by Emery, Lynn
They sat at a table near the large window. Keisha sniffled as she patted her nose with a tissue. “I don’t under-stand how this happened. I know that house is in good condition. It can’t have been electrical. I swear I got all the permits and hired the best people to work on it.”
“It’s an old house with old wiring. Anything could have happened. Don’t start blaming yourself.”
“The alarm didn’t go off. But I swear I set it the last time I was there. And Earl, he’s our security coordinator, would check the house at least once a day to be sure. Just until we finally moved the art, I mean.” Keisha twisted the sodden paper between her fingers.
“Keisha, no one is going to say this is your fault,” Lyrissa said calmly.
“Here you go, bay.” The young white woman smiled at them. “I added a dash of vanilla. It’s soothing.”
“Thanks,” Lyrissa said, and paid her.
“You don’t know how Julie can be. She’s never liked me.” Keisha dabbed beneath her eyes. “I have to report to her.” “Julie isn’t the boss. Noel will keep her in line.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Her anxious expression eased into a half-smile. “She tries to boss him around, but he sets her straight.”
“Exactly. Nobody controls Noel St. Denis.” Lyrissa grinned at her.
Noel walked up at that moment. He sat down hard and ordered a cup of black coffee. “Andre is coming with the inventory of the art. Our insurance agent is coming with the adjuster in two hours.”
“We need to get every piece of art some place secure ... what’s left of it.” Lyrissa held her breath and waited.
“The fire wasn’t that big. They contained it pretty fast. Seems it started in the kitchen pantry. Most of the damage is from smoke and water.” Noel accepted his coffee from the waitress and drank deeply.
“How bad?” Lyrissa held her breath.
“The firefighters think it was arson to cover a burglary. They found a pile of oily rags stuffed in a corner of the pantry.”
“What about the alarm?” Lyrissa said.
“The lines had been cut. Several neighbors reported their phones went dead late last night.” Noel rubbed his eyes. “Keisha, they found Earl in one of the rooms upstairs. He’d been knocked out.”
Keisha’s eyes widened with horror. “Oh no! Is he—” “He’s alive, but barely. Smoke inhalation. The fire must have smoldered for a long time before smoke spread through the house. They just found him and took him to the hospital.” Noel rose slowly, as though he carried a heavy weight.
“We have to call his mother,” Keisha said through tears. She glanced at Lyrissa. “Earl is a single parent. Kamal is four and Jasmine is ten. His wife was killed two years ago in a car accident.”
“Earl’s sister is going to keep the kids. Can you go to the hospital and stay with his mother? I’ll wait here for Andre and the insurance people.”
Keisha stood up. She collected herself. “Of course. I’ll make sure she’s okay, then come back.”
“Let me help,” Lyrissa said to Noel.
“No, baby. I’ll get you a cab back to the apartment. It was good having you here, though. I love you,” he murmured and kissed her lightly.
Lyrissa watched him walk away. Keisha hurried off in the opposite direction with a distracted goodbye. She sat alone, gazing at the hustle of activity from firemen. The coffee shop filled with customers who talked about the fire and rumors they*d heard. Their voices were muffled. Lyrissa only heard echoes of Noel’s deep voice saying, “I love you.”
“What the hell happened?” Carlton paced the floor of his office and wrung his hands. “How did Earl get hint?”
Julie sat in a leather chair. She seemed tense but in control. “Lower your voice or the whole office will hear you,” she said in a dipped tone.
Carlton halted and darted a frightened glance at the closed door. He sat next to her. “The house was supposed to be empty. You didn’t mention anything about a fire. The collection was supposed to be intact after all this settled down,” he whispered harshly.
“I’d moved most of the good pieces to the front room after that wine and cheese party I hosted. Remember, they ‘stole’ most of it, anyway. Nothing valuable was seriously damaged.” Julie waved a hand.
“And Earl?”
Julie wore an irritated frown. “That fool wasn’t sup-posed to be there. He must have changed his schedule. Anyway, Keisha says he’ll live.”
“Was he burned?” Carlton flinched as though feeling the flames.
