"I'm Franki Amato. My partner, Veronica Maggio, and I spoke with your mother and sister yesterday."
She delicately shook my hand. "Yes, that's why I'm here. May I sit down?"
I nodded. "Of course. Let me show you to our conference room, and then I'll have Veronica join us."
"That would be nice." She smiled pleasantly. "Thank you."
After I'd settled her at our conference table with a glass of water, I closed the door and practically ran from the room to Veronica's office.
When I saw Veronica behind her desk, I understood why she hadn't responded to the bell. She was staring at her computer with her hot pink headphones on, which could only mean one thing: she was communing with the goddesses—The Spice Girls.
"Veronica." I waved my arms SOS-style in front of her desk. "Concetta Di Salvo is here."
"She is?" She looked mildly panicked as she rose to her feet. "But I haven't prepared any questions for her yet."
"We'll just have to improvise." I pushed her toward the doorway.
A minute later, after greeting Veronica, Concetta dove into her reason for coming to see us. "I loved Angie like a sister, so I'd like to help with the investigation in any way I can."
I noticed that Concetta had a naturally calming presence about her. No wonder she'd become a nun.
"I understand," Veronica replied. "Your mother told us that Angelica was like one of the family."
"Oh, absolutely! In fact, Imma, Angie, and I used to joke that we were actually triplets." She smiled nostalgically.
I glanced at the rosary in Concetta's lap. "But your mom also said that your family lost touch with Angelica after Imma died."
"Yeah. Things were never the same after we lost Imma." She took a sip of her water. "My whole family was in mourning, of course, and then there was the emotion and stress of the investigation and later the trial. After it was all finally over, we never heard from Angie again. But I'm sure she felt uncomfortable after everything that happened."
"Why do you say that?" I asked.
"Well, because my family was in ruins, for one thing. We weren't the same big happy family that Angie had known before," she said wistfully. "You see, Imma was the beautiful, extroverted one. And she had so much energy and enthusiasm for life. Without her we all just…fell apart." She paused for a moment. "But I also think that Angie cut off contact with us because she felt bad that she didn't help us at the trial."
Veronica furrowed her brow. "Your mother told us she testified."
"Well, she took the stand, but she said she didn't know anything about Stewart or his relationship with Imma."
"And you didn't believe her," I prompted.
"I wanted to," Concetta said earnestly. "It's just that Imma died so violently. I felt like Angie must have noticed something, you know, like some sort of abusive behavior. And…" her voice trailed off.
"What?" I leaned closer.
"Well," she began, "I'm sure Imma told me that Angie had been the one to introduce her to Stewart when they met at London Fashion Week."
Veronica visibly straightened in her chair. "So Angie knew Stewart before Imma did?"
"Yes, I'm positive that Imma said Angie had met Stewart at Mardi Gras before she and Imma ever went to the London College of Fashion. I remember because she said that Stewart had pulled Angie from the crowd onto his float in the Krewe de Eros parade."
"He had his own parade float?" I asked, surprised.
Concetta nodded. "Yes, he's very active in Mardi Gras."
Veronica quickly typed a note on her laptop. "Why do you think Angie would have lied in court about knowing him?"
"I don't know," she said. "Maybe because she was scared?"
"Of what?" I pressed. "Stewart?"
"No, Angie wasn't the type to be intimidated by anyone," Concetta scoffed. "If anything, she was worried about her reputation. She was very driven to succeed. In fact, Imma said that as soon as Angie got to London, she would only associate with people who could help her career in some way."
That certainly jives with the way Ryan and Annabella described her, I thought.
Veronica began typing again. "Did you see Angie again after the trial?"
"No, never," Concetta said sadly. "The last we knew she was in London. We had no idea that she'd come back to New Orleans, and we certainly didn't know that she'd changed her name."
Veronica looked thoughtful for a moment. "Do you have any idea why she would have been going by the name Jessica Evans?"
Concetta looked at her hands. "The name specifically? No. But my guess is that she wanted to change her name to disassociate herself from Imma's murder."
"Why would she want to do that?" I asked. "Do you think she had something to do with your sister's murder?"
"No, not all." Concetta's eyes filled with tears. "Angie could never have killed Imma. I'm sure of that."
Not wanting to upset her further, I changed the subject. "You joined the convent after the trial, right?"
"No, I entered aspirancy about six months after Imma died. Before the trial. God called me to service after I lost her," she said softly. "It's funny, when Imma was thousands of miles away in London, I still felt like she was with me. But then when she was really gone…well…let's just say that I could never have gone back to the life I led before."
I felt terrible for this woman, and I fervently hoped that her decision to become a nun was truly the right one for her, and not a choice made solely based on her loss.
Veronica briefly placed a hand on Concetta's back to comfort her. "I've always heard that the bond between twins is so powerful."
"It is," she said in a whisper. Then she cleared her throat and added, "And I'm sure my mother told you about my father."
"Yes, we were so sorry to learn of his passing, especially under the circumstances," I said.
Concetta nodded, tight-lipped. She was touching the crucifix at her neck again. "Imma's death killed my father. And it killed my mother too, even though she's physically still with us. The person she used to be died a long time ago."
