Chapter Twenty-five
“No!” Marian moaned. “Not my boys! He—he couldn’t. He really cares about B.J. and Aaron.” She shuddered. “He wouldn’t do that.”
“Are you sure?” Charlotte grabbed Marian by both shoulders and shook her once, hard. “Are you willing to bet your sons’ lives on it?”
For long seconds Marian stared at her, her eyes wide and uncomprehending.
“Don’t be naive, Marian. We’re talking about a man who lost everything because of what the three of you did to him—his family, his job, his reputation—everything! I was there when they found Drew Bergeron. I saw his body. Sam shot him at close range in the head, execution style. This is a man who has already systematically killed off two of the three people he blames for ruining his life. And if you don’t stop him, he’ll kill you too. Even worse, what better way to get his revenge on you than to first take away everything that means anything to you? And even if he doesn’t kill your sons, what will happen to them if he kills you?”
Once again, Marian’s eyes filled with tears that spilled over onto her cheeks, and finally she nodded. “Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll do it.”
Relief flooded through Charlotte. “Good!” She released her hold on Marian. “The first thing we need is a sympathetic ally. I’m going to call my niece, Judith. If you remember, she’s one of the detectives that questioned you after Drew’s body was found.”
“That’s why she looked so familiar that day.”
Charlotte nodded. “After I phone Judith, you need to call your attorney. For now, though, just let me do all the talking out there until Judith gets here. Okay?”
“Okay,” Marian whispered.
“Now—” Charlotte pushed herself up off the floor and stood. “Let’s get out of here. No—wait! On second thought, maybe we should just stay in here as long as we can. That way, we won’t have to answer so many questions until Judith comes.”
“Sounds good to me,” Marian agreed. “Believe me, I’m not in any hurry.”
Charlotte nodded, then pulled her cell phone out of her apron pocket. She’d just dialed Judith’s number when Marian suddenly lurched to her feet. “The boys!” she sputtered. “What time is it?”
The number was ringing, but Charlotte quickly glanced at her watch. “It’s a little past three, but I thought I—”
Marian closed her eyes and sighed. “Oh, good.” She closed the lid of the toilet and sat down. “It’s still a while before they get home from school.”
Then who was on the porch? Charlotte didn’t have time to think about it. At that moment, Judith answered her call.
“Judith, hon, it’s me. I’m at Marian Hebert’s house, and I need you to get over here as soon as possible.”
“What’s wrong, Aunt Charley?”
“I’ll explain when you get here—and Judith, it’s urgent, so please hurry.” Charlotte ended the call, then handed the phone to Marian. “Call your attorney.”
While Marian was on the phone, Charlotte put her ear to the bathroom door and listened. Was Billy still out there, waiting for them to come out, or had he posted another officer at the door to wait for them?
She didn’t hear any movement or voices, but there was only one way to find out for sure, she decided. Easing the door open, she peeked out into the hallway. So far, so good. No one was standing guard at the door, and from the sounds she was hearing, no one was even in the house. They were all out front or on the porch.
Now if they could only keep stalling until Judith got there. She eased the door shut again. Marian was still talking on the phone, and though the bathroom was adequate, it was small.
Charlotte had never been claustrophobic before, but the small confines of the bathroom, along with the lingering smell from Marian being sick, was starting to get to her.
Delayed shock, she decided as she gripped the edge of the countertop. But who wouldn’t feel weak and queasy after what she’d just been through? Or at least that’s what she kept telling herself.
Suddenly, there was a sharp rap on the bathroom door. The noise reverberated and echoed in the small tiled room, and Charlotte almost jumped out of her skin.
“Ms. LaRue! Everything all right in there?”
“Ah—yes, Billy,” Charlotte answered. “Everything’s fine.”
“Ma’am, we need to ask a few more questions.”
“Okay,” she told him. “Just give us a couple more minutes.” To Marian she whispered, “Is your attorney coming?”
Marian nodded and handed Charlotte the phone. “He’s on his way.”
“Good. Now remember—let me do all the talking.” She helped Marian to her feet. “Ready?”