“No, just a bit of smoke inhalation. He might be in the hospital for a while, maybe have lung problems,” Julie said in a distracted tone. Earl’s health did not seem to be her real concern.
“Good God, Julie! Noel says the police will charge the arsonist with attempted murder if they catch them.” Carlton rubbed his face with a shaky hand.
“That’s a big if. Arson is a very difficult crime to solve.” Julie tilted her head to one side. “Actually, the fire wasn’t a dumb move. Anyway, those guys will make sure they don’t get caught now.”
“If they’d been smart, they would have made the fire look like an accident.”
“I told Keisha that those rags had been left after the cleaning crew finished up. The fire actually started in a wall. So the fire department isn’t sure it wasn’t accidental now.” Julie smiled at him.
“Yeah, and Keisha also told them all about the electrical contract work,” Carlton shot back. “They’ve ruled that out as a cause.”
“I never would have guessed she had that much intelligence.” Julie’s thin mouth turned down into a sour expression.
“Seems your plan wasn’t so well thought out after all,” Carlton snarled.
“A minor detail. They’re calling it a suspicious fire. As I said, most arson cases are never solved. Except this one will be, with a little help from us.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re so cocky!” Carlton stood and went to his desk. He sat down hard.
“Stay calm and everything will fall into place. Lyrissa will get a nasty surprise very soon. Imagine thinking she could get away with such a scheme.” Julie wore a nasty smile.
“Why should anyone believe she’d steal art?” He shook his head. “You must have been crazy to hire street criminals to commit burglary. Now Earl is hurt, and—”
“Shut up, Carlton!” Julie leaned forward and pointed a manicured finger at him. “It was your idea to frame her, or have you forgotten?”
He shrunk back against the chair. “Okay, okay. What’s done is done,” Carlton muttered. “Just make sure those men can be trusted to keep their mouths shut.”
Julie snorted. “Hell no, they can’t be trusted. They’re scum! But they’re well-paid scum who don’t know who we are.”
“How do you know those kind of people?” Carlton wore a curious expression.
“Never mind. Except for this little blip with Earl getting hurt, we can still win.”
He studied her in silence for several seconds. “You’re cold-blooded, Julie.”
A slow smile spread across her face. “Worried?” Carlton continued to look at her a few moments more before he shook his head. “No, your fingerprints are all over the dirty work. You made the contacts and set things in motion.”
“Yes, I did. I can prove you gave me the money, though.” Her eyes glittered with malice.
Tiny beads of sweat popped out on his forehead. “How?”
Julie stood and smoothed the front of her green Donna
Karan dress. “We’re in this together. Don’t make the mistake of thinking otherwise.” She strolled out of his office without a backward glance.
Carlton rocked his chair back and forth in a jerky, nervous motion. “Bitch!” he mumbled low.
Lyrissa, Mama Grace, and Aunt Claire were in Ebony’s law office on Camp Street. They were on the tenth floor of a twenty-story building. The window behind Ebony gave them a view of the New Orleans business district skyline. The brilliant blue sky was dotted wi
th fluffy clouds. Yet the idyllic scene contrasted with the anger in the office.
“This is a plot to steal our painting again!” Mama Grace pounded on Ebony’s desk as she spoke.
Ebony moved a crystal pen stand away from her. “Take it easy,” she said.
“Noel wouldn’t do such a thing,” Lyrissa said for the tenth time in five minutes. “You’re being paranoid.”
“Grace has a point, Lyrissa. The St. Denis family can be very crafty,” Aunt Claire said with nod.
“Look at the lies they’ve spread about Jules Joubert!” Mama Grace slapped a palm on a recent copy of the magazine with the stories.
“All those women and illegitimate children!” Aunt Claire’s eyes twinkled. “He drank like a fish. We knew that. But, my goodness. When did he find the time, not to mention the energy, to paint?” She started to giggle, then stopped at a venomous look from Mama Grace.
“And he made copies of his own work, then sold them as the originals.” Ebony shook her head. “I won’t he to you, this is bad.”
“I want to sue them for defamation of character and get our painting back.” Mama Grace shook a finger at Ebony.
