Death Tidies Up

by Barbara Colley

  As if someone turned up the volume, the voices grew more clear and distinct.

  “She’s coming to.” Janet’s voice.

  “I knew I shouldn’t have let her go up there in the first place.” Cheré.

  Charlotte was confused. What were they talking about? And what on earth was she doing on the floor? “Wh—what happened?” she whispered. But as soon as the words left her mouth, it all came back.

  “You passed out, Auntie,” Judith told her, confirming Charlotte’s own conclusions.

  “Here, Monroe.” Louis’ face swam into her vision just behind Judith. He handed Judith what looked like a wet cloth of some kind. “All I had was a handkerchief, but it’s clean.”

  “Thanks, Lou.” When Judith began blotting Charlotte’s forehead and cheeks, Charlotte pushed away her niece’s hand yet again.

  “I’m okay, hon. Please stop making such a fuss.”

  “Yeah, right, Aunt Charley. You’re just peachy. That’s why you passed out.”

  “Judith.” Emily Coleman appeared. “Here’s some water.” She handed Judith a cup.

  “Thanks, Emily.” Judith took the cup. “Drink this, Auntie.”

  “I’m not thirsty.”

  “Drink it anyway.”

  Only because arguing was too big an effort did Charlotte finally give in and allow Judith to lift her head enough to drink the water.

  Behind them, out of Charlotte’s line of vision, a gruff male voice called out, “Hey, Judith!”

  Judith gently lowered Charlotte’s head back onto the floor again, then turned toward the direction of the voice. “Yeah, Will.”

  “I’m going on up and check out the D.B.,” he said.

  Judith stiffened, and Charlotte saw her hand tighten around the wet handkerchief. “Wait up a minute, Will, and I’ll go with you.”

  Only because Charlotte knew her niece so well was she able to detect the slight edge in her tone. That and the panicky look on Judith’s face confirmed what she’d suspected when she’d first talked to Louis about her niece’s new partner. Something was going on between the two, something that Louis was aware of and didn’t like, judging from his attitude.

  “I’m okay, hon,” Charlotte reassured Judith. “Go do your job.”

  “I’ve got a better idea,” Louis drawled. “Monroe, you stay here with Charlotte, and I’ll go baby-sit Willy boy.”

  “Now, Lou. Take it easy.”

  Louis shot Judith a smug look. “I’ve been around a long time, little girl, and believe you me, I can handle that snotty hotshot with one arm tied behind my back.”

  “Lou, don’t—”

  But either Louis didn’t hear her or he purposely ignored her. “Hey, Richeaux,” he yelled. “Wait up.”

  Charlotte caught the look of alarm on Judith’s face, and while her niece was distracted, she pushed herself up off the floor. “What on earth is going on?” she asked, easing herself into a sitting position. “Is there a problem with this Will character?”

  “Nothing,” Judith murmured distractedly, her gaze following the two men heading for the stairs. “Nothing’s going on.”

  “Nothing, my foot,” Charlotte scoffed. “Something’s going on and I want to know what.”

  Judith didn’t answer until the men had disappeared up the staircase. “Give it a rest, Auntie,” she said, turning her attention back to Charlotte. “Believe me, now is not the time or the place.” She cast another worried glance toward the stairs. Then, with a sigh, she turned back to Charlotte. “I hate to, but if you’re feeling up to it, I need to ask you some questions, Auntie. But when we’re finished here, I want you to have one of your crew drive you home. And when you get there, I want you to promise me that you’ll call Hank and tell him about this fainting spell you just had.”

  The best defense is an offense. Charlotte knew her niece was worried about her, but she was also well aware that Judith was purposely changing the subject. Before she could protest, though, Judith shook her finger at her. “If you don’t tell him, I will,” she threatened. “When’s the last time you had a good checkup?”

  Charlotte pursed her lips stubbornly and glared back at her niece.

  Judith’s eyes narrowed. “Uh-huh! Just as I thought. You can’t even remember, can you? Well, it’s past time. Now promise me you’ll call him.”

