French Quarter (41 page)

For once Wilson Lamar chose the right time to put in an appearance. As soon as he saw them all, he had eyes only for Celina. Jack felt an insane desire to punch the man’s nose.

“I’m going to talk to Daddy,” Celina said. “He’s probably had too much to drink. This isn’t the first time he’s locked himself away and made threats about killing himself.”

“Oh, how can you?” Bitsy wailed. “We’ve never been on the brink of such disaster before. You know how bad it is, don’t you, Charmain? You talked to him before you came over.”

“You do have a way of showing up before the bad news hits, Charmain,” Wilson said, his mouth turned down. “I’m starting to wonder what comes first, you or the bad news. Or perhaps you
are
the bad news.”

“What does that mean?” She faced him. “Just what does that mean, Wilson?”

“You got to my house to commiserate with me about Sally’s death almost before the police left. How do you explain that?”

“Damn you,” she said. “I...I heard it on the radio.”

“It wasn’t on the radio yet,” Wilson pointed out.

“Police radio,” Charmain said. “Reporters live with them, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“Always around,” Wilson said vaguely. “Always...close. You took it, didn’t you?”

“Shut up, you fool,” Charmain hissed. “We can talk later.”

“Why didn’t I think about you taking it. You were at the party. You probably followed me, then took the film out of my closet.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m going to Daddy,” Celina said, and pushed passed the pair. Jack followed her to a door where a line of light showed at the bottom.

“It’s Celina,” she called out, tapping. “Can I come in, Daddy?”

“Are you alone?”

She glanced at Jack, who nodded and drew back.

“Yes.”

“I’m goin’ to end it all, girlie. It’s all goin’ to come out, and I can’t face the talk.”

Jack had started to edge away, but now he held his ground. “Hush,” Celina said. “It can’t be as bad as that.”

“It’s worse, baby. Your daddy thought he could do what was best for you—best for all of us. But I made a mess of it.”

“Let me in.” Panic loaded her voice. “Open the door, please. I want to come in.”

“I never want you to see ugliness because of me,” Neville Payne said. “I’m just goin’ to finish it. Then they can send in the professionals. They know how to deal with these things. You look after your mama. She isn’t strong. She’s not used to dealin’ with difficult things. Above all, you shelter her from the talk there’s goin’ to be, hear?”

“I hear” Celina said quietly. She bowed her head and leaned on the doorjamb. “We can work this out. Whatever it is, we’ll work it out. Don’t do something silly, please. We need you.”

“If you needed me, you wouldn’t have married that gangster. You’d have stayed with your own kind and married the one man who could have given us all back the life we used to have. He’s clever. And he wants you so much. He’d have found a way to keep all this quiet, but now it’ll come out, and I can’t take that.”

Jack wanted to ask what the hell the man was talking about, but knew better than to interfere now.

“You shouldn’t have told Errol about Wilson, baby. That was stupid. People like us stick together. And Wilson didn’t mean to hurt you. He wanted you real bad—he always wanted you real bad. And he was getting rid of that wife of his when everything went completely wrong. He would soon have had all the evidence he needed to divorce her without hurting his campaign, and marry you.”

“I’m not carrying on a conversation through this door anymore,” Celina told Neville. “Either open up, or I’m leaving. You aren’t making any sense.”

“You told Errol Petrie that Wilson had...Well, you told him, and Errol came to me expectin’ me to take action against Wilson. I couldn’t do that. I told Wilson. He told me what I already knew. Errol had to go. Your fault, baby, for not keepin’ your own counsel the way you were taught.”

Jack saw when Celina held her breath.

“I had to wait for Wilson’s own wife to get out of Errol’s bed before I could go in there. She was an animal, a sex-crazed animal. Tied him up and everythin’. I was afraid she wouldn’t leave while there was still time before mornin’. I did it. I did it good, but Wilson talked too much and that Bienville bitch knows and she’ll use the story. She came and told me she would.”

When Celina raised her face, Jack was appalled at her pallor. She settled her dark eyes on him for an instant, then pummeled the door to Neville’s study and yelled, “Let me in! You killed Errol? My God, you’re mad. Let me in now!”

An explosive sound of breaking glass galvanized Jack. He threw himself at Celina, knocking her to the ground and covering her with his body.

A man’s voice raised in screaming sobs shook him. He inched along, away from the door, with Celina beside him. “Stay where you are.”

He looked up and over his shoulder at a cop with gun drawn. A gun aimed directly at Jack’s head.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jack said. “Would you like me to raise my hands?”

“Don’t raise anythin’.” The gun wavered slightly, and Jack figured this was not a seasoned member of the force. All the more reason to lie quite still.

Running feet seemed to close in from all sides. A woman shrieked. Another shouted—this one easily identifiable as Charmain Bienville, who was certain the police “couldn’t possibly know who they were pushin’ around.” Wilson Lamar blustered loudly, but evidently these officers were not easily impressed by personalities.

