Lies Agreed Upon (39 page)

“Oh, so that’s why a fight started between Noah and my grandfather,” said Tess. “Bea i
ntervened, and because Noah’s shirt was torn, she saw the cross on his chest. She fainted, and it must have been from the sight of that. Maybe she was afraid someone would recognize it. Did someone see the cross and tell Noah the connection to his father?”

“No, it was much later Noah found out about his real papa—an’ I t’ink it ruined his life,” said Louise with a grim shake of her head.

“Who was his father and how did Noah find out?” asked Tess, leaning forward, oblivious now to the pall of smoke wreathing the old woman.

Louise looked at her quietly for an interminable number of seconds. She then seemed to come to some decision. “It was a paintin’,” she said.

“What painting?” asked Tess
, perplexed.

“
A plantation lady’s picture in somebody’s attic,” she replied. “She was some ole Cabrera.”

There was
a click in Tess’s brain as a puzzle piece fell into place. “Josephine,” she gasped. Her nagging sense that she had missed a clue in the portrait was vindicated. In her mind’s eye, she could see the pious painted hand holding the carefully rendered, distinctively designed gold cross. It was instantly clear it was the same gold cross that Bea Cabrera had worn when Tess had watched her pace in the twilight outside the bayou house. It was the same cross that Noah had seen in Josephine’s portrait at Lillian Vanderveld’s party during the attic visit instigated by Phil Dreux.

Standing in the attic, Noah had stared at the twin of his own necklace and made the co
nnection between the Cabrera heirloom and his birth mother’s tale of stolen jewelry. He would realize that the young groom, his real father, must be a Cabrera. There was only one Cabrera who fit the bill: Roman Cabrera. He had married in 1933, the year of Noah’s birth. No wonder Bea was desperate to prevent her husband Michael from learning of her affair with his older brother and the existence of a child.

Perhaps Desmond had planned it
and asked Dreux to make sure Noah saw the painting. Desmond would have recognized that Noah’s cross and Josephine’s cross were identical. The temptation to use that knowledge in his feud with the Cabreras would have been irresistible. Had Desmond threatened Guy with the truth about his secret half-brother? Tess wondered when Noah realized that he had been manipulated by his supposed friend Desmond, if he ever did.

“My grandfather Guy Cabrera and Noah Cabirac were half-brothers. They were enemies and brothers,” murmured Tess. Louise nodded a confirmation but was clearly waiting for a fu
rther reaction.

Suddenly, it dawned on Tess. “My God, the day after he realized that Guy was his youn
ger half-brother, Lillian Vanderveld rejected him by telling him he was nothing compared to Guy. And the day after
that
, he went on that fatal boat trip. Some taunting remarks between Guy’s group and Noah’s group sparked the deadly boat race. Did Noah ever tell you what happened?”

Louise stared over Tess’s head in silence, and Tess thought she saw moisture gather in the woman’s eyes. Then Louise swallowed and coughed. She slowly shook out another cigarette from her pack and focused fiercely on the flick of the lighter, the bright flare and the wisp of i
gnition smoke.

“I us’ally don’t smoke dis much,” commented Louise. “But rememberin’ has got me upset. Noah
had come back home right after dat boat crash. He was real upset, but he won’t talk wid mama an’ papa, ’cept to say he’d been in a bad accident, an’ now Desmond was hurt an’ his twin brodder was dead. I found him sittin’ on da stoop later dat night, smokin’ a cigarette an’ starin’ at da bayou dark. I sat down by him to give him company. I still shiver when I recall da look in his eyes—like he’d give up hope, like his soul was in hell.

“
He told me he was da older brodder of Guy Cabrera, an’ how he figured it out from dat picture. He said, ‘See, Louie, it’s all a magic trick, an’ God’s hand’s too fast. You t’ink you got it figured out, till He pulls a card outta t’in air an’ you know you been fooled. Guy Cabrera’s got money an’ respect an’ a bright future as a doctor, an’ I got no money, no respect an’ no future. We had da same papa an’ we had society lady mamas. We got looks an’ brains. But one wins, an’ one loses.’ Den he told me what dat bitch Lillian Vanderveld said, how she’d used him to try to get to Guy Cabrera.” Louise fell silent suddenly.

“What about the boat accident?” p
ressed Tess. The old woman had stopped at a crucial point in her story, and her face seemed ravaged by a deep current of feeling. Inside the shell of the old woman, a younger sister still sat beside her tormented brother and wept for him.