“You can’t defame a dead person, Miss Grace,” Ebony said patiently.
“You should have told us about Jules, Mama Grace,” Lyrissa added. “We’d look like idiots, pressing a lawsuit now.”
Mama Grace huffed for a few moments. “So he wasn’t perfect,” she admitted grudgingly.
Aunt Claire put a hand to her mouth as she smothered another giggle. Ebony cleared her throat loudly and glanced at Lyrissa.
“In other words, most of it’s true.”
“Which doesn’t change one basic fact—they stole his painting and we’ve got the documents to prove it.” Mama Grace wore an intractable scowl.
“We’d better wait. No need in pressing your claim now. I’m sure Mrs. St. Denis will dredge up more dirt on the old rascal. I mean Mr. Joubert,” Ebony added quickly, when Mama Grace glared at her.
“Then there’s the police investigation of the burglary.” Lyrissa got up and walked around to the window. “Very smart thieves. They took five of the most valuable pieces.”
“One of which just happened to be our painting. What a coincidence!” Mama Grace said, sarcasm dripping from her voice.
“She’s got a point, Lyrissa. My suspicious legal mind teds me something is up,” Ebony said.
Lyrissa spun around and looked at Ebony. Her friend’s skeptical expression said it all. Mama Grace gave a curt nod. Aunt Claire lifted a shoulder. She wanted to refute the argument, but couldn’t. She’d thought the same thing more than once.
“Noel isn’t involved, even if what you’re thinking is true,” she insisted.
“Your totally objective assessment, of course,” Ebony said quietly.
“I know him. Noel would fight us face to face. This kind of sneaky stunt isn’t his style,” Lyrissa said.
“He’s a St. Denis! All charm, but deadly as a snake.” Mama Grace spoke with conviction. “You’ve got to face the truth, Lyrissa Michelle.”
“I know his family’s reputation is deserved.” Lyrissa stared out the window again. “But Noel wouldn’t... either way, Ebony is right. We should wait.”
“We don’t even know where the painting is, anyway.” Aunt Claire blinked rapidly as she glanced at them all in turn.
“That was going to be my next point, Miss Claire,” Ebony said. “Let’s use the time to make our documentation damn near irrefutable.” Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t intend to lose.”
“I’ll go over every piece of paper myself.” Mama Grace stood. “Come on, Claire.” Sure of her younger sister’s obedience, she marched out without looking at her.
Aunt Claire rose from the chair slowly. She walked over to Ebony and pecked her on the cheek. “I know you’ll kick legal butt.”
Ebony laughed out loud. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Auntie Claire.”
“You’re welcome. As for you, sugar,” she went to Lyrissa and hugged her, “I know how you feel. I hope you’re right about him. Bye-bye, girls.”
Lyrissa sat on the edge of Ebony’s desk with her arms folded. Ebony swiveled her captain’s chair slowly back and forth. Neither woman spoke for a time. They listened to the distant sound of phones ringing outside Ebony’s door.
“What a mess,” Lyrissa said finally.
“Girl, I don’t like this crap one bit. I’m getting a bad feeling about the whole thing.” Ebony tapped a black Cross pen on her yellow legal pad.
“Me, too, Eb.” Lyrissa watched a cloud shaped like a cotton ball drift across the blue sky. “I’m not going to sit and wait, though.”
Ebony glanced at her. “What are you going to do?” Lyrissa looked back at her with a determined smile. “I’m not sure, but I’m working on it.”
Chapter 24
Lyrissa walked beside Noel down one of the many paved paths in Audubon Park. The sunny morning had turned cloudy. Neither spoke more than a few words for thirty minutes. Noel held her hand loosely, a thoughtful frown on his handsome face. She’d allowed him time to think. Yet her anxiety grew as his expression became more distracted.
“It might rain. We should have come prepared, like good scouts.” She tugged at his hand playfully.
“No, we didn’t expect bad weather so soon.”
“Let’s sit down over here.” Lyrissa pointed to a bench sheltered under a wide oak.
They strolled over and Noel brushed a few leaves from the seat. They sat down and Noel gazed out over the park. Lyrissa knew his mind wasn’t on the view.
