Lies Agreed Upon (51 page)

“Although your ancestors are interesting enough, I prefer these black-and-white nature photographs you have on the arches up here,” commented Christina.

“Oh, of course, those are Remy Thivet’s limited edition prints. It’s a great promotion for him. I’ve already had several inquiries about his work,” said Tess.

“Let’s see if the views can compete with the attractions inside,” said Rob. They gazed down first at the garden, rolled out like a magic carpet, and then crossed to the opposite windows.

“What’s that?” asked Trevor pointing to a round domed building with Grecian columns. It was reached via a short path from the artificial pond and fish fountain.

“That’s Donovan’s Pavilion. It used to be over by those white-bark trees in the distance. Charles Donovan built it to honor dead Yankee comrades secretly buried there,” said Tess.

“I hope the dead soldiers didn’t follow their memorial here,” shuddered Katie. “I think you’re asking for paranormal mayhem by combining Yankee and Rebel ghosts!”

“Actually, the discovery of human remains is a hassle. First, the poor fellows had to get identified as veterans of the Army of the Republic, not victims of a serial killer. Then they had to get approval for reburial elsewhere. The remains finally moved to a cemetery near Baton Rouge to join other unidentified Union dead. Meanwhile, I moved the ‘temple’ to where the old maze used to be. It’s a nice flat space, and, with the addition of the pavilion, it’s perfect for weddings, birthday parties, etc.,” explained Tess. She dropped her voice to a stage whisper and added, “We don’t mention the dead soldiers. It’s not good for the party business.”

“So I assume those big industrial buildings over there are DiPaolo Machine Works
,” said Katie, indicating several two-story, metal-sided buildings with high garage doors and loading docks. An asphalt parking area was filled by semitrailer and flatbed trucks.

“Yep, but all the activity isn’t due to DiPaolo,” added Tess. “Remember, I retained mine
ral rights. See that area being cleared by bulldozers. That’s for exploratory drilling. If they find anything, at least the rig won’t block the view, and, unlike my fracking-friendly refinery friends, I’m committed to minimizing environmental damage.”

“What about the murder mystery you mentioned?”
demanded Christina. “Are you going to get to it?”

“Follow me,” nodded Tess and took the group down to the foot of the stairs on the first floor, stopping in front of a door labeled “Ladies” with a little skirted icon.

“This better not be some disclosure about antique plumbing,” said Christina, eying the door.

“Well, the need for bathrooms did lead to a surprise discovery,” smiled Tess. “We knew there was a hidden storage room in this end wall, but it was jammed shut, and we didn’t want to risk damaging the tile. I figured we’d reach it when we went behind
the wall to put in bathrooms. That’s how we found the skeleton.”

“Skeleton! How come you never told us about it?” exclaimed Jen.

“I didn’t tell you because, when it comes to murder, I’ve learned the hard way that it’s better to get the facts before sharing information,” answered Tess. “The coroner determined that the bones were from a young man, aged 20 to 25, and that, based on bone damage and two bullets recovered with the remains, he had been shot twice with a .38-caliber handgun. The bullets probably disabled him but were not initially fatal. Someone left him to bleed to death in the hidden closet, obviously at a time when the place was deserted.”

“What were his wounds?” asked Rob with macabre curiosity.

Tess grimaced. “He was shot once in the abdomen and once in the groin.”

“Ouch,” exclaimed Trevor. “That sounds like someone didn’t like him at all.”

“Do you have any idea how long the skeleton had been there,” probed Jen, “or who he might be?”

“There were clues,” replied Tess. “He was dressed in clothing from around 1930.
There was no handy driver’s license because those weren’t required back then. There was also a pillow case holding a pair of silver candlesticks, six gold napkin rings, and a little silver piece we couldn’t identify.”

“It sounds like stolen loot. Could it be from the Alhambra mansion before it burned down, or even stolen in the chaos when it burned down?” suggested Christina.

“I wondered about that,” nodded Tess. “Then I remembered a known theft from the family in 1930. When Ben Cabrera died, cash and valuables went missing. Everyone suspected Eddie Roy Haas, Ben’s personal rescue project. Eddie knew about this hiding place, and he had disappeared.”

