The Cakes of Monte Cristo

by Jacklyn Brady

  JD was fussing a bit, so I gave Edie a quick hug and took the baby carrier from her to give her a break. While we waited to be seated, I cooed and gurgled and made all the appropriate noises, which got JD’s attention and, I swear, even earned a smile from the baby.

  Unfortunately, her son’s good humor put a scowl on Edie’s face. “Why does he like you better than me?”

  I managed to suppress the grin I’d been giving JD as I looked up at her. I didn’t want to make her feel worse. “He doesn’t like me better than you,” I assured her. “I think he feels your stress and reacts to that. I’m not as stressed as you are.” Which might not have been entirely true. Edie had motherhood to deal with, but I was plenty stressed at work, and now I was also carrying around guilt over Orra Trussell’s untimely death. My stress didn’t have anything to do with John David, though, which probably made the difference.

  “I don’t resent you for being able to handle him, Rita. Really I don’t. I just wish he’d calm down for me like he does for you.”

  I didn’t know what to say to her, so I went with an optimistic prediction. “He will in time. Has he been sleeping any better?”

  She gave her hand a so-so waggle. “A bit, I guess. He actually took a nap yesterday and he slept for four solid hours last night. I think that’s a personal best for him.”

  “That’s progress! Everyone says it gets easier as they get older.”

  Edie’s expression turned pensive. “It had better be true,” she said. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

  Luckily, just then the restaurant’s hostess appeared, and I hoisted the baby carrier to trail her and Edie to a table near the window. We spent a few minutes settling the baby and the diaper bag around us, and eventually got ourselves seated as well.

  “Thanks for suggesting this,” Edie said as she plucked her napkin from the table. “I feel almost like a real live girl.”

  “Good,” I said with a smile. “That was my intention.”

  Edie’s lips curved slightly in response. She reached for her menu and gave it a cursory glance. “How are things at work?”

  I wasn’t sure how much to say, so I went with a generic, “Fine.”

  Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. We’re busy, of course. And Zoey is just settling in, so that’s a bit of an adjustment, but really, we’re all fine.”

  “Oh?” She looked back at her menu, but her expression was far too innocent. “Sparkle said there’d been some trouble. Something about damage to one of the walls?”

  I gave myself a mental kick for trying to be coy. I should have known that someone would fill her in on the gossip, but I hadn’t expected Sparkle to gab. She and Edie had had a few issues in the past, but I kept forgetting that since JD’s birth, they’d been thick as thieves. I still hadn’t adjusted to the new dynamic.

  “It’s nothing major,” I said. “I just haven’t started repairs yet because we have so much work to do in the next couple of months. We can’t have workmen underfoot while we’re trying to get everything done.”

  “That’s all?”

  “Well, mostly,” I admitted just as a bubbly young waitress bounced over to our table. “Let’s order before JD gets fussy again. We can talk while we eat.”

  We spent the next few minutes listening to Bubbles enthuse about the daily specials. JD stirred fitfully a couple of times, but we managed to place our orders and send our server away without disturbing him too much.

  I thought the interruption might have distracted Edie, but she’d caught the scent of a story, and she wasn’t letting go. “Sparkle also said that you’d found something interesting. A necklace, I think she said?”

  I laughed and gave up trying to shield Edie from the trouble at work. “Obviously you know the story already, so why don’t you just tell me what else you want to know.”

  “Anything there is to tell. Sparkle only knows that you and Zoey found a necklace, but she doesn’t know anything else.” She paused while Bubbles put our drink choices on the table. “Apparently, Estelle is being very tight-lipped about the whole thing,” she said when we were alone again.

  That didn’t sound like Estelle at all. Again I wondered if Zoey might assert a claim to the necklace. “I don’t think Sparkle knows much,” I said. “We only talked about it for a few minutes this morning. So here’s the story in a nutshell: Zoey—you know, Estelle’s niece—dropped a few boxes, and they damaged the stairs. Inside one of the loose steps, she spotted a bundle, which turned out to be a box, and inside the box was a ruby necklace. Which is gorgeous, by the way. I’m still trying to figure out whether it’s genuine or costume, and that’s really all there is to know.”

