Sweet Mystery (6 page)

“She’s not for you, boy.”

“So you impressed upon me back then,
Grandfather,” Darcy said in a quiet voice. “It worked. We broke
up.” He looked out the window at the expanse of green lawn in front
of the house. “End of story.”

“Good.” Henry gave a curt nod. “What about
Mouton?”

“What about him?” Darcy went very still.

“Can he be trusted? The Moutons have been
cheating our people for over one hundred years. Seems strange he
wants to hook up with Joves in a deal.”

Darcy relaxed. “He has little choice since
our property lines intersect. If he wants to negotiate with
Pantheon, he has to work with me.”

“Keep your eyes on him. You can bet he wants
more than he’s telling. And he’s just as devious as his grandfather
and father.” Henry stood up. “He won’t stop until he’s got what he
wants.”

“Mouton and I understand each other.” Darcy
brushed the front of his crisp, cotton shirt. “I know exactly how
to handle him.” He smiled up at Henry.

“Humph,” was his grandfather’s only reply as
he started to leave. “I’m going to a meeting. Hello, cher.” Henry
pecked Toya on the cheek before continuing out the door.

“Morning, Darcy” said Toya as she strolled
in. She dropped down in the chair that her grandfather had just
vacated. “I was driving by and saw your car.”

“I see.” Darcy poured himself another coffee
from the pot, which was set on a large tray on a nearby table. “How
are you this fine morning?”

“Okay. Have you talked to Simon?” she asked
in a rush. “He’s meeting with Rae. I don’t like it.”

“You don’t like Simon talking to any female,
Toya. No wonder the man headed for the nearest exit not long after
you two were married.” Darcy did not mince words.

Toya turned on him. “Let’s not get into
failed marriages, shall we? You haven’t done very well in that
area. Simon and I had our differences, but that doesn’t mean we
won’t resolve them. You, on the other hand–” She waved a hand in
the air.

Darcy smiled. “It takes a special woman to
hold my interest.”

“I suppose you’re referring to Rae Dalcour.
You enjoyed humping her in cemeteries for the thrill.” Toya smirked
at him.

“Not our rendezvous of choice. I seem to
remember you were the one caught in St. Anthony Cemetery at the
tender age of fifteen with Roy Ballantine huffing away. Ring a
bell?” Darcy lifted an eyebrow at her.

“Oh, shut up.” Toya wore a tight expression.
She fixed herself a cup of coffee. “The point is I don’t want that
woman anywhere near Simon. For some reason I’ll never understand,
she draws men to her like flies to a cow patty.”

“Rae has a quick wit and she’s pretty – a
nice package.” Darcy looked thoughtful. “I’m not sure how she’d
react to me or I’d–”

“You’d what? Don’t tell me you still find her
attractive? Oh, please.” Toya got up to pace.

“We clicked like crazy. I still don’t
understand it.”

“You’re not by yourself, believe me.” Toya
stood over him. “Don’t forget what Grandfather thinks about you and
her.”

Darcy grinned. “I don’t give a rat’s ass what
Grandfather thinks these days.”

“Brave words now that he’s long gone, Darcy,”
Toya sneered at him. “You just remember to stay away from her.
You’re not even divorced from that last moron.”

“Katherine and I will be divorced by October.
I’ll be free.” Darcy frowned. “As for Simon, he’s strictly
interested in business. But maybe I’ll test the waters. It would be
nice to see her again.”

“And what will your latest friend think of
all this? I mean, you finally got Katherine out of the way.” Toya
sat down again, a wicked gleam in her eye.

Darcy gave her a cold look. “I don’t know
what you mean.”

“Don’t you?”

“Careful, Sister, I’ll only take so much.”
Darcy’s jaw muscle jumped.

“Darcy, your sex life, interesting as it is
in its variety, is your affair.” Toya stared back at him without
flinching. “But we could get very rich with this Pantheon deal.
Don’t get so devious that you outsmart yourself. Ellis Mouton is
nobody’s fool.”

“I know exactly what I’m doing. Haven’t
Grandfather and I always taken care of you?” Darcy gestured to her
three-hundred-dollar Coach purse. “You’ve had the best of
everything all your life. I won’t do anything to jeopardize the
family’s financial health.”