Marian shrugged. “Not really, but I guess I don’t have any choice.” She glanced in the mirror, then made a face. “At least I won’t have to lie about not feeling well. All they have to do is look at me.”
Charlotte gave her a quick smile for courage. Then, ever conscious that she needed to buy time until Judith got there, she took a deep breath and opened the door.
“Billy, why don’t we all go into the family room? I’m sure Ms. Hebert would be much more comfortable in there than standing around on the porch. She’s still feeling a bit weak,” she added for good measure.
Billy took one look at Marian and nodded his agreement. A few minutes later, he and another officer joined Charlotte and Marian in the family room. Marian was sitting in one of the two chairs that faced the sofa, and Charlotte chose to remain standing nearby, in hopes that the attention would be on her instead of Marian.
“This is Officer Hardy,” Billy told Charlotte.
Charlotte nodded, recognizing the policeman as one of the officers who had held a gun on her earlier on the porch.
“We’ve talked briefly to Ms. Shaw, ma’am, but we’d like to hear your version of what happened.”
Carefully choosing her words to avoid any references to Darla’s real motivation for showing up on Marian’s doorstep, Charlotte kept her explanation as simple as possible, starting with Darla mistaking her for Marian.
“That poor woman,” she said when she’d finished. “Evidently she was just crazy with grief over the death of Mr. Bergeron and, for whatever reason, she got it in her head that Marian had killed him. Of course, that’s ridiculous. Marian wasn’t anywhere near the Devilier house on the night that he was murdered.” She shrugged. “Like I said, I figure she was just crazy with grief, and because Mr. Bergeron and Marian had once been friends, she got confused. I’m just grateful that Marian had the good sense to phone you guys and that you showed up so quickly.”
The explanation she’d given had holes in it big enough to drive an eighteen-wheeler through, and she prepared herself, fully expecting to be interrogated further.
Footsteps coming down the hallway momentarily distracted the officers, and when Judith marched into the room, Charlotte sagged from relief.
After giving a nod of greeting to the two officers and to Marian, Judith directed her attention to Charlotte. “You okay, Aunt Charley?” When Charlotte nodded, Judith turned to the two officers. “Could you guys give me a few minutes alone with my aunt?”
Once the two officers had left the room, Judith approached Charlotte. “Are you sure you’re okay, Auntie? You look a little pale to me.” She motioned toward the sofa. “Why don’t you sit down over here?”
Charlotte nodded. “I’ll sit down, but I’m okay, hon. Just still a bit shaky. It’s not every day I get guns pointed at me,” she added.
Judith seated herself beside Charlotte. “Now, what’s this all about, Auntie?”
Charlotte took a deep breath. “I know who killed Drew Bergeron.”
Judith threw a suspicious look at Marian, then turned her attention back to her aunt. “I’m listening.”
“Before you jump to any conclusions—” Charlotte tilted her head toward Marian. “Let me explain. There are still some missing pieces to the puzzle, but it all started over twenty years ago. Marian, her husband, a
nd Drew Bergeron were all friends at Tulane. As college kids do sometimes, they all got drunk one night.”
As quickly as she could, Charlotte recounted the story about the three stealing the professor’s car for a joyride and about Drew and Bill letting Marian believe that she had been responsible for the death of the man that Drew had run over during their escapade.
“According to the news articles I read,” Charlotte continued, “the man who was run over gave a description and part of the license number of the car that hit him before he died. The professor—Professor Arthur Samuel—had already been given several tickets for drunk driving, and of course the police arrested him. The professor was tried and convicted, and served a ten-year sentence for a crime he didn’t commit. I don’t know how he did it, but I believe that the professor somehow found out the truth and is now getting his revenge.”
Judith held up a hand. “That’s a pretty tall tale, Aunt Charley. In the first place, it’s kind of hard to buy that they were able to convince Mrs. Hebert that she was driving.”
“Ah, excuse me,” Marian interrupted. “As embarrassed as I am to admit it, it wasn’t hard at all. You see, I was so out of it that I really didn’t remember any of what happened that night after a certain point. As they say, drugs and alcohol don’t mix.”