“We might as well say it out loud.” Lyrissa looped her arm around his.
“This whole fight over a painting is way past crazy,” Noel said.
“I’d suggest we negotiate, but I’m scared to put our grandmothers in the same room. I can see the headline, ‘Septuagenarians Choke Each Other to Death,’ ” Lyrissa deadpanned.
“God, yes! All the family secrets are out there on both sides of this feud.” Noel grew quiet again.
Lyrissa glanced at him. “What?”
Noel turned to her. “I’m proud of my family. Sure, my relatives, past and present, have done a few things close to the line. But those stories pretty much label us as gangsters.”
“You’ve got to admit a lot of it is true. Most of the stories about Jules are hundred-year-old gossip,” Lyrissa said defensively.
“At least three women declared him as the father of their children in court, and what about the copies of his paintings?” Noel let go of her hand.
“Accusations, not proof,” she replied.
“Gustave St. Denis founded schools for poor blacks in New Orleans. His grandson helped freed slaves who poured into this city after the civil war,” he replied in a stiff tone.
Lyrissa heard his grandmother’s brand of pride in his voice. She looked at him hard, remembering Mama Grace’s warnings. “Gustave St. Denis ‘acquired’ a lot of real estate in a shady fashion. He also supported the Confederate government in Louisiana. Then, once the Union Army captured the city, he became a carpetbagger.” “He never truly supported the Confederacy or slavery. His journals prove that,” Noel said heatedly.
“So he lied when it suited his needs. Oh, I almost forgot—he was a founding member of the Astoria Club. They didn’t admit dark-skinned Blacks. Your parents are members, too.” Lyrissa arched her eyebrows.
“Those days are gone and you know it,” Noel snapped. “On the surface, maybe,” Lyrissa shot back.
“Don’t generalize about my friends and family, damn it.” Noel sat forward with his elbows propped on his knees. “Talk about being biased!”
They sat next to each other in tense silence. Lyrissa wondered why one of them didn’t just get up and leave. Something held her to the bench, an invisible cord that connected her to him. Yet each angry word sawed away at it. Soon they’d be hanging on by a slender thread.
“Maybe we should stick to talking about the weather, af
ter all,” she said finally.
Noel sighed and sat back against the bench. “We haven’t even gotten to the fire and the burglary.”
“You know what my grandmother thinks.” Lyrissa looked across the wide green lawn.
“That we set it up. My folks feel the same way about your family.”
“I defended you,” Lyrissa said with a faint smile. “Thanks. I defended you until we were all shouting at each other.” Noel leaned toward her and put an arm across the back of the bench.
She nodded. “Did you ever once think—”
“No,” he broke in sharply. “Did you think I might have been responsible?”
“No, but..Lyrissa plucked at the hem of her cotton blouse.
“Yeah, my family. They didn’t do it, Lyrissa.” Noel rubbed his jaw with one large hand. “The police said they’re going to call you.”
“They haven’t yet. Of course, I’ll tell them everything I know.”
Noel wound a tendril of her hair around his forefinger. “I don’t want to lose you,” he said softly.
“I don’t want to lose you, either, but we’re up against a lot here.”
“Then we have to be stronger than the scandals, the rumors, the prejudices, and our relatives.” He pulled her against his chest.
“Right,” Lyrissa murmured. A tall order indeed, she mused.
Miss Georgina scowled at Noel over the top of her reading glasses. “She’s got you fooled, Noel Phillip!”
Noel sat on the large sofa in his grandmother’s sun room. He folded his arms in a defensive posture and braced himself for another tirade. His parents sat on either side of his grandmother like soldiers supporting the general. Julie had joined them at his grandmother’s request. She stood to one side with a cup of coffee in one hand.
“I understand why you’re so angry, but Lyrissa isn’t a thief,” he replied in a calm tone. “I’m not going to listen to your accusations again.”
His mother put down her coffee cup. “Be reasonable, son. You can’t believe this sequence of events is a coincidence.”
“It does seem a bit odd, Noel,” his father put in. Richard lifted a shoulder. “The timing is suspicious.”