Marisa Carroll - Hotel Marchand 09

by Her Summer Lover

  “Hello, Sophie,” Cecily said, leaning her umbrella against the wall before following her granddaughter into the storage area. “We just thought we’d stop by and see how you were getting along.”

  “I’m trying to get a handle on all this.” Sophie spread her hands to encompass the antiques crowding around them on three sides. “I’m going to need more than just Guy’s help to deal with this stuff. I’ll probably need the entire high-school basketball team. I had no idea Nana Maude had this much inventory.”

  “She had several pickers working for her. There’ve been a lot of sales around here over the last year or so. Lots of people gave up and moved after Hurricane Katrina and Rita hit. Maude paid top dollar and people were eager to sell to her, even if some of their things weren’t as valuable as they’d hoped.”

  “Yes, of course. I didn’t think of that.”

  Cecily shrugged. “Hurricanes are part of life down here. Always have been, always will be, I suppose.”

  “I understand this building sustained some damage from those storms, too.”

  “Put a big hole in the roof. Insurance paid to have it patched, but they wouldn’t shell out for an entire new roof. That’s what it really needs.”

  Automatically the two women looked up as though the ceiling had become transparent, then realized what they had done and began to laugh. Sophie relaxed slightly. She didn’t know Alain’s mother well, had only met her in passing over the years. There had been no reason for them to spend time together once she and Alain broke up. She regretted that. Cecily Boudreaux was an intelligent, no-nonsense woman who’d had her share of hard times, but still managed to enjoy life. Sophie would like to know her better. Perhaps today was a chance to start doing just that.

  Dana began to tug on her grandmother’s hand. “Grandma, look. There’s the box of animals. See, right over there on that bench.”

  Sophie followed Dana’s pointing finger with her eyes. On the seat of the high-backed, mirrored coat rack, half-hidden behind a raccoon coat that had been the height of fashion on VJ Day, was a shallow plastic storage box filled with colorful stuffed toys. “Are those the animals you were talking about the other day?” Sophie asked, picking her way around a particularly ugly chair made of animal horns. “The ones Nana Maude puts out on display in the armoire?”

  Dana was jumping up and down. “Yes. Yes.”

  “Okay, let’s see what we have here.” Sophie picked up the container and set it on a slightly wobbly table. She poked a finger into the nest of stuffed toys. There was a frog and a teddy bear, a monkey and a small horse among others. Some were quite professional-looking, others more amateurish. She picked up the teddy and blinked in surprise at the amount affixed to the small white tag stapled into his paw. “Four hundred and seventy-five dollars? And this frog has an eighty-dollar tag.” It was a cute teddy, well made, but certainly not worth that amount, and the frog…well, one of its legs was almost an inch shorter than the other, giving it a decidedly lopsided appearance. She glanced at Alain’s mother and saw her face had lost its color.

  “There’s been a mistake in the labeling, I imagine,” Cecily said, her voice just a shade too bright and a little loud. “My mother’s cousin makes them for Maude… I mean she made, them for Maude.”

  Sophie glanced at the mailing label on the storage container. “Your mother’s cousin lives in Nova Scotia?”

  “Yes. She…she loves to sew, and Maude has a small group of customers that are sort of collecting her work…like Beanie Babies. You remember how popular they were?” She cleared her throat.

  “But four hundred and seventy-five dollars?”

  Dana was busy pawing through the box of animals. “Here’s a cute kitty. Can I have this one someday?”

  “Aren’t they all spoken for?” Sophie asked.

  “They usually are,” Cecily told her, “but once in a while there’s…one or two…that need a home. Maude puts those them out on the shelf. Usually she keeps them back here until their owners come for them. I…I’ll pass the word around that the shipment arrived.”

  “Thank you. There doesn’t seem to be any kind of inventory sheet.”

  “I’m sure it’s here somewhere. Like I said, I’ll pass the word around. Dana, come here.” Cecily’s voice was sharp. “We have to be going. You have homework.” She walked past Sophie with a murmured apology, took the kitten the child was holding and put it back in the plastic tub. Her hands were shaking, Sophie noticed.

