Jewell (A Second Chance Novel Book 2)

by Tina DeSalvo

  “Apples and oranges,” Elli stated. “There isn’t an entire estate to appraise. Just old neglected stuff in the barn.” She sighed.

  “That’s true, but I wouldn’t go as far as saying it’s completely different than what you have here,” Beau said, his tone friendly. As frustrating as he felt about Elli’s kind nature right now, it was what made her such a special person. He stood and walked to the coffee pot for a refill. “We know that she is accused of stealing valuable family jewelry, but we don’t know exactly how she did it.” He filled his cup. “Did she swipe them when no one was looking? Talk someone into handing it over to her?”

  “My bet is on a heist,” Ben said, leaning back in his chair. “A sophisticated one with retractable cables and night vision goggles. Maybe she shimmied down a cable from a balcony and did contorted gymnastic moves so as to not set off the alarm system as she made her way through a web of lasers.” Elli shook her head and narrowed her gaze to show her disapproval, but her eyes gave away that she wasn’t angry with her husband. She was used to the way he and Beau constantly joked with one another. “Oh, and maybe, her grandmother helped her. Do you think she was an accomplice?”

  Beau took a deep breath and looked at his cousin. “Of course not,” he said, his voice low, serious. “Mignon couldn’t have tiptoed past the sensitive alarms in her orthopedic shoes, no matter how many handstands she did.”

  He smiled, then before their messing around went any further, his eyes settled on the folder on the table. It seemed to draw his attention as if it had special powers. The seriousness of the situation weighed down on him again, as it had just moments before Ben started with his playful scenario.

  “While the imagery of all that is humorous,” he began, his tone serious, “the situation we have here isn’t.” He tapped the folder.

  Ben sobered. “He’s right, Elli,” he told his wife. “Tell us what you found out, Beau.”

  “I know that it was Claude Monroe, the grandson and lone heir, who filed charges against her.” Beau returned to his chair, not happy with the way Elli was frowning at him. This time her eyes matched her expression. She was indeed unhappy with this conversation. Beau directed his attention to Ben, who at least seemed open to listening to what he was saying. “He’s also the one who asked the judge for the gag order on not releasing the name of his family and the details of how the items were stolen. He requested it because he was concerned for his security. He felt like if people knew how vulnerable the family was and how much they were worth, it would put a big target on his back.” He shrugged. “The bottom line for us is that you have to consider that if a person is capable of stealing what doesn’t belong to them once, they can do it again.”

  Elli sighed and sat in the chair next to Ben. “Beau, a person is innocent until proven guilty. I know you believe that. You should know as well as anyone else that often not all is what it seems to be on the surface.” She looked at him with big blue insightful eyes. What she said was true some of the time, but not all of the time. He couldn’t risk the ‘not all of the time’ with his family. “Look what happened to Abby and me. I was just recently released of all suspicions, but because she’s CFO, and they are still trying to follow the money trail, she’s still under investigation in the case involving the crook who scammed and embezzled from us. He stole from us. We were the victims, and we were the ones who were investigated.” She waved her hand in dismissal. “It’s nonsense. Innocent until proven guilty. End of story.”

  “She has a point,” Ben said, in a monotone voice, as he continued to read from the folder.

  “I think it is highly suspect that she arrives here at Sugar Mill with her elderly grandmother and that grandmother finds a hidden nook ten minutes after arriving. A nook that no one knew about in what… at least thirty plus years, maybe longer?”

  “Beau has a point,” Ben said, his eyes focused on what he was reading from the folder. “Of course, if she’s trying to steal from us like she allegedly did on a previous job, why would she have her grandmother reveal a secret hiding spot? That’s strange." He glanced over to his wife. “What does she gain by doing that? Why not just gain access to the property and steal what she wants?”

  Beau felt an odd twinge in his chest as he observed the couple's silent communication. He'd never had that kind of connection with a woman. Not that he needed or wanted it. He did just fine with the ladies without exchanging meaningful glances filled with subtext.

