t,” said George. “Was I?”
“George, a truth punch is coming,” Sage warned. “Inwardly, you can be smug, secretly indulging in the idea that it is you who are superior to others.”
“I didn’t think I was superior to Meredith.”
“But once you step into yourself and acknowledge your truth, you won’t have to play this game anymore. You will emerge as a true equal to others, both in the outer world and in your inner world. Accept the truth of who you are, and allow yourself to bloom.”
George sank into a chair. “I’ve got a headache.”
“I’m not surprised,” said Sage. “That was a heavy reading.”
“It was.” George covered his face. “I’m embarrassed.”
“Do you want to hear my interpretation, honey?” Sage asked him.
“Only if it’s more positive than that.”
Sage closed her eyes and took on a calm, meditative expression. “All right.” She opened her eyes again. “Did you find any truth in the reading?”
“Maybe a little,” George said into his hands. “I did let Meredith act superior toward me. She could be overbearing. By keeping quiet, I thought I was doing the right thing.”
“Maybe you were, at the time,” Sage said comfortingly. “But it seems like—I could be wrong—but it seems like maybe she was intimidated by your talent, and she threw you shade so that she could shine herself. She was afraid you’d eclipse her.”
George broke down in tears. “I worshipped her.”
“I know, I know,” said Sage, rubbing his back. “It’s not a good idea to worship humans though, honey. No one is perfect. They can’t always have your best interests at heart, even if they want to. Do you get down on yourself a lot?”
“Yes,” he said.
“And she put you down, too?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You know what you need? You need some good friends to say positive, true things to you, to build you up. Encourage you.”
“I’ll go!” said Nat. “I think you’re great, George.” Nat took his hand and beamed.
George looked at her with a tear-stained smile. “Thanks, Nat,” he said wearily.
“You’re a genuine, kind, big-hearted person,” said Roxy. “Anyone can see that.”
“Thanks, Roxy.”
“And I can tell that you have enormous spiritual potential. You could be a great healer; of hearts, minds, souls, and even bodies. See?” said Sage. “Doesn’t that make you feel better? You don’t need the stress of someone putting you down all the time, especially in the name of ‘spiritualism’ or whatever Meredith chose to call it. That’s false prophet speak and not what this is about, at all.”
“So…you don’t think she was doing it for my benefit?” George said. “That’s what I always believed. That she had my best interests at heart. You think she was putting me down in a way that would make her look better?”
“Well, none of us were in her head, so we can’t know,” said Sage. “But her behavior toward you had the result of keeping you down. Of you thinking bad things about yourself. Of you thinking that you’re not even qualified to read an oracle deck!” She laughed, but not unkindly. “You’re one of the most qualified people to read one! You care so much about people. And that’s the most important thing.”
George wiped his eyes again. “You think so?”
Sage gave him an indulgent smile. “I know so.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
GEORGE SMILED, THIS time with more energy. He spread his arms out wide in a stretch. “Well, we’d better go look for Charles, then. I’m worried about him.”
“I’ll come with you,” Nat said.
“I’ll go back to the Funky Cat,” said Roxy. “Maybe he’s there somewhere and we missed him. Maybe he collapsed in a corner or something. Who knows? I just have the urge to go back there. It’s nearly lunchtime, too. Do you want to come back and eat quickly before you go out?”
“Thank you, Roxy,” said George, “but right now, I have no appetite whatsoever.”
“We’ll grab lunch from a street vendor if we get hungry,” said Nat. “It’ll be quicker that way, and we can spend more time looking for Charles. George, we should check the hospitals while we’re about it.”
George blew out his cheeks at the thought. “Yes, I guess you’re right.”
“Okay,” said Roxy. “Good plan.”
“Sage, please let us know if he comes by here,” said George.
“Sure honey, I’ll call Nat’s phone.”
“And thank you so very much for that reading. I feel like a weight has been lifted. I hadn’t realized how much of Meredith’s energy I’d absorbed into my own.”
Sage smiled. “You’re welcome, honey. And I expect payment for it! In the form of you doing a reading for me one of these days.” She winked at him. “May all the spirits guide you as you look for Charles. I’m sure he’ll be fine. I can feel it.”
“I sure hope so, and you can count on that reading!” said George.
“See you guys later,” Roxy called out. She set off for the Funky Cat and Nat and George went in the opposite direction. Sage’s talk had done George good. Roxy noticed a spring in his step, a light in his eyes, and a can-do attitude that hadn’t been there before. Feeling lighter herself, she jogged all the way back to the hotel.
When she arrived, there was a squad car parked at the end of the cobbled street on which the Funky Cat was located. Her heart quickening, she picked up her pace as she ran over the cobbles to the hotel. The door was open, and she rushed in to see Detective Johnson pacing the lobby.
“You!” he said as soon as she appeared in the doorway. He spoke with such force it was as if he’d tossed a dagger in her direction.
