by Jana DeLeon
Alford shrugged. “I don’t think she was trying to cause trouble. Adelaide’s mind simply isn’t what it used to be. Dementia, Alzheimer’s, or maybe just old age. Either way, her reliability isn’t, well, reliable.”
Sabine glanced over at Beau, wondering where this was going, but he looked as confused as she felt. “What does all this have to do with me, Mr. Alford?”
“I need to ask you to have a DNA test. I’m sorry to move straight to the legal aspects of this so soon after your reunion, but I’m left with little choice now.”
Sabine suddenly understood. “The family wants to make sure I’m the real deal before Adelaide spreads any more tales.”
Alford jumped up from his chair, an agitated expression on his face. “No, I’m sorry, that’s not it at all. I don’t mean to imply that the family doesn’t trust you because nothing could be further from the truth. The family is certain you’re Adam’s daughter and so am I. You look exactly like him, and the dates and facts surrounding your birth coincide with the things we know from our end.”
Sabine stared at him. “Mr. Alford, I have no issue with providing a sample for a DNA test. In fact, I fully expected to be asked to. I guess what I’m not understanding is why the urgency now if not for the family’s protection?”
“It’s not for the family’s protection. It’s for your own.” The attorney sank back into his chair. “Over the years scam artists who found out about Adam showed up pretending to be a long-lost granddaughter or grandson. They’ve always proved to be frauds, but not before they’ve stolen from the house or managed to get money out of Frances—she’s very gullible.”
“The family is worried that everyone will think I’m another scam artist.”
“Yes. They don’t want this to cause any trouble for you, and the reality is, without medical proof of your claim, you will probably endure a certain level of animosity from the townsfolk.”
“I see,” Sabine said, although she didn’t really buy his explanation for a moment. More likely the Fortescues didn’t want to cause any more embarrassment for the family, but Sabine saw no benefit to pointing out the obvious to the one man who probably knew that to begin with.
He gave her an apologetic look. “I am so sorry about this, Ms. LeVeche. We were hoping to explain this situation and take care of these things over time. No one wanted to make you prove yourself as soon as you walked in the door. The Fortescues are a lot of things, but ill-mannered is certainly not one of them.”
Sabine held in a smile. Only the most proper—and mentally imbalanced—of people would consider a DNA test rude when there were millions at stake. “Is there a facility I need to go to?”
Alford shook his head and pulled a bag from his desk drawer. “All I need is a hair sample and I can send this off. Again, I apologize for this, Ms. LeVeche. I also lost both my parents when I was very young. I know how important family is. The Fortescues wanted to give both sides time to get to know each other before making it public. No one wanted things to get out this way.”
“There is no need to apologize, Mr. Alford. No harm has been done but a little tongue-wagging. I assure you, tongues have wagged about me a time or two in the past. I’m a psychic, remember?”
Alford looked relieved. “Yes, of course. I’m just so used to dealing with the family, and they’re so…I guess particular is the best word.” He gave Sabine a small smile. “I sometimes forget that the rest of society is not as stringent. The family has arranged for a rush on the tests. They should be notified with the results by tomorrow morning and will contact me immediately following. If you’ll give me a way to reach you, I’ll let you know as soon as I’ve spoken with the family.”
“No problem,” Sabine said and jotted her cell number down on the back of one of her business cards. “I also have a question for you, Mr. Alford. I wondered if I could get a copy of my father’s medical records, after the DNA results are back, of course. I’ve had a couple of minor medical issues come up in the past, and that information would be nice to have.”
“Certainly,” the attorney said, but Sabine could tell the question has flustered him. Was the attorney aware that her father’s records had been stolen, or was he just hesitant to agree to provide any personal information about the family?
When the DNA results were back, she had every intention of pressing him again.
Ruth Boudreaux’s home was a spacious Victorian, just a couple of blocks from Alford’s office. Sabine had called several times that afternoon but had been unable to get a hold of anyone. She asked Beau to stop by the house just in case Mrs. Boudreaux was home now and would agree to speak to her.