  Edie regarded me critically over the rim of her sweet tea glass. “Are you sure? Sparkle made it sound like there was something mysterious about the necklace.”

  “There’s rumor and gossip, but nothing concrete. Why, what did she say?”

  “Just that there’s supposedly a curse on the necklace and that some lady died last night while she was holding it in her hand.” She put her glass down and scowled at me. “I thought we were friends, Rita. Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

  “I didn’t want to tell anybody about any of this,” I said with a guilty wince. “I feel horrible about Orra Trussell’s death and I was hoping to keep the connection between the Toussaint necklace and Orra’s heart attack—if there is a connection at all—under wraps.”

  Edie reached for her phone, did a bit of swiping and one-finger typing, and shoved the screen at me. “I think the cat is out of the bag.”

  I glanced at the screen and groaned. CURSED NECKLACE REAPPEARS AFTER 100 YEARS, the screen shouted. It followed with a story by a local journalist all about Beatriz and Armand Toussaint, and Armand’s ill-fated relationship with Delphine Mercier. It wasn’t posted on a major news outlet, but Edie had seen it, which made me wonder just how far and fast the story would spread.

  With a sigh, I gave Edie’s phone back to her. “How did they find out about it so fast?”

  Edie shrugged. “Who knows? Nothing stays private these days. You know that.”

  “Yeah. I guess.” I can’t say that I’d embraced social media, but we did have a nodding acquaintance. I maintained a business blog, a company Facebook account, and I kept up with old friends and my New Mexico family on a personal account, but I didn’t spend as much time online as most people.

  “So? Tell me,” Edie said. “What’s going on? And this time don’t leave anything out.”

  “There really isn’t a lot to tell. Sullivan came over last night and told me about Orra Trussell’s death—but it’s not as if she was murdered or anything. She died of a heart attack.”

  Edie looked almost disappointed. “Really? It wasn’t murder?”

  “No, and you might try to appear sorry. Dead is dead, no matter how it happens.”

  Edie assumed a solemn expression—or at least she tried. “What about the curse the article mentions?”

  A brittle laugh escaped my lips. “Don’t tell me you believe that rumor?” Edie shrugged but didn’t say anything, which caused me to laugh again. “Seriously? You really think there’s a curse?”

  “The lady died, didn’t she?”

  “Yes, but only because she was frightened by a burglar. It wasn’t because of the necklace.”

  “You don’t know the necklace had nothing to do with her heart attack,” Edie said. “You said yourself there might be a connection.”

  “Not the kind of connection you’re suggesting.” We were interrupted by the arrival of our orders—two trays filled with Rubio’s famous ribs and coleslaw. We shifted things around to make room for everything. JD stirred again but didn’t wake up, and the two of us dug in like we’d both been starving for days.

  “Look, Edie, I need you to keep quiet a
bout this,” I said after we’d munched in silence for a few minutes. “The very last thing we need is for word of a supposed curse to get out and have it associated in any way with Zydeco. It could be the ruin of the business.”

  “Or the making of it,” Edie suggested. “This is New Orleans, Rita. Around here, something like that might get the bakery a lot of attention.”

  “Attention, we need,” I agreed, “but that’s hardly the right kind. The kind of people who can afford our cakes aren’t going to be impressed by some hundred-year-old voodoo curse.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “You think they will be?” I tried to imagine someone like Evangeline Delahunt getting excited about a cursed necklace, but the image wouldn’t form. I kept seeing the look on Miss Frankie’s face instead.

  “I think it’s the kind of thing that stirs up interest,” Edie said. “And I don’t think it matters much who you are or how much money you have. It’s the kind of story that will grab anyone’s attention. I’m not saying we should play it up or anything. I just don’t think you should worry about word getting out. I don’t think it would hurt business.”

