Polished Off (Charlotte LaRue Mystery Series, Book 3)

by Barbara Colley

  Charlotte hesitated a moment more. Patsy seemed okay now, seemed more like herself. But, still, Charlotte was reluctant to leave. Yet ... if she seemed okay and said she was okay, then she must be okay. Don’t get involved! With a shake of her head, Charlotte forced herself to leave the room and went in search of the vacuum cleaner she’d come for in the first place.

  The vacuum was exactly where she’d left it the day before, still sitting in the comer of the dining room next to the kitchen. With the vacuum firmly in hand, Charlotte was finally ready to leave when she heard Will Richeaux come inside again through the kitchen door. She stepped to the entrance of the kitchen.

  “I’m leaving now,” she said. But as she turned to leave, the back storm door slammed and another man entered the kitchen. He was carrying a small plastic bag and was dressed in regular clothes, so she figured that he had to be another detective. More than likely, he was Will Richeaux’s partner.

  “What’cha got, Tom?” she heard Will Richeaux ask.

  “We lucked out,” the detective named Tom said and handed over the bag to Will. “It’s a billfold. Found it inside the urn.”

  “Please tell me there’s an I.D. still readable in that billfold.”

  Tom grinned. “Thanks to good old laminate, the driver’s license is still readable.”

  “And?”

  “License belongs to one Ricco Martinez,” the detective said.

  “Hmm ... well ...”

  But Charlotte didn’t hear the rest of what Will said to his partner. At the sound of Ricco’s name, she went stone still and her heart began pumping overtime. Nadia’s abusive ex-boyfriend.

  If the billfold had belonged to Ricco, did that mean that the identity of the skeleton in the urn was Ricco?

  Chapter Five

  Once Charlotte got over the initial shock of hearing that the bones might possibly belong to Ricco, all she could think about was leaving, getting out of there and going home.

  Feeling as if she were in a fog, she forced herself to move. Clutching the vacuum with both hands, she turned and stumbled down the hallway toward the front door.

  But seated in the driver’s seat of the van, instead of going home, she simply sat staring at nothing while her mind struggled to sort out what she’d just seen and overheard.

  It had been almost a year since Ricco Martinez had been arrested as a member of one of the gangs that had been caught stealing cemetery artifacts. Because of Daniel’s help, Ricco had been released from jail, but then Ricco had immediately disappeared. And no one had seen or heard from him since.

  Could the skeleton really be Ricco’s? If it was, then that would certainly explain why no one had seen or heard from him. But if the skeleton was Ricco’s, then how on earth had he ended up in the urn to begin with? And who had put him there?

  “Ma’am, are you okay?”

  The sudden intrusion of the deep male voice gave Charlotte a start. Her heart thumping against her rib cage, she jerked her head around to the window. Standing just a couple of feet away was Joe Blake, the police officer who had first questioned her.

  “I—I’m f-fine,” she stuttered. “I—”But words escaped her.

  “Are you sure, ma’am? You look kinda pale.”

  Charlotte forced a quick smile. “Just tired.” She reached down and switched on the ignition. The last thing she wanted was another conversation with the police. “Just need to get home,” she told him.

  Though he didn’t look convinced, he nodded. “Take it easy, Ms. LaRue.”

  Charlotte barely remembered the short drive home because of the myriad of questions swirling through her head. What if the skeleton did turn out to be Ricco’s? What about Nadia and Daniel ... and Davy? What was going to happen when they found out?

  “Poor little guy,” she murmured, her thoughts mostly on Davy. Even if Daniel did adopt him, one of these days Davy would want to know about what had happened to his real father. How awful it would be to find out that your father had been murdered and stuffed into an urn like so much garbage.

  Charlotte shuddered. What kind of person would do such a thing to another human being? And why?

  If you lie down with dogs, expect to get fleas. The minute the old saying popped into her head, she muttered, “Yeah, yeah, and birds of a feather and all of that stuff.” But as much as she would have liked to dismiss the adages as having no relevance to reality, there was no dismissing the truth in them. Ricco had chosen to associate with criminals, the kind of people who were liars, thieves, and possibly even murderers, and for his association, he’d ended up dead.