The woman who answered the door clearly wasn’t Ruth Boudreaux. For one thing, she was at least forty years younger, and her accent was northern. “May I help you?” she asked politely.
“I hope so,” Sabine said. “My name is Sabine LeVeche. I’ve been trying to get in touch with Mrs. Boudreaux. I’ve been doing some family research and I think she might know some of my relatives.”
“My name is Anna. I’m Mrs. Boudreaux’s nurse.” She motioned them inside to a formal living room. “If you tried to reach her today, we were probably at church at the time. Mrs. Boudreaux insists on praying daily and lighting a candle for two of her brothers. She lost them in Vietnam.”
“Do you think she will speak to me?”
“Oh, certainly. Mrs. Boudreaux enjoys having visitors. It’s just that, well, her memory’s not quite what it used to be.”
“Alzheimer’s?”
“Yes. Not horribly progressed yet, but there was an incident with the stove and the family felt it best if she had someone with her full time.”
“Of course,” Sabine said, trying to hide her disappointment. “Well, I suppose it can’t hurt then. Anything she can remember is more than I know now, and there aren’t so many alive any longer who were around at that time.”
“Oh,” the nurse brightened. “You want to ask her about the past? You might be in luck, then. On a good day, her memory of years past is very vivid. It’s more recent events that she can’t seem to recall.” She motioned them down a hallway. “If you’ll come with me. She’s sitting in the sunroom. The light is good for her and she often spends evenings in there.”
Feeling a bit more hopeful, Sabine followed the nurse down the hall and into a huge sunroom at the back of the house, Beau close behind. The room was on the west side of the house and the late afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the multitude of blooming plants, causing a burst of color throughout the room. A thin, silver-haired lady sat in a rocking chair at the far corner, gazing out the window at a group of birds playing in a fountain in the backyard. She looked up when they entered the room.
“Mrs. Boudreaux,” the nurse said. “This lady is doing some research on her family and would like to speak to you about them.”
Mrs. Boudreaux looked up at Sabine and squinted. “Do I know you, dear?”
“No, ma’am,” Sabine replied. “I don’t think we’ve ever met before. But I think you know my family.”
“Who’s your family?”
“The Fortescues.”
Mrs. Boudreaux’s face cleared and she smiled. “Why, of course. That’s why you seemed so familiar. You’re the spitting image of your father. Why don’t you and your husband pull up a seat, and I’ll see what I can do to help you.”
Sabine momentarily cringed at the woman’s assumption that Beau was her husband, but it wasn’t worth correcting. She and Beau pulled two wicker chairs closer to Mrs. Boudreaux and took a seat. “So you knew my father?” Sabine asked.
“Of course I did. We attended twelve years of school together, and goodness knows how many times we shared a pew in church. Why, William was almost a brother to me.”
Sabine immediately understood. Mrs. Boudreaux didn’t remember Sabine’s father, Adam. She remembered her grandfather. “That’s nice, Mrs. Boudreaux.”
The woman studied her for a couple of seconds. “Something I don’t unde
rstand…why don’t you just talk to William if you have questions?”
Sabine was prepared for this very question. “I’ve been estranged from the family for quite a while. We’ve just recently come together again and I don’t want to say anything that might upset the relationship. I understand that people of certain social status don’t like to be reminded of or discuss things that might cause embarrassment or sadness. I don’t want to inadvertently upset someone if I can prevent it.”
Mrs. Boudreaux looked pleased. “Very proper of you to remember the family status in your reconciliation. And I suppose since you are family and your purpose is honorable, God won’t consider my talking to you gossip.”
“I’m certain He wouldn’t, Mrs. Boudreaux, or I wouldn’t even have asked.”