  “She’s a smart lady,” he told them. “You don’t get a doctorate degree by being top of your remedial classes. With her current legal problems, she has to know we will be watching her closely. She’ll have to be clever to gain our confidence. To get away with theft.” He nodded. “She might have an intricate plan laid out that has more twists and turns than Bayou Dos Gris.” He ignored Elli when she sighed in disapproval. “She may have discovered that secret nook in some old book, documents or architectural drawings. Maybe she found some old building plans for Sugar Mill.” He turned the mug in his palm. “She must do a lot of research as an antiques expert and as a professor. It’s conceivable that she's stumbled on old documents that the average person would never see.” He rested his elbows on the table. “Old papers that may have hinted or revealed information on our little family secret with our missing heir.”

  “Or, maybe, and hear me out, fellas,” Elli began, her eyes wide, her brows lifted and sounding a bit too dramatic, “maybe she’s just an antiques expert who's down on her luck, has been falsely accused of a crime and is in need of work. Imagine that. Jewell Duet is exactly who she says she is with no ulterior motives.” Elli slapped the table, causing Jenny, the Lab mix, to bark once in surprise.

  Ben leaned back in his seat and folded his arms over his chest. “Elli, let’s say that Beau’s right.” He hesitated a moment, and Beau saw that Ben didn’t like seeing his wife frown. He leaned forward, covered her hand gently with his. “Just for argument’s sake, chère. Shouldn’t we at least know how we’d be affected by a devious scheme to con us into believing she’s a missing heir? Shouldn’t we be prepared?” He tucked a curl behind her ear. “If we’re aware that Jewell may know of the trust fund that was set aside in Great-grand-pépère’s will for his missing daughter, Martine, she can’t dupe us, right?”

  Beau cleared his throat. “It’s not that simple.” He looked at both of them who now had their light eyes intently focused on him. “Sure, we can be vigilant.” He exhaled. “But, we have to be smarter than the Professor. We have to scrutinize, analyze and most importantly realize that everything she is doing could be to bring her to her end goal.”

  “I don’t have time for that,” Ben said, looking at Elli. “You don’t either with that big-budget movie coming here so soon and with us taking Joey to the beach for fall break when he gets back from Boy Scout camp.”

  Beau nodded. “Safer to turn her around and send her back to New Orleans then.”

  “I don’t want to do that.” Elli looked at Ben. “I like her. I don’t think she’s trying to do what you two fear.”

  “There’s a good bit of money in Aunt Martine’s trust with the original sum and the interest collected over the last seventy-two years,” Beau reminded them, not adding the additional funds with the investments he and Ben’s father had made through the years with the interest.

  “That could be very tempting for someone who needs money. Who’s down on their luck,” Ben added. “Worse-case scenario, she cons us.” He looked at Beau who wasn’t happy with the way this train of thought was shaping up. “She gets the trust but she can’t take our home away from us or change our lives. That would be unfair and wrong. It wouldn’t really change any of our lives, but for you, Elli, it would change something in you. You’d have to live with the knowledge that someone you trusted and defended took advantage of us. That would hurt you. I don’t like risking that.”

  “I appreciate your concerns,” Elli said to Ben. “I love that you are concerned about me. But, the bottom line is
that I really don’t think Jewell is trying to steal from us. I just don’t.”

  Beau blew out a breath and scratched his freshly shaven jaw. “I hate that she might be scamming my family. End of story. And, to be honest, the first moment I laid eyes on her, bells went off…”

  “Oh, really,” Elli’s voice lifted, her eyes brightened.

  “Don’t get all romantic on me. I don’t believe in that crap. Remember, it’s me, the guy who lives for the one-week affair.” He shook his head. “No, they were warning bells. I know scams. I know the kind of people who run them. I cut my baby teeth watching the biggest reprobate feed his family, and especially his heavy drinking habits, on the scam.” He paused to refocus his thoughts on the problem at hand and not old history. “Bringing Dr. Duet here and taking the risk isn’t just about us and how we’ll all feel getting duped,” he said, not wanting to sound insensitive but wanting them to realize all of the ramifications. “If the real Aunt Martine shows up two years from now, or her son or daughter does, we need to be good wards of the trust and make sure their money is here for them. And, if not for them, for the entire Bienvenu family.”

