Black Hearts Dance

by Gerald Lopez

  “Then what?” Alex said. “Veronica returns to the court and contacts her husband and brother?”

  “Mr. Carson and Marcus were in France at the time,” Shannon said. “How would they have known it was safe to return? I realize we’re rehashing what we talked about earlier in the day, but we never did get a satisfactory answer.”

  “I wasn’t privy to your earlier conversation, but I may have a clue as to how they would’ve known Veronica had returned,” Nathan said. “There’s an English language newspaper in Paris for expatriates that dates back to before Veronica’s time. If her return was a big enough deal it would’ve shown up in there and Mr. Carson would probably have seen it. Surely, he and Marcus would’ve been on the constant lookout for news. And they have an extensive archive online.”

  “Then grab a drink and follow me to my grandma’s office,” Elise said. “Let’s see what we can find out.”

  They left and the rest of us continued to eat our leftovers and drink soda.

  “What is left to figure out in regard to this case, Layton?” Frankie said.

  “Things are definitely coming together,” I said. “But, I’d really like to know what Delilah’s original plan was—the one that was spoiled by Mr. Carson.”

  “Something must’ve gone really wrong to get that heathen so mad she did what she did to Veronica,” Miss Maribelle said. “Clearly she set Veronica up to take the fall in the deaths of the twins. But the viciousness of the payback—”

  “Payback!” I said. “It wasn’t just about getting to be mistress of the court for Delilah. There was some sort of ‘payback’ involved. But why was it directed at Veronica?”

  “Maybe we can learn something at the bordello tonight,” Alex said.

  “Maybe,” I said, then decided we need a change of subject for a while. “How’s the restaurant going, Jimmy?”

  “Oh, um, wow that was a sudden change of topic,” Jimmy said. “The restaurant is going great. You need to make time to come by with Alex. How does it feel being the homeowner of such a prestigious address in town?”

  “Do you think I’ve actually had time to take it all in?” I said, then smiled. “This place felt like home the minute I got here, that’s all that matters in my book. Besides, I feel like I haven’t stopped solving mysteries or dealing with the supernatural since Shelby.”

  “That’s not good,” Frankie said. “I was going to ask if you planned to make any changes to Carson Court, but it doesn’t sound like you’ve had a chance to think about it.”

  “I’ll leave that to the resident artists, Alex, Charity, and Linus,” I said. “The general’s office can be my space.”

  “And the bedroom,” Shannon said. “That’s an important space.”

  “That will be a retreat for me and Alex,” I said.

  We engaged in unimportant small talk for half an hour or more until we were interrupted by Elise and Nathan.

  “We found it!” Nathan said, holding a printout up in the air. He began reading from the printout. “American socialite escapes from abductors and makes her way from Florida to North Carolina.”

  He handed me the printout and I looked at an old black and white picture. It was of a dirty Veronica in a tattered and muddy dress standing next to a black woman who looked bedraggled as well. I then read the story aloud.

  Mrs. Veronica Carson, Florida socialite abducted from her home and imprisoned for more than ten months escapes to find help in North Carolina. Mrs. Carson gives credit for her escape to Miss Luisa Morelle who came to her rescue.

  “Javina’s mother,” Alex said. “She helped Veronica escape to North Carolina.

  I read ahead, then spoke. “Listen to this.” I read from the printout again.

  Police in North Carolina were able to contact authorities in Florida who launched an investigation into what occurred in Moresville, where Mrs. Veronica Carson lived. The police, a local business woman, her nephew, and several other people in prominent positions were arrested, tried, and put to death for the forced imprisonment of Mrs. Carson. No other details have been released. Mrs. Veronica Carson will be recuperating in our healing mountains until she is reunited with her husband and brother at her Florida home—Carson Court.

  “That’s incredible,” Shannon said.

  “Too incredible if you ask me,” Nellie said. “Miss Morelle wouldn’t help her own daughter, so why’d she help Veronica?”

  “Yeah, why would she?” Rory said.

