Sweet Mystery (41 page)

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Authors: Lynn Emery

Tags: #romance, #mystery, #louisiana, #mystery action adventure romance, #blues singer, #louisiana author

BOOK: Sweet Mystery
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“The feeling for you was so strong, I
panicked. Deep down, I decided to leave you and keep some dignity,
rather than see you walk away.” Rae held onto him with a fervent
wish to never let go. “Even though we grew up within forty miles of
each other, we’re from different worlds.”

“No we’re not. Your father wanted you to have
a good life. Maybe he didn’t go about it the best way all the time,
but he did try.” Simon stroked her back.

“You really want to get hooked up with wild
Rae Dalcour? The one all those folks have told you about?” Rae
gazed up into his face, her eyes bright with tears. She needed so
much to hear a truthful answer to her question. The whole world
seemed to stand still for a split second.

“Baby, I was hooked that first day I set eyes
on you. Standing outside with the sun on your pretty face, your
hair soft and shiny like black cotton.” As he spoke, Simon ran his
fingers through her hair. “I don’t need anybody to tell me who you
are, Rae. I love everything about you.”

“I love you too, honey. I love you so much.”
Rae kissed him with such passion, pressing her body against his,
that they were soon breathless and dazed.

“My, oh my, I wish I could get rid of all
these bandages. Of course, there are ways.” Simon brushed his lips
against her neck.

“No way! I’m sure the doctor told you no
strenuous activity.” Rae stepped back. Concern for his health
overrode her rising desire.

“He was talking about work,” Simon
protested.

“I’ve been missing you something awful these
last few weeks, Simon St. Cyr. Trust me, you’ll need all your
strength.” Rae gave him a naughty smile.

“Have mercy! My doctor is going to have to
come up with some space age, light-speed healing techniques,” Simon
said in a raspy voice. “Or I’m just going to have to be in pain.”
He reached for her, but Rae slipped away.

“Oh, no, you’ve had a serious shock to your
body, so stay here. The more you rest, the faster you’ll heal.” Rae
made him sit again. “I’m going to bring you lunch and we’re going
to have a calm, sedate afternoon together.”

Simon let out a dramatic sigh of resignation.
“Yes, nurse.”

Rae served them both some roast beef
sandwiches and salad. She enjoyed making a fuss over Simon. His
rich, deep laughter was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard.
Nature seemed to join in their celebration as birdsong trilled from
all directions. Now and then the couple waved happily to several
friends passing in boats on the bayou.

“Do you want anything else?” Rae poured him
another glass of crème soda.

Simon chuckled. “Yes, but you all ready ruled
that out.”

“Glad to see you both smiling,” Marcelle
called out and her husband Freddie waved. Baby Felicia was perched
against her shoulder, happily sucking on a tiny fist.

“Hi.” Rae got up to meet her, and gathered up
Felicia in her arms. “How’s my sweet bébé, huh?”

“I plan to make sure this lady smiles a lot
for years to come.” Simon gazed at Rae with deep affection.

“Now that’s what I like to hear!” Marcelle
beamed at them. “But be careful, that’s how I got this little one
and four other rug rats.” She let out a robust laugh.

“Sounds good to me,” Simon said. He gazed at
Rae holding Felicia. “More love to share,” he murmured.

Rae blushed with pleasure. She cuddled the
baby close, enjoying the feel of her tight, curly hair brushing her
chin. “You better concentrate on getting well.”

“Yeah, I heard about that.” Marcelle’s eyes
grew round. She grew serious. “You okay, cher?”

“Couldn’t be better.” Simon looked at Rae
when he spoke.

“The whole town is buzzin’ like a beehive.
They say Miz Cecile had to stop Mr. Henry from beatin’ Marius with
his cane when he found out. Course he’s defendin’ him out in the
public eye, so to speak. But the housekeeper is my friend Suzette’s
second cousin’s sister-in-law. Child, she saw it all.” Marcelle
rattled off the gossip without taking a breath.

Rae settled between Simon and Marcelle in a
rocker still holding Felicia. “Have you heard the latest about the
bones they found? It’s my grandfather.”

“I heard whispers. Girl, this is too much.
You think maybe Mr. Henry did ‘em in?” Marcelle took a sip of Rae’s
soft drink.

“Rae thinks Monmon Marie murdered them,”
Simon said.

Marcelle choked on the soft drink and coughed
loudly. “Mon Dieu! You gotta be jokin’!” she spluttered.

