by Tina DeSalvo
Beau knew Ben was as shocked by the old lady opening the secret nook near the fireplace as he was. His cousin’s eyes were steady and his expression contained, but Beau knew he'd had no idea that the hiding spot existed, and he’d lived in the house longer than anyone else in the family. That included Tante Izzy, who had been born in the house. If Ben didn't know every nook and cranny, then neither did anyone else.
Still, Beau decided he'd ask Tante Izzy when she returned from her casino trip if she knew of it. Not only had his years as an attorney taught him never to leave anything to chance or supposition, his personal experiences had, too.
Ben started to get up out of his chair, and Beau put his hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down. “No," he said quietly. "Let the ladies play out whatever their game is.” Ben nodded.
“I’ll take a few slices while it’s still hot,” Ben said, and slid four slices of pizza from the pizza box Beau held with one hand onto the top paper plate that Beau held in his other hand.
“Here are some napkins.” Beau gave him a handful. “I know you’ll need them.” Beau walked to where Jewell spoke softly in French to her grand-mère. It wasn’t Cajun French, he noted, or he might be able to pick up a few words and figure out what they were saying. Instead they communicated with the sophisticated French spoken in France. Who were they? What did they want? Were they planning to use Elli as part of some surreptitious scheme? If so, for what ends? Or, were they what they first had appeared to be—a sweet, but awkward granddaughter chasing after her grandmother?
Hell, he’d even thought the granddaughter was sexy and pretty in an exotic sort of way. Creamy café au lait skin, wide milk chocolate eyes, full shapely lips and interesting arching brows. She was…alluring. In fact, everything about her labeled her as a hottie, a fox, a knockout...from her full round, high breasts, well-shaped curved derrière , trim narrow waist to her fluid, almost rhythmic movements. She looked like sex on a lazy Sunday afternoon. That is, everything except for the way she dressed.
Her neat but old jeans, blue golf shirt and brightly painted ladybug Wellies knock-offs were average, unremarkable and bordering on plain. It was a strange mix. He would’ve thought someone with her shape and sensual nature would be in a micro mini skirt, plunging neckline and man-killer heels, and wearing more makeup than the little bit around her eyes that she had on now.
Yeah, it was as weird as her alluring scent—warm, sweet and a little bit spicy. Did she wear that fragrance to distract, misdirect? There was definitely more than what appeared on the surface. He’d bet his law practice on that.
Beau placed the pizza boxes and paper plates on the coffee table in front of them. “Hungry?”
Mignon Duet and Ben’s dogs immediately moved toward the table.
Ben snapped his fingers and his dogs heeled. No surprise there. Jewell grabbed her grandmother’s arm to stop her from opening the top pizza box. Her grandmother didn’t look very happy about it.
Jewell Duet, why was that name so familiar? All Things Antique didn’t ring a bell, but her name sure did.
“What? I’m hungry,” Mignon complained. Beau noticed that her granddaughter’s cheeks blushed a pretty pink as she subtly shook her head in silent communication with her grandmother. So she could telegraph her thoughts to the old lady as he and Ben did.
Beau opened the box and smiled at the grandmother. “Do you like meat-lovers’ pizza?” he asked, pulling a slice onto a plate with a napkin.
“I prefer olives and artichokes, but this will do,” she said taking the plate. He handed her a fresh napkin.
“Would you like a slice, Jewell?”
She shook her head, causing her long silky ponytail to swish across her back. “No, thank you.” Her eyes darted to the footstool as if she wanted to examine it, but she didn’t want to be obvious about it.
“You said your business is All Things Antique?” Beau asked Jewell, pulling the chair that was near the fireplace closer to the sofa. Closer to her enticing scent. Ben reached around him and grabbed a couple more slices of pizza and gave a crooked forced smile to the ladies, before going into the kitchen, the dogs at his heels. Jewell’s fragrance certainly didn’t seem to affect his cousin one bit. He actually may not have even smelled it. Interesting.
Beau kept his eyes locked on her. Her eyes were bright, anxious. “Um, yes. You've heard of my business?” she finally answered, her voice steady, even.
