Maid for Murder (27 page)
Authors: Barbara Colley
“Mother! Stop it!”
“I won’t stop it!”
“That’s enough from the both of you!” Judith quickly closed the distance between herself and the two women. “And you—” She grabbed Jeanne by the arm and pushed her away from her mother. “Why are you trying to protect Brian O’Connor? Did he help you murder your husband? Maybe it was his idea to begin with.”
Jeanne wrenched her arm free and shook her head violently. “I want an attorney.”
“She’s protecting him because she loves him,” Charlotte said softly. “But Brian didn’t kill Jackson. All Brian wanted was to be near his daughter. Isn’t that right, Jeanne?”
Jeanne’s eyes darkened with pain, then filled with tears again. “All he wanted was to see her...” Her voice erupted in a sob..
“At night he would sneak onto the gallery,” Charlotte continued, “just outside the library. That’s where he’d sit and wait for Anna-Maria to come home from one of her dates. I figure Jeanne’s telling the truth at least about that part. All he wanted was to get a glimpse of the daughter he was cheated out of. On one of those nights, he could have very well overheard Jackson talking on the phone inside the library to Sydney. Am I right, Jeanne?”
The younger woman covered her face with her hands, and her shoulders shook with sobs. “I—I should have listened to him from the beginning. He—he told me to get a lawyer. But by the time I finally started listening, it was too late. Jackson had already transferred almost everything—almost all of it.”
“But if Jackson died, then you—as his widow—would get it all back, wouldn’t you?” Charlotte asked.
Jeanne scrubbed at her eyes, then lifted her head. Ignoring Charlotte, she told Judith, “I want an attorney. You haven’t arrested me or read me my rights, so none of what I’ve said or what my mother has said can be construed as any kind of admission of guilt.”
Several tense moments passed before Judith finally nodded. “Jeanne Dubuisson, I’m placing you under arrest for the murder of your husband, Jackson Dubuisson. You have the right to remain silent—”
“No, no, no!” Clarice moaned. With a strength that took them all by surprise, she launched herself out of the chair and grabbed Judith around the neck. “Run, Jeanne!” she cried out. “Run!”
For the moment, Charlotte was too stunned to move. Jeanne hesitated, clearly torn between her concern for her mother and her chance to escape.
“No, Jeanne!” Charlotte tensed. “Don’t do it!”
Chapter Twenty-one
T
o the amazement of everyone, instead of bolting for the door, Jeanne marched over to where Judith was still struggling with Clarice.
o the amazement of everyone, instead of bolting for the door, Jeanne marched over to where Judith was still struggling with Clarice.
“Mother, stop it!” Jeanne demanded. She grabbed the old lady’s arms. “That’s enough!” She forced her mother’s arms loose. “I’m not running,” she told her firmly, “so give it up.”
Clarice took one look at Jeanne, then crumpled in her daughter’s arms as great sobs shook her frail body. “Oh, Jeanne, girl,” she whimpered, “what are we going to do now? What’s to become of us?”
Rubbing her neck, Judith backed away from the two women. Though she was none the worse for wear after her wrestling match, Charlotte could tell that she was shaken.
“Oh, Mother, don’t,” Jeanne cried, tears streaming down her face as she held Clarice close. “It’s going to be okay. I promise everything will be okay.”
“Mother—Grandmother—”
Except for Clarice, all eyes turned to the doorway of the foyer, where Anna-Maria stood with a bewildered look on her face that was intensified by the fear in her eyes.
“Ha-has something happened?” She rushed over to her mother and grandmother. “Mother, what’s going on? Is Grandmother ill? Please,” she pleaded, “say something. You’re scaring me.”
Jeanne swallowed hard. “It’s okay, darling,” she finally choked out. “We—we’re okay. Here, help me—” She glanced over at Judith. “Could we move my mother to the sofa in the parlor ... please?”
“Mother, I don’t understand. What’s wrong with Grandmother?”
“Not now, darling. Your grandmother will be just fine, and I’ll explain it all, but first let’s get her settled where she can rest.” Again she looked at Judith, waiting for permission, and with a tight grimace, Judith finally nodded her consent.
While Jeanne and Anna-Maria struggled to get Clarice to the parlor, Judith reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her cell phone as she followed close behind. Clarice began moaning, and Charlotte couldn’t hear who Judith called or what was said.
By the time they had settled Clarice onto the largest of the parlor sofas, the old lady was alarmingly pale, and her breathing was shallow.
Judith took one look at her, then asked Jeanne, “Do you want me to call an ambulance?”
Jeanne hesitated, then shook her head as she covered her mother with an afghan. “No, I don’t think so—not yet.” She turned to Anna-Maria. “Get your grandmother a glass of orange juice from the kitchen and get me a wet washcloth.”
Charlotte stepped forward. “I’ll get the juice and washcloth.”
“No, Charlotte.” Jeanne gave her a pointed look. “I—I need you to do something else. Let Anna-Maria get it.”
The moment that Anna-Maria disappeared through the doorway, Jeanne said, “I didn’t want her to hear, Charlotte.” She turned to Judith. “I know I don’t have any right to ask favors, but could you please let me have a few minutes alone with my daughter before you take me away? I—I’d like to try and explain things to her.”
Judith frowned. “I—”
“If I was going to run, I would have done so earlier. Please ... It’s all going to be such a shock to her.”
Still Judith hesitated, and at that moment, the peal of the doorbell sounded.
“I’ll get the door,” Charlotte offered, relieved to have something to do.
“I hope it’s Louis,” Judith muttered. “But if it’s anyone else, get rid of them.”
Charlotte nodded and rushed from the room.