  Charlotte released a heavy sigh. Judith was right. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a checkup. But there hadn’t been a reason to go running to a doctor, she consoled herself. It was probably just the stress of the moment. After all, it wasn’t every day that she found a half-naked dead man. And up until then, she’d felt just fine.

  Liar, liar, pants on fire. Well, almost fine, she amended. She had been a bit more tired than usual lately. But the thought of turning sixty was enough to make anyone tired. Wasn’t it? Of course it was.

  But you fainted…you passed out cold…. Charlotte grimaced. Bottom line was that in spite of all of her excuses, and as much as she would have liked to pretend that she hadn’t fainted, she had.

  “Aunt Char-ly. I’m waiting.”

  Charlotte never had been one who could give in graciously, and she most certainly didn’t like to be bullied, not even by her niece whom she knew loved her and meant well. “Okay, okay, I promise,” she muttered irritably.

  While Judith questioned Charlotte and each of her crew, Charlotte rested on the chaise longue. Cheré had wiped most of the dust off of the plastic cover, and she, along with Judith and the others, had insisted that Charlotte sit there until they were allowed to leave.

  Though Charlotte was extremely uncomfortable with all the fuss everyone was making over her, she still felt a bit weak in the knees and was glad to have somewhere to sit.

  When Louis and Will returned from upstairs, Judith broke away to confer with her new partner.

  From where Charlotte sat, she had a perfect view of all the goings-on. Cheré, Emily, and Janet huddled around the marble-top table across from where she sat, Will and Judith were talking near the entrance door, and over by the foot of the staircase, Louis was grilling Billy Wilson and his partner, Hal.

  Watching Louis cross-examine the patrolmen, Charlotte thanked her lucky stars that Judith, and not Louis, had been the one who had interrogated her crew.

  Louis could be intimidating when he chose to, and though they had called a truce of sorts since he’d begun renting her double, the gruff detective seemed to have a gift for getting on her last nerve. Part of her bias toward him, she knew, had a lot to do with his outdated macho, chauvinistic attitude, but she also still felt the sting of humiliation every time she remembered his harsh accusations and the shabby way he’d treated her during the Dubuisson investigation.

  As if he could feel her watching him, he glanced her way. For a long moment, he stared at her, and the searching look of concern he gave her did funny things to her insides. After what seemed like forever, as if satisfied that she was okay, he turned back to the patrolmen.

  Such an enigma, she thought. The man was a puzzle she’d yet to figure out. In his own way, he truly cared about people, and he was completely trustworthy and honest to a fault, albeit sometimes brutally so. And if she were equally honest, she’d have to admit that, all in all, despite his many shortcomings, he’d be one of the first people she’d call if she were ever in a real bind.

  Louis pointed up the stairs; then, with a nod to the two patrolmen, he walked over to where Judith and Will were standing.

  At that moment, more police arrived. From the looks of the equipment they were carrying, Charlotte figured they were from the crime scene division. With all of the commotion, she couldn’t quite hear what Louis said to Judith, but she had no trouble whatsoever hearing Judith’s response.

  “No way!” she argued.

  “I swear it,” he retorted.

  “This I’ve got to see.” Judith did an about-face, and with Louis and Will trailing after her, she threaded her way through the crowd of policemen who had gathered
near the foot of the stairs.

  “Ah, Charlotte?”

  Charlotte turned her head to where Cheré was standing.

  “How are you feeling now?”

  Charlotte made a face. “Contrary to everyone’s opinion, I’m doing just fine. My goodness, such a fuss over nothing.”

  “It wasn’t just nothing and you know it. Judith’s right. You need to get a checkup.” Then she waved a dismissing hand. “But meantime, about right now I think we could all use some of that iced tea you brought. No—no, don’t get up. Just tell me where it is and I’ll get it.”

  Charlotte sighed. “Oh, for pity’s sake. Look behind the driver’s seat in my van. It’s in the blue ice chest. Cups are in the plastic grocery sack beside the ice chest. And while you’re at it, you might as well bring me some too, since it looks like we’re going to be here a while.”

  Cheré only got as far as the door, where a policeman stopped her. “Sorry, ma’am, I can’t let you leave until the detectives say so.”