“Um…hello,” Roxy said. “How can I help you? Where’s Sam?”
“The guy with that stupid car?” Johnson said. “He let me in. He’s upstairs.”
“Right…” Roxy said. She waited for the detective to announce why he was standing in her lobby.
“You’ve kept me waiting for 10 minutes,” he barked.
“I didn’t know you were coming.”
“You were the one who called me! To alert me that Charles Romanoff was missing.”
“Yes, we were at the Palace of Spirits.”
Immediately he looked suspicious. “What were you doing there?”
“Looking for Charles Romanoff.”
“Well, that’s what I’m here to do. Look for Charles Romanoff.”
“I thought you were going to put an APB out for him.” This was a very odd argument. Why was Johnson being so obtuse?
“Done that. But you may have overlooked something here. I’ve searched the common and service areas. Now I need to go through the bedrooms and the basement.”
The idea of Johnson poking around all the bedrooms—hers included—made Roxy feel very uncomfortable. “He won’t be in the basement. How could he get in? It’s loc
ked.”
“If he was killed or apprehended, someone with a key…” Johnson squinted at her, “could have opened the basement and dumped him in there.”
Roxy took a step back. His idea was ludicrous but Johnson’s implication that she might have abducted Charles was chilling.
Five minutes later, Johnson came up from the basement. He hadn’t let Roxy accompany him. She’d waited at the top of the stairs, feeling jittery even though she knew Charles couldn’t possibly be down there. She had the only key. As Johnson took the last step he tripped over Nefertiti who he hadn’t seen waiting under Roxy’s feet.
“Darn it!” He nearly fell flat on his face and had to grab the wall to steady himself.
Nefertiti squealed and fled.
“Oh!” Roxy exclaimed. “Sorry!” She would have found it amusing if the situation hadn’t been so serious.
“That darned cat is a health and safety hazard!”
“I’m sorry,” Roxy said again. She gestured at the basement. “So…?”
“Oh yeah, he’s down there,” said Johnson, looking more annoyed than ever. He brushed out his suit creases. “Doing crochet with an alligator. They’re both coming upstairs now to have a cup of tea. Put the kettle on to boil why don’t ‘cha?”
“What?”
“He’s not down there,” Johnson snapped. “Obviously.”
“Johnson?” A voice floated from Johnson’s radio on his chest.
He pressed the button. “It’s Detective Johnson!” he hollered into it.
“Trudeau here, Detective.”
“What do you want?”
“Time’s up on Jack Lavantille.”
“Who?”
“Dr. Jack. We have to let him go. We don’t have enough evidence to charge him. Gun was clean, untraceable, and forensics said there was no way of identifying who shot it. The witnesses were bunched around a small table so close together it was impossible to work out the trajectory, apparently.”
Johnson turned away from Roxy and walked into the dining room so she couldn’t hear the the rest of the exchange, but she could see him muttering furious words into his radio. A couple of moments later, the detective came back looking like he wanted to break the whole world in two. “I’ll be in touch,” he growled to Roxy, brushing past her so fast that for a second, a gust of wind made her short hair stand up on end.
She hurried out to watch him stride up the alleyway and get into this squad car. “Are you releasing Dr. Jack?” she called out after him.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” he shouted back.
“But what about Charles Romanoff? Don’t you want to look in the bedrooms?”
Johnson glared at her and shrugged his shoulders before slamming the patrol car door. The engine roared into life and the car lurched forward as he drove it away at speed.
“Jeez!” Roxy said, as soon as he was gone. She felt the warm, tickle-y softness of Nefertiti press against her ankle. She bent down and picked her up, laying her cheek on the silky soft fur as she often did when she needed comfort. “The amount of frustration that guy generates could power the entire city, Neffi.” She let out a big sigh just as her cat gave a big yawn. “I’ll go and see Sam and update him on Charles. He’ll calm me down.”
When she reached the loft, Roxy saw the second round wheel-like window had been installed. The loft was flooded with golden midday light. “Wow!” she said.
Sam, who had his back to her and hadn’t heard her arrive, jumped. He turned around, laughing. “Man, you startled me.”
“I don’t blame you, what with all this craziness going on,” said Roxy. “That window makes all the difference, Sam. It lights up the whole place. This space looks wonderful.”
He beamed. “I’m glad you like it. I got that navy blue stain for the floorboards like you said. I’m going to tackle that next.”
“I can’t wait to see it all done!”
“So…did Johnson give you a hard time?”
“No more than usual,” said Roxy. “He wanted to check out the basement. Charles wasn’t there, of course. He wasn’t at the Palace of Spirits. He wasn’t at Dr. Jack’s. It’s like he’s disappeared into thin air. George is so worried. He and Nat are out combing the streets for him.”
Sam nodded. “I’m concerned myself. It’s nearly 1 PM now. I’ve got a bad feeling.”