  “Sophie, are you here?” She recognized Marjolaine Savoy’s voice just as Cecily stumbled against the table holding the stuffed animals. A china shepherdess wobbled and a pair of wooden salt-and-pepper shakers shaped like outhouses bounced onto the faded carpet rolled up beneath the table. The whole container of little animals landed on the floor.

  “I’m so sorry,” Cecily mumbled. “I’ll pick them up.”

  “Don’t bother,” Sophie began as Marjo called her name again.

  “No. No. It was my fault. I’ll get them back where they belong. Dana will help.” Alain’s daughter had already dropped onto her knees and started gathering the toys into her arms.

  “All right,” Sophie said and excused herself to Cecily with a smile as she stepped back into the shop. “Here I am, Marjo.”

  The funeral director held a large manila envelope in her hand. “The copies of Maude’s death certificate came. When I saw your car outside I thought I’d drop them off here rather than make a trip out to the B&B.”

  “Thanks, Marjo. I’ll need them when I go to the bank and the lawyer’s office tomorrow.” Sophie took the envelope and laid it on the counter, not really ready to look at the documents that detailed her godmother’s death, but knowing she would have to sooner or later.

  “If there’s anything else I can help you with, just give me a ring.” She peered over Sophie’s shoulder into the auditorium. “How’s the patch on the roof holding up? There’s been a lot of rain the last couple of weeks.”

  “As far as I can tell everything’s okay. I really haven’t spent too much time back here.”

  Marjolaine peeked into the auditorium. “Oh. Hello, Cecily. Dana.”

  “Hello, Marjo,” Cecily said, clutching the strap of her shoulder bag with one hand and Dana with the other. “We’re just leaving. We stopped in to see if Sophie needed anything but she seems to be doing just fine.”

  “We picked up all the little animals,” Dana piped up.

  “Thank you, Dana. Come back soon,” Sophie said. “And please tell Guy I’ll be in touch about helping out around here.” She would need expert advice on the value of the shop’s inventory, but she could at least put the contents in some kind of order on her own.

  “I’ll do that. Adieu.” Cecily hurried toward the door so quickly that Sophie had to remind her not to forget her umbrella.

  Sophie watched Alain’s mother and daughter head down the steps and across the square, then turned back to find Marjolaine, her long French braid swinging down her back, moving toward the far end of the room, where dusty purple drapes were drawn across the stage. She stopped with one hand on the back of an aisle seat and looked up at the plaster ceiling. “As far as I can see, the stain isn’t spreading. That’s a good sign, but it’s really hard to tell unless you’re up in the attic. The stairway is backstage. It’s narrow and steep and gives me the willies every time I climb it.”

  “Is that how you get into the cupola? I’ve always wondered where the opening was. Maude would never show me when I was little. She was afraid it wasn’t safe. I’ll bet it’s a great view from up there.”

  “It’s one I’d like to see, as well.” Both women turned at the sound of a masculine voice.

  “Hello, Luc,” Marjolaine said with a wave.

  “I didn’t expect to see you here,” Sophie said.

  “I’m delivering a message. Your mother wants you to call her and she says she hasn’t been able to get you on your cell.”

  “That’s because I let the battery run down. It�
�s on the charger in my room. I’ll call her from here.”

  “I don’t believe it was anything urgent, but I told her I’d deliver the message since I was coming into town for dinner anyway.”

  “Thank you.”

  He placed one foot on the cross piece of an aisle seat and braced his hands on his thigh. He looked up at the ceiling just as the two women had done moments earlier. “How’s the patch holding?” he asked Marjolaine.

  “Pretty well, I think. I was just telling Sophie that you really need to be up in the attic to tell. And I’m not going up there today. It’s far too dark and dreary and I don’t have a key. I’ll get Alain to check it out tomorrow or the next day if you’re going to be here working. Is that all right?”

  Sophie hoped her color wasn’t rising. “Yes, of course. He can stop by anytime. As a matter of fact, I need to talk to him. I can’t find the code to the alarm system anywhere in Maude’s things. I’m hoping, she gave him a copy to keep at the police station.”