Judith nodded slowly. “Hmm, yes—well, I guess it’s possible, but—” She turned back to Charlotte. “How do you know so much about this professor, Auntie, and what does this have to do with Drew Bergeron’s murder or Darla Shaw, for that matter? And where is this professor now?”
Charlotte sighed. “It’s a bit complicated,” she finally answered. “Just bear with me while I try to explain.”
Beginning with the day Bitsy had showed her the Tulane yearbook, Charlotte told her niece about the events that had transpired. Since she was now sure that Sam Roberts had murdered Drew Bergeron and possibly Bill Hebert too, she saw no reason to reveal B.J.’s presence in the Devilier house when Drew Bergeron was murdered. At least not yet.
“You see,” she continued, “Marian employs a handyman named Sam Roberts. Since I had seen Sam around here quite a bit, it struck me that there was a marked resemblance between Sam and the professor.” Then she explained about the cigars beneath B.J.’s bed, and leaving out the reason she’d been at Sam’s house, she told Judith about seeing similar ones there as well as at the Devilier house. “B.J. had kept some of his dad’s things, and that included the cigars. I guess since he and Sam had struck up a friendship of sorts, B.J. had given him some of the cigars. Of course there’s also the purple Mardi Gras mask thing. I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and the only thing I can come up with is that the color purple stands for justice. The professor is finally getting justice for what was done to him.
“When Darla Shaw showed up at the door today and began ranting and raving, it all began to make a weird sort of sense.” Charlotte’s gaze slid to Marian, and Marian, understanding that it was her turn to talk, nodded.
“You see,” Marian began, “for the past two years Drew Bergeron has been blackmailing me. I guess Darla Shaw knew about it and when Drew was murdered, she went a little crazy and got it in her head that I had killed Drew. Lord knows, I had enough reason to, but I didn’t,” she quickly added. “Anyway—this Darla Shaw woman decided to take up where Drew left off with the blackmailing thing.”
“But there’s more, Judith,” Charlotte added. “I also believe that Sam Roberts killed Marian’s husband as well. If you check into it, I think you’ll find that Bill Hebert’s death was under suspicious circumstances—and did I mention that Sam Roberts worked for Marian’s husband first, before he worked for Marian?”
For long moments Judith simply sat there, silently staring first at Charlotte, then at Marian, and Charlotte held her breath.
Judith abruptly stood. “You know what, ladies?” She gave each of them a pointed look. “I think I believe you—at least enough to bring Sam Roberts in for questioning.”
Charlotte released her breath in a huge sigh, and Marian dropped her head as if offering up a silent prayer of thanksgiving.
Judith cleared her throat. “But Mrs. Hebert—”
Marian raised her head and looked at Judith.
“Don’t plan on leaving town any time soon.”
Charlotte stayed with Marian until the police had cleared out. “Why don’t I fix you a fresh cup of coffee?” she offered, when the last police car drove away.
“Oh, Charlotte, I’m sure you have other things to do besides wait on me.”
What Charlotte really wanted was to stay a bit longer, mostly to satisfy herself that Marian was going to be okay. “Well, I was hoping to wait around for the boys to get home anyway. I’ve been meaning to thank them for that lovely music box they gave me.”
“Thanks, Charlotte. Thanks for everything.” Marian closed the front door. “The boys should be home any minute now, and I could sure use a cup of something.” Then she gave a nervous laugh. “I’d say I could use a drink, but that’s what got me into this whole mess to begin with.”
Charlotte nodded, and knowing she could be jeopardizing her job to even suggest what was on her mind, she decided that she had to try, job or no job, for Marian’s sake as well as the welfare of Marian’s sons. “Marian, I know it’s none of my business, but have you ever considered AA?”
Marian shrugged and began walking slowly toward the kitchen. “I used to go, but I quit. Now, though—after all that’s happened—who knows, maybe now would be a good time to start up again.”
