A glance at Emma’s face almost undid Finn. Her lips were parted, her brows pushed down in a confused frown. “That door was closed,” she said. “Until it was open. And if there’d been a shot, I’d have heard it. Those people need something to do.”
“Miz Forestier has organized a party to search for the rifle,” Billy said in a monotone. “They’ll bring it here at once when they find it.”
Emma snickered, and Finn grinned.
“Thank Mrs. Forestier for me,” Billy told Sampson. “And tell her we’ve got an official crime site there, so she won’t be able to get close. You might also mention there’s a killer on the loose, and we don’t know when or where he might pop up.”
“She said she’d like a word before she leaves.”
Billy rolled his eyes. “Tell her the commissioner’s in here and wants my ass for not solving the case on my own. Deal with it.”
Sampson scurried away, and Finn tried to remember what it felt like to be that young.
“We’ll get the pair of you out the back way,” Billy said. “I’ll have an officer drive you home, Mrs. Lachance.”
“I’ll take her,” Finn said, and knew at once that he should have been a bit slower with his offer.
“I’d advise you to watch your back, Finn. There could be someone with a grudge against you. Hard to tell at this point. And Mrs. Lachance—I’m not relaxed about your safety. I’ll want to discuss that with Mayor Lachance.”
Emma nodded, and Finn admired her composure.
“Denise Steen wasn’t well liked in this town,” Billy said, almost to himself. “She wrote a lot of stuff that made people mad.”
“She was well liked,” Emma said. She slid to the front of her chair. “Denise said and wrote what she believed. And she didn’t suck up to people who think they’re important around here. They’re the ones who didn’t like her, because they were afraid of her. Regular folks thought she was great.”
“Unfortunately, she went after some of the slick bastards who didn’t want their dirty laundry aired,” Billy murmured. “Do you belong to that club?”
When Emma didn’t immediately answer, Finn stared at her. He’d only been back in town a couple of days, and the place looked the same, but he already knew a lot had changed around here.
“What club?” Emma said, giving Billy an in-your-face look.
Billy’s expression softened. “Calm down, Emma. You and I have known each other a long time, since way before you married our major mover and shaker. And you know what club I mean.”
“Yes, I do, and you already know it. There’s a little bunch of us, and we’re real close. And I don’t like the way you make Secrets sound like somethin’ grubby. That club? We’re just women supportin’ women.”
“And encouragin’ some to defy their husbands and boyfriends, from what I hear,” Billy said. “Assertiveness trainin’. Self-confidence. Learnin’ you can be whatever you want to be—if you want it bad enough.”
“That’s right,” Emma said. “We help each other, and learn that other people don’t have the right to put us down and make us miserable.” And now it was her turn to act on what she believed in.
“Denise was a member, wasn’t she?” Billy asked.
Emma felt herself getting trapped, although there should be no need. “Denise didn’t come often, but she did belong. She put some of our recipes and tips in one of the columns in the paper. And she published exercise routines that made us laugh—she did them with stick figures. She wrote about new makeup tips and affirmations. Instructions for mud baths with cayenne to make the skin glow. Slabs of cucumber over the eyes to make sure they stayed cool and the cayenne didn’t get in and burn. Soaking your feet in hot milk. Learning to say ‘no.’ All stuff she thought other women could benefit from.”
“That’s the way I thought it went,” Billy said. “Did it ever strike you that some men might not like their women getting ideas that changed them?”
Finn looked at Emma’s lips.
“That was always a possibility, but we are all about liftin’ each other up, nothing else. Nothing mean. Nothing intended to split couples up.” Even though she’d learned enough to know she couldn’t stay with Orville.
“A lot of men in town don’t believe that, particularly the ones with wives who aren’t as docile anymore,” Billie said.
Emma got to her feet. “Then we’re succeeding,” she said, and Finn heard confrontation in her tone. “The only men who would feel like that are the insecure kind who want to keep women down—usually by any means they can. A confident man is glad when a woman is his equal.”
Billy’s bright brown eyes crinkled at the corners. “Hold your horses, Emma. I know it’s all innocent fun, but I hope my Blanche doesn’t decide to join.”
Emma sat down again.
Finn chuckled, then snuffled to cover his amusement. He guessed Emma might consider him another chauvinist pig, and that wasn’t true.
The noise outside the room rose higher. Someone said, “Yessir,” loudly.
Finn watched Emma’s eyes open wide, noticed the way she gripped the arms of her chair.
The door flew open, and a blond, brown-eyed man, too pretty for Finn’s taste, strode into the room. He turned back, caught the edge of the door as if he would slam it, but controlled himself and shut it firmly instead. He still created enough of a breeze to start a pile of papers on Billy’s desk sliding. At first they slid just a little, then created a waterfall to the floor.