  “Because things got so bad for Veronica that she couldn’t sit back and do nothing anymore,” Miss Maribelle said. “Miss Morelle made sure her daughter had a fairly easy death with her virginity intact. But they must’ve tortured Veronica to the point Luisa Morelle felt compelled by Christian duty to help her.”

  “Maybe someone at the bordello kept a record of what happened,” Mrs. Carson said.

  “I’ll do my best to find out about that tonight,” I said.

  I passed the printout around, we finished our food and drinks and threw away the garbage in a trash bag Rory had brought out.

  “Big bro is gonna be sorry he missed all this,” Rory said. “The only thing I don’t get is why there was such a conspiracy of silence. The bad guys and gal were put to death for their part in things.”

  “If you noticed, the article didn’t talk about what happened to my grandmother,” Mrs. Carson said. “Nor was there mention of a baby, but plenty of time passed for there to have been one.”

  “Then, the Carsons, Mr. Jardine—heck a whole town kept quiet about things for the sake of a kid,” Rory said. “I mean, I believe Veronica probably did have a kid by Josiah. That’s why Jardine raised the child here.”

  “My mother spent quite a bit of time at the court as well, but so did other black girls,” Miss Maribelle said. “It was strange. I didn’t think anything of it at the time because Veronica was involved in helping black folks in the area for her entire life.”

  “Rory,” Mrs. Carson said. “If official word got out about my grandmother having been raped by a black men as well as others, she’d have no place in proper society anymore.”

  “Yeah, but it wasn’t her fault,” Rory said. “That’s stupid.”

  “That’s the way it was,” Mrs. Carson said.

  “It mentions in this article that the court papers were permanently sealed and the jury members were sworn to secrecy,” Jimmy said.

  “Hang on a minute,” Alex said. “Who was the imposter that came from France pretending to be Javina?”

  “That’ another question to ask our hostess tonight.”

  “You guy’s look like you need a serious break,” Rory said. “You should take a nap and leave the rest of this stuff for us to clean up. “Remember, I go to bed late, so feel free to come by for drinks and some time in the hot tub or pool when you’re done at the bordello. You should go rest a while too, Shannon, so you’re ready for whatever happens. Oh, and you’re welcome to come over to the pool house, too.”

  “Thank you, but it might be better to keep it strictly boys night over there—at least tonight,” Shannon said. “But, I will go back to the guesthouse for a short nap.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Elise said.

  They said their goodbyes then left.

  “I’ll catch up on everything tomorrow,” Miss Maribelle said. “I’d best be going home. Come walk with me, cuz.” She said the last part to Mrs. Carson who smiled, then spoke.

  “Hell, you always felt more like a sister than a cousin to me. Layton and Alex, you two should take Rory up on his offer of a drink and a dip when you get back. He’s got skills for putting a body at ease.”

  “Nellie and I will walk with you, ladies,” Nathan said.

  They all gave the rest of us hugs and kisses, then left to go to Miss Maribelle’s home.

  “Is this situation crazier than the one at Shelby, Layton?” Jimmy said.

  “No, not really,” I said. “The ghost part is sort of different, but the people here are pretty darn nice.” I smi
led. “One day you and Frankie need to come over for a quiet dinner or drinks.”

  “Do you ever have quiet evenings, Layton?” Frankie said.

  “They’re never that quiet,” Alex said. “Not if I have anything to do about it.”

  “With that, I think we will make our exit and go take a nap,” I said.

  “Good luck tonight,” Frankie said. “Hopefully it will be an enlightening evening.”

  Chapter 52

  The Rest of the Pieces

  SHANNON MET us on the front porch of the main house when it was time to go to the bordello. She was dressed in the same shorts as earlier but had changed into her strappy heels, and added a loose, copper, sequined short sleeve top. I was in khaki pants and a button-down, blue, plaid shirt. Alex had on blue jeans and a white button-down shirt.

  “Don’t we all look nice tonight?” Shannon said. “And I haven’t failed to notice the two of you are wearing deck shoes—how impressive.” She chuckled and Alex and I laughed.

  “You look especially glittery,” I said.

