Kiss Them Goodbye

by Stella Cameron

  Cyrus rocked onto the balls of his feet. “Yes, and he wouldn’t want to go far carrying a body. If there is another body, of course, which I pray there isn’t.”

  “The detective’s going to come here, I just know he is,” Vivian said. Spike had made no move to release her hand and she had no intention of doing so. “He doesn’t like me and I don’t know why because he doesn’t know me.”

  “You’re convenient and you’re a friend of mine,” Spike said. “He wants a scapegoat. He doesn’t really think you’ve done anything wrong. But as long as he can center on you and take potshots at me, he doesn’t have to do too much else. By the time they have to say you had nothing to do with it, the trail will be cold and Errol won’t shed any tears. One more unsolved case for which he’ll have dozens of excuses. And you will be a part of one of them, cher, you and all the evidence he insists you ruined.”

  “I don’t care,” Vivian told him and absolutely meant it. “I just want this to be over so we can get on with our lives.”

  She saw Spike’s speculative expression but made sure her own was blank. Either they were heading somewhere together or a whole lot of misery lay ahead.

  “Louis had been here a lot,” Cyrus said. “And the way to the front of the house from the main gates is obvious.”

  “Yeah,” Spike said. “So how did he get lured off track? He must have been waved in there and given some story about the main drive being closed farther on. That took guts, timing and luck.”

  “Luck for sure,” Cyrus said. “I walked right past only minutes before. If I’d been a few minutes later…”

  Vivian didn’t want to dwell on that thought. “Those potted laurels.” She stared into space. “Where did they come from?”

  “With you two around I’ll be out of a job pretty soon,” Spike said, nodding. “We’re going to have to hit it off with someone low on Bonine’s feeding chain. Don’t worry about it.”

  “You like taking charge, don’t you?” Vivian asked. “I mean—”

  “I know what you mean.” Spike’s mouth came together in a hard line.

  “I think I’ll see if I can get some coffee in the kitchen,” Cyrus said.

  Spike almost told him he wasn’t subtle.

  Cyrus looked from one of their faces to the other. “Take your time. I have some calls to make and I expect Madge will slow things down with Charlotte and Gary. She’ll want to look into every room along the way.” He turned and walked out, shutting the door behind him.

  “Are we being left alone because Cyrus thinks we want to be?” Vivian asked.

  “Something like that. What did he mean about your mother and Madge and Gary Legrain?” He didn’t miss Vivian’s loud swallow.

  “Spike, my mouth is too quick. Then I say things other people take wrong. I like it that you’re strong—minded.”

  “Do you?” He wondered if she’d really thought that through.

  She walked away from him very deliberately and ran her fingers over the tops of furniture checking for dust. “Thea and the crew she found are doing a great job. Last night everything in here was covered with dust.” She made the mistake of giving one of the green velvet drapes a shake. It slipped free of a painted gilt monkey wearing a red hat, screwed to the wall and with one of its paws curled to restrain the curtain. Vivian got a fresh whirl of fine debris to make them both sneeze.

  “If you don’t like the question, you change the subject,” he told her.

  At that Vivian returned and stood in front of him. “I do like your strength. I’m also strong-willed and it isn’t always easy for two people like us to be together.”

  “There aren’t any rules to cover any two people who happen to have some traits in common. I like you just the way you are.” He paused long enough to watch her decide he’d complimented her. “You didn’t say why Charlotte’s taking Legrain and Madge to some suite.”

  “Madge hasn’t seen any of the house. It’s an interesting place. Could be very beautiful if we get it in shape,” she said.

  “Pineapples, monkeys, palm trees and all.”

  “Yes,” Vivian said, grinning. “And pineapples and ruby-eyed, probably red glass-eyed, sultans. I want to keep Uncle Guy’s exotic vision for Rosebank. Brought back to what it must have looked like fifteen years ago it’ll be spectacular. If we can ever afford to do anything at all with the place.”