“No.” He took a bite of pizza and chewed. “Where are you from?”
“New Orleans.”
“How did you and Elli meet?”
“She mentioned getting my phone number from my direct-mail flyer and from speaking with one of my clients here in Cane.” She picked up the crumbs from her grandmother’s lap and placed them onto a napkin. “I just finished their estate sale today.”
“More a garage sale if you ask me,” Mignon said around a mouthful of pizza. “Only good thing they had there was this nice collection of rings.” She put the pizza on her lap and the paper plate on top of it before extending her hands for Beau to see the rings. He stood, leaned over the coffee table to look at the old battered rings.
“Very nice.” He smiled and Mignon smiled back at him. He glanced at Jewell who was looking down at the footstool again. “Your name sounds familiar.”
“She’s very famous,” Mignon interjected. Jewell placed her hand on her grandmother’s knee. Beau knew it was to silence her. So, she didn’t really want him to know who she was. “Not as famous as her momma.” Mignon nodded and wagged her eyebrows.
Jewell stood. Her scent wafted over him. “I think we should reschedule our appointment with Elli.” She took a clean napkin and wiped the table near her grandmother. “It’s going to be late by the time we get back to New Orleans. Besides it has been a long day. We should be heading home.”
“I am home, ma sucrée,” Mignon's tone left no room for discussion.
“I know I said we might sleep in the camper here at Sugar Mill, Mimi, depending on when Elli wanted us to begin work, but we really should head back to New Orleans now.”
“Oh, mon Dieu. Do you have rocks for brains? I said I’m home.” She looked at Beau. “Get me a blanket. I can sleep right here in front of the fire.” She looked at the fireplace. “Where’s the fire? Why isn’t there a fire? There’s always a fire in the evening. Even in the summer. The gentlemen’s pipes don’t smell so bad when they’re in here and the fire’s going and the flue is open.”
What in the hell was going on here? Beau stood. He'd told Ben not to show his hand, but he had about enough of this cryptic story telling from the old lady. “Jewell, what is she talking about?”
“I…uh…” she stammered.
“Hello,” Elli shouted from the back entrance of the house. A dog howled and another barked to echo her master’s call. Beau heard her hurried steps as she and two of her dogs raced into the parlor and straight to Jewell who easily patted them on the head. Elli's short wavy blonde hair was in its usual perfect sassy mess. Not that he knew anything about cosmetics, but he could see that it had been applied with a light expert hand, making her pretty light blue eyes pop and her full mouth shine. She looked like she was in hurry, but not one bit anxious. In fact, she looked coolly sophisticated in her dark jeans, tan California bohemian blouse and fancy running shoes, “Oh, I’m so very sorry I’m late.” Her dogs, Doe and Jenny, circled around Jewell and sniffed her ladybug boots.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Elli said, pulling the dogs away from Jewell. “They have a thing for rubber boots,” she smiled. “They practically maimed Tante Izzy when they first met her. They tried to rob her of her shrimp boots and knocked the poor woman down in the garden in the process. Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”
Elli dragged Doe and Jenny out the front door and quickly returned. She gave Jewell the kind of warm hug that was usually only shared by old friends, not women who had never met before. It wasn’t lost on Beau how different the women were standing there, one blonde and fai
r in running shoes and the other with creamy caramel-colored-skin and long, very dark, silky hair wearing ladybug rubber boots. Yet, there were similarities, too. Both were tall, lean, with intelligent eyes.
“I’m sorry, the dogs are so much better behaved than when I first got them, but…” she shrugged and didn’t finish her sentence. She didn’t have to; their earlier rambunctious behavior did it for her. “I hope Ben and Beau made you feel welcome,” she smiled, “and this guy didn’t turn all his charm on you,” she laughed looking at Beau. “The last female visitor I had here needed oxygen after meeting Beau,” she laughed.
“Not because of me,” Beau smiled. “She had asthma. Allergic to dog hair.”
“Funny it didn’t bother her in the hour before you arrived and started flirting with her.”
Beau threw up his hands in surrender. “I’m sticking with my defense. Dog hair.”