  “Hopefully this is the end of the somewhat formal affairs because I am out of dressy attire,” Shannon said. “Tomorrow I will be spending most of my day washing and drying clothes.”

  “I don’t envy you that,” Alex said.

  We walked to the truck, got in, and I drove to Delilah’s establishment. The bordello was located on the other side of the main street we’d come in on when we arrived. The neighborhood to the right of the street was a nice mixture of cottages and large Victorian homes.

  “Oh, my,” Shannon said when we’d arrived at our destination. “Now this is a grand lady. She’s the definition of a painted lady, only this house is in Florida instead of San Francisco. The purple color accented with lavender is—”

  ”It looks like a tarted up house for a bunch of tarts to me,” I said, then chuckled.

  When we got out of the truck I stood in front of the immense home and stared. The house was impressive with its turret, gingerbread trim, and wraparound porch. There was a tall, wood, stockade fence which hid the backyard from view. On the front porch with a drink in her hand was the current Delilah dressed in a shimmering gold caftan with long sleeves. Delilah beckoned us in with a wave of her hand and the demeanor of an African queen.

  “Layton, something is still nagging me, but I don’t know what,” Shannon said.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “There are a few things still bugging me too.”

  “Hello, hello,” Delilah said, as we walked onto the porch. “Can I have some drinks made up for you?”

  “What you’re drinking looks good,” Shannon said.

  “It’s a pina colada,” Delilah said.

  “That sounds very good,” I said.

  “It does,” Alex said.

  “Reinaldo,” Delilah said, and the front door opened. A large, musclebound, black man dressed in a black T-shirt, jeans and sneakers exited the house and went to Delilah’s side.

  “Yes, Miss Delilah,” Reinaldo said.

  “Can you please have the bartender make some pina coladas for our guests?”

  “Yes, Ma’am. Alcoholic or non?”

  “Non for me,” I said.

  “The same for me,” Alex said.

  “I think I’ll be daring tonight and have mine with alcohol,” Shannon said.

  “Good for you, girl,” Delilah said.

  “Have those brought to the backporch,” Delilah said.

  Reinaldo went inside the house again and Delilah turned to us.

  “My grandmother is here,” Delilah said. “She’s quite pleased with the progress you’ve made on the case.”

  “How pleased?” I said.

  “Pleased enough that she wants to fill in some of the holes in the story, she said. She’s been telling Detective Forrest and I everything you’ve learned. It’s both heartbreaking and sad.”

  “Did she happen to mention who filled her in on what we’d learned?” I said.

  “I’m afraid not,” Delilah said. “Her lips are sealed in regard to that until she meets you.” She walked to the door and I quickly opened it for her. “Ever the gentleman, I like that.” Before entering the establishment, she turned, smiled at me, and ran her hand gently across my chin. “You’re a very handsome man, Layton. You and Alex are very lucky to have found one another.”

  “Yes, we are,” I said.

  The home was furnished with antiques inside and lights were kept dim. Here and there were females lounging in underwear or robes. On our way outside, I spotted a young man kissing a significantly older woman. Delilah noticed me watching them and whispered in my ear.

  “She’s the oldest one here and the most requested. Her skills are legendary.”

  “I bet,” I said.

  The back porch looked out over a large courtyard with a swimming pool at its center. There were couples in the water and some lounging on chairs in various stages of undress. We walked down the back stairs and to the far left corner where there was a wood gazebo. Inside was Forrest, still in uniform, sitting next to a trim, older woman who was dressed in pants, a lightweight, violet, pullover sweater with rhinestones down the front, and flats. She had shoulder-length auburn hair and was clearly mixed race, which triggered something in the back of my mind. The woman stood and held her hand out toward me.

  “Good evening, Detective Shayne,” the woman said. “My name is Latrice Luisa Benton, formerly Latrice Jardine.”

  “I’m honored to meet you, Ma’am,” I said. “Please call me, Layton. This is my partner Alex, and our friend Shannon Henry.”

  “I know that already, young man,” Mrs. Benton said. “Why are you so honored to meet me?”