  So what now? she wondered. Should she tell Nadia and Daniel or not? Mind your own business.

  What if she told them and then it turned out that the skeleton wasn’t Ricco after all? Mind your own business.

  But what if she didn’t tell them and the skeleton was Ricco’s? Mind your own business.

  “Okay, okay,” she answered the nagging voice in her head. Two of the things that Charlotte disliked with a passion were gossips and busybodies. Whether work-related or personal, she’d always adhered to the policy of minding her own business, and she expected others to do the same. She figured that taking care of her own problems was enough to handle without borrowing other people’s problems or prying into others’ lives.

  Just as she turned into her driveway, it suddenly hit her that whether the skeleton was Ricco’s or someone else’s, Nadia would be one of the first people the police would want to question, not only because of her relationship with Ricco but also because she worked for Patsy. And the police would find out about Nadia and Ricco’s relationship. Of that she had no doubt, especially since Will Richeaux had asked for Nadia’s name and address. And if the skeleton did turn out to be Ricco’s, then ...

  A cold knot formed in her stomach. Nadia wasn’t just an employee any longer. She was family. Whether Charlotte wanted to get involved or not, now she had no choice. This was her business. Family business. Panic welled in her throat. Call Daniel. Call him now!

  Charlotte snatched her cell phone out of purse, then realized that she didn’t know Daniel’s phone number by heart. Shoving the phone back into her purse, she slammed out of the van and ran up the steps. At the door her hand shook so badly that it took several attempts before she was finally able to fit the key into the lock.

  Inside, she threw her purse onto the sofa and made a beeline for the telephone. She glanced up at the cuckoo clock. Daniel should still be at the office, she decided as she fumbled through the Rolodex until she was able to locate his work number.

  As if sensing her panic, Sweety Boy squawked, and, wings flapping, he paced back and forth along his perch inside the birdcage.

  Her foot tapping impatiently, Charlotte ignored the little bird as she waited for the receptionist at Daniel’s law firm to put her through to his office.

  “Hey, Aunt Charley!” Daniel said the minute he came on the line. “What’s up?”

  “I need to see you right away,” she told him.

  “What’s wrong, Auntie?”

  “Not over the phone,” she replied. “I need to talk to you face to face.”

  “Aunt Charley, has something happened? Nadia or Davy? Judith or Mom?”

  “No—nothing like that, hon.”

  “Can it wait until—”

  “No! It can’t wait. I need to see you now,” she insisted.

  “Hey, Auntie, try and calm down. I’m on my way. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  It seemed like an eternity before Charlotte finally heard the sound of a car pulling into her driveway. She rushed over to the window and peeked out, just to make sure.

  “Oh no,” she groaned. “Not now!” What to do ... what to do? Any other time she would have welcomed a visit from her sister, especially after their recent altercation being resolved. But not today and not now. And especially not with Daniel on his way over.

  So how could she get rid of her? Charlotte glanced around the room as if it held the ans
wer. Then inspiration struck. She grabbed her purse and keys and headed for the door. She opened the door just in time to see Madeline climbing the steps to the porch.

  Charlotte pasted a surprised look on her face. “Oh—Maddie! Hi, there.”

  Madeline paused on the top step, her eyes straying to Charlotte’s purse. “You on your way out?”

  Charlotte nodded and tried to look disappointed. “Afraid so. An appointment—I have an appointment.” It wasn’t totally a lie, she consoled herself. She did have an appointment of sorts with Daniel.

  Liar liar, pants on fire. Charlotte ignored the accusing voice in her head. “Sorry, Maddie. If I had known you were coming ...” She shrugged and deliberately left the sentence unfinished.

  “It’s okay,” Madeline said. “I couldn’t have stayed long anyway. I just dropped by to give you this.” She held a small sack. “It’s a peace offering.”

  Words stuck in Charlotte’s throat as she accepted the sack, and shame for deceiving her sister filled her.

  “I know you’re not supposed to have a lot of sugar,” Madeline continued, “but I also know how much you love pralines. So I stopped off at Jax Brewery and got some fresh ones. Maybe if you just eat half of one every other day or so, it won’t hurt.”

