by Emery, Lynn
“Sad for the Dalcour family, but hardly a reason to imply we have anything to do with it.” Darcy lost none of his poise.
“Vincent made many enemies, sheriff.” Henry looked not the least bit sympathetic. “He had a habit of putting his hands on what belonged to other men.”
Simon surprised them all by saying, “Not very nice, but no excuse for murder.”
Silence fell on the room. Rae glanced at the Joves. Gone was the aura of power; the glittering film that made them all appear so different, and better than others. Now Henry Jove looked like an anxious old man, worried that the past had finally come back to haunt him.
Toya sat twisting her hands, her face drawn with sorrow and resentment. An insecure woman craving attention from a man whose love she had never understood how to keep. Darcy, handsome and polished, was like one of those collector dolls with not a hint of warmth or regard for anyone but himself. Cecile sat back down in the imitation leather chair, looking like a wilted flower.
Even when she had despised them most, Rae realized that she’d held the same view of them as a kind of minor royalty as everyone else. With that veil stripped away, she now understood that nursing the old grievances had only given them more power. Lucien had never learned this lesson. Then the door opened again.
“They’re here, sheriff.” Deputy Zeringue spoke in a voice of awe.
Several other deputies hovered outside in the hall, speaking in undertones. There was a hum of voices as it became clear that others in the station were just as excited.
“Unless you plan to charge me or a member of my family with this alleged murder, we’re leaving.” Henry stood up to his full height. “Come, Cecile.” He held out his hand to his wife, who took it with a look of relief.
“Yes, Henry. And sheriff, don’t think you won’t be hearing from… Ahh!” Cecile screamed. Turning pale, her mouth worked as a keening sound came out.
“What’s wrong with you, woman?” Henry followed Cecile’s gaze and then dropped her hand, before walking across the room like a man hypnotized. “Mon Dieu!” he mumbled in a quavering voice.
“Bonjour, Henri. Comment ça va?” A woman with dark hair, streaked with iron gray, walked into the room. Her smile was sad. “It’s been a lifetime, eh?”
“Estelle!” Henry stopped within a foot of her. He gazed at her, as though he could not get enough of looking. “My Estelle.” He reached out and placed a fingertip on her right cheek.
“Not the same girl who hurt you so. No, not the same.” Estelle gazed back at him with a look of hard-gained wisdom.
A hush seemed to descend over the entire station. The only sound was the soft mewing that came from Cecile. She collapsed into the chair and sat rocking, both arms wrapped around her body.
“She told me you were dead,” Henry whispered.
Estelle looked at Cecile. “So that’s how you finally got what you wanted. Not that I can pass judgment on you. I was a faithless wife, a thief and a murderess. I am old now. God has already punished me more any human could.”
LaMar appeared behind her. “But you didn’t kill Vincent, Mrs. Jordan.”
“Jordan?” Henry asked.
“My third husband. None of them worth spit,” Estelle said with bitterness.
“Wait a minute,” broke in Sheriff Thibodeaux with a frown. “This is too bizarre and confusing.”
“An understatement,” Simon mumbled close to Rae’s ear.
“I thought my grandmother killed Pawpaw Vincent and Estelle,” Rae said. “That theory was way off the mark, obviously.”
“I am old with arthritis in both knees. I must sit now.” Estelle eased down into a chair. Everyone else sat down mechanically and watched her with an air of expectation.
“Mrs. Jordan is very tired.” LaMar treated her like an elderly aunt.
“I’ll start, if you like,” Rae said.
“Thank you, baby.” Estelle cocked her head to one side as she looked at Rae. “You got his eyes. Yeah, I could see Vincent the moment I saw them pretty eyes.”
“I really need a formal statement.” Sheriff Thibodeaux
Estelle nodded to Rae. “Oui, you begin. I’m so weary.” She closed her eyes; her russet face etched with lines. Her tone revealed that her spirit was as worn down as her body.
Rae cleared her throat and glanced at Henry. “Vincent had been having an affair with Mrs. Jordan–”
“Estelle, call me that, cher. Make me feel like I’m young again, mais oui?”
“With Estelle. She wanted to get away, so she stole the money. Vincent didn’t know until she told him. Then she played on his love for high living and convinced him that he deserved it.” Rae warmed to the tale.