“I have a bad feeling one minute, an optimistic one the next,” said Roxy. “I’m up and down like a yo-yo.”
“Shall we go out and look? I can put all my laundry van guys on it, too. I’ll send them his picture if you can get one from George. Then you and I can go out in the car and search ourselves.”
“Yes, let’s do that,” said Roxy. “I won’t be able to relax if I try to do anything else. I hope he’s okay.”
“What’s happening with Jack?
“They might be releasing him today. They don’t have enough evidence to charge him, and they can’t legally hold him anymore. I overheard Trudeau tell Johnson, time’s up.”
“That’s excellent news,” said Sam. “Maybe they’ll start considering other suspects now.”
“Yes,” said Roxy. “We can only hope.”
Her mind flew as she considered the logistics of leaving the hotel to search for Charles. “No one’s going to be here at the hotel. Normally I’d get Nat to come back, but she’s a big comfort to George right now. Sage is covering the botanica. Maybe I should call Evangeline? She might step in. And she could make dinner? Oh, but I don’t expect dinner matters much. It’s just for George, and I doubt he’ll want to sit down to eat when Charles is missing.” Roxy was rambling.
“Just lock up, Roxy. Put a note on a door.”
“Yes, yes, that’s a good idea. I’ll leave a note with my phone number on it, just in case Charles comes back or anyone else stops by. I’ll go into the bakery and let Elijah know what’s going on, too.”
As she crossed the street, a frown creased Roxy’s forehead. There was so much coming and going, she could barely keep it all straight.
When she explained to Elijah that Charles Romanoff had gone missing, and she was locking up the hotel to search for him, Elijah looked very concerned. He insisted on handing her a big bag of white chocolate and macadamia nut cookies. “For energy,” he said. “Are you sure you don’t want me on the streets, too?”
“It’s better if you’re here,” said Roxy. “That way you’ll see him if he arrives. Plus, you have your bakery to run.”
“Okay, girlfriend. I’ll keep my eyes open. Good luck.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
FOR THE NEXT two hours, Roxy and Sam cruised the streets in his Rolls Royce Phantom. Every now and then, Roxy caught sight of a man of Charles’s height and stature. Her heart would stop, and she’d point. Sam would slow his speed as he drove past while she peered closely out of the window but each time, a closer inspection revealed the stranger wasn’t him.
“My mind’s starting to run away with me,” said Roxy. “I keep thinking, maybe the murderer got to him, too. Or maybe he is the murderer, and he’s taken advantage of the police’s fixation on Dr. Jack to flee.”
“Wasn’t there any evidence to point to one of you in the room as being the shooter? Fingerprints? Ballistics?
“I heard Trudeau say there were no fingerprints found on the gun, that it wasn’t registered, and that because everyone was sitting in such a tight circle, it wasn’t possible to say from where exactly the gun was shot.”
The Rolls was crawling along so slowly that cars behind them were honking their horns. Sam ignored them. They needed to go slow—they didn’t want to risk even the slightest chance of missing Charles.
“Move that big hunk of metal outta the road,” someone yelled from behind.
Roxy turned back to see a man in a pickup truck waving his fist.
“Take no notice,” said Sam. He was silent for a while, but he did pull over to let the cars pass before cruising off again. “I’ve just had a horrible thought,” he said eventually.
“What?”
“What if…” He sighed. “What if Charles killed Meredith, and now he’s gone and killed himself. A murder-suicide of sorts.”
“But…” Roxy’s head was pounding. “But when I’ve seen that before, on the news or whatever, it’s usually done in one massive moment of anger. Like the husband goes into a rage and kills his wife, and then commits suicide immediately. Like it all happens at once. And there’s lots of emotion, a crime of passion.”
“That makes it sound almost romantic.”
“It most certainly is not, but this feels different from that. Meredith’s murder was planned, premeditated. There was no emotion at all. Whoever did it was as cool as a cucumber.”
“You have a point,” said Sam. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I hope you are.”
“I’m hoping he went out, forgot his phone, and then couldn’t find his way back.”
“Could be,” said Sam, though he sounded doubtful. Roxy wasn’t surprised. The idea seemed far-fetched even to her.
Just then, Roxy caught sight of a sign for Modal Appliances, the company she’d previously worked for as a customer service agent. She’d mostly dealt with irate customers who couldn’t work out how to use their new or malfunctioning washing machines. Her memories hit her like a wave.
“Man,” she said, slumping back in her seat.
“What is it?” said Sam, looking concerned, his eyes flicking from the road to Roxy.
“I don’t know…it’s weird how different my life is now, how fast it’s changed. It’s surreal. Just a few months ago, I was working in a call center. The job was so uninspiring, but it felt safe. All I had to do was go to work, do my time, go home again, and get paid.”
Sam laughed. “You make it sound like jail.”
3 Louisiana Lies Page 13
