by Robin Caroll
The emotions on her face changed in that split second.
“Do you know, Dimitri, that during my assault, when that. . . that. . . that pig was hurting me, I cried out to God to make him stop. I begged God to intervene, but guess what? He was silent. I’d been taught that God would never leave me, but he did. That night in Brayden/Kevin’s car, God left me alone.”
He reached for her hand, but she pulled it back. “He didn’t leave you alone, mon chaton. He would never leave you.”
She stood, and he stood as well. “But He did, Dimitri. I was there. You weren’t. It was just me and Brayden. Kevin. Whatever. It was just us two. No one came to save me. No one intervened. Not a person, and not God, who could have. He chose not to.”
“You can’t believe that. God—”
She held up her hand. “No, I’m not going to discuss this any further, Dimitri. I respect your faith and I’m glad you have it, but me? I know where God and I stand. Just drop it, okay?”
One look at her face and Dimitri knew he couldn’t push any further. “Okay.” He eased back down to sit on the edge of the desk.
She sat back down at her desk. “Thank you.”
Dimitri needed to say what he’d realized, because she might not have thought of it. “Adelaide, you realize what you’ve told me opens a door you might not want to go through, but you should probably prepare for.”
“What?”
“Because of your past, um, association with Kevin Muller, you will be a suspect in his murder.”
Beau
“Just to be thorough, fast-forward it one more time to when you three entered, and then until the uniformed officers showed up.” Beau needed to make sure that no one entered or snuck out after the door was opened. He tapped his pen against his notebook as Geoff did as requested.
Poor Addy, she’d had a rough day, all right. He glanced at his watch: 5:30 p.m. He hoped she was eating something in her office. She’d never been one to take the best care of herself when things were crazy. Her dad stayed on her all the time about it.
Speaking of Vincent, he was more than a little surprised his phone hadn’t rung off his hip with— “Wait. Let it play now.”
The video showed the three going in, just as before. Beau verified his notes of the time stamp: 3:18. On the video, at 3:38, Addy exited with Dimitri Pampalon on her heels. She wobbled a little as she marched down the hall and punched the button on the elevator.
The meshing of the multiple camera feeds cut to a different angle, so Beau could see all the way down the hall to the room, but also could see both of their faces. Both were drawn. Pampalon put his hand on Addy’s shoulder. She jumped and turned to face him, her back to the camera.
Beau leaned a little closer to the monitor. What was this?
Addy and Pampalon spoke to one another. By Addy’s gestures, it seemed as if she was agitated. Then Pampalon pulled her to him into a hug, closed his eyes, and kissed the top of her head.
Beau’s breath stuck in his lungs for a moment before rushing out.
The two separated and stepped onto the elevator. The video showed the hall. Some people moved in other rooms, but no one near 219.
Time stamp at 3:53 p.m., Geoff filled the video screen as he led the two uniformed officers to the room. At 4:10, the CSU team showed up, and at 4:18, Beau entered.
The door to the security room opened and a uniformed officer stood in the doorway. “Sir, we’ve found something in the alley behind the hotel we think you’ll want to see.”
“Thanks, Geoff.” Beau stood and followed his officer. “What did you find?”
“We think it might be the murder weapon, sir.”
This would be excellent if so. “Where?”
“Dumpster in the alley behind the hotel. It was in with all the rotting produce, sir.” He led the way outside.
The early evening breeze danced through the Quarter, causing the familiar wind-tunnel effect. The sun would set soon and the temps would drop over the city. The city burst with tourists and visitors, all ready for tomorrow’s Twelfth Night festivities. There’d be more thefts, more assaults, and more murders to come across his desk. If he could wrap this murder up quickly . . .
“Here, sir.” Another uniformed officer, properly gloved, held the knife with his fingertips. It was a brown-handled serrated knife, with approximately a four- to five-inch blade. There was a substance that looked like blood on the blade, but hard to tell with wilted lettuce stuck to it.
“Don’t remove anything. You could destroy critical evidence.” Beau reached for his phone and called the CSU team, requesting they come into the alley as soon as they could. While he waited, he inspected the Dumpster without touching it.
It was just like all the others in downtown—smelly and green and almost full. The lid had been propped open, explaining the stench barreling down the alleyway. Beau turned and drew in clean air from the opposite direction.
“Yes, sir?” The CSU team stood at the ready.
“All done in the room?” Beau asked.
Nolan nodded. “Body was removed and we gathered the last pieces of what might hold any evidence. Ready to get it back to the lab and start processing.”
Beau waved over the uniformed officer holding the knife. “Possible murder weapon.”
“Nice,” Nolan whispered under his breath as he pulled out an evidence tag. “By the looks of it, I’m guessing it was found in the Dumpster?”
“Yep.”
Erik snapped photos of the Dumpster, the alley, even the cars parked in the back lot. Beau knew he could count on this team.
“All done. We’ll get started as soon as we get back to the unit.”
“Thanks. Hey, one more thing, please.” Beau led the way into the courtyard. He stopped below the balcony of room 219. “Could you please check that pole for prints?”