Everyone was staring at her, except Henry, who could not stop staring at Estelle.
“But how did she manage it?” Toya asked in a soft voice.
“Mr. Henry had a safe containing the cash. He kept it there in his office. Vincent had been alone in the office several times that week, so everyone assumed it was him,” said LaMar.
Estelle brushed back a stray tendril of hair in a small gesture that made Henry sigh. “But no one noticed flighty me left alone in the office. Henry was so preoccupied with his new business, he thought nothing of it.”
“Anyway, Estelle asked Vincent to go away with her.” Rae was about to go on, but Henry’s hoarse voice cut her off.
“Why, Estelle? I gave you everything. I wanted nothing but to please you.” Henry pleaded for an answer to the question that had eaten into him for fifty years.
“You treated me like a possession. That I was a prized possession did not make it better. You watched me – always watching with hungry eyes. I felt that I’d been swallowed whole, like I was suffocating.”
“So Dalcour played on this?” Henry snarled, angry at the dead man.
Estelle opened her eyes to look back over the decades. “Vincent was so dashing, always with that wonderful laugh and such a voice. He sang to me so sweetly.”
“Vincent met Estelle in the woods, as they’d arranged. But he got cold feet. He didn’t want to leave his family or be called a thief, so he changed his mind.” Rae felt a lump in her throat at the mere thought of what came next.
Estelle did not look at anyone, but spoke as though she knew what LaMar was thinking. “I loved him and here he was, telling me it was all a game. He said ‘we just havin’ a little fun, cher. You oughta know that.’ He laughed when I threatened him. When he turned his back, I picked up a big rock and hit him hard. I was sure I’d killed him. But I hadn’t, had I?”.
Henry blinked back tears. “I followed you that night.”
“Grandfather, don’t say anymore,” Darcy said sharply.
“He’s ill. The stroke has left him disoriented,” Toya put in with fervor.
“Hush, you two,” Sheriff Thibodeaux commanded. “Go head, Mr. Henry.”
“I was glad to see him there on the ground. How dare he touch my wife? Estelle wouldn’t listen. She just kept crying and calling for him.” Henry passed a shaky hand over his eyes.
“C’est pas de ta faute, cher (I don’t blame you, dear),” Estelle said in low voice. “I drove you to it.”
“I choked her until she stopped breathing.” Henry looked at his hands, as though they were not his. “How could I kill the thing I loved so?”
“But you didn’t, cher. Non, I just fainted.” Estelle looked past him again. “Shall I go on, Cecile?”
“Why did you come back? The only reason I let you live, you whore, is that you promised never to come back!” Cecile was transformed into a vengeful woman, her face twisted with hatred. “Henry is mine!”
The two women glared at each other for several seconds.
“Miss Cecile killed Vincent?” Simon shook his head to clear it. “This has more twists and turns than a maze.”
LaMar stood up, causing all heads to turn his way again. “Cecile had followed Mr. Henry into the woods. She watched him choke Estelle, and then convinced him that
he’d murdered her. He was so shook up that he agreed to let her handle things from there.”
“I couldn’t bear to look at her. Not after…” Henry’s strangled voice trailed away.
“Estelle came to after a few minutes. Cecile must have been startled, but she acted quickly. She convinced Estelle that she’d go to the electric chair for killing Vincent if she stayed. Cecile said she’d never tell, but only if Estelle left and never returned.” LaMar glanced at Cecile. “Real cool customer. What she didn’t tell Estelle was that Vincent wasn’t dead either, at least not yet.”
Everyone looked at Cecile with expressions of shock and horror.
“He started stirring. Estelle was so dizzy and didn’t notice, the fool. I scared her silly about the death house at Angola.” Cecile cackled at her own cleverness. “Marie came out of nowhere. Said she’d see to Vincent while I hustled Estelle to the car and got her to drive off. Oui, she took care of him all right.”
Sheriff Thibodeaux scratched his head. “Ain’t that somethin’?”
“Marie had followed Vincent. She’d seen him laughing about how much fun he’d been having. He cut a hole in her heart and didn’t even think twice. I knew exactly how she felt,” Cecile said harshly. “He got what he deserved.”
Rae recoiled at the toll that a lifetime of hatred had taken on so many lives. She leaned against Simon, who cradled her.
