Kiss Them Goodbye (18 page)

“People” meant Thea. Vivian and Charlotte had discussed doing short-term rents but only between themselves and around this house. These freight trains kept barrelling through Charlotte’s life. But why not rent Wazoo a room, at least until she proved it was a bad idea. “That might do very well. You may have to move as the work is done. We’ll work out the rent and we need to talk about your salary. What if you get the room and a smaller paycheck in exchange?”

Wazoo looked as if she’d won the state lottery and for a moment Charlotte was afraid the woman would kiss
her, but Wazoo’s eyes shifted away to the window and Charlotte turned her head to see Susan and Olympia Hurst passing on their way to the front door.

“I’ll answer for you,” Wazoo said, bubbling.

Charlotte thought to refuse the offer, but changed her mind. She didn’t have to impress Susan and her offspring, unless it was with the Patin independence. “Thank you, Wazoo.”

When Susan Hurst recovered from the evident shock of being greeted by Wazoo, she poked around the room. Charlotte wished she could leave at once.

Olympia Hurst was too old for her behavior. Dressed in a pink sundress that barely covered her panties and which laced at the top to reveal a good deal of her large breasts, she slid into a scarlet silk slipper chair and propped her hands behind her head.

“Olympia,” Susan chided, in the process of examining an old silver box with stones, or pieces of colored glass, studded in the top. “That’s not ladylike. Sit up and pull your dress down. Really darling, you’ve got to learn what to do with that beautiful body of yours if you’re going to reach your full potential.”

Olympia yawned dramatically and flipped at her long, blond hair. “I know what to do with my body, thank you, Mama. Women of my age usually do. Ability in that direction doesn’t usually fade until much later.”

Susan ignored her and tried to open the box.

“It’s locked,” Charlotte said, amused. “Always has been but it doesn’t look like a good place to hide treasure d’you think?”

“No,” Susan agreed and quickly put the thing down. “Your brother-in-law was really into this jungle thing. He was ahead of the curve. I believe it’s quite popular now. Not my style at all but I expect you’re going to change things here.”

“We have a lot of planning to do,” Charlotte said, not about to discuss anything private with Susan.

“Is Vivian here?” Susan asked.

“No, she’s out for the day. Did you want to talk to her? I’m sure she’ll be here tomorrow.”

“I was just makin’ conversation.”

“You know you saw her leave with that sexy Spike Devol,” Olympia said. She’d decided to loosen the lacing on her dress. “Fess up. You’re curious about whether they’re getting it on.”

“If you can’t behave yourself,” Susan said, “please leave. Go home and help Morgan.”

“I offered, but Daddy dear said he’s got paperwork to do and doesn’t need me.”

Charlotte didn’t care for the secret smile that crossed Olympia’s lips.

“Olympia’s stressed,” Susan said, dropping her red-streaked, brown hair forward, then throwing it back and shaking it into place. “She’s got months of preparing for contests ahead of her and so much work keeping that figure gorgeous and choosing clothes and taking dance lessons. It goes on and on.”

Olympia looked vacant.

“I came to talk to you, Charlotte.”

Why not, everyone else had.

“Mama, I said I’d keep you company, but not if you’re going to take so long,” Olympia said, yawning again. “Just spit it out about the police.”

“Oh, dear.” Susan perched her jean-clad bottom on a chair. “Yes, the police. Morgan wouldn’t approve of our being here, but I believe in complete honesty. It’s the best way to get things done. The police searched our house.” Her voice rose, she closed her eyes and pressed a hand to her bosom. “We actually had people in at the time and had to ask them to leave. Can you imagine our embarrassment?”

There had to be a point when a little pity would come her own way, Charlotte thought. “We’ve been dealing with a lot of that and it’s not pleasant.”

“Not
pleasant
?” Susan rolled her eyes and gave her hair another good shake. “Charlotte, we have to talk. Seriously. Would you have dinner with us tomorrow evening? You and Vivian—and her sheriff friend if that’s what she’d like.”

Olympia’s laughter shot so high that Charlotte winced. “Oh, Mama,” Olympia screeched, pointing a long forefinger. “You old spoof you.
If that’s what she’d like.
It’s what
you’d
like.”

“Will you come?” Susan persisted, ignoring Olympia. “I’d regard it as a favor.”

Charlotte said, “Yes, of course,” partly to support Susan in the presence of her bratty daughter.

“Wonderful,” Susan said.

”
Wonderful
,” Olympia echoed. “Make sure you warn Vivian she’d better make sure Spike’s pants stay zipped.”

