The Reunion: The Secret of Cypriere Bayou

by Jana DeLeon

  Alaina nodded. “I thought the same thing at first. But I think that over time, Purcell started to lose it. I think he stayed for a while thinking he’d make enough money on the sale of estate assets, but once he paid off his helpers, there wasn’t much left.”

  “So he started the buy-and-sell game.”

  “Exactly, but I think the longer he stayed in the house, the more unstable he became until finally, he was trapped there with his own dark deeds staring him in the face every day.”

  Joelle looked at the list of assets again. What Alaina said made sense. Purcell thought he had everything planned to collect a fortune and disappear—probably to another country where his mob buddies couldn’t find him. He must have grown more desperate with every failed attempt to get out of Calais, and more psychotic with every moment he was forced to remain hidden away in the swamp.

  The page she’d turned to only had three missing items on it—a vase, a set of silverware and an entry that simply said “diamonds.”

  “I guess this was Mother’s necklace?” Joelle asked, pointing to the diamonds notation.

  “That’s what I assumed. It was the only jewelry listed. Apparently none of the women in our family tree went in for glitter and flash.”

  “How come it doesn’t have an estimated value?”

  Alaina shook her head. “I assumed it was because it had never been appraised.”

  “Probably not. She was so young. Death would have been the last thing on her mind. I guess it’s foolish to hope we’ll ever find a trace of it.”

  “My guess is he removed the stones and sold them—melted down the gold.”

  Bastard. The word echoed through Joelle’s mind and she turned her attention back to the paperwork in an attempt to drown it out. She flipped to the next page, then frowned. “A necklace is listed on this page. No other description, but it’s got a value of thirty thousand. If the diamond listing was Mother’s necklace, then what is this?”

  “Let me see.” Alaina took the list from her and checked the notations. “I worked on the items so sporadically, I must have missed this. That’s some shoddy work.”

  “You’ve had a couple of things on your mind besides tracking down stolen property.”

  Alaina frowned. “I don’t remember Mother wearing any other jewelry except the necklace, and that was rare, but then my memory isn’t all that reliable. She had a wedding band from her marriage to our father, but I don’t think she even had that when she was married to Purcell. I suppose we could call the estate accountant and ask.”

  “Might as well tie everything down as much as possible,” Joelle agreed.

  Alaina grabbed her cell phone off the coffee table and dialed the accountant, then put the phone on speaker.

  “Leonard, this is Alaina LeBeau,” Alaina said when the accountant answered.

  “Hello, Ms. LeBeau. What can I do for you today?”

  “I’m working on the asset list with my sister Joelle, and we had a question for you.”

  “I’ll be glad to provide any answers that I have.”

  “Great. On page eight, you have a necklace listed, but on page seventeen, you have a listing that simply reads ‘diamonds.’ We can’t remember our mother owning any valuable jewelry other than her diamond necklace, so we’re a bit confused.”

  “Yes, the necklace listing is for the teardrop diamond necklace I’ve seen your mother wearing in photographs. I assume that’s the one you remember?”

  “Yes, that’s right. So then what are the diamonds in the other listing, and why don’t they have a value assigned?”

  “They’re a bit of speculation, if you ask me, although the senior partner who has managed your mother’s estate for the last forty years assures me they exist, or existed. The story is that your great-grandparents, or some other relative far up the line, acquired some uncut stones reported to be of very high value. The senior partner always assumed that some of them were used to make the necklace your mother wore, as it was a gift from her parents on her eighteenth birthday. But for all we know, the uncut stones never existed, or they used all of them for the necklace and no more remain.”

  “We’ve found no record of such stones in the paperwork we’ve been through so far,” Alaina said. “But thank you for the information. If we find anything that seems to confirm the stones’ existence, we’ll let you know.”

  “Thank you very much, Ms. LeBeau. I hope you and your sister have a lovely day.”

  Alaina disconnected the call and looked over at Joelle. “What do you want to bet those stones do exist—or existed?”

  “I was thinking the same thing. Uncut diamonds are definitely something Purcell would stick around for, but he must not have found them, or he would have left.”

  “Maybe Mother wouldn’t tell him where they were. Maybe that’s why...”

  Alaina didn’t finish her sentence, but she didn’t have to. If Purcell killed Ophelia in a fit of rage over the diamonds, that would explain the cover-up.

  “Do you think that’s what the others are looking for?” Joelle asked.

  Alaina shook her head. “How would they even know about them? Purcell would never have told anyone because he’d want them to himself, and if a rumor about them ever floated through Calais, William or Willamina would have heard it.”

  “Do you think they existed?”

  “Maybe...probably, but maybe it’s like the accountant said and they were used to make Mother’s necklace.”

  Joelle sighed. “I suppose that’s more logical than thinking a fortune in diamonds has sat undiscovered in the house for decades.”

  “Another potential lead blasted to shreds. I don’t know how Carter does this type of work every day. I thought being a lawyer was hard, but this is simply exhausting.”

  “It does give me a new appreciation for law enforcement.”