“See that you don’t. As you say, I’m used to
the finer things, which includes Simon. Keep him away from Rae,
Darcy.” Toya reached out to clutch his wrist.

Darcy patted her hand. “I intend to get that
property. As for Simon, he’s not going to be interested in her. You
know how he is. Conventional.”

* * *

Henry’s wife, seven years his junior, looked
older than her seventy years. Her light skin, the color of country
cream, was lined with care. She sat across from Henry at the large
dining-room table.

Pauline, the lady who cleaned and cooked for
them three times a week, stuck her head though the door that led
down a short hall to the kitchen. “Y’all need anything else, Miss
Cecile?”

“No, Pauline. We’re fine.” Cecile nodded her
head in a regal manner. “You can go now.”

“Okay. I left some tuna salad in the ice box
an’ French bread is on the counter.” Pauline withdrew.

Cecile waited until she heard the sound of
the back door slam. “The Dalcour girl is in town.”

“Yes.” Henry continued to spoon the hot corn
and shrimp soup into his mouth. He paused to pat his lips.

“They seem to sprout back like weeds, those
people,” Cecile said with distaste.

“Hmm, Darcy knows what do to.” Henry did not
look at her.

“The stories are already being raked up
again, as though I haven’t heard enough about Estelle–” She stopped
at the steely look he gave her.

“It doesn’t matter. Simon will buy the land,
Rae will go back to the wasteful life she was leading, and that
will be the end of it.” Henry spoke in a measured tone. “Darcy has
it all worked out.”

Cecile put her spoon down. “Why can’t Marius
be in charge for once?”

“Darcy has more skill in business,” Henry
said. “We’ve been through this before.” He went back to his
meal.

“Marius is just as smart as Darcy, Henry. You
know that very well. You should not show such favoritism just
because...”

“Woman, don’t start nagging me again. Can’t I
get peace in my own house?” Henry threw his napkin on the
table.

“You’re hardly here. If I’d known when we got
married–”

“Cecile, you’ve been whining for forty years.
Give it a rest.” Henry stood and walked from the room with Cecile
right behind him.

“I’ve given you everything and how do you
repay me?”

Henry spun to face her once they reached the
living room. “You never complained about the jewelry, cars and
trips.”

“Things! All you ever gave back were things.”
Cecile swallowed hard.

“Be satisfied. You’ve got what you wanted and
more.” Henry lit a cigar.

“Have I?” Cecile spoke with bitterness. “You
still hold onto that woman’s memory, hugging it to you at night.
She was between us every time you touched me.”

“Don’t talk foolishness.”

“You favored Estelle’s son over my children.
Now you’re favoring Darcy over my grandchildren. I won’t have it.”
Cecile grabbed his arm.

“You don’t have a damn thing to do with my
business decisions.” Henry jerked free of her hold.

“No, I’ve kept quiet all these years, but the
whole town will be interested to know where you got a sudden
windfall of cash back in 1963 to expand the business.” Cecile gave
him a nasty smile.

“Shut up!” Henry snapped. “I’m sick of
listening to you. I’ve put the most expensive clothes on your back
and sent you on trips all over this country, even to Europe.”

“So you could shack up with your sluts! I
know about every one of them. They were glad to rub my face in it,”
she shouted back.

“If you’d done your job as a wife, I wouldn’t
have needed other women,” he spat at her.

Cecile collapsed onto the sofa with a moan of
anguish. “How can you be so cruel?”

“You clawed for years to get me, so
congratulations.”

“I loved you, Henry, even after you
humiliated me in front of the whole town by marrying Estelle.
Everyone knew we were engaged.” Cecile spoke as though these were
events that had only happened in the past few weeks.

Henry gave a snort of derision. “How long
will you try to milk that for sympathy? Silly woman.”

“You never stopped loving Estelle. Even
after–”

“Enough!” Henry roared. He stood over her
with a look of dark fury, both fists raised. “This family has
prospered because of my hard work. No one, Estelle, no one, will
threaten everything I’ve built.”

Cecile looked defeated as tears rolled down
her cheeks. “You called me by her name again.”

Henry looked shaken and pale. He pulled a
hand over his face. “You’re mistaken.”

“You did.” Cecile stared ahead bleakly.

Henry poured himself a generous serving of
Crown Royal. “Will you get off my back?” His hand trembled when he
lifted the glass. “Just leave me alone.”