In the kitchen, while Charlotte prepared the coffeemaker, she decided she might as well broach another touchy subject while she was at it.
Marian had seated herself at the kitchen table, and Charlotte turned to face her. “Ah—Marian, I was just wondering about something. I was just wondering if there’s some way we can get around B.J. knowing that I blew the whistle on Sam. I don’t want B.J. to think that I betrayed him—you know, about the cigars,” she added, still uncomfortable about the secret she was keeping about B.J. being present on the night that Drew Bergeron was murdered.
Marian smiled. “Well, he won’t hear it from me.” She shook her head. “Poor B.J. No wonder he’s been so moody lately. I had no idea that he’d kept some of Bill’s things. That’s how out of it I’ve been since Bill died.”
Charlotte had to bite her tongue to keep from telling Marian that she’d been more out of it than she could dream when it came to B.J.
“But not anymore,” Marian added firmly. “Life’s too uncertain and too short. Bill loved our sons with all of his heart, but Bill’s gone. And I owe it to him and the boys—and myself—to get on with my life and to take care of our boys.”
“Yes,” Charlotte murmured. “Yes, you do.”
Charlotte and Marian had just taken their first sips of coffee when they heard the clatter of the boys on the back porch. Within seconds, like a whirlwind, Aaron and B.J. burst through the kitchen door.
“Did not!” Aaron yelled at his brother.
“You little brat!” B.J. yelled back. “You did too.”
“Mom! B.J. said I—”
“Zip it!” Marian ordered.
“But Mom,” Aaron whined.
Marian shook her finger at him. “I said zip it. Right now! I’m tired of this bickering and it’s going to stop.”
The astounded look on both boys’ faces was priceless, and Charlotte had to bite her lower lip to keep from grinning.
“There’s going to be some changes around here,” Marian told them in a stern, no-nonsense voice. “Some new rules, starting today, and the first rule is no more fighting. Now, both of you, show some manners and say hello to Ms. LaRue.”
When Charlotte finally decided it was time to go home a few minutes later, Marian walked her to the van. “I just wanted to thank you again for all you’ve done today,” she told Charlotte. “I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t been here.”
Charlotte smiled. “No thanks needed.
Besides, you’re the one who called the police.”
A puzzled frown shadowed Marian’s face. “That’s just it. I didn’t—didn’t call the police, that is.”
Charlotte went stone still. “You didn’t?”
Marian shook her head. “No.”
It was Charlotte’s turn to frown. “Then how—who—”
After a moment, Marian gestured toward the house next door. “Maybe one of the neighbors?” she suggested.
Charlotte sighed, still a bit confused. “Maybe.” She paused, then finally shrugged. “Oh, well, guess it doesn’t really matter who called in the long run. The point is that someone called them and they came.”
Later that evening, Charlotte had just loaded the dirty dishes from her supper into the dishwasher when she heard a car door slam out front. Within minutes, there was a knock at the door.
“I was just thinking about calling you,” Charlotte told Judith when she opened the door. Judith came inside, and Charlotte closed the door. “Have you eaten supper yet, hon?”
Judith shook her head. “Not yet, Auntie. I just stopped by for a moment, though. I have a dinner date at seven.”
Charlotte narrowed her eyes. “With Will?”
“No, Auntie, not with Will. That’s over.”
“Over as in you’re not partners anymore?”
Judith rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “Over as in we’re not lovers anymore,” she said bluntly. “And I’ve put in a request for a new partner.”
Though it was difficult, Charlotte was able to maintain a neutral expression instead of grinning from ear to ear with relief.
“Actually, I’m meeting Billy Wilson,” Judith told her.
This time Charlotte did grin. “I think that’s just wonderful. He seems like such a nice young man.”
“Yeah, right! That’s not what you said a few months ago. As I recall, I think what you said was something like, ‘Someone needs to teach him some manners.’”
“Humph, that was different,” Charlotte retorted. “That was before I got to know him a little better.” She paused. “You know, it just now occurred to me that Billy and one of my employees have the same last name. Wonder if they’re related?”
Death Tidies Up Page 24