The cop with his piece trained on Jack spoke into a walkie-talkie and promptly told Jack to get up slowly, take “the lady” with him, and to go into the study.

Within moments Jack, with an arm around Celina, stood in Neville’s mahogany and leather domain, together with Bitsy, Charmain, Cyrus, Wilson, and Antoine. Antoine was promptly helped into a chair.

Glass from a broken French door littered the desk and the floor. Neville’s hands were cuffed behind him, and the man who held his arm was Detective O’Leary, whose expression was more than a little satisfied.

The detective parroted rights in all directions.

Bitsy crept into a chair and stared at the floor.

“I don’t need a lawyer,” Charmain said. “God, what a mess. I need the phone. My paper expects me to check in.”

“You’ll be checking in,” O’Leary said. “We’ll take you in person and you’ll check in at a place we got in mind. You won’t be writing any stories about it.”

“I only came to try to help my old friends, the Paynes,” Wilson said. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m still in shock and I’d like to get home to bed.”

“We’d all like to get home to bed.” O’Leary’s glance took in the six police officers ranged around the room. “And we will. But some things can’t be hurried. I told you we would let you know when we had what we needed, Mr. Charbonnet.”

Jack struggled with what he’d learned. “You killed Errol, Neville? Because you wanted to protect Wilson and then wait until he was free to marry Celina?”

“Shut up,” Wilson snapped. “All of you. Don’t say another word.”

“You’ve got that wrong,” Charmain said. “Wilson and I go back a long way. We’ve got an understanding, haven’t we, love?”

“Cuff her,” O’Leary said brusquely.

The officer who followed that instruction had to deal with a spirited scuffle, but he accomplished his aim. When he finally held her in front of him, O’Leary approached and said, “You’ve already been read your rights. You’re sure you don’t want a lawyer present?”

“I’ve already said I don’t need one. Now, get these things off me.”

“We have witnesses, Miss Bienville.”

She grew still. “You’re trying to make me say something that’ll make me sound guilty. I haven’t done anything.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Reed were taken into custody. They were found in the vicinity of the car where Mrs. Lamar was murdered. They say they saw the crime committed by a woman with a knife who stabbed the victim repeatedly.”

Charmain renewed her efforts to struggle free. “Let me go now, or I’ll sue your asses.”

“Charmain Bienville, I’m arresting you for the murder of—”

“I didn’t do it!” Charmain screamed until she retched. Gagging, gulping for breath, she whispered, “Those Jesus freaks did it. They followed her because they were afraid she might say something damning about their darling son. Something that would ruin their chances to clean up.”

“Who exactly did they follow?” O’Leary asked, almost disinterestedly.

“Sally, of course. Wilson knew that bitch inside out. He saw that Ben and knew he’d found what he needed. Ben’s the type Sally went for. Wilson figured she wouldn’t rest until she got him inside her pants. And he was right. And it was all working. No one would have blamed him for divorcing her after the way she shamed him. Then we’d have been together. But she had to start shooting her mouth off to the priest.” She avoided looking at Cyrus.

“Mr. Angel told us all about it,” O’Leary said. “I must admit it sounded a bit fantastic, but ambition drives people to desperate measures, so I’ve discovered.”

Charmain’s face crumpled. “I love Wilson. I’m not ambitious, ‚Just love him. I’d do anything for him.” A police officer caught her as she passed out.

“Including murder,” O’Leary said.

Forty

“Philomena wrapped the cape of stars around her and kissed the Dragon Prince. The cape wasn’t cold, but warm, very warm. And it sparkled. Philomena had always been partial to a little sparkle.

“Ahead, at the very top of the world, lay the North Pole. Philomena was disappointed to see that it was a bit frayed, and stuck together with Mickey Mouse Band-Aids in places.”

Celina smiled at Jack and adored him for his patience. They’d arrived back from the most grueling experience of her life to find Amelia too excited to sleep, and he’d found the patience to tell her the requested story.

“The very top of the pole was missing altogether, and Santa’s toy makers were chipping another one out of a block of wood in the workshops.”

Cyrus had insisted they leave Chestnut Street, and that he would remain with Bitsy, who was sedated and unlikely to awaken for hours anyway. They must, Cyrus told them, have at least some of their wedding night alone together.

Amelia snuggled against Celina, and they were both propped against the little girl’s pink pillows. Amelia said. “The North Pole’s broken because the elves keep bumping into it when they’re taking flying lessons. Santa takes their licenses away, but as soon as he gives them back, up they go again, and
bam.”

“Who’s telling this story?” Jack asked.

Amelia wiggled until she could see Celina’s face. “I told you he’s bossy,” she said.

Choosing diplomacy that might prove ultimately dangerous, Celina said, “You did. And he is.”