  “Thanks, Maddie,” Charlotte whispered. “I’m sure that half of one every day or so won’t hurt, but you didn’t have to do that.”

  Madeline smiled. “Oh yes I did. If nothing else, it makes me feel better. And besides, I snitched one on the way over here, and, boy, was it ever yummy.”

  Charlotte laughed, and, feeling like the biggest hypocrite and liar that ever lived, she turned and locked the front door.

  Madeline only hesitated a moment more before she took the hint. “Well ... guess I’d better go now and let you get on your way.”

  “Thanks again, Maddie,” Charlotte called out after her as Madeline headed for her car.

  Madeline opened the car door, smiled back at Charlotte, and gave a little wave. Then she climbed into her car, leaving Charlotte still standing on the porch to battle with her conscience.

  The second her sister’s car disappeared down the street, Charlotte unlocked the front door and went back inside.

  Maybe a praline would make her feel better, she thought, eyeing the sack.

  It would serve you right if you choked on one. With a groan and clutching the sack, Charlotte marched into the kitchen and deliberately placed the sack on the counter. Only minutes had passed before the sound of a car door slamming reached her ears.

  Please let this be Daniel, she prayed, hurrying back to the living room. Peeking out the window, she sighed with relief as she watched Daniel approach the steps to the porch.

  “Talk about a close call,” Charlotte murmured. A little too close for comfort. Thank goodness that Milan was a one-way street, she thought as she headed for the door. Otherwise, Daniel and Madeline would have passed each other.

  But Charlotte’s relief was short-lived as the memory of the reason for Daniel’s visit settled around her like a cloak of doom. Even though she was expecting Daniel to knock or ring the doorbell, she still jumped when he rapped on the door.

  Taking a deep breath and whispering a quick prayer that she was doing the right thing, Charlotte opened the door.

  “Come in, Daniel.”

  He brushed past her, then turned to face her, his expression tight with worry and concern. “What’s going on, Aunt Charley?”

  Charlotte closed the door and motioned toward the sofa. “Let’s sit down.”

  Daniel’s lips thinned with impatience, but he did as she asked. Once they were seated, Charlotte began. “As you may or may not know, I worked in Nadia’s place for Patsy Dufour yesterday.”

  Daniel nodded. Charlotte went on to explain about leaving her vacuum and about going back to Patsy’s house to pick it up earlier that day. She also told him about the pond and the men moving the statues and the urn. “The urn was heavy, though,” she said. “Too heavy. The men dropped it, and it cracked. And when they moved it again, the cracked portion fell—

  “Aunt Charley,” Daniel interrupted, holding up his hand, “I don’t mean to be rude, but what does any of this have to do with me, and why all the urgency?”

  “Be patient, Daniel. Please. You’ll understand in just a minute. Okay?”

  Once he nodded, she continued. “There were bones inside that urn. Human bones.”

  “What?”

  Charlotte held up a hand. “Just let me finish. We called the police, and when they showed up, they confirmed it. They questioned all of us—the two workers, Patsy Dufour, and me. When the detective finally said I could leave, the other detective came in with a billfold they’d found in the urn. Daniel, honey”—Charlotte reached over and squeezed his arm—“that billfold belonged to Ricco Martinez.”

  Daniel blanched. “Martinez?” he whispered.

  “They—the crime-scene team—found Ricco’s driver’s license inside the billfold.”

  For what felt like an eternity, Daniel simply stared at her with a stunned look of disbelief. When he finally found his voice, it was a harsh whisper. “Are—are they sure?”

  Charlotte slowly shook her head. “I don’t think they’re absolutely sure. I figure they’ll have to do some further testing—forensic stuff or something like that to be certain. But you see now why I needed to tell you, don’t you? One way or another they’ll want to question Nadia ... and probably you, too,” she added, “since you’re the one who arranged for him to get out of jail.”