Mrs. Boudreaux gave her a single nod of approval. “Well, I can honestly say that the only scandal I’m aware of concerning the Fortescues would have been that business during the war concerning William’s brother, Lloyd. He always was the disreputable one of the family. You would never have known those two boys were raised in the same household, much less born identical.”
“So I take it their looks were where the similarities ended?”
“Heavens, yes. William was a true gentleman, as far back as I can remember. Even in grade school he was always protecting the smaller children from bullies or helping young ladies up the steps.” She smiled. “Our skirts were much longer in those days, and sometimes a steady hand on your elbow helped when you were balancing books in one hand and clutching a large portion of your skirt in the other.”
Sabine smiled at the image of her grandfather helping a young, and likely beautiful, Mrs. Boudreaux into the schoolhouse. “But Lloyd wasn’t a gentleman?”
“Absolutely not. Lloyd was one of the bullies, always stealing lunch money from the younger children when William wasn’t looking. He’d sooner push girls down the steps than help them up, and he was always playing pranks on the teachers, many of them cruel.”
“I imagine once you were older, all the girls chased William.”
Mrs. Boudreaux blushed. “Well, of course, we weren’t so forward back then as children are now. Why sometimes I just cringe at the way they dress and behave in church, and it’s even worse at the market. I have to wonder what kind of future this country has with them as adults. But yes, William had his share of admirers.”
“Anyone special?”
“Not that I ever knew, but I always wondered. Sometimes there would be parties or other events in the school gymnasium. We were mostly chaperoned, but I’d see William sneak out sometimes and not see him again for hours.”
“So where did you think he was going?”
Mrs. Boudreaux shrugged. “I always assumed he was seeing someone the family wouldn’t have approved of. Once at church, I was certain I saw him slip a piece of paper to one of the girls in the back pews. The poorer families sat toward the back of the church then.”
“Do you remember the girl’s name?”
“Heavens, no. I’m not even certain I knew it then, but she was a good Catholic, always at Mass. Not that it would have mattered to his parents. William’s inheritance depended on his making a good marital match. The Fortescues would have insisted. And besides, they’d already picked Catherine for William. The Fortescues had political aspirations for William, and Catherine’s family had the right connections.”
“And that’s who he married, so I guess the family was happy.”
“I suppose they were.”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
Mrs. Boudreaux waved a hand in dismissal. “Oh, it’s probably nothing. We were all children at the time, and I guess if one is going to be foolish, that’s the time to do it.”
“You did something foolish?”
“Not me, dear. Catherine. I had a silly fight with my best friend at a dance one night and decided to walk down the hall and regain my composure. At the end of the hall, I saw Catherine kissing someone in the stairwell. I thought it was William, but when he looked up and saw me, he winked, and I realized it wasn’t William at all, but Lloyd.”
Sabine considered this. “So Catherine fancied Lloyd, and William fancied someone unsuitable, but they still married.”
“Well, yes, dear. Wealth comes with duty, and a marriage between Catherine and William merged two of the most powerful families in southern Louisiana. The elder Fortescues died in a car crash soon after William and Lloyd left to begin their military service. William was firstborn and the estate, its staff, and the largest portion of the family’s assets became his responsibility upon his parents’ death.”
“So he did his duty and married Catherine.”
“You make it sound like such a sacrifice. William and Catherine began seeing each other before he left for the war. All that other nonsense happened in high school, and besides, there were the children to consider.”
“What children?”
“No one really spoke of such things back then, it wasn’t proper, but everyone close to her knew Catherine was pregnant when she and William married. The brothers had been home on leave just a couple of months before, which made the timing possible.”
She wrinkled her brow. “And then there was the wedding itself. A rushed affair. Just the minister in the Fortescues living room and hardly the event that a family of that status would normally have hosted. But then, William was given only a brief leave to make arrangements for his inheritance and attend his parents’ funeral, and Lloyd was already missing in Vietnam and wanted by the military police and the FBI. With his parents’ death, Catherine’s pregnancy, and all the investigation surrounding Lloyd’s disappearance, it’s no wonder the family kept the wedding so private.”