Jack’s green eyes grew narrow in the way she’d come to know as a warning. Fortunately she expected to enjoy any punishment he meted out.

“Go on, Daddy,” Amelia said. “Just a little bit more.
Please.”

“The Dragon Prince led the way, and Philomena walked in his footsteps because she didn’t want to get her satin slippers wet in the snow if she could help it.”

“Her slippers are green,” Amelia said. “Lily-pad green with magic water lilies on them that open when Phillymeana’s really happy. And they light up to show the way and everything.”

“Wonderful,” Celina said, watching Jack. Such a complex man, and each layer yielded something else she hugged to her with a sense of having found another treasure. She had started to feel she could belong here, that he wanted truly her.

“That’s when Nobby Gnome came swooshing down the hill on his sleigh pulled by fifteen Jack Russell Terriers.”

“Jack Russell Terriers?”
Celina said before she could contain herself.

“They’re very well suited to the job,” Amelia said. “Daddy told me. It’s because they’ve got lots of energy and they like to run around. So Nobby can’t wear them out. He’s always rushing somewhere, see.”

“Nobby Gnome swooshed down the hill on his sleigh pulled by fifteen Jack Russell Terriers,” Jack said in an ominous tone. ‘He swirled to a stop near Philomena and the Dragon Prince, opened the fur blankets at his feet, and lifted out the most beautiful elf baby they’d ever seen. `This one is placed in your care,’ he said. `Because you’ve proved that you consider love the most important gift of all, you shall take him home and if, when we meet again, this baby is strong and happy in an appropriate home you have found for him, then I shall ask you to serve me again.’ ”

“No!” Amelia said, popping to sit up again. “That’s wrong. Nobby gave the elf baby to Phillymeana and the Dragon Prince to take care of in their home, so they took the baby home and he grew strong and happy and they
still
got another one later on.”

Celina hugged Amelia, who put her face on Celina’s stomach and patted it at the same time.

Quiet, watching them thoughtfully, Jack sat still on the edge of the bed. Celina met his gaze over Amelia’s head.

Very soon Amelia closed her eyes. Celina eased her down into the bed, tucked F.P. close beside her, and pulled up the covers.

Jack stood and waited for her to come to him. He took her to their bedroom, where he locked the door.

“What a day,” he said.

“Unbelievable. There’s so much to get used to and deal with.”

“For both of us. Look, I’m going to say what needs to be said right now. When I had just asked you to marry me, I told myself I was protecting Errol’s image. That was part of it. I already wanted you—the baby was a great excuse to do something about it.”

She pulled the bedraggled orchid from her hair and twirled it in her fingers.

“You aren’t going to make this any easier, I see,” Jack said. “Okay, I can handle it. You are my wife and I want you. I want you in my life. You make me complete and I didn’t even know I wasn’t complete until I wanted you.

“Do you think you want to make this work? I mean, do you think you’ll want to stay with me even after the baby’s been born?”

The words she wanted to say were a jumble. “Yes,” she told him. “Thank you.”

He turned up his palms and frowned. “Yes, thank you? That’s it? You don’t feel more strongly about it than that?”

Celina rested a hand on her tummy and said, “I feel so strongly I can’t put it into words. You are already my life. You, the baby, Amelia. And what you just said is too much. I hoped we could make something out of what we feel for each other, but I didn’t dare hope for this much.”

Jack lowered his hands. He let out a noisy breath. “That means you want it to work as much as I do.”

“At least as much.”

He laughed, sobered, laughed again—and paced and shook his head. “Good. Great. Yes, great. Oh,
yes,
great. Absolutely great.” He closed the drapes before shedding his clothes.

She could look at him forever. Tall and straight, and strong, with green eyes that were narrowed yet again, he did things to her that made her wonder if she wasn’t a nymphomaniac.

Totally comfortable with his nakedness, he came to Celina and pulled her shirt over her head.

Promptly she attempted to cover her belly.

“Don’t,” Jack said, moving her arms and taking off the rest of her clothes. “I’ve been waiting to do this for hours. Making love to a pregnant lady who happens to be your wife is...oh, it’s so sexy.”

Celina wrinkled up her face. “The most difficult day of… well, at least of
my
life, and you tell me the only thing you’ve had on your mind is sex?”

“I’m a man. You know how base we are. And in case you’ve forgotten, this was our wedding day.”

“That was a good bit.”

Jack ran his hands over her breasts, traced pale veins with the tip of a finger. He kissed her and walked her to the bed. The backs of her knees connected with the mattress, and she toppled onto the bed. With a hand braced on either side of her shoulders, Jack leaned over her. “The wedding was a very good bit. Now comes the
really
good bit.”

THE END

Turn the page to read excerpts from Stella Camerons next eBook
, French Quarter
, and her upcoming paranormal romantic suspense
, Darkness Bound
.

Visit Stella’s website to find more of her eBooks: 
http://www.stellacameron.com/ebooks.html