“It’s okay, baby,” he whispered. “I’m here.”
“So, Marie murdered Vincent while he was still lying on the ground semi-conscious. Poor guy never knew what hit him. Estelle ran off, convinced she was a murderer.” LaMar took a deep breath. “Estelle eventually settled in Trinidad, after travelling through South America and the Caribbean for several years.”
“Too scared to settle in one place,” Estelle added by way of explanation.”
Rae looked at Estelle. “But you were seen with a man in New Orleans,” she said.
“Yes, I met him on the dock. My second husband – a drunkard and a liar,” Estelle replied. “I thought he would protect me. Always, I chose the wrong man.”
“How did you stay hidden all these years?” Simon asked.
“I never settled in one place for long at first. But, after fifteen years, I settled in Trinidad. I figured I was safe enough. Truthfully, I didn’t care by then.”
A stunned silence hung in the air until Sheriff Thibodeaux gave a grunt and stood up. “Well, that’s that. Like I said, Miz Estelle, I’m gonna need a formal statement. Need one from Mr. and Mrs. Jove as well.”
Darcy went to stand next to Henry. “My grandfather can’t take much more today, sheriff. Can’t it wait until tomorrow, at least?” There was no haughty demand in his voice now.
Sheriff Thibodeaux hesitated and then nodded. “Guess you’re right. He’s not a suspect now. I don’t want to put anymore strain on Mr. Henry.”
“Have you come back for good, Estelle?” Henry resisted any attempt by Toya and Darcy to lead him from the room.
“Mais, non.”
Henry leaned toward her. “There is no need to hide now. Even after everything, I can forgive you.”
“My life is not here. It is enough that I saw my grandchildren; fine young people. You’ve done well by them, Henry.” Estelle smiled at Toya and Darcy, who could only stare back with empty expressions.
“Incredible,” Deputy Zeringue said out loud, echoing what everyone must have been feeling.
Estelle opened her purse. “Look, the one good thing that came from my marriages. See my fine sons, my other grandchildren? Je m’en va a la maison (I’m going home).”
*
“Simon, that was the most terrible story I’ve ever heard,” Rae said.
“Beats any Greek tragedy, that’s for sure.”
The couple sat outside in Rae’s backyard on a new cypress swing she’d bought. The late afternoon sunlight played across them, dappled by the leaves on the large maple above their heads.
“How did you figure out Estelle was alive and where to find her?” Simon asked.
“No bones. If they were caught in the woods and murdered, why weren’t there two skeletons? Why would the murderer risk discovery by moving one body from such a perfect burial spot? If one skeleton was so well preserved then another one nearby shouldn’t have been missing. The answer had to be that Estelle escaped.”
“Good point. But how did LaMar trace her? He tried and couldn’t find one good clue.”
“He concentrated on looking for Pawpaw Vincent, thinking he could find him easier by trying to find out where he’d worked. I remembered that Estelle and a man had been spotted in New Orleans. Estelle’s reputation for collecting men made me think. I told LaMar to find out about the male passengers on that ship and track them down. One led us back to Trinidad eventually. Old marriage and birth records helped us narrow the search to that island.”
“Good detective work, babe.” Simon nuzzled her neck.
Rae shivered, still feeling the chill of a deadly past that reached into the present with icy fingers. Simon pulled her close to him.“Fifty years of treachery and lies to cover murder; all in the name of love.” Rae sighed.
“Yes, but it’s over. It’s long past time for us to move on,” Simon answered. He brushed her hair with his long fingers.
“Can we put it behind us? All that malice was like a poison plant with deep roots.” Rae pressed against him, seeking the comfort of his solid body.
“We will. Together, we can do it.” Simon kissed her, his tongue gently stroking the inside of her mouth. “Yes?” he whispered as his hands caressed her face.
Rae felt the warmth of his touch melt away the cold as desire spiked through her. There was the soft light of love in his eyes. A love for her alone. “Yes. Together.”
Without speaking, Simon led her inside the house and into the beginning of a new life.
About the Author
Mix knowledge of voodoo, Louisiana politics and forensic social work with the dedication to write fiction while working each day as a clinical social worker, and you get a snapshot of author Lynn Emery. Lynn has been a contributing consultant to the magazine Today’s Black Woman for three articles about contemporary relationships between black men and women. For more information visit:
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