“I’m telling you, Marcelle, it makes sense.
In the diary, she talks of vengeance for the way Pawpaw treated
her. She even wrote about that night like she saw him for one last
time.” Rae pursed her lips.

“But why haven’t they found Estelle?”
Marcelle asked.

“Around these woods and bayous? Poo-ya, a
body could be buried and never be found.” Freddie swept a hand
around at the dense vegetation to make a point.

“That’s the truth. Maybe they weren’t killed
together. Who knows? After all these years, we’ll probably never
know.” Simon made cooing noises at Felicia, which made the baby’s
big, dark eyes light up with a smile.

“Monmon wrote about Estelle with bitterness;
said she was used to having everything come to her.” Rae frowned in
deep concentration. A picture formed in her mind.

“Uh-uh, somethin’ missin’. His body is buried
right there, after fifty years. Seems like–” Marcelle paused to
munch a potato chip from Rae’s plate.

Rae stopped rocking and sat up straight. The
baby blinked at her. “Shoot! I can’t believe it!”

“What’s wrong? Did Felicia’s diaper spring a
leak? Come here, Mama’s little sweet potato.” Marcelle took the
baby from Rae.

“No... It’s crazy.” Rae paced in front of
them as Marcelle and Simon exchanged puzzled glances.

He stood up. “What’s this about?”

“She’s up to something. I know that look.
Best stand back.” Marcelle’s eyes shone with excitement.

“Thank you, thank you.” Rae hugged Simon hard
and planted a big kiss on Marcelle’s forehead. “I’ve got to get
hold of LaMar. His cell-phone number is in my office. He’s going
back take me with him this time.”

“Where? Take you where?” Simon stared at her
in astonishment. He turned to Marcelle when Rae did not answer.

“I want to be right there; yes, indeed.
Andrew can take care of things while I’m gone,” she yelled, racing
inside.

Marcelle shrugged. “I should I know? I’ll say
one thing for sure, nothing is gonna surprise me after all
this.”

Simon rubbed his jaw. “Don’t count on that,
Marcelle. I’ve got a feeling there is a lot more to come.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Rae stood in Sheriff Thibodeaux’s office,
waiting. The female deputy seemed to be gone an hour, though it had
only been five or ten minutes. Rae tried to concentrate on what she
would say; how she would act. What was going through the minds of
the others?

“This way, ma’am.”

The deputy, a blonde with a slight Cajun
accent, led Rae down the hall and into a large conference room,
which doubled as a classroom.

Henry Jove scowled at Rae when she came in.
“What the hell is going on? I don’t know why you’ve got this
dramatic scene set up, sheriff. But you’d better have a damn good
reason.”

“Yes, sir. Like I said, we got some new
information on the skeleton found and we–”

“Which should have nothing to do with the
Jove family,” Darcy shot back.

“My husband has been very sick. If he becomes
ill here with all this nonsense, I’ll hold you responsible.” Cecile
held her head high, like a queen ready to pass sentence. Her
silver-gray hair was fluffed out in short soft curls, making her
look ten years younger than her seventy-six years.

“Legally responsible. Our lawyers will sue.”
Toya seemed to relish the prospect. “And what does our family have
to do with that one?” She jabbed a forefinger at Rae.

Rae bit back a tart reply. “Sheriff
Thibodeaux suggested I be here. This does concern my family,
too.”

Simon entered the room. “I got here as soon
as I could.” He stood close to Rae and held her hand in a firm
grip, fingers laced together. “Morning everybody.”

Toya’s face went pasty. “Simon, what does
this mean?” It was clear that she was not referring to the meeting.
She stared down at his hand holding onto Rae’s so tightly.

“I think that’s obvious, Toya,” Darcy said in
a dry voice. He glanced at Rae and then turned to the sheriff. “Ten
more minutes and I’m leaving. So is my grandfather.” He glanced at
his watch.

Sheriff Thibodeaux did not appear the least
bit disturbed by his attitude. “Mr. Henry, the skeleton we found on
your property–”

“This is harassment,” Toya burst out.
“Grandfather, we should call our lawyer right now.”

“I won’t stand for this any longer.” Cecile
stood up. “Come on, Henry. We’re leaving.”

The female deputy was standing at the door
blocking the exit when Toya jerked it open.

“How dare you keep us here like common
criminals!” Toya threw a look of pure venom at Rae. “This is all
your doing. All your life you’ve been nothing but trouble. You no
good–” She started toward Rae.

