“Hey!” He raised his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry, okay?” He stepped out onto the porch. “I heard you moving around, and I was coming over to ask if I could borrow some coffee. Oh, and, by the way, that robe really looks good on you.”
Charlotte’s cheeks grew warm, and she stepped back onto the porch. The only noise she’d made that he could have possibly heard was when she’d flushed the toilet. Maybe she should think about adding more insulation in the wall that connected the two halves of the double.
As for the leopard-print satin robe, she still wasn’t really comfortable wearing it, mostly, she suspected, because it had been Louis’s present to her for her sixtieth birthday party. Each time she thought about Louis shopping for her in Victoria’s Secret she wanted to squirm with embarrassment.
“I meant to pick some coffee up yesterday,” he continued. “But—” He shrugged. “I never got around to it. All I need is enough for a pot.”
Charlotte walked to the door. “Come on in, and I’ll get you some.”
The moment that Louis walked into the living room, Sweety Boy squawked in protest beneath the cover over his cage.
“What is it with that bird of yours?” Louis said, glaring at the cage as he passed it. “Every time I come in, he sets up a ruckus.”
Charlotte just shook her head. “I honestly don’t know, unless you somehow remind him of his previous owner.”
“Oh, that’s just peachy. Didn’t you tell me that his previous owner had left him to starve to death and skipped out on paying you back rent he owed?”
“Well ... yeah, but if it makes you feel any better, Sweety acts that way when Madeline comes over, too.”
Louis grimaced. “Oh, right, that makes me feel a lot better,” he muttered, sarcasm dripping with each word as he followed her through to the kitchen.
As Charlotte spooned out coffee into a Ziploc bag, she noticed Louis eyeing the freshly brewed coffee on the cabinet. She zipped the bag, handed it to Louis, and once she’d put away the coffee, she poured two cups from the pot.
“Here.” She handed him one of the cups. “You might as well go ahead and have some.”
Louis accepted the cup without a protest and immediately took a sip, then smacked his lips. “Mmm, thanks. Just what I needed,” he said, propping himself against the cabinet. “Now, don’t get testy, but I couldn’t help noticing that you got in kind of late last night. Everything okay?”
Charlotte took her own coffee and sat down at the table. Normally she would have taken exception to his keeping tabs on her, but for a change, and considering the circumstances, she found it somewhat comforting. Besides, Louis might be able to help.
“No, everything is not okay,” she answered. “Not exactly.” After only a moment of hesitation, she launched right in and told him about the discovery of the skeleton in the urn, and finished up by sharing her fears about Nadia and Daniel being suspects.
For long moments, Louis didn’t respond, but she could tell he was mulling it all over in his head. Never one to mince words, he finally said, “You’re right to worry.” He shoved away from the cabinet and seated himself across the table from her. “If, in fact, those bones do belong to Martinez, Nadia and Daniel will be suspects.” He frowned. “You said that Will Richeaux is one of the investigating detectives?”
Charlotte nodded.
“Great,” he muttered sarcastically. “Not good, not good at all.”
Charlotte already half-suspected the answer, but she asked, “Why?” anyway.
Louis shot her a derisive look. “Aw, come on, Charlotte. You and I both know why, especially considering that Judith is Daniel’s sister.”
“But what about those others, those people Ricco ran around with? They weren’t exactly upright citizens. Wouldn’t they be suspect first? Besides, I thought cops stuck together. Loyalty and brotherhood, and all of that stuff. Surely Will Richeaux wouldn’t—Not just because—” But she knew he could and he would, if given the opportunity. Any man who would cheat and lie would certainly be capable of revenge.
“Aw, come on, Charlotte. Judith didn’t exactly keep it a secret why she put in for a new partner, and Willy boy got himself into hot water because of it. Not only with the captain, but word got back to his wife. Now she’s threatening divorce, or so I hear. Threatening to take him to the cleaners. Even hired herself a big-time fancy lawyer. And guess who Mr. Hotshot blames?”
Charlotte groaned. It was even worse than she had thought. She shook her head. “I knew about the affair, but Judith never breathed a word about any of that other stuff. Not to me, anyhow.”
“She wouldn’t. Too embarrassed. But one thing I can tell you. Willy boy isn’t playing games here. Judith had better watch her back. You’d better warn her what’s going down. And do it right away. She needs to know. For her sake as well as Daniel’s,” he added.
After Louis left, Charlotte skimmed the headlines of the newspaper while she sipped on a second cup of coffee. Not sure whether to be glad or disappointed, she didn’t find anything about the urn or the bones.
In the living room, as she uncovered Sweety Boy’s cage, Louis’s words played through her mind.
You’d better warn her what’s going down. And do it right away. She needs to know.
She glanced at the cuckoo clock, then eyed the phone. Only seven o’clock. No way could she call Judith at seven on a Saturday morning.
So what now? She eyed the phone again.
Take a walk. Clear your head. And think.
Throwing on a pair of sweatpants, a T-shirt, and tennis shoes, she headed out the front door. She was halfway around the block when the sky grew even darker than before, and she felt the first drops of rain. Charlotte picked up her pace, but before she reached her house, the bottom fell out and she got soaked through and through.