  “Madge told me quite a bit of work’s been done and you want to finish a few rooms so you’ve got money coming in to carry on with,” Spike said.

  “Yes, that’s the plan but even that takes a fair amount to do. And we have to update the kitchens and bring them up to code. Until the real restaurant and a second kitchen is built in the conservatory, we intend to use one of the big rooms in the south wing as a dining room. There’s a lot to work with, but a lot to be done, too.”

  “So Charlotte’s conducting a house tour.”

  Vivian had never been a good liar. “Sort of.”

  Spike rubbed the back of her hand. “What’s up? Can’t be so bad you don’t want to tell me.”

  “They went to see a suite in the east wing. For Gary. He’s going to stay here for a day or two so he can look through all the papers here and see if he can find anything to help with whatever Louis wanted us to know about.”

  Spike breathed in and let the air out very slowly. “Why does he have to stay here to do that? Why does he have to do it at all? Your uncle did his business with Louis, he wouldn’t leave that kind of thing floating around here. It would be in New Orleans like whatever Louis was bringing here had been.”

  Vivian stared into his eyes until they blurred. “The briefcase wasn’t latched,” she said, feeling far away. “Louis’s. That could have been because something was taken out of it before he was killed. Couldn’t it?”

  “Maybe,” Spike said. He was busier thinking about Gary Legrain hanging out here at night. “Yeah, I guess. Or maybe it was already open because he’d been using it and he hadn’t closed it yet.”

  “He wouldn’t have a reason to have it open when he was just going to carry it in here.”

  “That’s not a certainty, Vivian, but it could be.” A lot of things could be and I want you at a safe distance. “We should join Cyrus. Can I trust you to keep your cell turned on if I take a little trip tomorrow?”

  Vivian gave him a sharp look with those green eyes of hers and bowed her head. Black hair slid forward, hiding her face.

  “Now what?” he asked her.

  “Nothing.”

  There was some book about the difference between the way men and women communicated, maybe he should try reading it. “Cher, would you please cut me a little slack here? I already got a tongue lashin’ from Homer for leavin’ Wendy at the rectory so long. He’d been over there and picked her up, which is what he wanted to do, but giving me a hard time adds to his pleasure.” He’d appeal to her gentler nature. “It’s been a very long day and a half for all of us and I might just feel sorta skinny around the edges of my nerves.”

  “Cute,” she said, clearly. “Always the cute comment to smooth things over.”

  “Hoo, Mama, you’re testing me.”

  She shook back her hair and scowled at him. “First you sugarcoat an order for me to hang around with my cell phone in my tiny, trembling hand. Then you talk about taking a trip but don’t say where, when or why. You Tarzan off to get the bananas, me Jane hiding in the tree house we don’t have and waiting to be told what to do next.”

  “Kiss me,” he said, tilting his head.

  “Like hell.”

  Well, he’d known that request might not be a winner. “Let me kiss you, then.”

  She stomped back and forth. “No one kisses anyone. Got that? Why is it that men have such freakin’ lousy timing?”

  “Language, Vivian.” If he told her this exchange lightened his tension she wouldn’t give him a prize. “Okay, listen, I wasn’t being secretive or bossy. And I didn’t know I should have said anythin’ different till you
pointed it out. I’m going to New Orleans tomorrow.”

  “I see.”

  No, she didn’t, but why shouldn’t she…? “Would you come with me? I know how much you’ve got going around here, but if the two of us went we should be able to get through faster.”

  “Through what?”

  “Make this easy on me, Vivian, make it easy, why don’t you? You could just say whether or not you’ll come, then go on with the third degree. I’m goin’ to ask questions. About Louis Martin, and about your father. I want to stop by Martin, Martin and Martin and you could make it easier for me to get in.”

  Vivian put her hands to her cheeks. “You’re going to do some P.I. work for me, too.” She poked the tip of a finger into his vulnerable chest. “What a man you are. I’ll come with you.” Her voice softened at last and she smiled, faintly, sweetly up at him. Her eyes shone, her mouth—and he could already feel it on his—opened slightly and glistened, and he had only one thing in mind.

