“Need me to help you tote this?” Charlotte patted the cardboard box.
Madeline shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.” She dug her keys out of her purse and handed them to Charlotte. “But I do need you to get the front door, then open the trunk of the car for me.”
She hooked her purse strap over her shoulder, wrapped her arms around the box, and lifted it off the table. “It’s not really that heavy.”
They had just loaded the box in the car and closed the trunk when Louis pulled into the driveway on his side of the double. “I didn’t know Louis was back,” Maddie said in an aside to Charlotte as she waved at him.
“That’s because he just got back this very minute,” Charlotte murmured, her eyes on Louis’s car while a crush of mixed feelings and confused emotions surged through her.
“Well, I’ve got to run, but he sure and tell him about the reception, and bring him along tonight. I sent him an invitation, but judging from that stack of mail you’ve been collecting for him, it might be tomorrow before he gets to it.”
Charlotte nodded and swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. Louis’s two-week trip had turned into almost four weeks, and the only word she’d received from him were a couple of brief postcards that simply stated that the job was taking longer than expected and he would be delayed coming home.
As Madeline backed out of the driveway, Louis walked toward Charlotte, a briefcase in one hand and a suitcase in the other.
Charlotte nodded. “Welcome home, stranger.”
By unspoken mutual consent, they both walked toward the steps.
“It’s good to be home,” he responded, following her up the steps onto the porch. “So what’s been happening? Any breaks yet on the Ricco Martinez murder?”
Charlotte froze, then turned to stare at him, a puzzled frown on her face.
“Have they found the real murderer yet?” he asked.
“Oh, my dear Lord, you don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?”
“It’s a long story.” Charlotte motioned toward his luggage. “Go put your stuff away, then come over to my place, and I’ll catch you up. I’ll make a fresh pot of coffee.”
By the time Louis entered her kitchen, the coffee had brewed. “I take it that huge stack of stuff on the front table is my mail.”
Charlotte nodded. “I meant to bag it up for you, but—” she shrugged, then handed him a cup of coffee.
“I really appreciate you collecting it for me.” He settled at the kitchen table, and after he’d taken a sip of his coffee, his expression grew serious. “Okay, now tell me, what’s happened?”
Charlotte sat opposite him at the table. “First of all, the bones didn’t belong to Ricco Martinez after all.”
“No kidding!”
“Nope.”
“So—is Martinez alive or dead, and who the heck did the bones belong to?”
Charlotte sighed. “Like I said, it’s a long, convoluted story. If you remember, Ricco was arrested way back when as part of that gang that was stealing cemetery artifacts.”
Louis nodded.
“Well, guess who hired him to steal the stuff?” When Louis shrugged, Charlotte told him, “Patsy Dufour.”
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Why on earth would someone like Patsy Dufour dirty her hands with that type of thing?”
“Revenge. Pure and simple. Patsy was out for revenge against Lowell Webster.”
Louis frowned. “What the devil was her beef with Lowell Webstef?”
Charlotte rolled her eyes. “You’re not going to believe this.”
By the time that Charlotte finished the story about Patsy’s past relationship with Lowell and her botched abortion, Louis was shaking his head. “My, my, my. Who would have figured? Guess the old saying’s true after all. ‘Hell hath no fury like a—’”
Charlotte shot him a don’t-even-go-there look, and Louis abruptly bit off the rest of the saying. “Okay, so Patsy’s out for revenge. But why go to all that trouble? Why not just call in the press?”
“Good point,” Charlotte said. “My guess is that if she’d called in the press, her name and reputation would be involved. Guess she didn’t want that kind of attention. But, then, who knows?”
“Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” He waved a hand for her to continue.
“Anyway, Patsy found out that Ricco and Mark Webster were friends and that they’d had a falling out.”
“The argument Nadia told you about,” he clarified.
Charlotte nodded. “That’s the one.”
“So how did Patsy know about it?”
“Because of Nadia,” Charlotte answered. “When Mark wouldn’t pay up, Ricco took out his frustration on Nadia. Patsy spotted Nadia’s bruises. One thing led to another—anyway, that’s how Patsy learned about his association with the Websters.
“So once she found out about the disagreement,” Charlotte continued, “she tried to persuade Ricco to get his revenge against Mark—which was really her revenge against Lowell—by having Ricco implicate Mark and Lowell in the cemetery thefts. She even offered to pay Ricco. At first he went along with it, and he did make sure some of the artifacts were moved into Lowell’s warehouse. But about that time was when he was arrested.
“Once Daniel got him out of jail, Ricco turned the tables and tried blackmailing Patsy. When that didn’t work, he went to Lowell and told all, hoping to garner Lowell’s favor.”
Louis shook his head. “Big mistake.”
“Yes—yes, it was,” Charlotte agreed. “For years Patsy had been a thorn in Lowell’s side, and evidently this wasn’t the first stunt she’d pulled. Anyway, after what Ricco told him, Lowell decided that something had to be done about Patsy. Apparently, he decided that Ricco was a liability as well. He came up with a scheme to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. He instructed Will Richeaux to—”
Louis threw up his hand. “Whoa, hold up. How did Will Richeaux get involved?”
“It seems that Will Richeaux has been moonlighting for years, doing a lot of dirty work for Lowell.”
Louis closed his hand into a fist and thumped the tabletop with his knuckles. “I knew it! I knew he was dirty. I just couldn’t prove it.”
“Yes, well, he’s not dirty anymore. He’s not anything anymore but dead.”
Louis raised both eyebrows. “Dead, huh? Humph! Good riddance to bad rubbish.”
Charlotte swallowed hard and felt like squirming. “That’s another story,” she murmured.
When Louis gave her an expectant look, she shook her head. “Another day. I’ll tell you about that another day.”