“Emma,” the man said, his face unnaturally expressionless. “What are you doin’ here, drawin’ all kinds of attention to yourself, darlin’? Can’t I leave you alone for a little while without you gettin’ into trouble?”
Before anyone else could speak, Emma said, “I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, Orville. These things happen.”
Orville pushed back his straw-colored linen suit jacket and put his hands on his hips. He lowered his head and approached Emma. “What were you doin’ in a deserted place like that old development? And findin’ a body? How the hell did that happen?” The man held himself in such rigid control, Finn could feel the tension like something he might reach out and touch.
Finn’s knuckles began to itch. The mayor had fifteen years on Emma, fourteen on Finn, and they showed. The once square jaw was turning a little slack, and deep lines flared from his eyes. There was a softness about Orville Lachance that suggested too much good living and not enough physical exercise.
“I asked you a question, darlin’,” Lachance said to Emma, leaning down into her face.
Billy caught Finn’s eye and shook his head slightly. Too bad. If Lachance put a hand on Emma, Finn would flatten the creep.
Before Lachance could do or say another thing, Emma all but hopped from her chair and took several steps backward. “It’s a shock,” she said to her husband. “I can’t explain what a shock it was. Billy here had to ask questions, but I think he’s about ready to let me go home.”
“I don’t recall the name of that place where the killin’ happened,” Orville said.
“The Willows,” Emma said. “That retirement estate they started building—”
“I know what it is. What I don’t know is why you were there, puttin’ yourself in danger. You’ve got a gym at the house that cost me a fortune. Use it.”
“I do. The fresh air is nice sometimes. You know I jog.”
“Use the gym,” Orville said. Lachance kept his voice soft, and anyone watching casually would think he was being solicitous of his younger wife. Finn sensed something else. Loathing? The notion seemed bizarre.
The man noticed Finn. “Who are you? What are you doing in here?”
“Finn Duhon,” Billy said. “Tom Duhon was his dad. Finn’s been away in the service.”
Grinding his back teeth, Finn offered the man his hand and got a glancing squeeze.
Orville snapped his fingers. “Eileen Moggeridge is your sister. Married to that no-good Chuck. Probably a good thing he’s gone on
the oil rigs so much. From what I hear, the boy—Aaron if I remember right—looks like he’s followin’ in his daddy’s footsteps. He’ll be takin’ up jail space in no time. He’d have had your daddy turnin’ in his grave.”
Finn squelched his temper. “You’ve got the names right, Lachance. The rest is hearsay.”
“And inappropriate, Orville,” Emma said, her face too bright.
Lachance shrugged. “Could be. Forgive me if I’ve offended you. Is it hearsay that the Rangers got too tough for you so you found a way to get out? You were an army ranger, right?”
Finn bit the inside of his cheek and tasted blood. Didn’t this mouthy fool sense he could be beaten to a pulp and Finn wouldn’t even break a sweat? “You’ve got to wean yourself off hearsay,” Finn said. “It could get you into some really nasty trouble.”
“I asked you why you’re here,” Orville said. “With my wife.”
“I was talking to Emma when the body…we saw the body in a portable latrine. Your wife’s been through a lot.”
Muscles worked in Orville’s jaws. He stood straight, and Finn took him to be around five-ten. “You were talking to Emma out at some deserted development? Am I hearin’ things?”
“Please, Orville, let me explain all this when we’re alone,” Emma said, swallowing acid. “Can we use the back door, please, Billy?”
“I’ve got more questions to ask,” Orville said, and to Billy, “You won’t need to talk to my wife again.”
“Yes,” Billy said, “I’m sure I will.”
Lachance turned a little red along his cheekbones. “Have you forgotten who I am?” He crossed his arms, and the anger faded from his manner. “Forgive me. When they came with a message and said it was about my wife, you can’t imagine all the thoughts that went through my head. I’ll hold a meetin’ at city hall tomorrow mornin’, Billy, just to reassure the folks.
“Now, who responded to the emergency call? I assume you or Duhon made one, Emma?”
Billy had already opened a door leading to an entryway on the other side of his office, and Emma walked through it. “I can answer any questions you’ve got, Orville. Thank you for taking care of me, Billy, Finn. I can come back in for more questioning any time. Come along, honey.”
She left, and Orville followed her slowly, obviously reluctant to go now.
Finn and Billy didn’t say anything for several minutes before Finn asked, “Is he likely to do her any harm?”
Billy scrubbed at his face and hair. “Damn, I wish I hadn’t given up drinkin’. Where are my mints?” He found the tin on his desk.