  “Maybe.” I turned Edie’s argument over in my mind, but I still had a bad feeling about the whole thing. “The point is, a woman died last night. I don’t want to do anything that would make it seem as if we’re trying to capitalize on her death, especially since we’ll be hanging out with her associates at the Belle Lune Ball.”

  “I’m not suggesting that we should,” Edie insisted. She might have said more, but John David began to stir again and this time he was fussy enough to distract his mother. Maybe she was right, but the whole subject made me increasingly uneasy. The journalist might have picked up the story of the burglary from the police, but since they hadn’t seemed overly interested in the Toussaint rubies, I doubted very much they’d mentioned the curse.

  But someone clearly had, and I couldn’t help wondering who.

  Eleven

  After trying unsuccessfully to calm JD, Edie hurried away with her squalling infant and the diaper bag. I signaled our server for a refill of Edie’s sweet tea so it would be waiting for her when she got back to the table, and I gave myself a pat on the back for being thoughtful.

  I still wasn’t used to seeing Edie in full motherhood mode and I wondered whether having JD waiting for her at home would change her when she came back to work. JD’s birth had reignited my own old longing for children, but he had also raised questions about my ability to juggle motherhood and a career. I wondered how easy it would be for Edie to handle the challenge.

  “Ms. Lucero?”

  I’d been so lost in thought, I hadn’t heard anyone approach the table, and the deep voice so close to my ear startled me. I shifted in my seat and found a furry face just a few inches behind my shoulder.

  It took a moment for me to recognize Sol Lehmann after my brief encounter with him at the Vintage Vault.

  “It is Ms. Lucero, isn’t it?” he asked. “Or have I mistaken you for someone else?”

  “No. Yes.” I laughed and pulled myself together. “Yes, I’m Rita Lucero. And you’re—?” Since we hadn’t actually been introduced, I thought I should play it safe.

  “Sol Lehmann.” He waved a beefy hand toward one of the free chairs at my table. “Would you mind if I join you for a moment?”

  Well, yes and no. It seemed like an audacious request since we didn’t know each other, but I couldn’t think of any reason besides the necklace that he might want to talk to me and I really wanted to hear what he had to say. “I can give you a minute,” I said. “I’m having lunch with someone.”

  “I know. I saw her leave with her baby a moment ago. It will only take a few minutes . . . if you don’t mind.”

  I nodded toward the chair. “What can I do for you?”

  He sat and tugged his vest down over his substantial belly. “I don’t know if you remember me. We didn’t actually meet, but I was at Orra’s shop yesterday at the same time you were.”

  “I remember.” A dozen questions formed on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed them all.

  “I suppose you’ve heard about Orra’s heart attack?”

  I nodded. “Yes. It’s awful, isn’t it? How did you find out?”

  Sol folded his hands together on the table. “Dominique called me this morning. She called several of us who are—were—Orra’s colleagues, to let us know. She was a good lady and she really knew the business. She’ll be missed.”

  I liked thinking that someone would miss her, but if Sol was feeling real grief, I wasn’t picking up on it. “She wasn’t very old, was she?”

  “Sixty, sixty-five. I’m not sure.” He gave me a sad smile. “I knew her for years, but I know better than to ask a lady her age. Even if I’d asked, Orra wouldn’t have told me.”

  His smile faded slowly. An expression I couldn’t read darted across his bearded face, but I didn’t miss the cool glint in his eyes. “Dominique told me that you left a necklace with Orra to be appraised. She was under the impression that it might have been the famous Toussaint necklace.”

  Well, that didn’t take long. “That possibility has been suggested,” I admitted, “but if you’re asking me to confirm or deny, I’m afraid I can’t do that. I have no idea if the necklace is genuine.”

  “I know this is a bad time to bring it up, but when I saw you sitting here, I decided to take a chance. Now that Orra’s gone . . .” He broke off, wiped his face with one hand, and tried again. “If you still need that appraisal, I’d be happy to look at the piece for you.” He reached into a pocket and produced a business card.