She could tell Louis didn’t want to leave it at that, but to give him credit, he didn’t push it. “So ... you said something about Lowell giving Will instructions. What kind of instructions?”
“Actually, two sets of instructions. First of all, Lowell put out a hit on Ricco, and gave specific instructions for Ricco to be stuffed in the urn that was in his warehouse. And, second, since he knew about Patsy’s penchant for old statues and things, he told Will to pretend to be a dealer and make sure that she ended up with the urn. Either he figured that the bones would be discovered eventually, or he paid the workers to make sure the urn cracked. Whichever, he meant it to be a warning for Patsy to leave him alone or else.
“Only problem with his scheme was that somehow Ricco found out about the hit. Ricco knew the hit was going down when Mark called and wanted to set up a meeting at the warehouse to supposedly pay back the money he owed Ricco.”
Charlotte sighed. “I guess Ricco wasn’t as dumb as I thought he was, after all. He went out and found a homeless man who was about his size and had the same color hair and so forth. Then he paid the homeless man to wear his clothes and go to the meeting, promising him more money later. Sure enough, the hit man was waiting in the warehouse, and, thinking the homeless man was Ricco, he killed him.”
Louis whistled long and low. “And of course Ricco had left his billfold inside the jacket pocket for proof.”
Charlotte nodded. “Yep, and then Ricco hightailed it out of town. But not for good.” Charlotte went on and told Louis about Davy’s dreams. Even now, a whole month later, it made her shiver to think about Ricco sneaking into Nadia’s home to see Davy without Nadia ever being the wiser.
“But he sneaked back into town one too many times,” she said. “The last time was when the urn and the bones were discovered, and Daniel and Nadia were accused of the murder.”
“Now it all makes sense,” Louis said. “No wonder Daniel was railroaded. Wasn’t Jonas Tipton the judge who denied Daniel bail?”
When Charlotte nodded, Louis nodded too. “It figures,” he said. “That old geezer is one of the uppity-ups who’s been pushing for Webster to run for mayor.” He waved a hand. “So?”
“So about that time was when Ricco grew a conscience. Guess nobody’s ever all good or all bad. Anyway, with him supposedly dead and Nadia accused of his murder, that would leave Davy an orphan, so he attempted to make a deal with the police to try and clear Nadia and to stop Lowell for good. Only problem was that he tried to make a deal with the wrong policeman.”
“Let me guess. Will Richeaux.”
Charlotte nodded. “Richeaux told Lowell, who then instructed him to kill Ricco himself. Evidently, he tried and missed, because even after Richeaux got killed, Ricco still went after Lowell. He figured that Lowell would just keep sending someone after him and the only way he’d survive would be to kill Lowell.
“And he did kill him, but not before Lowell stabbed him with a letter opener.” As Charlotte filled Louis in on the rest of the story, it was hard to gauge his reaction to the part about Davy’s last visit from Ricco.
Finally, all that he said was, “Poor little guy. It’s a good thing he’s got Daniel. One of these days, when he’s older, he’s going to need a strong man to help him understand it all.” He shook his head. “What I want to know is who in hell pieced it all together? Judith?”
Charlotte gave him a level look. “Part of it. But most of it came from Ricco making a deathbed confession.”
For the time being, Charlotte didn’t see any use in telling Louis about her part in it. “Like I said,” she continued, “somewhere along the way he grew a conscience, so he asked for a priest before he died. But he also gave permission for Judith to hear it.”
Charlotte figured that eventually Louis would find out all the details about her involvement. But for now, she really didn’t want to hear any lectures from him about it. She’d heard enough from Judith and Hank to last her a lifetime.
Besides, she thought, as she lowered her gaze to her empty coffee cup, all the guilty parties had been dealt with, one way or another. Even Patsy, who would end up serving time in jail not only for assault but also for her part in instigating the cemetery thefts.
What goes around comes around and people get paid back for what they do
. Charlotte sighed. Once again, the old adage had proved to be true ... thank goodness.
“So much for good intentions,” Charlotte murmured that evening as she glanced at her watch.
She was later getting to Daniel and Nadia’s reception than she’d planned. She had hoped to get there early enough to help out wherever needed. But by the time she entered the hotel ballroom, most of the guests had already arrived, and from the looks of the place, everything seemed to be running smoothly.
Music from a string quartet provided a gentle background for the buzz of the chattering guests, and Charlotte noted that the wedding planners Nadia had hired had done a superb job of decorating the ballroom.
The whole room resembled a spring garden, complete with several trellises and gorgeous baskets filled with spring flowers. Each of the small round tables along the sides of the ballroom was covered with a pristine white tablecloth and decorated with even more flowers.
There was a wedding-cake table, a punch table, and several other tables that were filled with all kinds of food. The overall effect was simple yet elegant.
Had Louis come? she wondered as she glanced around the room. She’d told him about the reception and made sure he knew that he was invited when he’d left her house earlier. On his way out, though, all he’d said was that he was tired and had a lot to take care of after being gone for a month.
And just why does it matter so much whether he did or didn’t come
? Charlotte ignored the nagging question and continued to search the room, this time looking for her family. Then she spied Hank striding toward her. Dressed in a tuxedo, he was the spitting image of his father. As always, the sight of him filled her with love and pride, yet at the same time caused an ache of regret deep in her heart for what might have been if his father had lived.
“Hey, Mom,” he said and leaned down to kiss her on the forehead. “I was beginning to get worried about you. Why so late?”
“Sorry you worried, hon. I was ready to walk out the door when I remembered that I’d let Sweety out of his cage earlier. Then I couldn’t find the little rascal. And after his mishap in the shower that time, I don’t dare leave him out of his cage when I’m not around.”