Sabine glanced over at Beau, who nodded. She pressed forward. “Then after his military service, William came home and he and Catherine raised the children. Did everything go well then?”
Mrs. Boudreaux smiled at Sabine. “You were such a beautiful little girl, Frances. Always so full of life and energy. And the questions you would ask. You wanted to know the answers to everything. Precocious is the word, I think. But then I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know.”
Thoughts raced through Sabine’s mind. The elderly woman was obviously confused, but would it do any harm to pretend to be Frances? It took only a moment for her to make up her mind. “Actually, Mrs. Boudreaux, I don’t remember much from my childhood. I wasn’t…well for some time.”
Mrs. Boudreaux continued, “You were just beginning your senior year of high school when I started to notice the change. Before, you’d always been so sweet, so outgoing, but over time you became more and more withdrawn. You barely spoke to people in town and when you did your voice was clipped and filled with anger. Your teachers were at their wits’ end. You were their best student, but your marks had slipped so low they were afraid you wouldn’t even graduate. Then you got meningitis and after a prolonged recovery, Catherine insisted on private tutors for the rest of your education. Why, we hardly saw you again in town after that.”
“And that’s when my parents shut themselves away, also?”
“Well, Catherine was always busy with her church charities and such, but William was never the same after Vietnam.” She frowned. “Such a shame what that kind of tragedy can do to a man. A real shame.”
“Yes, it is,” Sabine agreed.
Mrs. Boudreaux leaned forward in her rocker and patted Sabine’s leg. “I’m so glad you got well, Frances. It’s been so nice talking to you, but if you young people don’t mind, I’m going to take a nap before dinner.”
“Of course,” Sabine said and rose from her chair. “Thank you so much for taking the time to talk to me, Mrs. Boudreaux. It’s been a pleasure meeting you.”
Mrs. Boudreaux nodded once, then dropped off to sleep. Sabine and Beau quietly left the room and let the nurse know they were leaving. They had no sooner turned onto the freeway when Sabine’s cell phone rang.
“Maryse,” Sab
ine said. “What’s up?”
“Something went wrong with the car. Mildred’s been in an accident,” Maryse said, her voice shaky. “I’m at Mudbug General.”
“I’ll be there in thirty minutes,” Sabine said. “Call me as soon as you hear anything.” Sabine closed her phone and looked over at Beau, panic already sweeping over her. “We have to get to Mudbug General. Mildred’s been in a car accident.”
“Don’t start worrying until we know the score,” Beau said. “I’m sure she’s going to be fine. Maryse is with her, right?”
Sabine shook her head. “You don’t understand.”
“Understand what?”
“She was driving my car.”
Chapter Fourteen
Beau tried to get control of his emotions as he raced into the hospital parking lot. Until he had more information, he needed to remain calm, objective. One thing he knew for certain, though: he’d paid far too many trips to the hospital in the last couple of days. They rushed into the emergency room and found Maryse waiting for them right inside the door.
“How is she?” Sabine asked.
“The doctors say she’s going to be fine. Her foot is broken and there’s some burns on her hands and arms, but they can’t find anything else.”
“Burns!” Sabine cried. “Oh my God. What happened?”
Maryse shook her head. “I’m still not quite sure. All I know is Mildred was on her way back from an errand in New Orleans and drove off the road and into the ditch. I don’t know if the car caught on fire before or after she ran off the road. She was only half conscious when they brought her in and all I could make out was her saying ‘Tell Sabine it was the car.’ Then the doctors took her away and now she’s out for the count.”
Beau felt his jaw clench. Cars did not arbitrarily catch fire. “Do you know where they took the car?”
Maryse nodded and pulled a business card from her pocket. “One of the state troopers gave me his card. He wrote down a number on the back for the shop they towed the car to.”
Beau took the card from Maryse and looked over at Sabine. “I’ll need you to call the garage and give them permission to talk to me about the car.”