Dead and Breakfast (The New Orleans Go Cup Chronicles Book 2) (13 page)

My theory had a nagging flaw that kept me coming back to the open window. At first I’d thought Violet followed Gervais and seeing him with someone else in a bed & breakfast, while she was sleeping in her car could have pushed her over the edge. That was the night she was last seen. Maybe she killed Gervais then took off back to Chicago. As much as I wanted the killer to be Violet, this meant she would have had to enter their room shortly after they were in it—around midnight—so she could have gotten to the bar to meet her friend. My theory had two flaws. One was St. Germain’s time of death. It was very unlikely the Coroner, who had been the Coroner for umpteen years, had the time wrong. The second was someone had to be pretty strong to climb that tree and wait there until the time was right. That person might have waited a couple of hours and Violet was in the bar all that time.

Jiff’s theory was Violet manipulated Gervais with cocaine. She had a habit, she had a supplier and a constant money source. Jiff doubted she would kill him. Why would she murder her future husband? She wanted Gervais to marry her, or so she told her family. She had gone back and forth before, so he thought after her hangover, she would go back with him again.

He agreed, this left a third person who had to have killed St. Germain and tried to frame Julia, but who and why?

“Hmmm, the plot thickens,” Jiff mimicked in a Sherlock Holmes quip as he topped off our champagne glasses.

Michelle, Jiff’s other investigator, had reported to him that the members of the band close to St. Germain swore Gervais didn’t plan on marrying Violet. They did weigh in on the pregnancy saying “maybe a baby” since she went back and forth with Gervais on a regular basis, but Gervais never mentioned any paternal problems or obligations.

“Here’s another fly in the ointment,” Jiff said. “Michelle’s report also said that Maurice had had enough of Gervais’ drug use and had a lead guitar player lined up to play with them for Jazz Fest since St. Germain was often a no show for gigs or arrived wasted when he did show up. Maurice had already contracted his replacement for Jazz Fest and hadn’t told Gervais yet.”

“That must have been the guy we saw tuning up. I wonder why Maurice didn’t mention this when we first spoke with him. Maurice had to know Gervais was supposed to be staying at Julia’s B&B with them, or did he?” I said.

“One of the band members told Michele they were surprised when they heard Gervais was in New Orleans since he had not contacted them in a couple of months. If he thought he could waltz in and have his spot back whenever he wanted it, this might have caused a fight within the band. Maybe several band members were worried he’d cause problems once he found out he was being replaced. Maybe someone in the band wanted him gone badly enough to kill him and eliminate the potential problem,” Jiff said.

Violet and her car had disappeared. She could have gone missing days later, but the last time Jiff’s detective, Ernest could validate anyone seeing her was the night of the murder. The family began to speculate someone had abducted her.

The police maintained Julia was a good suspect for Violet’s disappearance as the third person in the lovers’ triangle. It didn’t help Julia that it played out in the media this way with the help of Violet’s parents.

“Violet’s parents said in an interview on the air, that Violet came to New Orleans a year ago during a Jazz Fest weekend and met Gervais St. Germain. She fell in love with him and stayed,” I said. “Violet could have wanted to kill Gervais because she discovered him sleeping with someone else. The band said she usually followed him around to thwart his attentions with other women. Maybe she felt she was losing control and if she was pregnant, and her hormones were raging, seeing him sleeping with someone else might have pushed her to kill him. It wouldn’t be the first crime of passion nor the last.”

“You’re right. Given the right circumstances and we don’t know much about Violet, she could have been pushed over the edge seeing him with someone else,” Jiff said. “How would you feel if you saw me with someone else?”

“I don’t know. I’ve really never thought about that until just now,” I said. He smiled at me and poured more champagne in our glasses.

I had to wonder, did she drive off that night leaving New Orleans and a lot of memories that weren’t working out the way she wanted them to? It would be the irresponsible thing Violet was known to do or was Violet a woman drowning her guilt for killing her lover, or mourning the end of their relationship? Had she met with foul play, or orchestrated her own disappearance? Jiff and I both thought if we found her car, then we might find her. This would help Julia by casting doubt she had anything to do with Violet’s disappearance.

Of course, it might not if Violet was found murdered.

The waiter came back to take our order and I wanted another plate of the oysters but was afraid I’d be sending the wrong message to Jiff right about now. I asked the waiter for a recommendation and I went with his suggestion of Steamed Mussels and French Onion Soup.

Jiff ordered Duck Confit, the French Onion Soup also and a Poached Scallop small plate for us to share.

“My mother loves the oysters but the scallops are my favorite and I want you to try them.”

“OK, they sound wonderful, but I don’t know if they can top the oysters. That is about the best thing I’ve ever tasted. I just don’t think I can eat all this,” I said.

“Just taste it. If you like it, you can order it next time,” he said. “But, really, save space for the dessert. I asked the chef to make something special just for you.”

“We have more questions than answers,” I said, turning the conversation back around while we waited for our dinner. “I’m really afraid if we find Violet, she might be the final piece of evidence the police will use in Julia’s conviction. I haven’t said this to anyone but Julia told me she didn’t tell the sequence of events that morning exactly like they happened. Has she told you that?”

“Like what different sequence of events?” Jiff stopped smiling at me and put his glass down on the table, giving me his undivided attention.

I explained what Julia had told me about showering and getting dressed before the police showed up. She didn’t remember the dress she wore that night was missing from the room.

“How long have you known this?” he asked.

“She told me this the day she came back after the police questioned her regarding Violet gone missing. She did say when she woke up she wasn’t wearing the dress and she didn’t take it with her when she left the room. She also said she saw blood when she showered but thought she cut herself. She didn’t realize he was dead until she went back up to the room after she dressed and made them some breakfast. I think she was drugged and her accounting of that morning is very foggy.”