“Dat huntin’ trip mornin’, Noah was
hyped up,” Louise finally began, speaking slowly and haltingly. “I t’ink he was burnin’ wid da unfairness of it. Dey was all gettin’ ready, loadin’ da boats wid food an’ guns an’ duck blinds. Everybody was jokin’, hootin’ an’ hollerin’, an’ Desmond’s brodder Dylan was swigging whiskey an’ stowing more bottles. ‘Hey, Dylan, don’t bring all dat booze on board. Boats an’ guns don’t mix wid liquor,’ Noah said. ‘Lighten up. It’s just a snort to warm us on a cold mornin’,’ said Dylan. An’ Desmond yelled, ‘Guy, you better listen to Big Brodder Noah, too.’ Dat made Guy act up. ‘Lemme have some, Dylan,’ he said, an’ he took a big gulp – to prove he’s not bossed by Noah.”

“
I think both Desmond and Guy knew that Noah was Guy’s older half-brother,” speculated Tess. “I think Desmond arranged for Noah to see that painting and find out about the necklace. And Guy hinted to a friend that he had gone away to Texas for his medical training because he had learned something upsetting about his father—maybe about his father’s illegitimate son. In that case, Desmond calling Noah ‘Big Brother’ was throwing a match into the gunpowder.”

“
I can only tell you what Noah told me,” stated Louise, brushing off Tess’s guesswork. “Ever’body but Noah an’ Guy’s huntin’ guide got tipsy right off. Desmond’s happy to have Noah steer his runabout while dey lay back to drink. But Guy pushed his guide away to pilot on his own. He looked at Noah an’ kinda sneered, ‘Dis contest’s between you an’ me, Desmond. You t’ink it’s fair to have your pet Cajun run your show?’ Noah said real reasonable, ‘If you wanna fight fair, Guy, let your guide take over. He knows dese waters. Else it’d be safer for you to go slow an’ follow my lead. We gotta watch out for debris from da hurricane dis summer.’ Now Guy got mad. ‘I don’t need advice from you, Cabirac. Follow me if you’re so scared,’ he yelled, an’ he revved up his engine an’ took off. Desmond piped up, ‘Our boat has got more power. Pass him, Noah.’ So Noah zoomed after Guy an’ come along side his boat. He yelled, ‘Slow down,’ but Guy told him to stick it where da sun don’t shine.

“
Now Noah was knowin’ dat bayou pretty good, an’ he recalled some sunk debris round da next bend. So he maneuvered his boat to force Guy to dat side. Maybe he meant to scare him an’ teach him a lesson. Maybe he meant for him to crash. ‘But you didn’ hurt Guy,’ I said to comfort him. ‘No, ’cause of me, my best frien’ is a cripple an’ his brodder’s dead,’ he said real quiet, with tears runnin’ down his face.”

“Was it guilt over the boat accident that drove Noah to take his own life?” asked Tess gently.

Louise shook her head. “I know he was real down, but he tried to move on, even got married. Only dat was a mistake.”

“Married!” Tess exclaimed. “No one mentioned that.”

“His so-called frien’s didn’ care about Noah once he stepped outta deir world,” sniffed Louise. “He married a girl he knew from back home, but Noah musta been desperate lonely to waste time on a slut like her. When he died, she took off an’ married somebody else real quick.”

“So you have no idea why Noah killed himself,” Tess concluded.

“I can guess,” said Louise and stubbed out her cigarette. “I t’ink it had to do wid Guy Cabrera’s murder.”

“You think Noah was involved?” gasped Tess, shocked the doting sister would imply it.

“Noah never killed nobody on purpose. But right after Guy Cabrera died, Noah called me wid a strange kinda question: ‘If you suspec’ someone of a crime, would you tell da police?’ What could I say? I figured it had to do wid his frien’s, or maybe it was Bea. She’d been pesterin’ him. Her poor abnormal son had died, an’ Noah said she was grabbin’ at him like a drownin’ woman. So I told him to do what’s right. I said, ‘You gonna share da guilt if you keep da secret. Can you live wid dat?’ We never spoke more on it, an’ I regretted sayin’ dat. Noah was sensitive. He went huntin’ a week later an’ shot hisself. I keep seein’ him alone in dat boat wid my words in his head.”

Tess, familiar with the pain of a suicide survivor, remained sympathetically quiet as Louise regained her composure. The old woman cleared her throat and looked up at Tess, her eyes suddenly hard and her voice challenging, “So are you
da Cabrera gonna do right by Noah?”