  I slipped the card into my back pocket. “Thank you, Mr. Lehmann, but I don’t have the necklace at the moment.”

  “Oh? Is it . . . What I mean is, is the piece at the Vintage Vault? I could pick it up if you’d like. Save time. I’m sure you’re busy.”

  He certainly was eager. Which made me cautious. “That’s generous of you, but it’s actually in police custody. I don’t know when—or even if—I’ll get it back.”

  Disappointment clouded his eyes. “The police have it. I hadn’t even thought of that.”

  “Apparently it’s evidence in last night’s break-in. I’m sure I’ll get it back at some point, but I really don’t know when that will be.”

  “Oh. Yes. Of course. I hadn’t thought,” he said again. He cleared his throat. “Well, the offer stands. I’d be happy to appraise it for you when the time comes. It’s a shame, don’t you think? I was hoping I might persuade you to let me add it to my exhibit at the Belle Lune Ball.”

  I blinked a couple of times in surprise. “You want to exhibit the Toussaint necklace?”

  “Of course. Putting that piece on display would be a major coup for any vintage dealer. You should know that. I’m sure you’ll find lots of interest in the necklace now that it’s been found.” He glanced around furtively and lowered his voice. “Where did you find it, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  Lots of interest. Oh, goody. “I’m really not ready to talk about it,” I said. “I’m sure you understand.”

  “Of course. But I would be honored if you’d let me be the one to show it. When the time is right.”

  Of course. I could tell just how concerned he was about me. “Judging from your own interest, I have to assume you know the necklace’s purported history?”

  Sol nodded eagerly. “Certainly. It’s a colorful one, that’s for sure.”

  “So you know it’s rumored to be cursed.”

  A gravelly laugh emanated from his throat. “Absolutely. That’s the most interesting thing about it.” He sobered and put a beefy hand on my elbow. “But listen, if the curse frightens you, I’d be happy to take the necklace off your hands. I’d make you a generous offer—if it turns out to be the real thing, of course.”

  Just as Orra had predicted. I cou
ld almost feel the excitement vibrating off of his body.

  “I’ll keep that offer in mind, too,” I said, politely pulling my arm away from his hand. “But I wouldn’t get your hopes up about showing the necklace at the Belle Lune Ball. The ball is a little over a week away. It would take a minor miracle to get the wheels of bureaucracy turning that fast.”

  “One can always hope,” he said. “Just don’t forget about me. You have my number. Let me know if you need my services.”

  I said that I would and Sol lumbered away as Edie made her way back to our table.

  I held out my hands for JD and Edie put him in my arms. “Who was that?” she asked with a glance at Sol’s retreating figure.

  “A vintage dealer named Sol Lehmann. He was at the Vintage Vault yesterday when I dropped off the necklace.”

  Edie handed me a bottle for the baby. “Oh? What did he want with you today?”

  “He wants the Toussaint necklace,” I said after JD began to eat. “He offered to appraise it now that Orra’s gone, but he also admitted that he wants to show it at the Belle Lune Ball. And he mentioned that he’d be interested in buying it.”

  “Really?” Edie took another look at Sol and frowned thoughtfully. “He certainly is aggressive.”

  “That’s what I thought, too.” JD squirmed, so I readjusted my hold on him. “Doesn’t it seem odd that he’d bring it up today? I mean, Orra hasn’t even been dead for twenty-four hours and he’s already trying to get his hands on the necklace. You don’t suppose—”

  “That he tried to steal it last night?” Edie shook her head slowly. “Anything is possible, I guess. But if you’d just broken into someone’s store and she died right in front of you, wouldn’t you want to keep a low profile?”

  I shrugged. “Sure, but I wouldn’t break in to begin with, so we can’t rely on what I’d do.” I kissed JD’s forehead and watched his eyes close sleepily. “Mr. Lehmann said I’d probably hear from lots of people who are interested in the necklace. I hope he’s wrong.”