Lies Agreed Upon (47 page)

“It sounds like your gamble failed. Is that why Desmond committed suicide
later? But why wait so many years after Guy’s death,” Tess questioned with puzzled frown.

“No, I succeeded. Desmond emerged from his funk and, with my help, re-entered the world and its many remaining pleasures. In fact, we were talking about how Guy’s death had been such a catalyst to his revived spirits on that fateful day in the library. Unfort
unately, little Joanne overheard and misunderstood.”

“So my mother was under the desk while you and Desmond reminisced happily about Guy Cabrera’s death and your roles in it. No wonder Desmond was upset when he dragged my mother out from under the desk.”

“Yes, he frightened Joanne, and, as I said, the terrified child shoved at him in panic, and he was accidently shot,” Dreux nodded.

“But that isn’t the truth,” contradicted Tess “My mother knew better. She wanted to set the record straight.”

“What did she say happened?” asked Dreux. He did not look at her but instead busied himself by placing his folded jacket at the edge of the dock near the path. At the same time, he bent and gathered up a heavy-looking, white-painted border rock nearby. He turned and strolled back toward Tess, eyes clear and expression attentive. He fondled the large rock absently in one hand. His actions and manner struck Tess as odd, but she was too intent on the conversation to interrupt its flow.

“She
wanted the truth, the justice denied by the whole accident-suicide story. But she was very young and upset. Tell me your version. I know you were in the library and witnessed everything,” responded Tess. She chose her words carefully to avoid revealing how little she knew with certainty.

Dreux gave her a hard look and then
nodded, “I was there when Desmond dragged Joanne out from under the desk. We questioned her quite gently to see how much she had understood, or misunderstood. But Joanne was not the little mouse we assumed, even then. She looked straight in our eyes when she spoke. ‘You’re happy Poppa’s dead. I’m gonna tell Momma what you did,’ she said.” Dreux’s voice eerily mimicked the high falsetto of a child before returning to normal.

“I’m not sure what Desmond was thinking. Perhaps he panicked or lost his temper. But I think it more likely that he snapped mentally for a moment. He
suddenly had such an eerie smile on his face. He spoke terrifying words so sweetly. ‘It’s too bad you were playing with my gun under the desk, Joanne. When we tried to take it away, bang, Guy’s poor little girl went to be with her poppa,’ he said. Then Desmond pointed the gun at Joanne’s head. I’ll never forget the looks on his face and her face,” Dreux shook his head and a pained look pinched his eyes and mouth briefly.

“
If Desmond hadn’t been in a wheelchair, Joanne would have been the ‘accidental death’ that day. Before he could aim, she screamed, grabbed at the weapon and pushed at Desmond so his chair rolled backward and his aim wavered. I ran forward to stop Desmond, and the child was sandwiched between us as I grabbed for the gun. Desmond was trying to wrench the gun from her when it went off.” Dreux fell silent and watched her face to gauge her reaction.

“He was going to murder a little girl in cold blood,” gasped Tess, a shiver shooting up her spine. “But you found a way to shut her up about Guy’s death and Desmond’s attempted mu
rder. My mother never forgave you.”

“Please understand that I didn’t have much time before the whole household came ru
nning because of the gunshot. Joanne was totally hysterical. I had to be harsh, to shock her into obeying,” reasoned Dreux. “So I ordered her not to say a word and let me explain how it was Desmond’s fault. I warned her that if she said anything bad about me or Desmond, I’d say she shot him by accident because she was playing with a gun that he tried to take away. Who would the police believe? A respected grown-up lawyer or a little girl covered in blood? Did she want to be arrested?”

“So that’s why she said, ‘I was trying to stop him,’ and then clammed up,” muttered Tess. “But why keep the secret once she was older and realized you had no power over her?”

“But I did have power over Emily, you see, and Joanne wouldn’t hurt her mother. I knew Emily’s nasty little secret from the beginning,” smirked Dreux. “You only learned of her crime recently.” He absentmindedly juggled the rock in his hand.

“What crime?” Tess frowned. “And what are you doing with that rock?”