"What about Domenica?" I asked. "How has all of this affected her?"
She inhaled deeply. "Domenica was only thirteen when Imma died. Then she lost her father—and her mother, for all intents and purposes. She's had an awful time coping."
"That's certainly understandable," Veronica said.
"Yes," Concetta said. "And even though I haven't always agreed with the way she's handled her grief, I know she still has faith in God, so she'll be all right."
"What haven't you agreed with?" I asked.
"Well, her dropping out of school, mainly. But I also disapprove of her goth makeup and clothes."
"So, she became a goth after Imma's death?" I asked.
"Yes, I think she felt isolated, but she also wanted to be left alone. The goth persona was like a mask for her to hide behind."
"I'm sure it's just a phase," Veronica said.
"I think so, yes," Concetta replied.
I wasn't so sure I agreed with them, but I knew I shouldn't press the issue. "What about Stewart Preston? Did you or anyone in your family ever have any interaction with him before Imma died?"
"No. My family doesn't have much money, so we weren't able to visit Imma in London while she was seeing Stewart."
"And she never came back to New Orleans with him after they began seeing each other?" I continued.
Concetta looked down at her rosary. "Like I said, we didn't have the money. The annual tuition at the London College of Fashion was around sixteen thousand dollars at the time, not including the cost of living. So Imma took out student and private loans, got scholarships, and worked to pay her way through school. My parents helped as much as they could, but I can tell you for sure that she had nothing left over for an international plane flight."
My mind instantly wandered to Angelica's flight home for her mother's funeral. If Imma couldn't afford a plane ticket with her parents' assistance, then how had Angelica managed to pay f
or one? "Do you know anything about Angie's finances during school?"
"In the beginning, she had a harder time paying for school than Imma did because she didn't have any help from her parents," Concetta replied. "But then, she came into some money at the end of her senior year."
"You mean, when her mother died," Veronica clarified.
Concetta turned to Veronica. "Yes, but she didn't inherit any money from her mother, if that's what you mean. Angie always said that she and her mom lived paycheck-to-paycheck. She also told me that her father had stopped sending child support when she was only two or three."
"Then, where do you think the money came from?" I asked, intrigued.
"We never knew, but my mother thought it must have been an advance from a company. You know, like a signing bonus."
"Do you know whether it was a large sum of money?" I pressed.
"I have no idea. I just know that around the time of the investigation, money no longer seemed to be an issue for her. Plus, she started wearing the occasional piece of pricey jewelry or an expensive blouse. She would tell people that these things had belonged to her mother, but I knew better."
Veronica and I exchanged a look.
"Let's go back to Stewart," Veronica said. "Did you talk to him during the investigation or at the trial?"
"Definitely not. The police warned us that if we had any contact with him, we could jeopardize the case. And of course, our attorneys wouldn't let us speak to him during the trial, either," she said with a hint of frustration. "But he wouldn't have talked to us anyway, even if we'd tried. In fact, he never so much as looked at any of us at the trial. Not even after he was acquitted."
"Are you convinced that he's guilty of Imma's murder?" Veronica asked.
Concetta looked her in the eyes. "I am, yes."
"And what about Angie's murder?" I asked.
"What about it?" she asked, surprised.
"Well," I began in a careful tone, "you know that Imma and Angie were murdered the same way, right?"
Concetta winced. "Yes, they were both strangled."
"With scarves," I specified.
She nodded, seemingly unable to speak.
"So, do you think it's possible that Stewart had anything to do with Angie's murder?" I asked, meeting and holding her teary gaze.
"I couldn't possibly speculate on something like that. It wouldn't be right," she said quickly.
"Of course not," Veronica soothed.
"I pray for Stewart every day, and I've forgiven him for what he did to Imma," she said. "I hope that one day he confesses his sin and asks the Lord for forgiveness, but I don't think he ever will."
"Why do you say that?" I would have expected a nun to hold out hope that a sinner would repent.
"Well, if what I've seen in the society pages is true, then it seems unlikely. He was known around New Orleans to be a partying playboy when he met Imma, and it appears that he still is."
Veronica looked briefly at Concetta and then resumed typing.
"Plus," Concetta continued, "I doubt he would seek counsel from the Church since I've heard he practices voodoo."
"Voodoo?" I repeated.
I barely heard Concetta when she replied, "Of course, that could just be a rumor." I was too preoccupied with thoughts of the skull bead I'd found at the murder scene.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
"Can you believe that?" I asked after I'd watched Concetta exit the building from the conference room window. "She said Stewart was involved in voodoo!"
"She also said that might not be true." Veronica picked up her laptop and headed out the door toward her office.
Following close on her heels, I said, "But even you have to admit that the skull bead I found takes on a whole new meaning in light of what she said."
"It is intriguing," she admitted with her back to me as we walked down the hall to her office. "But we need proof of Stewart's association with voodoo. And then we have to connect that bead to him, which could be next to impossible considering that this town is full of people who buy that stuff."
"That's where Odette Malveaux comes in! If Stewart does practice voodoo, then she might know him. That would explain how she knew about this case."