“I don’t know how I can atone for the wrongs done a dead man,” said Tess hesitantly. “I don’t think Noah has any legal standing as a Cabrera heir since he was never acknowledged
as one, so I don’t think relatives could claim –” Tess sputtered to a halt before the growing ire on Louise’s face.

“I’m not talkin’ about a few drops of blood money. I’m talkin’ about justice.
Noah needs da respec’ he never got in life—now you know how much you Cabreras cheated him,” declared Louise, staring at Tess with implacable eyes.

Tess found herself nodding, “I swear I will try to honor Noah’s memory. But I really don’t know how yet. You’ll have to be patient.” Tess bit her lip in consternation that she had been so easily intimidated into making this promise. She suspected that Louise would demand a share of the inheritance even though she denied wanting monetary restitution.

Louise barked out a laugh. “I been waitin’ since 1958. I’m a patient woman. But I’m runnin’ outta time, an’ I won’t let it rest now.” This last comment definitely sounded like a threat.

“When you invited me here, you spoke of pictures of my grandfather. Do you really have any?” Tess hoped to distract the woman from her obsession with justice
.

“Oh, yeah, an’ you can take
my pictures. I got no interest in Noah’s so-called frien’s. Maybe Noah figured out he’d been played for a fool at da end. Maybe it’s what broke his spirit.” Louise hauled herself up and crossed to the little galley kitchen. She jerked open a drawer and pulled out a handful of snapshots that she fanned with a careless wave, like low cards discarded in whatever game she was playing.

Tess glanced through the photos swiftly and curiously. From her portrait photograph of her grandfather Guy, she was able to pick out his tall figure in several pictures. He appeared in one photo with six uniformed members of the football team from St. Paul’s. At the far left of the group was a young man that Tess immediately tagged as Noah Cabirac. His face was amazingly handsome, like a Renaissance angel. He was tall, lean and lithe, gracefully posed in a hipshot stance with a negligently dangled helmet. His hair and eyes were dark and his expression i
ntense. In fact, it was his aloof seriousness that stood out from the rest of the happy young men; he was the only one who was not smiling. “Is that Noah?” she asked, pointing. Louise nodded wordlessly.

Now that she had identified Noah, Tess again flipped through the pictures. There was one person who appeared in most of the photos with Noah. “Who’s this?” she asked Louise.

“Desmond Donovan. I guess you never seen him before,” answered Louise. Dreux had described Desmond as handsome and confidant. In fact, there was something closer to arrogance in the slight jeer of his grin and the self-conscious central positioning in each group. He was good-looking but no Adonis, so Dreux’s worshipful memory was clearly not to be trusted in this and perhaps other details.

There was another young man with such a great r
esemblance to Desmond that Tess exclaimed, “I’ll bet that’s Dylan Donovan. Is it?” Louise glanced at the photo and grimaced, “Yeah, Desmond’s twin. I never trusted him. He liked to undress me wid his eyes.”

Tess was about to stow the photos in her purse, when her eye was caught by a figure in a natty suit and tie. She had initially ignored this boy, noting only in passing that
his formal dress did not seem to fit in. But there was something familiar about him. She frowned and looked more closely at the black-and-white photograph. The unknown had a full head of carefully combed light curls, long-lashed light eyes, and a condescending smile. It was the smile that tipped her to his identity.

“Is this Phil Dreux?” she asked Louise, who looked over disinterestedly and nodded. It was hard to imagine foppish Phil with macho Desmond and Noah, but the photo proved the bond of the odd trio.

“Are you sure it’s OK for me to take these?” she asked, and then put them in her purse as Louise waved permission silently. “Well, I’m sure we’ll talk again,” said Tess and decided it was time to escape before Louise demanded something more. “Speaking of reminders of the past, what happened to Noah’s cross? Was Bea buried with it?” she asked idly as she moved to the door.

“She took it to her grave,” nodded Louise, with an odd, amused look, “wherever her grave is.”

“What do you mean?” asked Tess.

“Well, after a while, I regretted givin’ Noah’s necklace to Bea Cabrera. I wanted it back. Of course, she
said no, but I’m pretty stubborn an’ I kep’ at her. To shoo me off, she said she’d leave it to me when she died. I wasn’ too happy since she seemed like a hardy old trout. But God is a mystery, like Noah said, and took her sooner dan I t’ought,” Louise continued with a strange little smile. “See, Bea would go wid Desmond’s parents sometimes to stay in a vacation house on da bayou—”