“So this guy hides the stuff here,” reasoned Trevor. “He lies low
, and then he comes out to retrieve his stash. But somebody shot him, maybe an accomplice who got greedy and took the cash but left the more identifiable items. Did you confirm that the bones belong to Haas?”

“It was tough,” nodded Tess. “There were no medical or dental records
for comparison. So we used mitochondrial DNA testing, which is DNA that traces unchanged through the females. We eventually found a female relative of his mother Muriel and got a definitive match.”

“So who shot him?” demanded Jen.

“That stumped me at first,” said Tess. “Then as we mounted the display of Ben’s memorabilia, I recognized that odd little piece of silver in the pillow case. It was a broken clip from the watch fob.”

“Didn’t that watch come to you through Gloria Donovan? So that’s what you were hinting at. There was some connection between the dead guy and Gloria, right?”
quizzed Christina.

“She really, really hated him,” Tess
nodded grimly, “and she was certain that he had stolen from Ben Cabrera. Plus, she knew about this hiding place. The police may have given up trying to catch Eddie, but I doubt Gloria did. It’s also the only way that Gloria would have gotten hold of Ben Cabrera’s personal memorabilia. Ben wouldn’t have given those things to her. She had to be the one who took them from Eddie Roy Haas, after she shot him.”

“Wait a minute.
How old was she at the time?” asked Katie with a troubled frown. “She had to have been a kid!”

“Gloria was a 14-year-old tomboy. She was very proud that her brother Dan taught her to drive and shoot,”
responded Tess. “Her indulgent brother even let her borrow his car. The belvedere’s secret gardening closet would be an obvious hiding place for Eddie’s stolen goods. Once she found the loot, she just had to wait patiently for him to return to get it. The Donovans lived on the road to the refinery and Alhambra. She knew Eddie’s car – a Ford Model A that Ben had given him. I’m guessing that she watched for his car and followed him in Dan’s borrowed vehicle. She snuck up on him, shot him and left him in the dark, as he had once trapped her. She could then drive his car to a nearby bayou, dump it and walk back to her vehicle. If they were still interested, I think the police could dredge up Eddie’s rusty Ford from some local bayou’s mud.”

“The way she shot him shows a very personal hatred,” remarked Jen. “There had to be something more involved than
the prank gone wrong you’ve told us about.”

“You’re right,”
agreed Tess. “After the bones were removed and we were cleaning out the hidden storage area, I found a note crumpled into a ball behind a rusty shovel. I can remember it clearly because it was so nasty. It said, ‘It was your fault. You begged for it, you ugly little bitch. If you try to rat me out, I’ll make you sorry.’ It was signed ‘Ed,’ and I’m sure that meant Eddie Roy Haas. I don’t know when Gloria threw it there, but I can imagine her triumphantly tossing it in with the wounded man before she left him to die in the dark.”

“Ugh, it sounds like Eddie was a vicious creep who was molesting little Gloria. But it’s hard to imagine a 14-year-old taking that kind of violent revenge,” said Jen.

“Gloria was a lonely, emotionally immature girl. Can you imagine her feeling of isolated rage?” shrugged Tess. “She found a way to punish Eddie, get free of him, and still keep her shameful abuse secret from everyone.”

“So Gloria Donovan got away with murder,” summed up Katie. “Where’s the justice in that?”

“It depends on how you define justice, I guess,” murmured Tess and then changed pace abruptly. “Well, let’s get out of the gory past and go enjoy the gardens. I really need to meet and greet. We’ll get back together for dinner,” she announced and motioned the group to follow her outside, where guests crowded the paths between the roses. Servers with trays were weaving among the clumps of visitors and offering a variety of tapas and beverages.

As they left the restaurant, Katie asked, “Tess, you have your family united photograp
hically, but I just realized that two are missing: Desmond and Dylan Donovan. What about them?”

Tess looked out at the bustling garden and then met Katie’s eyes with a grim smile. “Not everyone’s welcome at a family reunion. I’ll leave it to Dreux to entertain the twins. I have a fee
ling they ended up in the same place.”  Suddenly her stern expression brightened. “Tony, I’m glad you made it!”