A hot shower, dry clothes, and a warm bowl of oatmeal helped. By the time she’d finished breakfast it was eight, and she figured that surely Judith would be awake now.
Judith answered the phone call on the second ring, and Charlotte grimaced at the sound of her niece’s sleepy, “Hello.”
“Judith, hon, I hope I’m not calling too early.”
“No problem, Auntie.” But Charlotte could hear her yawn through the phone line. “I should have already been up, but I was out pretty late last night, following up on a lead for a case I’m working on.”
“Have—have you talked to your brother?”
“Not in a couple of days. Why? Is there something wrong? Do I need to talk to him?”
“Yes. Yes, you do,” Charlotte told her, then she went on to explain about the urn and the possibility of the skeleton being Ricco. “Daniel seems to think that Nadia will be the number one suspect. I’m just afraid that he might be a suspect, too. Louis thinks so, too,” she added. “In fact, Louis is the one who said I should call you right away, especially when he heard that Will Richeaux is the detective investigating the case.”
The silence on the other end of the phone line was deafening. Then Charlotte heard a whispered curse. “This is bad,” Judith said. “Really bad,” she said even louder. “And Daniel’s right. Nadia will be a suspect. Probably their main suspect.”
“And Daniel?”
Judith swore again. “That’s a real possibility, too. Maybe more so than Nadia.” She paused, then forcefully said, “But not if I can help it.”
“So you’re going to check into it?”
“You bet, Auntie. Just as soon as I can throw some clothes on, I’ll head over to the precinct and see what I can find out.
“Judith—”
“Look, Auntie, I’ll have to get back to you.”
“You will call me and let me know what’s going on, won’t you?”
“I’ll call.”
“Promise?”
“Yes ma’am. I promise.”
“Oh, and one more thing,” Charlotte added quickly. “Louis says to tell you that where Will Richeaux is concerned, you’d better watch your back.”
Charlotte tried to stay busy. Besides cleaning her own house, there was a week’s worth of laundry waiting to be washed, and she really needed to make a trip to the grocery store. If the rain ever let up. She didn’t especially like grocery shopping even in good weather, but she simply refused to go in bad weather.
In spite of all of the work she had to do and even though she kept busy, the morning still seemed to drag by slower than a Mardi Gras parade.
The phone rang only twice during the entire morning, and each time it rang, she hurried to answer it, hoping that Judith had some kind of news.
One call was a telemarketer, trying to sell her vinyl siding for her house, and the other call was a potential client. She politely but firmly told the telemarketer that she didn’t need siding, and after talking a moment with the potential client and learning that the lady lived in the French Quarter, she had to tell her that she was already booked up.
Taking on a new client meant she’d have to hire yet another employee, and that was something she wasn’t prepared to do, not at the present. Besides, extending her services into the French Quarter didn’t appeal to her in the least. She had all the work she needed right there in the Garden District,
By two that afternoon, the waiting was beginning to really get on Charlotte’s nerves big-time, and just as she’d about decided to brave the rain and run to the grocery store, the phone rang.
“Maid-for-a-Day. Charlotte speaking.”
“Aunt Charley, have you heard from Nadia?”
The caller was Daniel, but something in his voice wasn’t quite right “Why, no,” she answered. “I haven’t seen or heard from her since last night Is there something wrong, hon?”
“She’s gone then. Dammit, she’s gone.”
“Maybe she just ran to the store.”
“No! You don’t understand. She said she wasn’t feeling well, so I took Davy to the zoo so she could rest. I thought the rain would let up, but it didn’t. Anyway, when we got back, she was gone. And so is her suitcase and some of her clothes.”
“Oh, Daniel ...” Charlotte was at a loss for words.
“What am I going to do?”
“Daniel, are you absolutely sure—about the suitcase and the clothes, I mean?”
“Wait a second, Auntie. Someone’s at the door. I’ll have to call you back.”
“Daniel!” But it was already too late. He’d hung up the phone.
As Charlotte slowly replaced the receiver, she told herself that Daniel was overreacting. Maybe, even now, he was opening the door, and Nadia was explaining how she’d either forgotten her house keys or lost them. But as much as she tried to keep a positive attitude, the nagging feeling she’d had all night and all day bloomed into deadly fear. The only viable reason Nadia would have to run would be if she was guilty.
Chapter Eight
A
s Charlotte paced the floor, no matter how hard she tried to picture Nadia as a murderer, she simply could not accept that the Nadia she knew could do such a thing. There had to be another reason why she had run—if in fact she really had run.
Waiting for Daniel to call was agonizing. An hour was all that Charlotte could stand. When exactly an hour had passed, she marched to the phone and tapped out Daniel’s phone number. Five rings later, just when she was about to hang up, the call was answered.
The only word the man said was, “Hello.” But something about his voice sounded familiar.
“Is this the Daniel Monroe residence?” she demanded.
“Who wants to know?” the man demanded right back.
There was something in his tone that grated on her already stretched nerves, and some sixth sense cautioned against giving out too much information. “I’d like to speak to Daniel, please.”
“Like I said, lady, who’s calling?”
“Who is this?”
“I’m a detective with the New Orleans Police Department. Now, who are you?”
Will Richeaux.
No wonder the voice sounded familiar. “This is Daniel’s aunt. Now, may I speak to him?”
“Ms. LaRue?”