  “Well, I guess it’s back to the paperwork and hopefully a new lead. I have a client meeting tomorrow morning in New Orleans, then I’m going to pay Danae a visit and help her work through some more of the documents. I’ll fill her in on the diamond angle so she knows to pay special attention to anything that might mention them.”

  As Alaina reached for a stack of papers, the front door to the cabin opened and Carter and Tyler walked in. Alaina jumped up from the couch to give Carter a hug. Joelle’s heart ached a bit as she watched Alaina wrap her arms around Carter and kiss him gently on the lips.

  The look of absolute adoration on Carter’s face was so clear, and while Joelle was thrilled for her sister, she couldn’t help but want the same thing for herself. Carter was a wonderful man, and he and Alaina were perfect for each other. Before she’d seen them together, Joelle had assumed talk of soul mates was a plot device for romance books, but looking at her sister and Carter, she knew she was wrong. It was possible to have your own happy ending.

  She glanced up at Tyler, who stood just inside the doorway. He stared at his friend and Alaina, an odd expression on his face, as though he was trying to make sense of it all. He glanced over at Joelle, but when their eyes met, he immediately looked away. Joelle’s chest tightened and another trickle of disappointment ran through her.

  “I didn’t even hear you pull up,” Alaina said when she released Carter.

  “Too engrossed in your work,” Carter said. “How’s it going?”

  Alaina filled them in on the diamond theory.

  “Doesn’t sound like much,” Carter said.

  “No,” Alaina agreed. “We figure it was enough for Purcell, but we can’t think of any way the others would have heard about them.”

  “They certainly wouldn’t have from Purcell.”

  “That’s what we figured. So whoever is breaking into the house is probably looking for something else.”

  Carter nodded, but Joelle could tell that he
wasn’t really focusing on the conversation. The tension he’d worn when he first entered the cabin was back, and she wondered if whatever was bothering Carter was part of the reason Tyler seemed even more distant that usual.

  “So what were you two doing?” Alaina asked.

  She tried to keep the question casual, but Joelle could tell that her sister had sensed something was wrong.

  “I got a call this morning that a fisherman found a body washed up on the east bank.”

  “Oh, no!” Alaina said. “I suppose it’s pointless to ask if it’s someone you knew, as the town has less than five hundred people. I’m sorry, Carter.”

  “I’m not. The body was Victor Brant.”

  Joelle sucked in a breath as the room started to spin. Alaina rushed over to sit beside her and put her arm across her shoulders.

  “Breathe deeply,” Alaina said.

  Joelle let the breath slowly out and some of the dizziness began to subside. Finally, she found her voice. “You’re sure it’s him?”

  Carter nodded. “He hadn’t been in the water very long. It was easy to identify him from the photo I passed around. The coroner will do an official identification, of course, but as far as I’m concerned, it’s official.”

  “I can’t believe it,” Joelle said, her voice barely a whisper.

  “It’s true,” Tyler finally spoke. “I saw him myself and have no doubt it’s Brant.”

  Weeks of tension began to slip from Joelle as she began to realize all the implications Carter’s announcement carried. “I’m safe,” she said.

  “Safe from Brant,” Tyler said. “But someone is still entering the house, and given what happened to Alaina and Danae, we’re not about to let up on the investigation or the security.”

  “Tyler’s right,” Carter agreed. “Don’t get me wrong—this is a major improvement for you, Joelle, but we’re not about to assume the house is safe. We can’t take the risk.”

  Alaina nodded. “Tyler, if you don’t mind, we’d like to do some work at the estate today. We were just waiting on you to return.”

  “That’s fine,” Tyler said.

  “I can’t join you yet,” Carter said. “I’ve got to go talk to the state police and sort everything out with Brant. Joelle, if you know how to get in touch with Brant’s wife, now would be the time. The police are going to want to talk to her.”

  “I will call my point person. They give all the women a prepaid cell phone when they go under. She’ll be able to fill her in. Should his wife contact the Jackson police?”

  “Yeah. As far as I’m concerned, it’s an open-and-shut file. I don’t need anything from her. I sent them your statement on Brant’s attack yesterday, but they’re probably going to want to talk to you in person at some point.”

  Joelle nodded. That was one conversation she looked forward to having.

  * * *

  IT WAS ALMOST nine o’clock when Joelle, freshly showered, pulled on yoga pants and a T-shirt and propped herself up against the wall in the little twin bed that she and Tyler had shared the night before. Alaina and Carter had stayed late, all four of them working through the house, looking for anything that might provide them a direction for investigation. Alaina and Joelle made spaghetti and garlic bread for dinner and they’d had a pleasant, if not overly dynamic, meal before Alaina and Carter headed home.

  Tyler hadn’t stood guard outside the bathroom door this time, but she knew he was close by. Now he stuck his head in the bedroom.

  “I’m going to shower.”

  “I don’t need to sit in there with you again, do I? I mean, with Brant dead...”

  “The immediate danger to you is probably gone. I think you’re fine staying in here. You’ve got your pistol, right?”

  She lifted her book from the nightstand, exposing the pistol underneath.

  “Good,” he said. “Lock the door behind me. I’ll knock when I’m done.”