“Yes, I’ll keep quiet, as I’ve done all these
years.” She heaved a sigh. “Habit is hard to break.”

“Your taste for the good life is the only
habit you haven’t wanted to break,” Henry shot back.

Cecile wiped her eyes with a tissue as she
watched him take a sip from the glass. “You’ll kill yourself
drinking and smoking, Henry. The doctor has warned you.”

“Don’t get your hopes up, woman. I’ll live a
few years longer. And make the Dalcours pay, too.” Henry wore a
stony look of determination.

* * *

Simon straightened the items on his desk for
the third time. He smoothed down his hair. Nine forty-five. She
would be there any minute. What is up with you? Simon forced his
hand away from tugging at his shirt collar. He tried to convince
himself that, like any other business meeting, he just wanted to
make the right impression.

“Here are the beignets.” Nola, his secretary,
came in with a small tray. “Mr. Auzenne just dropped them off from
the bakery. Must be a real special client,” she added, pointing to
the fresh flowers in a vase on the credenza.

“Every potential customer is special, Nola.”
Simon took the tray from her and set it down next to the coffee
pot.

“Uh-huh,” she replied. “And this office
hasn’t been so clean in a l-long time.”

“You know I clean this place up at
least–”

“Once a year, I know.” Nola laughed. “The
janitorial crew just sorta dust any tiny space not covered with
paper.”

Simon faced her with his arms crossed. “You
know I don’t like anybody moving my things but me.”

Nola held up a palm. “Hey, fine by me. I’m
here to type, do data entry and organize project schedules. If you
don’t mind operating in a landfill, who am I to argue?”

“Nola, you have the most irritating habit
of–”

“Telling it like it ‘tis.” Nola let out
another laugh in her deep contralto. “I know, boss man.” She gave
him an affectionate pat on the arm and left.

“And of not letting me finish a sentence,”
Simon called after her in a peevish tone. “Mouthy woman!” He looked
at the digital clock on the credenza. His hand was still brushing
his hair back when Nola came in again.

“Now I get it,” she said with a wink. “Yep,
you look just fine.”

“What are you talking about?”

His assistant wore a mischievous half-smile.
“Miss Raenette Dalcour is here to see you.”

“Fine.” Simon forced a neutral tone to his
voice. He went past Nola, standing in the open doorway, to the
outer office. “Good morning, Ms. Dalcour. How are you?”

Rae took his hand with a cautious expression
on her face. She wore only a little lipstick. Her hair, worn lose,
had thick waves from the braids she’d worn before. Two small,
silver combs pinned it back from her face. The sleeveless, denim
shirt and white jeans were fitting without being tight. Simon held
his breath a moment when her soft skin brushed his.

“Morning,” said Rae, following him into his
office. She waved away his offer of fluffy donuts. “Just
coffee.”

“I was sorry to hear about your father, Ms.
Dalcour.”

“Thanks.” Rae took off her sunglasses. “So
what is this proposition you mentioned the other day?” She got
right to the point.

“Well your father’s land along Bayou Latte is
a prime location for development.” Simon sat next to her, rather
than behind his desk.

“Don’t believe it,” Rae said shortly. She
drank from the cup.

Simon raised an eyebrow. “Care to expand on
that?”

“Listen, I know what happened on Bayou Verret
and Grande River when they jumped on the development bandwagon. A
bunch of fancy houses went up, right on the water, and so did the
pollution levels.” Rae stared at him as though daring Simon to
contradict the facts.

“Yes, but–”

“The natural beauty is history. Now, what you
mostly hear is the sound of jet skis and speedboats – especially in
the summer, when the new money folks from Baton Rouge and New
Orleans visit their summer homes.”

“Well the economy–”

“Sure, the tax base expanded. So did
sales-tax collections. But do we really need it? Belle Rose is
making a solid comeback with tourism, for one thing.” Rae raised a
finger.

“We–”

“Not to mention being a popular sports
destination. We’ve already got enough fishing and hunting camps,
which fill up almost all year round.”

“Can I say something, please,” Simon burst
out in a fit of exasperation. First, Nola, and now this one…

“Sure.” Rae appeared to suggest that he could
have spoken at any time. “Go ahead.” The corners of her mouth
twitched as she drank from her cup.