Susan walked to her daughter and slapped her face soundly. In the appalling silence that followed, Olympia glared hatred at her mother with dry eyes and didn’t touch the welts forming on her skin.

“I apologize for my daughter and myself,” Susan said. “I shouldn’t have struck her. We’ll have a good time tomorrow evening, I promise, and I hope we get serious businesses tended to. We must, Charlotte. There isn’t a choice anymore.”

“What do you mean?” Charlotte asked quietly. “I’m not aware of any business between us, serious or otherwise.”

Susan stared at Olympia, clearly warning her not to interrupt. “Morgan and I don’t want to take legal action against you for the trouble you’re causing but we will if we must. We think that can be averted. You have needs
and we have needs and we think they can complement each other. We believe it would make all of us happy if we bought Rosebank from you.”

T
hey’d decided to have lunch at the Court of Two Sisters. Vivian chose it for old times’ sake, half hoping memories of a prior time there with a prior male interest would help remind her of the reasons she didn’t really like men.

It wasn’t working.

It hadn’t had a chance to work once Spike walked into the place as if it were home away from home and Vivian had grown instantly jealous. Ridiculous. Of course the thought that he’d probably brought another woman there didn’t make her jealous.

Yes, it did. She felt furious. He’d become quiet, pensive. Thinking about
her.
Who had it been, Jilly? Vivian didn’t think so because Spike and Jilly were buddies and showed no sign of pining for each other romantically.

Vivian studied Spike covertly. He sat half-sideways in his chair with his arms crossed.

They were a pair, both pretending no ghosts hovered
with them at the wobbly table balanced on uneven courtyard cobbles.

Vines climbed every concrete patched brick wall and metal arbor. Fountains ran softly and flashed the colors of pale gems in the sunshine. Birds knocked themselves out in the race for crumbs. Spicy scents, a jazz trio playing low enough to stay out of the way but not too low for a little foot tapping, blasts of color, purple, orange and white bougainvillea; a warm bath for the senses. Vivian glanced openly at Spike and he smiled, deepening those smile and squint lines around his impossibly blue eyes.

“This wouldn’t be a bad moment to stop the clocks, huh?” he said.

Vivian looked at clear skies and said, “Stop the world, we’ll get off here,” but one thing was missing: peace in her heart. The thrill of wanting this man just about made up for that.

A sweet-faced black waiter with a web of gray spun over the tips of his hair poured more ice-cold water into their empty glasses. “A drink from the bar?” he asked. “It ain’t too late for the best mimosa in town.”

“I’m delicate,” Spike said, laughing. “I’ll take an Abita. A good beer is about the best I can do this time of day.”

Vivian had white wine.

They chose the buffet and she figured they were both looking to escape their thoughts and put off making more awkward conversation. They walked to loaded tables in the cool interior of the building.

Vivian was ready first and went back outside, finally starting to relax a little. Who wouldn’t in a place like this?

She approached the table but stopped several feet away, her heart missing beats. The skin on her face tightened and she felt cold. Slowly, she went closer and stood motionless at her place, unable to sit, unable to as much
as swallow. Her plate felt too heavy and her hands shook as if she might drop it.

Balanced across her silverware lay a single, long-stemmed white rose.

If her feet would move she’d probably run.

“Everything I like but shouldn’t have,” Spike said, arriving at the table. “Cyrus says he never met a bad crawfish étouffée. I say he’s sawed off his tastebuds with all those peppers he sucks back. But this is going to be a great one. Would you look at these boulette? Grown-up hush puppies my dad calls ’em.”

At last he noticed she wasn’t saying a word and still stood in front of her chair. “What is it,
cher
?” he said, frowning with concern.

She swallowed several times and pointed at the flower. “Do you think this is funny?”

Spike looked from her face to the rose. “Me?”

“Who else but you could have put this here?” She picked up the thorny stem and slid her plate onto the table.

“
Cher
, use your head and tell me when I could have put it there.” He looked in all directions, backed from the table to see areas hidden from some angles. He returned and said, “I was at the buffet with you. When could I have put the rose there? And why would I do a sick thing like that?”

He couldn’t have and she was making a fool of herself. “I sound crazy. Of course you didn’t do it. This is to frighten me, and the reason is because I’m on his radar, the man who killed Louis. I’m being warned. But I don’t know if it’s because he wants me to stop poking around or because he’s going to kill me anyway and wants to terrify me some more first.” She drank water to moisten her dry throat. “Who would have a grudge against me? As far as I know I don’t have any enemies.”