  This was a big place, they’d figure something out.

  Vivian slipped her arms under his and around his body. She stood just about as close as a woman could stand to a man.

  He rested his cheek on top of her head and stroked her back. He could feel her through the dress, lean his erection against her pelvis. “I like being with you,” he said, preparing to ease her head up and kiss her.

  “Just hold me like this,” Vivian said. “You don’t know how rare it is to find a man who knows how to comfort a woman without trying to push her into something else. I…I like you for that, Spike Devol. Hug me, just hug me tight.”

  Spike put his chin on top of her head and did exactly what she asked. She spread warmth through his body, but she also turned him on so hard it hurt.

  Funny how different men were from women. Hugging hadn’t been what he had in mind—at least not as the entire event.

  This blackmailer will not accept that he cannot control me. He is calling me again.

  “I told you not to contact me anymore,” I tell him.

  He says, “You did well, but you’re unpredictable. I can’t afford your ego. Do you understand me?”

  See how arrogant the man is, how sure of himself? He treats me like a child.

  “It was you who made contact with me,” I say because I will not let him forget the truth. “Guido told you our story. He trusted you to listen and give advice. You know what happened to him because I found out he’d talked. But you couldn’t resist trying to use me. I didn’t start this. What happens is on your shoulders.”

  “Not if you act alone. You were warned not to do anything unless I told you to.” He speaks as if he doesn’t hear me.

  It feels good to laugh at him. “You should have stayed away,” I tell him. “You wanted to use me, you threatened me so I would give you your own way. Now we are joined, you and I. Whatever I do, you might as well have done yourself. If you were capable of it. If I fall, you fall with me, only I shall not fall unless you betray me. I’m sure you won’t do that.”

  “You’ve done your job I tell you. Leave the rest to me.” His breathing is heavy.

  “Do that and I might as well surrender to the authorities.” I will have my way in this. “You cannot do what must be done, and I cannot stop until it is done.”

  “I’m begging you.”

  How soon he forgets how all of this began. “You threatened me with exposure if I didn’t do as you asked. Now you can’t stop what you started. I’m looking forward to the next one.”

  “For God’s sake.” He whispers like a frightened girl. “I promised you I would protect your secret and I will. Now back off.”

  “I enjoy killing women.”

  “What woman?” His throat clicks when he swallows. “No more killing.”

  “I will ask you again. How did you find me? Who told you where I was?” The probable answer makes me shiver with anticipation.

  “You know I can’t tell you that,” he says, predictably.

  The coward is frightened. When he thought he was in command he strutted and postured. Now he whines because he wasn’t clever enough to see what might happen if he actually got his way.

  “There is someone I have not seen for years,” I tell him. “We both know his name. If he knows where I am, if he was the one who told you how to find me, he must suffer for his betrayal of me—just as others already have. Never forget what happened to Guido. Now, you know who the woman is. Pull yourself together. And pray we get what we want.”

  “What we want?” He snorts. “I’m keeping your secret, that’s all.”

  Fool. “But you aren’t thinking, as usual. You have nothing to hold over me anymore. You’re like me now, a wanted man for as long as you live.” My palm itches. I need to hold the knife. “It’s right for her to die. She wants to interfere with the order of things, and she sees too much.”

  “Meet me.” His voice rises. “We have to talk.”

  “I’ll let you know when it’s done,” I tell him. “I’m not sure when, but not too long. First I will decide on the best time and place. You’ll be the third to know.”

  “Who’s the second?” Alarm makes him pant.

  “I am, or perhaps she will be, depending on how you look at it. Later.” I hang up. If he tries to call back, I won’t answer.

  She will fight me. I’ll give her a chance to hit me, kick me, shout at me. Then she’ll have to understand when we spend a little time together first. Violence and sex are perfect partners.

  She’ll be naked when they find her, her white skin decorated by my flawless work, and her blood. I promise I’ll kiss her before I leave.