  “I’d be honored to meet any of the general’s poker playing friends,” I said, then chuckled.

  “You are a sassy one, like I’ve heard,” Mrs. Benton said. “But the general said you were the best of the best and for me to just stay out of your way when you came here to deal with things—at least until I felt I could be of help. You’ve done well figuring things out on your own, haven’t you?”

  “I had lots of help from friends, both living and dead,” I said. “A lot of credit has to go to a little girl named Javina.” I turned to Forrest and smiled. “Hello, Forrest.”

  “Hello, Layton… Alex… Shannon,” Forrest said.

  Reynard appeared and brought us our drinks. I turned to Delilah then back to Mrs. Benton. “When I first saw Delilah on the porch tonight I thought she looked like a queen,” I said. “One who would be right at home in a court… or should I say the court.”

  “You have figured things out,” Latrice said. “The court belongs to who it should, as it always has. My family was never denied access to it, whether we deserved it or not.”

  “I don’t understand,” Delilah said.

  “Veronica had already had twins once,” I said. “She gave birth to twins by Josiah Morelle, didn’t she Mrs. Benton?”

  “A boy and girl, to be exact,” Latrice said. “It was too much to ask that poor woman to try and deal with twins again after what happened to the first ones, so they were separated. The boy, my father, was raised by Luisa Morelle and the girl by Hubert Jardine and his partner Benedict.”

  “Then the girl from Paris was brought in to run the bordello,” I said.

  “We might’ve lost it otherwise because Grandma Luisa wouldn’t run the place, the memories were too much for her to deal with. And Delilah’s will specifically said this house had to be run by a female family member. The money that was sent to Paris wasn’t just for the girl. It was also used as hush money to be spread around to keep people quiet about what happened.”

  “Hold on,” Delilah said. Let me go back. Do you mean we’re related to Veronica Carson?”

  “She was my grandmother,” Mrs. Benton said. “When I turned sixteen there was a grand ball in my honor at Carson Court. I could’ve gotten married there too, but nothing beats a wedding in Paris in the spring.”

 
Everyone grew silent and concentrated on their pina coladas, then Mrs. Benton spoke. “What they did to Veronica was monstrous,” Mrs. Benton said. “It wasn’t done out of mere jealousy, but the reason it was done still doesn’t make what they did right.”

  “What did they do, Grandma?” Delilah said, but was ignored.

  “What was the original Delilah’s plan—the one that went so wrong?” I said.

  “Now that’s the right question to ask, Detective—I mean, Layton.” She lifted up a leather bound book that was in front of Forrest on the table. “Little Javina wasn’t the only one who kept a journal. Auntie Delilah kept an account of all her wicked plans and deeds for future generations of woman to learn from. And we did, but not the way she wanted. We learned how to be decent women to make up for her wrongs.”

  “You’re making me nervous, Grandma,” Delilah said.

  “You don’t need to be nervous, girl,” Mrs. Benton said. “You’re a Godly woman.” she turned to us. “Our family needed money and the bordello held too many secrets to be passed on to strangers so we’ve continued to run it. But after the first wicked Delilah no others were allowed to have sex while running this establishment. It’s something that’s always been insisted upon. This house provides a service in as decent a way as possible. The current Delilah’s mother, my daughter, retired and lives a quiet life up north. My granddaughter will retire one day as well, but before she does this house will reveal all of its secrets.”

  “What was the first Delilah’s plan?” I said.

  “Somehow she… Delilah… had a power over Josiah and that family,” Mrs. Benton said. “The power to twist and bend them to her will,” she clenched her fist, raised it in the air, then twisted it. “It was before the arrival of Mr. Marcus. Josiah was still seeing to Mr. Carson’s needs, so to speak. Delilah forced Josiah to collect Mr. Carson’s seed in a cup, then she inseminated herself with it.”

  “Mrs. Carson was right,“ Alex said. “Except she thought they’d used a turkey baster.”

  “Isabel is a smart woman,” Mrs. Benton said. “I’m not surprised she’d stumble upon that in some way. Come walk with me. I have things to show you as I talk.”