Robert nodded. “I dusted the rails up there and the top of the pole—didn’t find anything, but maybe we’ll have better luck here.” He pulled out his kit and got to work.
Beau stared up at the balcony.
“You think that was the point of entry?” Nolan asked.
“Maybe. It was the only door unlocked, and we saw who went in and out through the hall.” Coming down the pole wouldn’t have been a problem for the murderer, but climbing up?
“Seems a complicated way to get in.”
Beau nodded. “It sure does.” But how else would the murderer have gained entry? He headed toward his vehicle, lifting the yellow crime scene tape.
“Detective, can you comment on the murder at the Darkwater Inn?”
He turned to face the four or five reporters with cameras and microphones. “No comment.”
“Can you release the name of the victim?”
“What was found in the Dumpster?”
Vultures, all of them. He ignored them and made his way to the car. He took a moment to call Geoff Aubois and mention the reporters. The hotel would probably need to beef up security to stop the leeches and seekers.
As Beau drove back to the station, he mulled over details of the case. The security footage was clear, the only person who entered and exited close to the estimated time of death was Sidney Parsons. Was she a killer?
Good thing he knew exactly where she was at the moment, and he was about to get some answers from her.
One way or another.
Ten
Adelaide
He deserved to be dead.
That’s what Adelaide kept mentally repeating as she read the file Geoff had brought her on Kevin Muller. He wasn’t really a person, not with what he’d done to her. Yet there were these pesky facts she had to face.
Kevin Muller had been thirty-three years old, lived in Natchitoches, Louisiana, and was a pharmaceutical sales rep for Arg’s Drugs. He had been married for four years, and his wife was expecting their first child.
And that was the part that made him most human.
Adelaide’s eyes burned. She didn’t want to see him as a h
uman. Not as a husband or father. He was scum. An attacker. A rapist.
She slammed the folder shut just as Geoff knocked on her doorframe. She waved him inside. “Please, no more bad news.”
He sat in the chair in front of her desk. “No, nothing new. I did put in a call to a friend of mine in the police department and asked him to give me a heads-up if he heard anything.”
“Good thinking. I don’t think I could take anything more today.” She let out a long breath.
“Have you heard anything from your friend about the case?” Geoff crossed his ankles as he spread his long legs out in front of him.
“My friend?”
“Detective Beauregard Savoie.”
Her face heated.
Geoff snapped his fingers and sat up straight in the chair. “Ah, see, I knew you two knew each other more than y’all were letting on.”
She leaned back in her chair and tried to stop the little smile. “Beau and I have known each other since we were children. He lives close to where my father does.”
“Mmmm-hmmm.” If Geoff was even trying to hide his smile, he was failing miserably.
His grin was contagious, and the corners of her lips turned up of their own accord. “Stop. We’re just friends. He’s actually a friend of our family. He spends a lot of time with my dad.”
“If you say so, but I think it’s nice.”
“Really? How so?” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“Don’t go getting all defensive, Adelaide.” Geoff’s smile could disarm just about anyone. Add in his Southern charm, and most women would be done for. “I’m just saying that you work hard. You always have.”
“That’s not a bad thing.”
“No, it isn’t, necessarily. But you also need to have a life. You came here straight from college. I’ve never seen you go out with anyone more than once, and you’re an attractive woman.” He held up his hand. “Don’t get me wrong, you remind me a lot of my little sister, so I notice. And I care.”
She uncrossed her arms and let the tension roll from her shoulders. “I’m not sure I knew you had a little sister.” She leaned forward and propped her elbows on her desk. “Tell me about her.” Anything to distract her from the file on her desk.
“Jada was energy in life form. Vivid. An artist. Full of ideas and laughter. Yet she could also be caught up in herself, even to the point of missing a class or two. She was beautiful, honest, and had the biggest heart.”
Adelaide straightened as her chest tightened. “Was?”
With tears in his eyes, Geoff nodded. “She passed away a few years ago.”
“I’m so sorry, Geoff.” She couldn’t imagine having a sibling who died. She’d wanted a sibling all her life. To have one, then have them die . . . what kind of God would allow that?
The same one who would leave a girl alone in a car on a dark night with a man whose evil heart was void of humanity. Even if he did find someone to trick into marrying him and carrying his child.
“It’s okay.” Geoff’s soft words pierced her thoughts.
“It’s a tragedy to lose someone we love.” A brief image of her mother near the end of her life flashed through Adelaide’s mind. “Even if it’s not a surprise, the grief can still be overpowering.”
“Very true. It’s harder still when they take their own life.”
Oh, gracious! “Geoff, I am truly so sorry.” Mere words didn’t seem like enough.
He shrugged. “I don’t know why she didn’t come to me with her issues. I would’ve helped her. I would have handled everything. I’m her big brother.” His eyes shone with tears, breaking Adelaide’s heart. “It was my job to protect her and I failed.”
She moved around her desk and sat in the chair beside him, then leaned over and gave him a hug. “I’m sure you didn’t fail her.”
“I wasn’t there when she needed help the most.”
Still at a loss for anything to say that could bring him comfort, she just hugged him tighter.