  Daniel shoved his fingers through his hair, then abruptly stood and began pacing. After a moment, he sat back down. Turning toward Charlotte, he took her hands in his own. “Okay, Auntie, as best as you can remember, I need to know everything. I need to know exactly what the police did and said. Who were the detectives—their names—and what kind of questions did they ask? Think you can remember all of that for me?”

  Charlotte nodded, and with a reassuring squeeze, Daniel released her hands.

  “The detective who questioned me was Judith’s ex-partner, Will Richeaux,” she told him. She waited a heartbeat to see if Daniel had any kind of reaction to his sister’s ex-partner’s name. But Daniel’s only reaction was a frown.

  “Guess I didn’t realize they weren’t partners anymore,” he commented.

  When he said nothing more about it, a wave of relief rippled through Charlotte. Thank goodness he didn’t know about the affair his sister had had with Will Richeaux. On top of everything else, she didn’t want to be the one to have to explain about that, too. As far as she knew, she was the only member of the family who had known about the disastrous affair. Of course, Louis had known about it, but he didn’t count.

  Charlotte cleared her throat. “The other detective’s name was Tom,” she continued, “but I never heard his last name. Anyway, Detective Richeaux was the one who asked all the questions. He questioned me first,” she explained, then she went on to tell Daniel exactly what Will had asked her and Patsy. When she got to the part where Patsy had mentioned that she’d bought the urn at an old warehouse, Charlotte’s voice trailed off.

  What was it about that warehouse? Out of the clear blue, she suddenly remembered. “That’s why!” she exclaimed. “That’s why it sounded so familiar.”

  Daniel’s brow furrowed with confusion. “Why what sounded so familiar?”

  “The address—the address of the warehouse where Patsy bought the urn. It’s the same one—no, wait.” She slowly shook her head. “That can’t be right. Remember back when you got Ricco out of jail? Not long after that, a bunch of stuff—statues and things—were discovered in the back room of an old warehouse. The warehouse had been sold, and when the new owners started their renovations, they found some of the stolen cemetery artifacts there.”

  Daniel still had a blank look on his face.

  “It was in the paper for days.”

  When he finally nodded, she continued. “Well, supposedly the police co
nfiscated all of it. For evidence,” she added. “But if they confiscated it all, then how could Patsy have bought the urn there?” Another thought occurred to her. “Patsy said ‘he,’ ” she murmured. No wonder he sold it to me. So who was ‘he’? Charlotte wondered.

  Daniel shifted and turned so that he faced her. “Look, Aunt Charley, I vaguely remember reading about that stuff being found, but right now I think there are more urgent problems to consider. I’m more concerned about Nadia and what all of this is going to do to her ... and to Davy,” he added in a whisper. “Poor little guy.”

  Daniel’s voice was hoarse with emotion, and Charlotte strongly suspected that he was remembering his own loss so many years ago. Though Daniel and Judith’s father hadn’t died, he might as well have. When he’d divorced their mother, it was as if he’d divorced his children, too, leaving them to forever wonder what they had done so wrong that their own father would have nothing to do with them.

  “Davy still remembers his father, you know,” Daniel continued. “Still talks about him and even dreams about him sometimes.”

  Charlotte’s throat tightened with sympathy. “Oh, honey, you’re right. I’m so very sorry.”

  “No, it’s okay,” Daniel assured her. “But tell me, Auntie ...” He paused. “How do you explain to a three-year-old that his father is dead?”

  “Not very easily, I’m afraid,” she murmured. Like Daniel, Charlotte also knew about loss, knew what it felt like to lose someone you love. Unlike Daniel, her loss had been permanent. She’d been eighteen when Hank’s father had died. Then, only two years later, her own parents had been killed in a horrible accident. But Charlotte had been old enough to understand about death. Davy ... Davy was just a child, a very young child.

  Daniel stared past Charlotte for several moments. “No, not easy at all.” After a moment he drew in a deep breath. “Right now, though, I need to break the news to Nadia—prepare her for when the police show up. And they will show up,” he added. “You can bet on it. If, in fact, those bones do belong to Ricco, there’s a good chance that Nadia could end up being their number one suspect. We might have some time, though, depending on how long it takes them to confirm the identity. But not much.”