  “Why don’t you ask him now?” Luc straightened, resting his hands on the back of the seat. “I just saw him going into the Blue Moon with his mother and little girl. Would you two ladies care to join me there? Marjo can fill us in on the Acadian music festival the Indigo Development Committee’s hoping to hold here in October.”

  “Here in the building?” Sophie asked, gazing around at the overcrowded space. It was the first she’d heard of a music festival.

  “That would be great, of course,” Marjolaine said hastily. “But we never got around to getting Maude’s permission. The most we were hoping for was that she’d let us give tours of the building during the weekend of the festival. Our goal, in partnership with the historical society, is to eventually buy the opera house, restore it and use it as the staging area for zydeco and Cajun music festivals. Sort of a mini Grand Ole Opry.” She looked around, a frown pulling her strongly marked brows together. “Maude was our buffer. As long as Past Perfect was a going concern, we figured the owner wouldn’t sell the building out from under us…the town, I mean. Now we have no idea what will happen to it.”

  “The lease is up at the end of the year.”

  “We know. That’s why we need the festival to be a success. So we have funds on hand when we start negotiating with the owner. We’re having a planning meeting next week. We’d love for you to come.”

  “I’ll try,” Sophie said. “But I don’t know if I can even reopen Past Perfect without a trustworthy manager. I have responsibilities to fulfill the bequests in Maude’s will. It might mean liquidating the business as soon as possible. There might not be enough money to keep up the lease for almost a year.”

  Marjolaine’s lips thinned. “Then that’s something else we’ll have to consider.”

  “I’m sorry.” Sophie felt miserable, but didn’t know what else she could do to help at the moment.

  “We can’t do anything more about it this afternoon,” Marjo said. “I have to be going.” She turned to Luc. “Thanks for the dinner invitation, Luc, but my brother’s expecting me home. I’ll take a rain check, though.”

  He smiled. “I’ll hold you to that.”

  “See ya’ll later,” Marjo said and headed back out into the rain.

  “Oh dear,” Sophie said. “I’m afraid she’s unhappy with me.”

  “She’ll get over it. To tell you the truth, it’s a long shot that the town will be able to come up with the money for this white elephant anyway. It’ll cost an arm and a leg to restore it. And the upkeep’s going to be a bitch.”

  “But it would be a real asset to the town. Think of the tourist dollars it would bring in. Indigo’s right on the Evangeline Trail. It could be a real draw.”

  “Let’s discuss it over dinner. Maybe there’s some way to work it out. I know it’s a little early but Willis’s gumbo never lasts long.”

  She hesitated then decided to accept his invitation. She’d probably be eating at the Blue Moon anyway and it would be pleasant to have company. “I’d like that. I skipped lunch, so an early dinner suits me just fine. If you give me a minute to call my mother and make sure everything’s all right back home, I’ll join you there.”

  “ESTELLE, come here.” Cecily poked her head inside the kitchen door of the diner. She’d told Alain she was going to the bathroom. Luckily the hallway that led to the restrooms also led to the kitchen so she could talk to Estelle and Willis without Alain seeing her.

  Estelle turned away from the huge restaurant stove, where a big stainless-steel pot of gumbo steamed, and waved a distracted hand. “Not now, Cecily. I’m swamped with orders.”

  Willis was working the grill. “How’s it going, Cecily?” He lifted his spatula in a salute, but didn’t lift his eyes from the row of burgers and crawfish cakes sizzling on the hot surface.

  “Fine, Willis. And yourself?” You didn’t skip the pleasantries in Indigo, no matter what else was on your mind.

  “I’ve had worse days.” He’d lost a lot of weight fighting his cancer, but he no longer had that pinched look to his face, and the grayness that underlay his dark skin had disappeared.

  “Glad to hear it. Now, Estelle, we need to talk.” She spoke the words sharply. The diner was almost full. Someone could come walking down the hall at any moment, including her own son, the Chief of Police. It had been a half hour since she’d stolen the little teddy, marked with the double purple diamond on the price tag that was the code for Willis’s cancer med, but she was still shaking. She’d barely been able to swallow her dinner, she was so upset.