  He pulled the door closed behind him and Joelle jumped off the bed to push the dead bolt into place. The entire time he’d been talking, Tyler had barely looked at her. She’d hoped with some time passing and Brant’s death, that Tyler might loosen his stranglehold on his opinion of her job, as Alaina thought he would. But apparently, he was going to need more time than she’d hoped.

  She walked back to the corner and flopped back on the bed. Who was she kidding? Twelve hours wasn’t enough time for some people to make up their mind on positioning the toilet paper over versus under, much less change their mind on major life decision points like what kind of woman they wanted to have a relationship with.

  What she needed to do was focus on her blessings—and they were many—instead of dwelling on things she couldn’t have. Take Brant, for example. Joelle’s contact had called her back after relaying the information concerning Brant’s death to his wife. The woman had collapsed in tears of joy, and the other rescued women she lived with cheered. That was a victory. It was a shame that they lived in a world that required someone to die in order to let someone else live out their life free of terror, but at least this time, the victim was the one still standing. It had turned out the other way more times than Joelle wanted to remember.

  She glanced down at the romance novel lying beside her and sighed. It seemed everywhere she looked a woman was getting a bright future—Alaina, Danae, and always in fiction. When she’d come to Calais, she’d hoped to get her family back, and she had. The money was a huge plus, but not the most important thing, although it was going to allow her to help so many more women than before. What she hadn’t expected was to find a man who tugged at her heart the way Tyler did. Somewhere in the midst of all the chaos, she’d tumbled headfirst for the sexy marine, and now, the thought of moving forward without him made her heart ache.

  The shower went off in the next room and she grabbed her book, determined to appear collected and aloof. No way would she spend the entire night staring at Tyler like a lovesick puppy. She was going to read her book until she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer, then for the first time since she’d arrived in Calais, she was going to get a good night’s sleep.

  The knock on the door startled her for a second before she remembered Tyler had her bolt herself in. She jumped up and slid the bolt back, then hurried back to her bed without even a backward glance at Tyler. The bookmark was on page eighty, so that’s where she started, but if she was being honest, she couldn’t remember a thing about the story. Still, she was determined to look busy, so she focused on the words and started to read.

  It lasted about two seconds.

  Tyler stood with his back to her, his hair still damp from the shower. He had on sweatpants but no shirt, and one look at his marvelously cut back had her hands itching to touch every inch of him as she had the night before. He bent over to retrieve a T-shirt out of his suitcase, and she held in a sigh.

  It was going to be a very, very long night.

  He pulled the T-shirt over his head, then sat on his bed with his back against the wall, clutching a file folder. Joelle had heard him request some police records from Carter, and the stamp on the outside was a dead giveaway. Apparently, Tyler intended to do some night reading, as well.

  Fine.

  She pulled the pillow behind her back to a more comfortable position, then dove back into her book. Before she knew it, her eyes were drooping—the events of the day finally catching up with her—and she dropped off to sleep.

  * * *

  SHE WASN’T SUPPOSED to be out of bed, but Joelle loved the still night air of the house—loved roaming around its vast open areas and dozens of nooks and crannies when no one else stirred. Things were reversed, she thought. If she could stay up all night and sleep all morning, life would be perfect.

  Well, as perfect as it could be with him in the house.

  She’d begged Mommy the night before, an
d that was something Joelle never did. Begging was for little girls with no manners, but she’d abandoned all training and begged Mommy to make the bad man leave. Mommy had hugged her and cried and whispered that she wanted to make him leave, but she couldn’t just yet. She’d asked Joelle to be patient like the big girl Mommy knew she was.

  Tonight, Joelle had crept into the attic. In all the ancient trunks, the attic held untold treasures—dresses and shoes from so long ago, you could only see them in books. Joelle loved trying on the beautiful layers of satin and lace and standing in front of the dusty mirror to try to figure out what she’d look like when she was older. She hoped she looked like Mommy, as Mommy was the most beautiful lady in the world. Alaina already looked like Mommy and it made Joelle jealous of her older sister.

  She had no idea what time it was when she crept out of the attic staircase and onto the second-floor landing, but it had been dark outside for some time. She paused at the edge of the hallway and peeked around at the balcony. All she had to do was scurry down one side of the balcony and she’d be at the hallway to the bedroom. Then she was in the clear.

  The balcony was empty and silent, so she slipped around the corner and hurried down the carpeted runner in the center of the wooden flooring. But when she was halfway to the safety zone, she heard the front door open and hushed voices echoed up from the entry. Immediately, she dropped on her hands and knees so that they couldn’t see her if they looked upstairs. She recognized one of the voices as the bad man. The other voice was low and raspy.

  She waited, hoping they’d move off to the kitchen or one of the formal areas on the first floor, because if they came upstairs, she was caught for sure. No way could she make it across the balcony, down the hall and into her bedroom before they climbed the stairs. Praying that the wooden floors didn’t squeak, she started to crawl toward the hallway, staying as far away from the balcony as the carpeted runner allowed.

  She’d only made it a couple of feet before she heard Mommy. The fear in Mommy’s voice made her freeze again. Joelle knew Mommy was afraid of the bad man, but she’d never heard her sound like this. Something was wrong—even more wrong than usual.