  “I understand your concerns about this, Beau,” Elli said, looking upset. “It’s not fair to put this worry on Jewell if she is innocent, though.”

  Beau leaned back in his chair. “Jewell isn’t my concern. Our family is. I’m sorry if that sounds cold to you.” He took a sip of his coffee. “When Ben’s father died, he named Ben and me trustees of the Martine Trust. I take my responsibility seriously. Just like I know Ben does.”

  Ben squeezed Elli’s hand. “He’s right.” She nodded.

  “And, I know you both know this,” Beau continued, “but let me remind you that on Martine’s one-hundred-and-twenty-fifth birthday, this special trust will expire and all of the money in the trust will be distributed to every single living heir of her father, Aguste Bienvenu. We need to be good wards to all of them, too.” Beau leaned his elbows on the table. “And, consider this. Jewell can certainly try to claim ownership of the entire plantation. She could claim Martine was wronged in some way and that the plantation is rightfully hers and her heirs. Anyone can sue over just about anything in Louisiana.”

  “You're creating a worry where there is none,” Elli pursed her lips like she’d just eaten a sour grape.

  “Someone has to worry for the family.” He looked at Ben, knowing Elli was already feeling some sort of loyalty and empathy to Jewell and Mignon. “Like I told you when we were hashing out the twisted wills of what you and Elli inherited,” he continued. “There are some Napoleonic laws and court decisions that have been rendered that, if applied in this case, would definitely affect your lives. If nothing else, it would drag y’all into the courts for years because of the will’s complicated legal nature. This isn’t a path you want to go down unless it is absolutely necessary. You certainly don’t want to fight this expensive battle because a con artist and her grandmother seem nice.”

  “I hear what you are saying, Beau,” Elli said, shaking her head. “And, considering I was once a victim of a con, completely blindsided by it, I can’t say I entirely trust my judgment on this.” She sighed. “I want to, though, because my heart and head are telling me Jewell and Mignon are good people. I can tell you that I don’t agree with your worries, but I recognize you're an intelligent man with our best interest at heart. I will be cautious. I care about our family, too. I'll keep my eyes open. I just can’t be part of an injustice executed on Jewell and Mignon. I can’t. And, I think Ben agrees, right?” She looked at her husband, and he nodded.

  “Is there anything I can say to change your mind?” Beau asked, knowing that he’d reached an impasse, but having to try one more time.

  “I can’t fire her. That wouldn’t be fair to her without evidence to do so. She hasn’t been convicted of any crime with the Monroe’s estate. The charges against her may be totally false. And she hasn’t done anything to scam or con us or even hint that she plans to.” She narrowed her eyes and shrugged her shoulders. “Besides all of that, I need her to perform the work I contracted her to do.” She smiled a half smile. “We have good happy lives. Let’s enjoy them, now. Joie de vivre,” she added, massacring the French pronunciation but doing it with complete enthusiasm.

  “Damn, she’s cute,” Ben grinned, looking at Elli, “and sexy when she tries to talk Cajun.” He winked at his wife but when he returned his attention to Beau, the light faded in his eyes. “I stand by Elli’s decision,” he said.

  Beau knew Ben was concerned. He’d seen Mignon open that hidden nook and was shocked by it. He just didn’t want to worry his wife about this any further. “I’ve got some dogs to train. Elli has a movie crew to prepare for.” He pretended to shudder, then leaned over to kiss his wife on the cheek. “And we have to do it all before we leave for the beach. You, cuz, I’m sure, have some legal crap to deal with.” He stood, placed his bowl of cereal and empty coffee mug in the sink. He gave Elli a tender kiss on the lips. “I’ll see you at lunch,” he told her. He turned to Beau. “Walk out with me.” When they stepped outside, Ben spoke as they made their way toward their parked vehicles. “You're going to keep digging, right?”