  Estelle wiped her hands on the apron around her waist and turned away from the pot of gumbo. She crossed the big, steamy kitchen as Cecily eased inside the swinging door. “What is it, Cecily? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost come up out of the bayou.”

  “I have Willis’s meds.” She looked over her shoulder at the door, expecting to see Alain bearing down on her. Imagine the headlines in the Parish Gazette if she should be arrested by her own son. It didn’t bear thinking of.

  “You what?” Estelle’s eyes widened. “Did I hear you right?”

  “You heard me.” Cecily fumbled in her bag and pulled out the little teddy. “Quick, get something to hide it in before someone else sees it.”

  A big smile broke out on Estelle’s care-worn face as she studied the price tag with its distinctive marking. “Thank God. We were about ready to get in the car and drive to Canada ourselves to get some more. How did you get your hands on it? Did she give you the rest of them?”

  “She didn’t give me anything,” Cecily hissed. “I stole it, may God forgive me.” She made the sign of the cross, then went on to explain as quickly as she could what had happened. While she talked, Estelle lifted a stainless-steel container down from a shelf.

  “No one will look for it there. It’ll be safe until we close up for the night. So you couldn’t get any of the others?”

  “No.” Cecily shook her head. It had all happened so quickly. She still couldn’t believe she’d had the nerve to take the teddy at all, but when it fell on the floor and bounced away from the others, she’d taken advantage of the situation and slipped it into her purse.

  “The Lord will forgive you,” Estelle said, blinking away a tear. “And Willis and I do surely bless you.”

  “Thanks. But we need more than a blessing. We need a miracle. We can’t keep going in there and snatching them piecemeal this way. We need to get them all at once. Oh, I wish she hadn’t seen them.”

  “What if she puts them out for sale?” Estelle asked, her eyes widening. “I mean, she must have commented on the price.” She looked down at the little bear. “He’s cute and all…but…”

  “I’m worried about that, too.” They ordered the drugs through a pharmacy in Nova Scotia close to her cousin’s home. All seventeen members of their group paid individually for the meds, most by credit card, and then gave her cousin’s home as the shipping address. Cecily’s cousin sewed the meds into the stuffed toys she loved to make and sent them ac
ross the border in monthly shipments. It had been Maude’s idea to have her put the prices of the drugs on the tags she attached to the animals along with an identifying code of squares and triangles. Never any names. When each of the members of the group came to collect their animal, she matched their invoices with the tags and their colored code. Cecily had never felt it was a foolproof system, but since Maude had been willing to be the one to accept the smuggled shipments, she’d never felt as if she could voice her misgivings.

  And happily her cousin was a very meticulous woman. In over two years there hadn’t been a single mix-up, so maybe Maude’s system was a good one.

  “I wish we’d known she was going back to Houston like she did,” Estelle said, breaking into her thoughts as she dropped the teddy bear into the metal canister and covered it with the bag of brown sugar. “Maybe we could have gotten in—”

  “It’s too late now for that. She’s seen them. She’ll know they’re gone now even if we’re lucky enough to get in and out of the opera house without being caught. Sophie’s no fool. She’ll remember what happened today. I don’t want her to think I’m a shoplifter.” A horrible thought struck her. “Or that Dana stole it. She was with me when I took Willis’s bear but I made sure she didn’t see me put it in my purse. Lord, what have I done?”

  “The right thing,” Estelle assured her.

  “I don’t suppose we could wait until she puts them out on the shelf and then all go in and buy them back,” Cecily said hopefully.

  Estelle’s lips drew into a straight line. “These drugs are so expensive already. But—”

  Cecily waved her off. “I know. I know. It was just a thought.”

  “If worse comes to worst we’ll tell her the truth,” Estelle said.

  “I don’t want Alain to find out what we’re up to.” She had to consider the fact that he wanted to run for parish sheriff in the future, but Cecily had also noticed the way he’d looked at Sophie when she came into the Blue Moon with Luc Carter. Alain still cared for her. No one else might have noticed, but she was his mother and she knew. How could he ever have any kind of relationship with her if his own mother was convicted of stealing from her?