A quick knock sounded on her door, then Dimitri barged in with a tray. He froze as his gaze locked onto Adelaide and Geoff.
Adelaide stood and dabbed her eyes. “Yes?”
“I thought you might be hungry.” Dimitri still stood rooted to the spot in her office, holding the tray.
“That’s thoughtful. Thank you.” She went to the little settee in the nook of the office and cleared off the table. “I think the tray will fit here.”
As Dimitri set down the tray, Geoff stood, having composed himself. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything back from your friend.” He winked, then headed to the door.
Adelaide smiled back. “Thank you, Geoff.”
The door shut behind him, and she turned to Dimitri.
“I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.” His voice cracked.
“You didn’t.” She ignored the questions in his eyes and sat on the little loveseat. “It smells wonderful.”
Dimitri lifted the plate cover. “Nothing too elaborate tonight. Just regular gumbo and brioche.”
“Well, it was very thoughtful, and I appreciate it very much.” She motioned to the seat beside her. “Please, join me.”
“I’ve already eaten.”
“Then sit with me?” She lifted the spoon to her mouth as he sat beside her. Spicy warmth tingled her taste buds. “Oh, my, Dimitri, this is wonderful.”
“Thank you. I thought you might like something familiar and comforting.”
“It’s perfect.” She broke off some of the bread and dipped it into the steaming bowl.
“How are you doing?” Dimitri’s eyes were filled with concern. It warmed her as much as the gumbo.
“I’m going to be okay.”
“Have you decided what to do with the information of knowing Kevin Muller?”
She swallowed, the spices tasting a little flatter than a moment before. “I’m not going to say anything just yet.”
“Adelaide. You know how that will look when the police find out later.”
“They might not find out.” She set down her spoon and lifted a finger as he opened his mouth. “Hear me out for a minute.” She swiped a napkin over her lips, then took a sip of the bottled water from the tray.
She’d thought about this as she had reviewed Kevin Muller’s file. “The police took samples of everything—they still haven’t cleared the room. They fingerprinted everything, took the sheets and goodness knows what else, so if there is any physical evidence of the killer, they recovered it, right?”
“I suppose.”
“Well, I know for a fact I didn’t kill him.” Maybe she would have, if given the chance? She couldn’t go down that rabbit hole at the moment. “So I know none of the evidence will point to me, but it will point to the killer.”
She took another sip of water. The coolness dulled the tightening of her throat. “Why would I tell the police and give them what they would have to follow up as a suspect, which we know would be a waste of their time and resources?”
“Because when they find out and you didn’t tell them, it’ll look suspicious, even if you are innocent.” Something about his tone . . .
“Dimitri, you know I had nothing to do with his murder, right? Surely you can’t think I was involved in any way.” Her pulse pounded in her head.
“Of course I don’t think that. I’m just saying how it’ll look. To the police.”
“I don’t think it will come to that. I think the police will get a lead from the evidence found here at the hotel, which will put them on the trail of the killer. I have confidence the police will arrest someone within a week.” Which she desperately needed to happen before Mr. Pampalon returned and fired her.
Dimitri didn’t look convinced.
She set the tray over the barely touched bowl of gumbo. “Look, I know it’s asking a lot, but if you could just not say anything about my past. My . . . connection to Kevin Muller, I’d really appreciate it. At least for right now.”
She hated how her voice s
ounded whiny and begging, but she was doing just that, and it couldn’t be helped. “I don’t want what happened to me to be a topic of conversation. I never did, which is why I never went to the police.” She swallowed. “Please, Dimitri.” She took his hand and held it tightly.
“Of course, I won’t say anything.”
Adelaide felt like she could breathe again. “Thank you.” She leaned into him and gave him a hug.
His warmth seeped from him and into her. She relaxed against him. Just for a minute, she’d let herself feel what could never be.
He pulled back from her, but only a few inches. His gaze locked on hers. His breath, a whisper against her skin. “Mon chaton.”
Buzz!
They both jumped, then she gave a little giggle before heading to her desk. Her heart raced, pounding against her chest.
She lifted the in-house phone receiver to her ear. “Adelaide Fountaine.”
“It’s Geoff. I heard from my friend at the station. It’s not great news.”
Beau
The warmth of the police department’s interrogation room was deliberate. Not exactly hot to make the phrase sweating the witness legitimate, but it was rather close in comparison to the cool January evening. Marcel had given her a bottle of room temperature water, enough to keep her hydrated so her lawyer couldn’t complain but
not enough to be refreshment.
“Now that your attorney is present and accounted for, I’ll ask again. Ms. Parsons, what was the nature of your relationship with Kevin Muller?” Beau had waited long enough, flipped his notebook to a new page.
By the time he’d gotten to the station, the lawyer Arg’s Drugs had called in had already had time to speak to Sidney Parsons alone. Now was the time for getting some answers. Marcel hovered in the corner like a massive shadow. Not enough to cause an intimidation complaint, but enough to be persuasive to tell the truth.
She glanced at the attorney sitting beside her, who nodded. Sidney took a breath. “We were coworkers, friends.” She paused. “Then a couple of months ago, we began having an affair.”