  “I’m not leaving,” Cheré told him. I’m just going to the van to get something to drink for Ms. LaRue—Detective Monroe’s aunt.”

  He shook his head. “No can do, but if you’ll tell me where it’s at, I’ll send someone after it for you.”

  “Oh, good grief,” Cheré retorted. “In the ice chest in the back of that white van—a jug of tea. And tell whoever you send to bring those plastic cups in that grocery sack too.”

  A few minutes later, Cheré returned with the tea. She had just poured Charlotte a cup when Judith came down the stairs.

  “Gather around, ladies,” she told the crew. “I’ve got some more questions to ask—and if there’s any to spare, I’d love to have some of that tea.”

  She waited until Cheré poured her a cup of the tea, took several swallows, then set the cup on the marble-topped table. After a searching look at each of the women, she motioned toward the stairs. “I know I asked this before, but I have to ask it again. Did any of you recognize the man in the closet?”

  “I didn’t go up there,” Emily said.

  “Yes—yes, I know,” Judith replied. “You said you stayed downstairs. Right?”

  Emily nodded.

  “How about you, Cheré? Janet?”

  Both women shook their heads.

  “Aunt Charley?”

  Charlotte hesitated a moment before she answered. “Not right off the bat,” she finally said. “I kinda thought he looked familiar, but I really couldn’t see him that well, what with that mask he has on.”

  Judith nodded. “He looked familiar for a good reason, Auntie. Lou—Detective Thibodeaux—says the man is Drew Bergeron, and I believe I remember that you once worked for him and his wife.”

  Drew Bergeron. Charlotte’s insides quivered with disbelief. “That’s impossible,” she blurted out. “Mr. Bergeron died over two years ago. Why, I went to his funeral.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Surely Louis is mistaken,” Charlotte insisted. But even as she denied the possibility, she knew that the half-naked dead man in the closet upstairs was truly Drew Bergeron. That was why he had seemed familiar, why she’d thought she had seen him before. She had seen him before.

  Because he was supposed to have already been dead, her conscious mind had rejected recognition, but her subconscious had identified him as someone she knew.

  “The victim still has to be officially I.D.’d,” Judith told her, “but since Lou once had some dealings with Bergeron, unless the body upstairs is a twin, he’s almost one hundred percent certain the I.D. will check out. No trace of Bergeron’s body was ever found in the wreckage after his so-called accident, so it’s very likely that he bailed out before his plane exploded.”

  “But why—How is that possible?” Charlotte asked.

  “Easy,” Judith said. “His plane exploded twenty miles out into the Gulf of Mexico. Since there were a lot of sharks around, everyone just assumed…” She shrugged.

  “No.” Charlotte shook her head and waved a dismissive hand. “That’s not what I meant. If the man is Drew Bergeron, then, like you said, he probably bailed out. Either he was rescued and had amnesia—which isn’t very likely—or he had to have staged his first death. What I meant was, why would he have done such a thing?”

  “That’s what we’re going to have to find out,” Judith replied. “Once we know why, then we might have a better idea as to who killed him.”

  Judith turned to Janet and Cheré. “I know we’ve already been over everything, but this time I need you to tell me exactly what happened again, starting from the time you entered the house. We need to know just how much of the evidence has been disturbed. Let’s start with you, Mrs. Davis.”

  As Charlotte watched Janet and Judith walk off toward the end of the hallway, memories of the first time she’d met Drew Bergeron and his wife, Katherine, swirled through her mind…

  Katherine. “Oh no,” she groaned.

  Abruptly, Judith and Janet glanced her way, and Cheré turned toward her. As if by design, almost in unison they asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “I just thought about Katherine—Drew’s wife,” Charlotte explained. She shook her head slowly. “That poor, poor woman.”

  Judith and Janet walked back to join Charlotte and Cheré. “What about Katherine?” Judith asked her.

  “Can you imagine? For the past two years she’s thought that her husband was dead. And now this.” She shuddered. “Horrible—it’s just horrible. She’s already been through one funeral for him, and now—” She shook her head again. “Now she’ll have to go through it all again.”

