Dangerous Mercy: A Novel (17 page)

CHAPTER 18

Adele Woodmore sat in the parlor at Langley Manor, sipping sweet tea and studying Vanessa’s demeanor.

“You really didn’t have to come out here,” Vanessa said.

Adele patted her hand. “When Noah came to mow and told me he turned in his keys, I just knew you’d be as distraught as he was.”

“Of course I am. But what Noah doesn’t know—and you can’t tell him—is that I was just about to ask him for the keys when he volunteered them.”

“Oh?”

Vanessa wiped her eyes. “I didn’t want to. It wasn’t my decision. Ethan thinks it’s unwise to give Noah access to the manor house until his name is cleared—for the sake of the guests. But people are canceling right and left. If this keeps up, we’ll be ruined.”

“Trust the Lord, Vanessa. He’s brought you this far.”

“I know. But at the rate things are going, our cash reserves won’t last long.” Her blue eyes brimmed with tears. “You have no idea how hard it would be for Ethan to have to ask his dad and uncles for money after all the pains we’ve taken to do this right. I mean, we researched everything thoroughly before we started the renovation and were so careful to stay on budget. We got off to a great start and have been booked solid since we opened. Now all that’s about to go south.”

“You don’t know that. And no one can blame you for this sudden downturn. I’m sure the cancellations are just temporary.”

Vanessa sighed. “It’s hard to believe that the future of Langley Manor could be in jeopardy—all because of a dead man no one really knew or liked.”

Adele remembered thinking that Flynn looked like a hippie right out of Haight-Ashbury when he came with Murray to move her furniture. “I had the opportunity to be kind to him, but I essentially brushed him off because he made me uncomfortable. I’m not proud of myself.”

“He made everyone uncomfortable. No one would blame you.”

“I blame me. The Lord expects better. I could have at least approached him as a real person instead of someone I wished would leave. That certainly wasn’t an example of loving my neighbor as myself.” Adele took a sip of tea. “I have to wonder what Flynn might have been like if he’d had someone who really cared about him. There’s no point in beating myself up over it, but I’m not making the same mistake with Noah and Murray.”

Vanessa plucked another tissue from the box. “I don’t know Murray very well, but Noah’s easy to like.”

“Yes, he is. So is Murray. He wouldn’t let me pay him for going with me to get the computer. The two of us must have been a sight to behold, riding up high in his old truck.” Adele smiled, remembering. “What a delightful adventure.”

“So, you actually
enjoyed
it?”

“Oh my, yes,” Adele said. “We both did. Murray said I remind him of his grandma Sophie. Isn’t that sweet? Isabel’s uneasy that I’m becoming friends with Murray. She thinks I should keep my distance since I don’t know anything about him. How else can I get to know him if I don’t open my heart and my home?”

“Zoe mentioned that Pierce doesn’t want Grace at your house when any of the guys from Haven House are there.”

“Oh?”

Vanessa’s cheeks went from peachy to crimson. “I’m sorry. I just assumed Zoe told you.”

“She didn’t.” Adele’s mind raced in reverse. “I do remember her asking me the other day if I was expecting any of the workers to be there. I thought she was being sensitive—not wanting to overwhelm me by bringing Grace over on the same day.”

“For what it’s worth, it’s Pierce, not Zoe. He doesn’t want Grace around any of the men from Haven House. He said that even before Flynn was murdered. Of course that just strengthened his resolve.”

“Goodness, I would never put that sweet Grace in any kind of danger.” Adele shook her head. “Why didn’t Pierce just come to me? I would have at least vouched for Murray.”

“He knew you would. He respects you too much to get into a disagreement over it, and Zoe had already agreed to honor his wishes so it was a moot point.”

“I wonder why
she
didn’t tell me.”

“I don’t know.” Vanessa sighed. “And here
I
am telling you her personal business. I really thought you knew, Adele. I’m not usually a gossip.”

Adele squeezed her hand. “We both love Zoe. And you know this conversation won’t go anywhere else.”

“I appreciate that.”

“So what will you do without Noah?”

Vanessa’s eyes brimmed with tears. “We can’t let things go. We’ll have to hire someone to mow and do the basics, just until his name is cleared and the business picks up again.”

“And what if Flynn’s murder is never solved? What then?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’ll all blow over in the months to come, and we’ll feel good about rehiring Noah and having him move into the caretaker house.” Vanessa dabbed her eyes. “But we’re losing business and need to do whatever it takes to regain the confidence of potential guests—or our bed-and-breakfast business won’t survive and Noah won’t be the only one out of work.”

“It’s sad, isn’t it?” Adele said. “Noah is caught between a rock and hard place. Nothing he can say will dispel that flicker of suspicion that he might have killed Flynn. His good name is totally dependent on the sheriff’s investigation and how the media handles it.”

Vanessa nodded, a tear spilling down her cheek. “Noah saved my life. I can’t tell you how awkward and painful it was when he handed me his keys. You should have seen the look in his eyes.”

“I did, hon. That’s why I’m here.”

Sheriff Jude Prejean sat next to Deputy Chief Aimee Rivette and across from Barry Stein at an oblong table in the largest interview room. Stein’s face was drawn and pallid, his shoulders limp. Except for the silk suit and tie he was wearing, he bore little resemblance to the fierce defense lawyer who was always mouthing off in the media. Jude had little respect for the man after being subpoenaed on several occasions to testify for the defense in ways that Stein manipulated in his client’s favor. But who could not feel sorry for this shell of a man who sat across from him—a widower with two little babies?