“I know that and you know that, but now Julia’s facts are changing and the police have her in a lie about knowing Violet. This is going to be brutal if we don’t find Violet and who killed Gervais.”

The waiter brought us a basket of warm French bread, which Jiff handed to me and said, “You have to take a piece. It’s baked fresh here.”

I picked up and buttered the soft, warm bread. I tasted the way it smelled before ever putting a piece in my mouth. Nothing smells as good as freshly baked bread and when bakeries in New Orleans fire up the ovens the most heavenly aromas are unsuspectingly encountered while driving on the interstate or in certain neighborhoods. This French bread was distracting me from worrying over Julia’s lapse in judgment. I took a bite and sat there savoring the melted butter and crusty piece in my mouth.

“I know she should have told you all this and I advised her she needed to update you on everything now. When she told me the morning events weren’t exactly like she first said they happened I got a tight feeling in my chest. I’m not ready to believe she did it, but I’m starting to wonder what really happened in that room. I can’t even believe I’m saying this.” I put another piece of buttered bread on my plate and let it sit there working it’s magic of warming me with the baked fragrance I could taste without taking a bite.

Jiff paused and looked very pensive before he said, “It’s still a little early to make that conclusion,” Jiff said, “even though everything keeps coming back to Julia. We need to find Violet and put that piece of the puzzle in place and see where that leads us. This seems like a bunch of disassociated facts or situations that culminated the night Julia decided to live a little,” Jiff said.

“I realize her fling with St. Germain moved her from a business relationship to a personal one with him. I can see the police thinking Julia knew Violet, or knew of her,” I said.

“Brandy, I’ve had clients with a lot less evidence against them and they were found guilty. I don’t believe she did it but things look bad for Julia.”

“Why Jiff, I think you almost like Julia,” I smiled.

“You know the hotel business is tough and a lot of work. I admire her for taking it on.”

“Yes, she’s decided to open her own business so she wouldn’t have to answer to anyone ever again after her husband died. Now, she has had to answer to everybody for everything. This isn’t fair because she has to work harder and pay to prove she didn’t do it,” I said.

Our meal came and one thing was better than the next but my favorite was still the oysters. Jiff took a fork full of the scallop dish and fed it to me. It was wonderful, and having a handsome man feed me was intoxicating along with the champagne.

He topped off my glass of champagne and looked serious. “I want to talk to you about something else.”

“Sure, what is it?” I reached for my glass.

“I’d like to take our relationship to the next step.”

Uh oh, the next step in the relationship discussion. I’m glad I didn’t order the oysters.

I think my champagne glass stopped midway from the table to my lips when he said this.

“What I mean is, I’d like for us to spend more time together, maybe go somewhere for a weekend. You know, like a vacation, four or five days. I was thinking Cozumel, Mexico. I love Mexico.” Then he stopped talking and waited for my response. I knew I was in trouble.

I started thinking of my sales training. Sales taught that when you were selling something, ask for the sale, and then stop talking. The next person who talked lost. I didn’t feel like I was going to lose but I did feel like I was going to relinquish some control depending how I responded. So ask for more info on the deal, see if it’s what you really want. This was in sales, of course.

“Really? A weekend trip? When?” I asked.

He smiled. “Yes, I was thinking maybe over the 4
th
of July weekend.”

“That’s coming up soon,” I said.

“Yes, we both could use a break from all this, don’t you think?”

“I would love to take a long weekend with you, I just need a little more planning time. You know the wedding is coming up and I have expenses for that and I’d need to schedule time off.” We hadn’t spend a night together unless you could count the one Dante thought we spent together—the very short one after a long night of dancing.

“Don’t worry about the expenses, just get the time off. I’ll get the tickets and the hotel. This is my treat.”

“Oh no. I’ll pay for my airfare and half of the hotel,” I said.

“Look, you never let me pay for anything. You never ask me for anything unless it’s to help someone else, like Julia. I can barely buy you dinner when I ask you out. Most…”

“I’m not ‘most’ and I need some time to plan this if you want me to spend a weekend with you.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by that.”

I believed him. “I know you didn’t mean anything but, I’m not like that,” I said. “I pay my own way or I won’t go. Labor Day would be better for me if that works for you. By works for you, I mean, I hope you are not in the middle of Julia’s trial,” I said. “And the wedding would be over and the expenses I have with that.”

“OK, deal. I find this independent streak of yours pretty hot,” he smiled. “I don’t care who pays for what, I just want to spend some time with you in a beautiful place I think we’ll both enjoy.” He topped off our champagne glasses just as our main course arrived.

A pesky little nudge of my conscious representing Dante guilt had me wondering how this was going to work. Was I really ready to move on? Why was I even asking myself this? Jiff was everything I could ever want, and Dante hadn’t made any big attempts, or small ones for that matter, to get me back. He wasn’t even speaking to me or calling me.

I fed him a mussel that was bathed in a wonderful wine broth and he fed me a bite of the duck. If the food, the sensual vibe in the restaurant with waiters and a handsome man fawning over me was a drug then I’d be addicted.

“Are you planning on us sleeping together on this trip?” I asked.

I thought he was going to choke since I asked him while he was taking a sip. Instead, he placed his champagne glass on the table and wiped his mouth with his napkin. He cleared his throat and looked at me in the eye, “Well, I hope you would consider us finding out more about each other, and if I’m lucky enough for our relationship to take that step, then I’d be a happy man.”

“I bet you’re great in court. You are good when you are put on the spot. Fast thinker, diplomatic, cool under fire.” I smiled.

“Thanks. Was that a test?”

“Not a test, just an honest question.”