Simon pulled Rae behind him in a protective
move. “Back up, Toya.”

Henry pointed a forefinger at the sheriff.
“You’d better have a damn good reason for this or I’ll see you in
court,” he thundered.

“Thibodeaux, you’ve stepped way over the
line,” Darcy said in a low, threatening voice. “I don’t think you
realize who you’re dealing with here.”

“Simon, how could you?” Toya wailed. “She’s
nothin – a nobody living in a swamp shack.”

“Everybody settle down,” Sheriff Thibodeaux
called out loudly, over the commotion. He no longer wore an
expression of appeasement. “Close the door, Deputy Zeringue.”

“Yes, sir,” replied the deputy. The door shut
with a solid thud.

“One thing you folks better understand, this
is a murder investigation.” Sheriff Thibodeaux looked around the
room at everyone solemnly. “Fifty years ago don’t matter; ain’t no
statute of limitation on murder. Now it’s almost sure that skeleton
is Vincent Dalcour. There’s a healed break in the left leg that
matches. Plus old Doc Pinson’s son still got his dad’s dental
records. It all matches up.”

“Sad for the Dalcour family, but hardly a
reason to imply we have anything to do with it.” Darcy lost none of
his poise.

“Vincent made many enemies, sheriff.” Henry
looked not the least bit sympathetic. “He had a habit of putting
his hands on what belonged to other men.”

Simon surprised them all by saying, “Not very
nice, but no excuse for murder.”

Silence fell on the room. Rae glanced at the
Joves. Gone was the aura of power; the glittering film that made
them all appear so different, and better than others. Now Henry
Jove looked like an anxious old man, worried that the past had
finally come back to haunt him.

Toya sat twisting her hands, her face drawn
with sorrow and resentment. An insecure woman craving attention
from a man whose love she had never understood how to keep. Darcy,
handsome and polished, was like one of those collector dolls with
not a hint of warmth or regard for anyone but himself. Cecile sat
back down in the imitation leather chair, looking like a wilted
flower.

Even when she had despised them most, Rae
realized that she’d held the same view of them as a kind of minor
royalty as everyone else. With that veil stripped away, she now
understood that nursing the old grievances had only given them more
power. Lucien had never learned this lesson. Then the door opened
again.

“They’re here, sheriff.” Deputy Zeringue
spoke in a voice of awe.

Several other deputies hovered outside in the
hall, speaking in undertones. There was a hum of voices as it
became clear that others in the station were just as excited.

“Unless you plan to charge me or a member of
my family with this alleged murder, we’re leaving.” Henry stood up
to his full height. “Come, Cecile.” He held out his hand to his
wife, who took it with a look of relief.

“Yes, Henry. And sheriff, don’t think you
won’t be hearing from… Ahh!” Cecile screamed. Turning pale, her
mouth worked as a keening sound came out.

“What’s wrong with you, woman?” Henry
followed Cecile’s gaze and then dropped her hand, before walking
across the room like a man hypnotized. “Mon Dieu!” he mumbled in a
quavering voice.

“Bonjour, Henri. Comment ça va?” A woman with
dark hair, streaked with iron gray, walked into the room. Her smile
was sad. “It’s been a lifetime, eh?”

“Estelle!” Henry stopped within a foot of
her. He gazed at her, as though he could not get enough of looking.
“My Estelle.” He reached out and placed a fingertip on her right
cheek.

“Not the same girl who hurt you so. No, not
the same.” Estelle gazed back at him with a look of hard-gained
wisdom.

A hush seemed to descend over the entire
station. The only sound was the soft mewing that came from Cecile.
She collapsed into the chair and sat rocking, both arms wrapped
around her body.

“She told me you were dead,” Henry
whispered.

Estelle looked at Cecile. “So that’s how you
finally got what you wanted. Not that I can pass judgment on you. I
was a faithless wife, a thief and a murderess. I am old now. God
has already punished me more any human could.”

LaMar appeared behind her. “But you didn’t
kill Vincent, Mrs. Jordan.”

“Jordan?” Henry asked.

“My third husband. None of them worth spit,”
Estelle said with bitterness.

“Wait a minute,” broke in Sheriff Thibodeaux
with a frown. “This is too bizarre and confusing.”

“An understatement,” Simon mumbled close to
Rae’s ear.

“I thought my grandmother killed Pawpaw
Vincent and Estelle,” Rae said. “That theory was way off the mark,
obviously.”

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