“It was put there to frighten both of us but we won’t
let it work. I keep turning things over in my mind, what little we have, and it doesn’t amount to a hill o’ beans. But I do know we can’t let ourselves be lulled by the passage of time. That happens. The hours and days pass with no more events and you convince yourself things are safer. Vivian, I don’t want you to panic. We already knew we had big trouble, and we pretty much know just how big.”

“Bonine isn’t doing a thing, is he?”

Leaning too heavily on a hunch that Errol’s mob connections might not want him to solve the case could be a time waster. Errol had a history of just not wanting to be bothered. “He’s lazy and he never forgives. He hates me and I’m involved with you. That means he hates you.” He thought a bit. “Maybe I should stay away from you. Might be safer.” Might also drive him mad if he couldn’t do his damnedest to keep her safe.

“I could be a danger to you,” Vivian told him. She wanted the whole mess to go away.

“Stay here,” Spike said. “Promise you won’t move.”

Being told what to do usually made her edgy but she’d do as he asked. Unfortunately, she didn’t tell him so.

“Damn it!” he said, real low. “Don’t waste time. Practice your independence when this is all over and it isn’t likely to cost one or both of us our lives. Sit down and stay there.”

He walked swiftly away, threaded his way between tables, and she saw what he intended to do. He went from waiter to waiter asking questions.

Vivian sat down and looked with distaste at the food on her plate.

When Spike returned, he slid onto his seat and drank some of his beer. “It was a boy. Came in and put the flower on the table then left. The waiter assumed I’d arranged it and didn’t think anything of it. Flower sell
ers come in off the street all the time. The man says he wouldn’t know the boy again.”

“It’s all hateful,” Vivian whispered. “What have I done—or Mama—to make him set out to get us?”

“If I had to guess, I’d say there’s only one clear reason for any of this. Want to take a guess?”

The colorful afternoon had grown dimmer in her eyes. “We’re in the way.”

“You could say that,” he said. “I’d put it more finely. You’ve got something someone else wants. Rosebank is slap bang in the middle of everything and that’s where we need to concentrate our efforts.”

His cell rang. He checked the readout and pressed a button. “Hey, Lori. Problems?” He listened, then said, “Hmm. Hmm. No. Just like I don’t have any official rights in Detective Bonine’s kingdom, he doesn’t have any in mine. He sure as hell can’t have access to my files. Did you tell him I was away for a few hours?”

Lori said in her wispy voice, “I think he already knew, sir. He’s in the hall shoutin’ at anyone he thinks will listen. Sheriff Dufrene stopped by and Bonine’s giving him an earful about you.”

Spike closed his eyes and shook his head. “Can you get Dufrene to the phone—without Bonine being in the area?”

“Sure thing.”

In the dead time that followed, Spike covered the receiver and said, “My boss never drops by but he chooses today when I’m not there. And Bonine’s hanging around kickin’ up a ruckus. Yeah, hi, Sheriff. Sorry to miss you. I took a few hours off.” He said, “Thank you,” when Dufrene told him he deserved a break when he could get it.

“Bonine’s been on my case forever.”

“I know,” Dufrene said. “Don’t worry about it. He isn’t making any points with me. But I” (Dufrene’s “I”
came out as a long “aah”) “do wonder what bee he’s got up his ass, apart from the obvious one. He don’t like one thing about you. Is this all about the Patin case?”

“Yes, sir,” Spike said. “Like I reported, I was there the night of that killing—visiting the ladies who live at Rose-bank. Bonine decided I had something to do with the crime.”

“Mad bastard. Don’t forget, even for a moment, that this case isn’t ours.”

“Anything I do will be on my own time, Chief.”

Dufrene grunted at that. “Yeah, well, I’ll get rid of him, but check in with me tomorrow. I think we got to cover our asses on this one.”

“Will do,” Spike agreed and switched off the phone. “Shee-it. Excuse me. Forgot myself there. Bonine—”

“I think he’s involved,” Vivian cut in. “I think he’s trying to use you to move any suspicion away from himself.”

“Could be,” Spike said. “Or he could just be actin’ out the old grudge.” He took the rose and placed it carefully beside his plate. “I’ll get a plastic bag. I doubt if there’ll be any prints, but it’s worth a try.”

He looked at her wan face and his temper rose. “Eat somethin’, okay? Just to please me. You need your strength.”

“You sound like my mother,” she said, but put a forkful of dirty rice into her mouth.

Spike grinned, then wrinkled his nose when his phone rang again. “Devol,” he said into the mouthpiece.

This time it was Cyrus. “How’s it goin’?”