“This rock? Oh, there’s a little alligator over there right next to the path. Not dangerous, but I don’t want to trip over him in the dark. I’m going to toss this rock at him before I leave to see if I can scare him into the water.”

“I didn’t see an alligator,” exclaimed Tess
. She peered into the dark but was unable to distinguish the outline of any reptile in the gloom. She ignored the distraction and returned to her interrogation of Dreux.

“Tell me what secret my grandmother could possibly have to cause her to sacrifice the feelings of her own daughter,” she insisted.

“Just think a moment. As you know, old Roman amended his will right before he died to add a bequest to his natural son Noah. Guy destroyed that document and convinced the witnesses, his devoted staff, to keep mum. But I had a copy. It was my insurance policy against Joanne and Emily telling tales. If she or Joanne dared impugn my character or Desmond’s character, I would blacken Emily’s name in turn by revealing that she had stolen Noah’s inheritance to keep herself and Joanne in comfort – plus forcing her to make expensive restitution to Noah and his heirs. Perhaps worst to her mind, her beloved Guy’s shining memory would be tarnished. He would be revealed as a lying thief. Emily forced Joanne to keep quiet. There was a lot to lose and nothing to gain from the truth.”

“How did you get your hands on that copy of the will?” demanded Tess. “Remy told me you gave it to him.”

“Actually, the will came to me through Desmond. Dear Bea Cabrera must have muscled Roman into altering his will as he was dying of cancer, and she kept a copy. When Guy destroyed Roman’s changed will, she didn’t dare speak up and reveal her connection to Noah and Roman. Once her husband, legitimate son and Guy were all dead, she only had Noah left as the focus of her rather miserable life, and she made it her new maternal obsession to ensure his future with the Cabrera inheritance. She gave him her copy of the will, although she made him promise to keep her own maternity a secret, of course.”

The last source of the “bayou house” tension was explained, Tess realized. Bea knew Emily had stolen her illegitimate son Noah’s patrimony, but she was silenced by her own secret.

“Bea’s interference backfired.” Dreux continued with grim smile. “Noah went to Desmond with the will first. Desmond was not surprised at Noah’s relationship to Roman, of course. He was so delighted at the chance to blacken Guy’s name that he revealed his long-tem knowledge of Noah’s paternity and then crowed that, now that he had gotten rid of Guy, Noah could make his revenge on the Cabreras complete. It was a disastrous mistake. Desmond didn’t consider Noah’s reaction. Noah was horrified. His ‘best friend’ had used him in a vendetta against his half brother. His best friend was claiming culpability in the murder of his half-brother. Noah refused to cooperate and broke off his friendship with Desmond. Desmond hoped he’d cool down, and if not, he intended to force the issue by going public against Noah’s wishes. Before he could act, the poor misfit Noah shot himself.”

“Why didn’t Bea or Desmond continue to seek an inheritance for Noah’s heirs?” asked Tess.

“Desmond didn’t see Noah after their falling out and never knew he had married. He thought the chance to dispute Guy’s legacy ended with Noah’s death. Bea didn’t care about Noah’s child by some trashy girl,” concluded Dreux. He stopped talking and fixed Tess with cool, speculative eyes.

Some things did
not add up, Tess brooded. A connection between Dreux and a syphilitic hustler seemed fortuitous but improbable, for example. How did a dapper corporate lawyer take a walk on the seamy side of New Orleans and happen to meet an enemy of his enemy? Insight came suddenly.

“You’re lying, and my mother figured it out,”
asserted Tess. “I was asking myself how you knew about Lamour. You moved in completely different worlds. Lamour wouldn’t publicly mix with your friends or your clients. The only explanation that makes sense is that
you
were
Lamour’s
client
, one of the people my grandfather needed to contact about the disease. I think you
purposely
sent Lamour to my grandfather’s house to kill him.”

“What a farfetched tale,” said Dreux
mildly. “Why would
I
want to kill Guy Cabrera?”

“Because he might tell Desmond about your secret life,” asserted Tess. “Desmond made you a success with his social approval, but he wouldn’t associate with a known homosexual, would he? You decided to kill two birds with one stone
; Lamour’s crime would shut up Guy and please Desmond.”