  Chapter 18

  The third day

  At the Majestic Hotel, L’Oiseau de Nuit stood outside an open door in a corridor painted pea green and carpeted in water-stained brown. Spike remembered, sort of, that the carpets used to have a large chrysanthemum pattern, but a leak in the roof had taken its toll.

  “Why you bring him?” Wazoo said. The tip of a finger protruded from the ragged sleeve of her floor-length black lace coat and pointed steadily at Cyrus. “Pains my mind, him.” She thrust out her palms and shook her hands, fending off poor Cyrus who had yet to take another step toward her.

  “Calm down now, Wazoo,” Spike said. When Wazoo’s call came in, he and Cyrus had been eating together at All Tarted Up and discussing if and how to go forward with Bill Green’s idea to help out the Patins. “Father and I were havin’ breakfast together when your request for help came in. I invited him along.” He had to get out of here in time to meet up with Vivian and he counted on Cyrus to help him do that.

  “Let’s sit down somewhere,” Cyrus suggested. “Spike’s got to leave town but you know how he is, won’t let a citizen down.”

  Wazoo blocked the entrance to her rooms. “Where you go, you?” she said to Spike. “There’s trouble here. You needed.”

  Spike barely suppressed a groan. She was in one of her moods, which meant she wanted an audience and intended to be the one to decide when the performance was over.

  “The longer we stand here, the less time I’ll have to talk with you, Wazoo. The call I got said it was urgent I come here.”

  She shook back the bulk of her long, curly black hair, even pushed it from her face. Spike had not seen her so clearly until now.

  Cyrus shifted and Spike guessed they were having similar thoughts. At this distance and without the tumble of hair over her features, Wazoo’s age wasn’t a mystery. Maybe thirty, but no more. And she was quite beautiful in a thin-faced, black-eyed way. Large eyes, exaggerated by heavy, dark green lines painted around them. Her hair shone and the curls had been brushed. Spike had never seen her take such trouble with herself before.

  “You enter, you,” she told Spike and hesitated, close to snarling at Cyrus. “And you. But L’Oiseau feel it if you try your powers.”

  The room they entered wasn’t what Spike had expected. It had been turned into a sitting room for Wazoo and spartan took on a new meaning. He glan
ced at Cyrus who looked around with open curiosity. The only furniture was a black-lacquered chest inlaid with colored glass and surrounded by a ring of straight-back chairs. On the trunk rested a crystal ball that made Spike want to laugh. The word hokey came to mind. Small embroidered bags in two tidy stacks flanked the ball. Everything was clean.

  “You don’t come near, you,” Wazoo said to Cyrus, curling her lip as if he disgusted her. “Spike, sit down.” She swept a hand over the embroidered bags and said, “I read your cards?”

  “I’ll stand, thanks. Like I said, I’ve gotta leave.”

  “Like I say, where you goin’?”

  He laughed at her impudence. “Not your business but if it’ll speed this up any, I’ve got business in the Quarter.”

  A smile spread across her lips and she rocked from foot to foot. “I know this. I have to test you to see if you honest with L’Oiseau.”

  “If you’re psychic, or whatever,” Cyrus said in his reasonable tone, “you shouldn’t need tests to be sure Spike’s telling the truth.”

  She ignored him. “I’m talkin just to you, me,” she told Spike. “You the golden one. Truth, and so sexy. Oh, yes, you a sexy truthful man.”

  Spike ran two fingers beneath his collar.

  “All that tellin’ the truth probably mean you suffer a lot in your life.” She shook out her skirts and stood closer to Spike. Had he seen a glimpse of scarlet petticoat under the layers of black? She tilted her head and smiled up at him. “You and the Patin girl share your bodies yet?”

  Spike missed a few beats before he found his voice. “What did you want to talk to me about?” Just the mention of making love with Vivian had a predictable result. He changed his mind and sat down after all.

  “Now you,” Wazoo said in a hoarse whisper, pointing at Cyrus again. “You a sexy man, too, but you hide.”