The person at the door was Louis Thibodeaux. Standing just behind him were two uniformed police officers.
By way of greeting, he nodded curtly to Charlotte. “Where’s Judith?” he asked gruffly.
Charlotte stood to the side and motioned toward the parlor. “In there,” she said. “She’s been looking for you.”
“I know” was all he said before he turned to the two officers behind him. “Ted, you take the back door, and Barry, you stay here. No one comes in or out without my permission.” Then, without a word to Charlotte, he brushed past her and strode down the foyer toward the parlor
Charlotte closed the front door and turned to follow, but a movement to her left caught her eye.
Anna-Maria stood in the dining-room doorway, a glass of orange juice in one hand and a washcloth in the other. The look of confusion on her pale face turned quickly to fear as she followed the stocky detective with her eyes. Her hand that held the juice began to shake, and Charlotte quickly stepped closer and took the glass from her.
“What’s happening?” the younger woman whispered. She turned to Charlotte. “Please, won’t someone tell me what’s going on?”
“Just try and stay calm, hon. Right now your mother needs you to be strong.”
“But why? I don’t understand.”
“Anna-Maria, your mother is in trouble. Just remember that no matter what happens, she loves you more than life itself.”
“Why won’t you just tell me what’s happening?”
“Because it’s not my place, hon. Your mother will explain everything. Now let’s get this juice and washcloth in there to your grandmother.” Charlotte nudged her toward the parlor with her free hand.
As if in a trance, Anna-Maria let Charlotte guide her. As soon as they entered the room, Jeanne grabbed the juice. Once she’d gotten Clarice to take several swallows, she directed Anna-Maria to place the washcloth over Clarice’s brow. Then she leaned down and kissed the old lady on the cheek and whispered something in her ear. When she straightened, she looked at Judith.
“You’ve got thirty minutes,” Judith told her. “Detective Thibodeaux will be right outside the door. Don’t make me sorry that I’m allowing this,” she warned.
“Thank you,” Jeanne whispered. With a sideways glance at Louis Thibodeaux, she turned to her daughter and held out her hand. “Come along to the library with me, darling. We need to talk.”
Judith nodded at her partner. “You go with them, Lou, and I’ll tell Barry to station himself outside, on the porch in front of the French doors.”
“Something tells me that this isn’t a good idea,” he muttered, but he did as Judith requested and followed Jeanne and Anna-Maria.
“I can stay with Miss Clarice,” Charlotte offered.
“Thanks, Aunt Charley.”
Time seemed to slow to a crawl as Charlotte waited alone with Clarice. The house was still and quiet, so quiet that she could hear the ticking of the grandfather clock in the foyer.
A part of her was glad that Judith had given Jeanne and Anna-Maria a few minutes alone. Her heart ached for Anna-Maria, but all she could do was pray that the girl would be strong enough to bear what was ahead. Even so, for once, Charlotte had to agree with Louis Thibodeaux. Something about the whole thing just didn’t feel right.
She glanced at her watch and estimated that at least fifteen of the thirty allotted minutes had passed. So where was Judith? And why hadn’t she returned yet?
Then she eyed Clarice, and the unease she’d felt grew. The old lady was staring straight up at the ceiling with unblinking eyes. She had a pasty pallor to her skin that didn’t look right to Charlotte, and she’d yet to utter a sound since Jeanne had kissed her. The only way Charlotte knew for sure that she was still breathing was the faint movement of her chest.
She moved closer to the sofa. “Miss Clarice, how are you feeling?” When the old lady didn’t answer or even acknowledge her in any way, warning spasms of alarm erupted within Charlotte. Clarice had already suffered one stroke. What if she was in the throes of another one?
Charlotte leaned over the old lady and gently shook her shoulder. “Miss Clarice, please say something?” Clarice rolled her eyes but offered no other response.
“Aunt Charley, is something wrong?”
Charlotte looked up. “Oh, Judith, thank goodness you’re back. I think we’d better call an ambulance.”
Clarice moaned, as if in protest, then tried to talk. But her words slurred together and came out garbled.
Judith glanced at Charlotte, and her eyes reflected Charlotte’s own fear.
“Oh, God, I think you’re right, Aunt Charley.” Judith whipped out her cell phone and hit 911.
Chapter Twenty-two
“S
tay with her, Aunt Charley,” Judith told her. “I need to let Louis know what’s happening, and I need to tell Barry to show the paramedics in when they arrive.”
tay with her, Aunt Charley,” Judith told her. “I need to let Louis know what’s happening, and I need to tell Barry to show the paramedics in when they arrive.”
From a first-aid class she’d taken once, Charlotte knew that the only thing she could do for the old lady was to watch her breathing and keep her quiet and warm. Kneeling beside the sofa, she tucked the afghan closer around Clarice’s frail body.
“Just hang in there, Miss Clarice. Help is on the way.” She removed the washcloth, refolded it, and placed it back on Clarice’s forehead. How long? she wondered as minutes seemed to drag by. How long before the ambulance would come?
Raised voices in the hallway drew her attention. “Now what?” she murmured. The voices grew louder, and with a worried look at Clarice, she pushed herself up and hurried to the doorway.
Anna-Maria, flanked by Louis Thibodeaux, was standing in the foyer. She had tears streaming down her face and was sobbing incoherently while Judith was snapping out questions.
“Where’s your mother?” she demanded.
“Sh-she’s gone.”
“What do you mean she’s gone?”
Anna-Maria whimpered and shook her head as she covered her face with her hands.
When Judith realized she wasn’t getting anywhere with the girl, she turned to Louis Thibodeaux. “What happened, Lou? How can she be gone? Barry swears she didn’t come out his way.”
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