“My dear Miss Parnell, you seem to see me
as a dangerous man,” murmured Dreux. “I hope you have not shared your theory with others who know me and would be shocked by such a claim.”

“You’ve been hiding in plain sight, haven’t you? No one ever connects meek Phil Dreux
with violence.” Tess exclaimed. “But my mother was afraid of you. That’s why she bought a gun
the day before she was meeting with you
. She wouldn’t be afraid based on what
you
say happened in the library. So you’re also lying about your role in Desmond’s death.”

Suddenly, there was a whistling sound and a flash followed by an echoing boom. The w
ater blossomed in a great golden chrysanthemum of light. They both glanced up as a succession of glittering balls exploded outward in red, white and blue. Distantly, the band played a patriotic medley.

“The fireworks have started,” remarked Dreux, gazing calmly into the sky.

Tess was experiencing a different sort of illumination. “My mother was afraid of you because of what happened in that library,” she said slowly. “You say you were trying to protect her, grabbing for the gun as she was pinned between you and Desmond—” 

She stopped and
then spoke with sudden conviction. “You weren’t trying to get Desmond’s gun. You were trying to hold her while Desmond aimed.” She fixed Dreux with a hard, challenging gaze.

Dreux stared back. “Aren’t you concerned about making accusations while standing alone in the dark with a killer who has gone undetected for 50 years?” he asked calmly.

“You aren’t armed are you?” Tess posed the question rhetorically. She would not have accused even frail Phil if she had not been confident there was no concealed weapon. When he obligingly shook his head with a small smile, she continued. “Well, I’m younger and stronger, so you won’t overcome me with your bare hands. I also don’t think you’re crazy enough to court arrest. Tony knows we came this way, and so do people at the first dock.”

Whistles, crackles and deafening booms heralded more pyrotechnics in great cascading fans of silver and magenta. “Very nice,” murmured Dreux approvingly, his eyes trained on the show overhead. The flickering, flashing colors bathed his uplifted face. “I’m going to move a li
ttle closer to the end of the dock so the trees obscure less of the display,” he remarked and shuffled several feet.

Tess automatically followed him, impatient with his delaying tactics. She felt so near to the truth about her mother’s last hours that she could taste its bitter tang in the gunpo
wder-laden air. She wanted to shake the truth from the old man teetering ahead of her, his eyes blinking up at vanishing sparks.

“Do be careful, Miss Parnell. It would be easy to catch one of those sharp heels in the spaces between the planks,” he tossed over his shoulder as he reached the end of the little dock.

Tess decided that it was time to show her cards and see if she could call Dreux’s bluff. “Look, I don’t want to see you prosecuted,” she reassured him. “I don’t have enough proof to dispute your version of events. You gave a falsely appreciative patient the home address of his doctor. You covered up facts in an accidental death to spare a little girl. You didn’t intervene in someone else’s inheritance dispute. People have committed suicide after a chat with you. Even a signed confession to all of that wouldn’t put you in jail. My mother’s story will be dismissed as the confused memory of a traumatized child. I don’t want to punish you. I just want to know the truth about my mother’s last hours,” Tess pleaded.

Dreux was silent and then nodded his head as if coming to a decision. “You are wiser than your mother,” he commented at last. “It’s funny you should mention a signed confession. Your mother wanted that, you know. She wanted written acknowledgement that she was the real victim in the library. She wanted me to admit Desmond tried to kill her.”

“How far did you go to shut her up this time?” demanded Tess, grim scenarios blooming in her mind.

“It was she who went too far. Our meeting started well, with wine and hors d’oeuvres and discussion of the property by the river. But then Joanne, of course, focused on her obsession with the day of Desmond’s death. She had no proof of her beliefs so she wanted me to sign a statement that she
had prepared. It didn’t really explain her father’s murder, but it did make Desmond the villain in the library, and I suppose implied some complicity on my part. The threat of revealing the suppressed will didn’t work since Emily was gone. Your mother had less tender feelings about her father’s reputation, and she may have thought her new oil and gas prospects from the property would cover any restitution demanded by the Cabiracs.”