  “I wouldn’t feel too sorry for her yet,” Judith cautioned in a stern tone. “She might have been in on it.”

  Charlotte frowned. “In on it?” she repeated. “But why would she—”

  “All kinds of reasons, Auntie. All kinds,” she emphasized. “And money’s at the top of the list. Now—” She motioned at Cheré. “Your turn, Ms. Warner.”

  In spite of what Judith had implied about Katherine Bergeron, Charlotte couldn’t seem to stop thinking about her as she watched Judith question Cheré at the end of the hallway.

  When Cheré and Judith joined Charlotte and Janet again, Judith addressed them all. “I’m going to need written statements from each of you. I’ll get one of the patrolmen to take you to the precinct, and once you’ve given your statements there, you’re free to go home.” She reached out and took Charlotte’s hand. “How about it, Auntie? Are you up to giving a statement?”

  Charlotte rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “I’m fine,” she snapped. “Please stop being such a worrywart.”

  Judith squeezed her hand before releasing it. “You just remember what I said about calling Hank.”

  “I’ll make sure she calls him,” Cheré offered.

  “Gee, thanks, Cheré,” Charlotte drawled sarcastically. “Just what I need. Two conspirators.”

  Cheré flashed her a sassy smile. “You’re welcome,” she quipped. “And it’s only because we love you.”

  Judith cleared her throat to get their attention. “One last thing. I’m going to need the shoes you’re wearing, fingerprints, and a DNA sample—head hair will do—everyone but you, Ms. Coleman, since you didn’t go upstairs at all.”

  Judith ignored their protests. “And Aunt Charley—” Her lips thinned with disapproval. “I understand why you did it, but if you ever run across a dead body again—God forbid—do not go near it.”

  “But I didn’t know if—”

  Judith held up a hand. “I realize that, Auntie, but you can get into big trouble. You might even be taken into custody as a suspect, and I might not be around to smooth things over.”

  It was midafternoon before Charlotte was finally able to go home. Despite her vigorous protest, none of her crew would hear of her driving herself home. Instead, Cheré drove Charlotte’s van. Since Janet had caught a ride with Emily that morning, she followed in Cheré’s car. Emily brought up the rear of their little caravan
in her vehicle, so she could pick up Janet.

  True to her word, Cheré refused to leave until Charlotte phoned Hank. While Charlotte dialed the number, Cheré entertained herself by playing with Sweety Boy. From the moment they had entered the room, the little parakeet had begun his normal routine of squawking and pacing back and forth on his perch, all designed to get attention.

  As it turned out, Hank had to be paged.

  “Are you as hungry as I am?” Charlotte asked Cheré as she hung up the phone.

  Cheré had her finger in the birdcage, rubbing the back of the little bird’s head. “Starving,” she quipped, pulling her finger from the cage. “Hey, we could order a pizza?”

  “Sounds good to me. Why don’t you order while I see about a salad? I think I have some of that prepackaged stuff in the refrig. I usually add a few carrots and tomatoes to it, if that’s okay with you?”

  “Sounds great. Pepperoni, mushrooms, and onions on the pizza okay with you?”

  Charlotte nodded. “And order extra sauce too,” she suggested. “They never put enough sauce on it,” she muttered.

  While Cheré ordered the pizza, Charlotte headed for the kitchen. Within minutes, Cheré joined her. “The pizza should be here in about twenty minutes,” she told Charlotte. “Now, what can I do to help?”

  Charlotte held out a tomato and a bag of raw baby carrots. “You can wash these.”

  Within minutes, the salads were ready. Cheré suggested that they should go ahead and eat while waiting for the delivery of the pizza, and Charlotte agreed. They had just sat down at the table when the phone rang.

  “That’s probably Hank,” Charlotte murmured as she stood. Motioning toward Cheré’s plate, she added, “Don’t wait on me. Go ahead and eat.”

  Charlotte hurried into the living room and snatched up the phone receiver. “Maid-for-a-Day. Charlotte speaking.”

  “Momma, what’s wrong?” Hank asked with an edge of worry in his voice.