"Talk to Odette, Franki," Veronica said as she entered her office and took a seat behind the desk. "But take whatever she says with a grain of salt."
I leaned against the doorjamb and replied, "Okay," although I was cheering inside. "Apparently, she only goes to Marie Laveau's on weekends, but I'd certainly be willing to go there on my day off if it meant getting a lead on this case." And asking her about Bradley, I thought. "But first I'll do some Internet research on Stewart to see if I can find anything connecting him to voodoo."
Veronica gave a dismissive wave of her hand. "Okay, enough of this voodoo nonsense. What did you think about the revelation that Jessica came into money right around the time of Imma's murder?"
"Honestly, it made me wonder if someone was paying her off." I took a seat in front of her desk.
"I thought the same thing." She tapped a pen on her right temple.
"I mean, even Ryan Hunter said Jessica had a suspiciously large amount of money, which is odd for a woman who, by all accounts, didn't inherit anything from her mother and should have been strapped with student loan debt."
"Good point." Veronica leaned back in her chair and propped a resplendent pair of beige and gold Louis Vuitton pumps on her desk.
"So, I have this theory," I continued. "Suppose Concetta was right, and Jessica did know something about Imma and Stewart's relationship, or maybe even about—"
"Imma's murder," She interrupted with a flourish of her pen.
"Precisely."
"Then Stewart could have been paying her to keep quiet."
I nodded. "That would also explain Jessica's reluctance to testify at the trial. Of course, it's pure supposition at this point, but this could be the link between the cases that we've been looking for."
"True." Veronica pressed the pen to her lips.
"That reminds me. Have you looked at the picture of Stewart at the courthouse after his acquittal?"
"I have. And judging from his demeanor, I wouldn't put bribery past him."
"Yeah." My mind started racing. "Oh my gosh! I just remembered something."
"What?"
"That day I ran into Bradley at Market Café, he told me that Jessica came to the bank to make a deposit every month. Do you think it could have been a payoff?"
"Well, it might have been her paycheck. But we definitely need to look into that."
"I'll text Corinne and ask if she would be willing to help." I pulled my phone from the pocket of my jacket. "After all, I did find her dog."
"Great idea. I also think it's time we paid Stewart Preston a visit."
"I doubt he would talk to us," I said as I typed a message to Corinne. "I mean, it's not like he's going to want to associate himself with Jessica's murder, especially not after he was lucky enough to get off for Immacolata's."
"Oh, I know he won't talk to us. We'll have to go undercover."
I placed my phone on her desk. "What do you have in mind?"
"Well, what do we know about Stewart?" Veronica had a mischievous gleam in her eyes.
I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. I'd seen that look before, and it always spelled trouble—for me. "Besides the fact that he's an acquitted murderer, you mean?"
"Yes, Franki," she said with a reproving look. "Besides that."
"We know that he loves Mardi Gras and women."
Veronica picked up my phone. "Right. The Mardi Gras parades have started, but according to this year's schedule, the Krewe de Eros parade isn't until a week from tomorrow. So, we'll have to go with women." She gave me the once-over.
"Oh no." I jumped to my feet in alarm. "You're the bat-and-twirl girl! Besides, I already went undercover at LaMarca. It's your turn!"
"If Immacolata is any indication, Stewart has a weakness for busty, dark-haired Italian girls. T
hat would be you." She nodded in the direction of my breasts.
I shot her a look. It really was true that blondes have more fun, mainly because they leave all the crap to us brunettes. "All right." I sighed as I flopped back into my chair. "What do I have to do?"
She grinned, triumphant. "Well, first we have to contact Stewart. I've been doing some searching, but I can't find a phone number or email address for him. His parents are listed in the phone book, though, so we'll start with them."
"Do you just want me to pretend to be interested in him, or something?"
"If you get one of his parents on the phone, yes. But if by some chance Stewart actually answers, then tell him you're an old friend of Jessica's and that you need to talk to him urgently."
I again leapt from my seat. "Are you crazy? If he did have anything to do with Jessica's murder that'll make him think I want to blackmail him. You could get me strangled!"
"Calm down, Franki. You'll be fine. Besides, you know we're going to have to play hardball to get a guy like Stewart's attention. If you just pretend to be some floozy who wants to sleep with him, he'll figure out that you're a fraud the minute you try to ask a question about Jessica. This way, he'll know you're looking for information about her from the start."
"Yeah, and he'll be suspicious of me from the start, too," I muttered. "Maybe he'll even bring a scarf to our meeting."
"We can worry about the meeting later. Right now, all you have to do is call him. I've already signed you up for a Google Voice phone number to conceal your identity."
"Veronica, a guy with Stewart's financial means could find out the identity of the most protected person in the federal witness protection program. So he's not going to have any trouble figuring out who owns a Google phone number."
She leaned forward. "There is a chance a master hacker could trace it, but it would take some time because I registered the number from a public computer. And besides, I used an old email address that could only be traced back to me."
"I see that you've been thinking about this for a while." I glared at her as I returned to my seat. "Have you picked out a fake name for me too?"
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