Oh, great, they would never be left alone. “Could be better,” he told him and explained the rose.

Cyrus didn’t answer at once. “Petty,” he said at last.

“That isn’t the word I would have used,” Spike said.

“Think about it,” Cyrus said. “Theatrics. He
couldn’t resist taking the chance. But maybe we should be glad. This man’s so in love with his own stage dressing he seems determined to run risks spreading it around.”

“There is that.”

“Vivian holding up?”

“Not as well as I’d like. She’s a trouper, though—under the circumstances.”

“I’ve got to talk to you about that some more,” Cyrus said. “Have you given any more thought to what I said?”

Spike wished Vivian weren’t hanging on his every word. “We’re at the Court of Two Sisters on Royal and there’s too much noise,” he told Cyrus. “Let me move to a quieter spot.” He smiled at Vivian, got up, and took himself off to a shady corner.

“You still there?” Cyrus asked. “Before I forget. Bill’s idea of helping the Patins get some of their place opened up is taking off. People are comin’ from everywhere to lend a hand. Wazoo’s planning the biggest fete in history. And, hey, I got a call from Homer saying he’ll do some carpentry.”

Spike’s mind did a blank act.

“You there?”

“Yeah. You took my breath away. My dad’s a great carpenter but he hasn’t so much as lifted a saw in ages. His heart seemed to go out of it. He could be a real help.”

“He’s in on it, and Bill of course. One of the things I like about him is he isn’t all talk. Gary Legrain says he’s got two left hands but he can use a paintbrush. Several ladies have volunteered to sew and clean. The thing’s gathering steam the way these things do when you’ve got good people and a good cause. Ellie from Hungry Eyes says she’s got time and Joe Gable volunteered to help outside—so did Marc Girard.”

Spike smiled. “You’re making me feel better.”

“Between us we can get enough rooms spruced up
and do the basics in a reasonable length of time. Then they can make a start and stop feeling so desperate.”

“That’s all great,” Spike said, trying to come to terms with the idea that his father had offered help. “Is that the only reason you called me?”

“Two more. First, I spoke to you about the right order of things. People know about you and Vivian. For your souls and for—well, you know—you need to be doing something about the formalities. I don’t want to push but I know you’re an honorable man and you’ll want to do the right thing.”

It didn’t take a great brain to figure out Cyrus was talking about…marriage! Aw, it was the priest talking because Spike and Vivian were spending time together, alone. Spike smiled at the thought. He looked at her from a distance and everything about her made him want what he couldn’t have right here.

“Spike?”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry about it.”

“Reb and Marc mentioned it, too. Reb said the months go by fast.”

Spike scratched his forehead. “I appreciate their interest—I think.”

“Well, moving on.” Cyrus sounded relieved. “Second point. I’ve mentioned my sister Celina and her husband Jack. Jack Charbonnet has a lot of connections, some of which I probably wouldn’t like. But he knows everyone and everything in New Orleans. I wondered if he could be helpful to you. Also, I’d like you to meet them. A brother can be proud of his only terrific relative, y’-know.”

“I’d love to meet them,” Spike said although he didn’t manage to sound enthusiastic. “Maybe the next time I’m here.”

“I’ve been asking some questions about Martin, Martin and Martin,” Cyrus went on. “Something screwy
there. The sons are on the masthead but they never worked a day of their lives in the firm. In fact, as far as I can make out, they never worked a day anywhere in their lives. But they’ve got a reputation for throwing money around and being in on any shady deal that goes down. Nothing proved, though.”

“Is that a fact?” Spike thought about the twin brothers.

“Fact,” Cyrus said. “And they’ve got some sort of hate thing going for their father’s girlfriend. They don’t even know who she is but apparently the relationship was going strong when Louis died and they think he’d already changed his will to include her.”

“I gathered a lot of this, but thanks, Cyrus. Have I ever said you make a great sidekick.”

“No, but thanks. Jack and Celina expect you at their riverboat around six. She’s the
Lucky Lady.
Take the River-walk. I thought that would give you and Vivian plenty of time to…ah, deal with business and pleasure. You two are a great pair.”

Spike felt a foreign sensation. The tightening of bonds around him. Cyrus was determined to get him hitched to Vivian before the two of them even knew what they wanted. Why, Spike had no idea. “We respect each other as friends,” he said, somewhat stiffly. He didn’t tell Cyrus he’d rather not meet the Charbonnets today. In fact, he hadn’t lost hope of spending time alone with Vivian.

“Uh-huh,” Cyrus said as if what Spike said was difficult to believe. “Just remember there are times when women need extra consideration.”