  “Hell, yeah. I won’t let anyone steal from my family.”

  “For her to stake a claim on that money, Beau, she’d have to produce the heir.” Ben opened his truck door and motioned for Lucky to jump in. “A legitimate heir. The long-lost Bienvenu daughter, Martine Bienvenu.” He motioned for Beau to look behind him toward the back door of the house where Mignon Duet was shuffling toward the back steps, awkwardly using her cane for balance. She was wearing an off-white robe and tan orthopedic shoes. “Dig away.”

  “I’ve got some time before I have to leave for court. No time like the present.” Ben got in his truck and drove away. Beau rushed to Mignon and helped her up the steps into the house. “Good morning, Mignon.”

  “Bon matin.” She smiled up at him. Her hair was mostly styled in front, but the back was flattened from where she’d slept on the pillow. Beau noticed that she fumbled to hold her cane in one hand. On closer inspection, he realized that was because she had the glass salt shaker in her hand. The pepper shaker was in her other hand. Why weren’t the shakers on the kitchen table where they belonged?

  When they got inside the house, she walked slowly over the smooth wooden floor into the kitchen. “Bon matin,” she told Elli, placing the salt and pepper shakers in the middle of the table, taking an extra moment to adjust them so they were neatly placed.

  “Good morning,” Elli said, her eyes bright and friendly. “Would you like some coffee?”

  Mignon sat at the table and smiled at Beau who sat next to her before answering Elli. “With boiled milk and sugar.”

  “That’s how Tante Izzy likes it,” she said, putting a small blue ceramic pot on the stove. “Cane sugar, I presume is your preference, too.” She paused a moment, looked at Beau and frowned. “I know what you’re thinking,” she whispered. Mignon didn’t seem to pay attention to her. She was too busy adjusting the salt and pepper shakers on the table again. “If she is you know who then the person with you know who would’ve just knocked at the door and said…you know what. The person with you know who wouldn’t have come here for work with her, not saying anything about you know who.”

  “Maybe the person with you know who, doesn’t have enough proof to get you know who declared you know what in a court of law. Yet. Or she isn’t you know who at all.”

  “I once got declared in a court of law,” Mignon said, “Not like Tony Gustavo, who kept taking off his clothes in Jackson Square and climbing up with Andrew Jackson on his horse.” She clucked her tongue. “The statue, not the real Andrew Jackson. He’s been dead a long time.”

  “You were declared?” Beau asked, moving his chair closer to Jewell’s grandmother. Having Mignon walk in without her fierce protector might actually give him the chance to figure out what her granddaughter was up to. “For what?”

&
nbsp; She wiped the salt shaker with the hem of her sleeve. “I did not have to go to the mental house in Mandeville with Tony. If that’s what you’re asking.” She shook her head and laughed. “Don’t burn the milk, now,” she instructed Elli. “You have the flame too high.”

  She clearly didn’t want to answer his question, Beau realized, so he decided to get other answers for now. He could check court records to find out what she was talking about. He smiled at Mignon. “I enjoyed hearing you speak French last night,” he continued, making sure his voice was easy, friendly. “I do love the sound of Parisian French. It has a different rhythm than Cajun French. Are you from France?”

  “Cajun French sounds muddier,” she laughed. “It’s country talk. Tu comprends?” When she looked at him he saw that her eyes looked clear and focused. The lines from her pillow and the disheveled hair told him she hadn’t been awake long, but her mind seemed clearer this morning than it had been the night before.

  He nodded. “Comme ci, comme ça. So-so,” he repeated in English. “I understand a little.”

  “Qui,” she said with a heavy French accent. “I was born there.” Her tone was light. Her expression friendly. “But we came to America when I was a baby so I don’t remember it. I was too young when we came to America. My momma was from France, though. She insisted we know the language of our heritage. I did the same for my Jewell.”

  Okay. They were getting somewhere. And, she hadn’t called him Mr. Knucklehead or Monsignor Jacques. She knew who he was and she’d given him a clue to who she was. “What was your mother’s name?”