Jewell was smiling. A pretty, wide-mouthed, unguarded smile. For a few moments he thought about how nice it would be to see her smiling at him over a nice dinner with good wine at Antoine’s. Then he caught sight of the grandmother from the corner of his eyes staring at the fireplace. She looked confused and maybe even a bit annoyed. He better keep his wits about him with this woman, he thought, looking at Jewell again. She had skills. If you could call smiling like she did skills. Hell, yeah. He called that a skill.
“Well, I’m just glad they didn’t ignore you both because the Saints game was on,” Elli continued.
“They beat the dirty birds,” Mignon interrupted. She threw up her hand to give Beau a high-five, which he immediately obliged. “I don’t remember the score, though,” she frowned. “Tell her, Mr. Knucklehead. Tell her the final score.”
Elli laughed. “Yes, Mr. Knucklehead, tell me the score.”
Beau couldn’t help but laugh, too. “17 to 14.”
“That’s football, right?” Elli grasped Jewell’s hands and tugged. “Let’s go into the kitchen for some tea, organic lavender cookies and MoonPies. We can discuss business there,” Elli said, then turned to Beau. “Where’s Ben?”
Elli was suddenly swept around and into the arms of her husband in a huge, embrace. “Here I am, chère. Missed me?” He kissed her full on the lips. She looked up into his Bienvenu spring green eyes, and Beau had a moment of real envy seeing how much she loved him…and he loved her. It wasn’t the first time he felt it and it certainly never lasted more than thirty seconds, but he got it nonetheless. He glanced at Jewell, who was smiling a timid, sweet, tender smile looking at them.
“I had a man who loved me like that,” Mignon announced. “Kissed me a lot, too.” She nodded and her tight curls bobbed. “Too bad he was married.”
“Mimi,” Jewell groaned. “Dear God. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t you apologize, ma sucrée.” Mignon shook her head. “It was a grand love affair. And I got your momma from it. Without her, I wouldn’t have you.”
“Elli, I'd love that tea now.” Jewell stood abruptly.
“I’m staying here,” Mignon announced. “I want to take a nap.” She immediately leaned her head against the back of the sofa and closed her eyes.
Jewell looked at Elli. “I’m so sorry. I did explain the situation to you. She’s vocal but she won’t interfere with my work.”
“She’s darling.” Elli left Ben’s side and grabbed Jewell’s hand, then led her out of the room, saying over her shoulder, “You two men don’t mind making sure Miss Mignon is comfy, do you?”
“She already looks comfortable to me,” Ben said, waving his wife on. “What in the hell is going on with these women?” He whispered, looking at the old lady who was fast asleep and making little snuffling sounds. Ben walked to where Mignon had opened the secret nook. Beau joined him.
“It can’t be good.” Beau said, his voice hushed even though he didn’t think there was much of a chance that Mignon would wake. He stepped closer to where Ben squatted and ran his hand along the side of the wainscoting. The latch released with soft snap. “I’ll be damned.” The door swung open and Beau bent over and looked inside the dark, wooden nook. “Empty.”
“It wasn’t about thirty minutes ago.”
Beau pulled out his cell phone and started a Google search of Jewell Duet. Who was she, really? Why was her name so familiar to him? He typed in her name. “Well, I’ll be a son of a…”
“What?” Ben interrupted.
“She’s Dr. Jewell Duet.” He looked at Ben. “She's the leading antiquities expert in the state of Louisiana. And she was a professor at Tulane University up until the spring semester when she was asked to step down.” He looked at Ben. “You don’t remember her? She used to be interviewed on the news whenever they needed an antiquities expert. Then, she was on the news a lot this past spring and summer because she was charged with felony theft.”
“Were there any dogs on agility courses or in any rescue trials in any of those news stories she was in? Or were there any football games or scores?” Ben said, one brow cocked. “If not, I’m sure I never saw her on the tube. I don’t have time for idle TV watching, cuz.”
With a shake of his head, Beau grinned as he leaned against the fireplace mantel. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m watching out for you and the family. You might just get sucker punched otherwise. I read. I watch. I observe. It’s why I get paid the big bucks.”