Tony Mizzi strolled up with a broad grin. He was escorting an attractive blond woman, who nodded coolly to the group. “Hey, everybody, I’d like you to meet Laura Geyer,” he a
nnounced in an oddly nervous tone. “She’s the new partner at Graham, Odom & Geyer. In fact, she rescued the Gulf Coast Refining account. I think you’ll agree she’s much more attractive than the previous partner, and I promise she’s also much, much nicer!”

Laura was a beautiful woman
in her 30s, but the watchful intelligence and the amused quirk of her sensuous mouth seemed to suck the “suave” out of Tony. Tess remembered his fantasy of a masked beauty who’d ask for his soul. He seemed to have found his belle dame sans merci, she thought, and it was an example of “be careful what you wish for.”

Tess smiled. It was a comment
her mother would have whispered—if she were still in the habit of haunting her daughter. But Tess’s maternal alter ego had vanished after her injury, not exorcised from her brain so much as absorbed and accepted, Tess supposed.

Tess certainly did
not need any paranormal hints to remind her to focus less on socializing with friends and more on the opportunities of her grand opening. She left her friends to fend for themselves and headed purposefully toward a woman news reporter and a male restaurant critic from
The
Times-Picayune
and
New Orleans Magazine
, respectively.

After confirming the garden’s
basic history and Tess’s plans, the newspaper reporter asked Tess why she had chosen the name “Gardens of Eden.”

Tess replied promptly, “That’s a good question. I thought at first I would c
all the place Alhambra Gardens as a reference to the name of the old estate house that burned, but another historic plantation is using the name to describe one of its gardens. I thought about the name Cabrera Gardens to honor the family founders, but that didn’t evoke the magical allure of this place, and it ignores other branches of the family who contributed as much or more to these gardens, like the Beauvoirs. Then I remembered a remark attributed to Thérèse Cabrera, the woman who planted the original roses here. When asked why she let her husband design the mansion while she focused on the gardens, she was reported to have said, ‘Humanity started in a garden. Knowledge and eternity grew there. Is there a better place to spend my time?’ And this place
is
like a protected Eden in the middle of the modern industrial world, don’t you think? I know that when I first walked through the hedge wall, I felt I had entered an otherworldly, timeless place. So I decided Gardens of Eden was the right name.”

The restaurant critic teasingly asked Tess if she planned to increase her “otherworldly” ambiance by inviting any ghosts, like her nearby competitor
, The Lost Lady Restaurant.

“Well, the ghost at The Lost Lady Restaurant is a relative, so I don’t want to ‘dis’ her,” grinned Tess. “She’s Josephine, the first wife of Antonio Cabrera, and it was her son Benjamin who funded construction of Alhambra and its gardens. You can see her portrait in the resta
urant. But we aren’t welcoming misbehaving guests or ghosts.”

“However, I’ve done some background checking, and your property has some uneasy spirits of its own,” insisted the reporter, determined to embellish her story with a haunted hist
ory. “I know Civil War skeletons were unearthed nearby, and a skeleton of a more recent murder victim was found during the recent conversion of the belvedere into a restaurant.”

Tess had prepared for these questions. “There isn’t a hin
t of paranormal activity here. The Union soldiers were found near the far property line, and the remains were moved to a military cemetery. As for the skeleton, it’s been identified as a petty criminal, unrelated to the family, who happened to be killed here after the main house had burned and the garden was abandoned. I’m sure he’s happy to get a proper grave. Sorry, but one of my goals has been to eliminate any reason for a ‘haunted history’ in this place.”

Tess left the journalists and spent the next hour promoting her business to a series of p
otential clients: wedding planners, River Road plantation-tour companies, and even a wine club president. As she mingled with her guests on the garden paths, she suddenly spotted Lillian Vanderveld’s blocky figure. Given how much Lillian had donated to the restaurant, Tess felt obligated to personally welcome her. As she approached, Mimi hopped out eagerly from behind Lillian’s bulk, and Tess greeted both old ladies warmly.