Or was Barry Stein’s grief an act? Could he have seized the opportunity to do away with his wife by hiring someone to make it look like another bathtub killing? Was he capable of it? Did he have a motive? Nothing seemed to tie Jeanette to the other victims.

Jude folded his hands on the table. “Mr. Stein, I’m very sorry for your loss. I can only imagine how you’re feeling. I would put this off if I could. But I’m sure you know we need to ask you some questions.”

Barry gave a nod. “Go ahead. Please call me by my first name.”

“You were in New Orleans last night and the night before and stayed at the Hotel Charette. Is that correct, Barry?”

“Yes.”

“What was the nature of your business in New Orleans?”

“I have a client there. His court case comes up next week, and I was prepping him.”

I’ll just bet you were
. “Were you with this client last night?”

“I was. We had dinner in the hotel dining room at six thirty.”

“It says on the report”—Jude put on his reading glasses—“that you had a business dinner with this client and then went up to your room a little after eight.”

“That’s right.”

“Can anyone confirm you were in the hotel dining room all that time?”

Barry lifted his gaze. “Yes, of course. My client and the waiter. I charged the two meals to my room. It’s on the bill.”

“Did you leave the hotel for any reason last night?”

“No. But I did leave my room to go down to the gift shop and get my wife”—he choked back the emotion—“a box of truffles. She loved Godiva chocolate.”

“It says here you spoke with her on your cell phone at eight fifteen.”

“Correct. After we hung up, I went down to the gift shop. That’s the last … the last time I spoke to Jeanette.”

Jude paused to let Barry regain his composure and then continued. “Were you in your room between nine and eleven p.m.?”

“I was.”

“Can anyone confirm that?”

“Yes and no. I didn’t see anyone after that, but I watched a movie and charged it to my room. And I called the front desk around ten thirty and asked for a six a.m. wake-up call. The hotel can confirm that.”

“Okay, good. And according to the report, you had breakfast with the same client this morning at eight in the hotel coffee shop?”

Barry nodded. “It was during that meeting that a New Orleans police officer found me and told me about—” He put his fist to his mouth and just shook his head.

“Would you like to take a break, Barry?”

“Just give me a moment.”

“Take your time.”

Barry took a sip of water. “Okay. What else?”

“Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt your wife?”

“Everyone loved Jeanette.”

“Is it possible that someone wanted to get back at
you
by hurting her?”

“I suppose it’s possible.”

“But no one comes to mind?”

“Not offhand.” Barry seemed to be thinking. “Maybe someone will come to mind when I can think more clearly. But it’s generally the good guys I make mad, not the bad guys.”

No kidding.
“What about the other six lawyers you have working in your firm—ever get sideways with any of them?”

“Sure. But nothing out of the ordinary and nothing unresolved. We’re a team.”

“Is it usual for you to leave town to prep a client? Isn’t that the kind of thing you’d have your associates do?”

Barry loosened his tie. “This is a high-profile case. I wanted to do it myself.”

“Isn’t that hard on your family—having you gone?”

“Sheriff, what’s your point?”

“You have to admit that it’s odd you just happened to be out of town on the day your wife was murdered.”

Barry’s eyes glistened. “How dare you! I resent the insinuation! I have no idea how or why the killer knew I would be gone. All I can think about is if I’d been home, Jeanette would still be alive.”

“I’m just trying to cover all bases, counselor. Don’t read into this. So how would you describe your marriage?”

Barry sighed, his gaze moving from Jude to Aimee and back to Jude. “Let me save us all some time and just cut to the chase. I loved Jeanette with all my heart. I wasn’t cheating on her. She wasn’t cheating on me. I didn’t pay someone to kill her. I didn’t stage a copycat murder to throw off the authorities. I had no knowledge of her death prior to the police officer informing me.”

“Sir, can you think of any connection—anything—that would tie you or your wife to the other victims?”

“Not off the top of my head. I never represented Fontaine Sugar Refinery or Roux River Bank or Aubry Computer Systems. I didn’t know any of the other victims. I’m not sure what connection there could be.”

“Did your wife know the other victims?”

“No. We were just as shocked as everyone else when each victim’s name was given to the media. But we had no personal connection. At least not until now—” Barry’s voice failed. His hands were shaking. Was that from grief—or guilt?

“Barry,” Jude continued, “I’m sure it’s no surprise to you that some people find your line of work distasteful.”
Present company included.
“Have any of your mutual friends—or your wife’s friends—ever vocalized this or seem fixated on it?”

“Lawyer jokes are huge in our home, Sheriff. We can’t get together without my wife’s brothers telling the latest ones. Our friends have told plenty of lawyer jokes too, but it’s all in fun.”

“Is that a no, counselor?”

“Yes, that’s a no. I can’t always tell if the jokes are meant as a dig or just to get a laugh—or both. But if you’re asking if I have enemies who hate me enough to
kill my wife
…?” Barry’s voice cracked. “It would take someone really sick to kill a beautiful young woman with two little babies.”

“And you don’t know any sick people?”

“The sick people I know are the people I defend. Since I usually get them a good deal or get them off, I sincerely doubt any of them want to get back at me.”