“Not by me,” Ben grunted, “which reminds me. You still didn’t bill me for those contracts you drafted.”
Beau rapped his knuckles on the wall near the secret latch, not happy that a thief was in his family’s home. “We're talking about the sexy brunette that smells like smooth sex in a fast car. Stay focused.” Beau looked at his phone again, his stomach knotting the more he read. “According to this news report, the New Orleans DA has a solid case against her. They have everything but the proverbial smoking gun. The stolen items have never been recovered.” He sucked in a breath and looked at Ben. “Crap, man. This is really bad. She’s accused of gaining the family’s trust and confidence, gaining access to very valuable pearls, diamonds and gold, and stealing it. She did this at one of the estates she was working. I remember the news accounts now. Apparently, she picked the wrong people to rob. I don’t see a name, but from what I remember, they went after her like soldiers battling an invading army. The family is Old New Orleans money. Connections. They threw their influence at her like heavy artillery.”
He searched a few more items, feeling his muscles tense in his shoulders and neck with each article he clicked on. “Yeah, here it is,” Beau said. “The reason we never heard who the family is.” His eyes met Ben’s. “A gag order was issued, so the exact details of the case weren’t released to the media. Interesting. The article says the gag order was issued by Judge Marcus Brunello to protect the privacy and security of the victims.” Beau rubbed a hand over the tight muscles at the back of his neck. “That’s unusual in a theft case. In a sexual assault case or one involving minors, yes. For theft, that is highly unusual procedure.”
He remained silent as he read further, and then continued. “It doesn’t reveal anything more.” He looked at Ben. “This is the New Orleans judicial system, so who knows what's really going on here. The rational thinking is that the judge is privy to all the facts of the case, so for him to place a gag order, he must have seen just cause for it.” Beau thought about that a moment. “He must’ve thought the victims needed to be protected or there was sensitive information that he wanted sealed either because of the investigation or because of who may have been damaged by the information.” Beau looked down at his phone again. “It’s very unusual.” He swiped his finger across his phone as he read silently, before speaking again. “Well, there hasn’t actually been a conviction…yet. Dr. Duet’s case still has to go to trial.”
“Great.” Ben blew a heavy breath. “My wife hired a known thief and invited her into our home to look through our personal things.”
Beau looked at his phone in silence reading another newspaper article t
hat he had pulled up. “I’ll have to research this further, make a few calls. I have more questions than answers, Ben. We do know a few things though from these articles, and from what I remember from cocktail discussions with some of my peers.” He started lifting a finger for each point he made. “First, the DA and the legal community think she’s a thief. I don’t know why we shouldn’t believe that, too.” He cursed under his breath. “She hasn’t been convicted yet, and there are a lot of pieces to this crime we don’t know, but we do know that she had opportunity being there to work at the family estate.” He lifted a second finger. “We also know that she’s a hell of a researcher and she’s really good at what she does.”
“Talk about overqualified for the job of cleaning our dirty attic and shed.”
“Or not qualified at all to clean anything,” Beau interjected. “Probably nobody wants to touch her in New Orleans with a ten-foot pole. She’s definitely unemployable.”
Ben grunted. “Except by my wife. We get her by default.” Ben shook his head. “Her troubles will make her more desirable to Elli—she wants to save the world. When Dr. Duet comes back in here, let’s ask her what the deal is with the charges against her and the secret nook.” Ben ran his hand over the hidden latch to release the door again. The door swung open. Mignon sat up in her seat and looked right at them but she didn’t say a word. She grabbed the footstool and carried it to the nook and placed it back inside and closed the door.
“Momma said we should keep everything tidy for the morning.” She turned, but instead of walking back to the sofa, she climbed into Ben’s recliner. After a minute of struggling with the handle to lift the leg-rest, she gave up and closed her eyes. Beau walked over to her and lifted the leg-rest for her. He got an old quilt from where it was folded in a basket behind the sofa and laid it over Mignon. She might be trouble. She might be up to no good. But she was an old lady who looked lost and tired right now.