“Billy?” Finn said.
“He’s too smooth to do anything like that,” Billy closed the tin and threw it back on the desk. “He was wound tight tonight, is all.”
Finn wasn’t convinced.
3
Orville’s house. Emma always thought of it that way, because a prenuptial agreement had made it plain when they were married that she would get a significant allowance but nothing more unless she gave birth to Orville’s child.
Emma’s only pregnancy had ended in a miscarriage.
Orville paid the rent on the shop at Oakdale Mansion, too; she’d had to borrow the money to get started. He was listed as the owner of the business. Originally he’d said he would probably change things when they had been together a few years, but the subject had never been brought up again.
Emma’s dad had done his best to make her see that such an agreement flagged Orville’s lack of commitment to the marriage. Back then, though, she’d refused to listen to anyone who questioned his devotion to her.
The single-story Lachance house stood on a golf course owned by a small group of exceedingly wealthy men, of whom Orville was one. Emma watched the lights lining the driveway grow closer. Apart from running Poke Around, she hadn’t worked since her years in college. If she operated the shop alone, she might just get by, but with her allowance gone, she probably couldn’t make the rent and cover her living expenses. The idea of finding a way to support herself was daunting, but she could do it. She had promised to look after her parents’ house until they got back, and once she was alone, she planned to live there and find a job. When they returned, she hoped to move out again and go back to school.
Orville hadn’t said a word by the time he drove his Mercedes into the garage, beside his yellow Corvette, his boat and Emma’s Lexus SUV. She realized that during the trip from the police station, she’d been leaning away from her husband and holding her stomach so tight it hurt. He could come around and decide to be decent. While they’d been driving, the reality of what she had been through might have softened him.
“Hearin’ the news must have shocked you,” she said. She wanted out of this relationship with as little acrimony as possible. “I’m sorry about that. I feel nervous. It’s not likely, but what if the murderer decides to get rid of me, too, or just to frighten me half to death to make sure I don’t think too hard about anythin’ I saw?”
“You’ve got a lot to answer for,” Orville said. “The mayor’s wife doesn’t go runnin’ in deserted areas, wearin’ almost nothing, so she can meet up with some old boyfriend.”
Emma gasped. “Orville, you sound crazy.” Let him lose his temper. “I hardly remembered Finn. We never even dated. He left Pointe Judah a year before I did and went to school back East. It’s too bad you felt you had to insult him. He’s a decorated war hero and a successful businessman, too. If you keep on making stupid suggestions about him, you’ll look like a fool. He could also be a bad enemy during the campaign, I should think. People around here think Finn is special.”
Orville jerked sideways in his seat and raised a hand to hit her. He made a fist and lowered it slowly. He’d hit her before, but never where a bruise might show. Without a word, he slammed from the car.
For a second or two, Emma hesitated. Then she knew, absolutely for certain, that she would set a divorce action in motion as soon as she had a complete plan. Her husband treated her badly, and he frightened her. What reason did she have to stay? She’d loved him so much when they’d met, but he’d smothered all that.
She had already spoken to a lawyer over in Toussaint who had represented a member of Secrets. Emma liked him. Both of the lawyers in Pointe Judah were among Orville’s golfing buddies.
“Listen to you,” she said, getting out into the garage and walking past him on her way inside the house. “A friend of mine has been murdered. I had the rotten luck to find her body, and you’re ranting at me about your reputation. You’re screwed up—or worse.”
“You don’t respect me,” Orville said. “Look at all I’ve given you, but you treat it like nothing. If you’re not very careful, I’ll have to reevaluate this marriage.”
Please do that. Do it now. “If that’s what you want, I’ll have to understand. We could work something out so it didn’t become public until after the election—if that’s what you’d prefer.” She was careful to sound deeply sad.
Amazement silenced him long enough for Emma to walk quickly through a terra-cotta-tiled hallway to the foyer and take the two steps up into the open, all-beige living room she hated—even if the designer, according to Orville, had been the best in New Orleans. Going directly to a wall of glass, which in daylight overlooked the golf course, she stared at the illuminated turquoise waters of the pool outside. Palmettos in stone pots cast shadows like fistfuls of long knives on the surface.
Orville’s shoes hit the floor in quick succession. He was running toward her. She had no way to escape him. He grabbed the top of her arm hard enough to make her cry out. He swung her around, backed her away from the windows and shoved her against a wall. “That’s the first and the last time you ever speak to me like that. I tell you to jump, you jump. You were a dropout, and I picked you up and gave you a dream life. I bought you and treated you like a queen. I own you.”
“You insisted I drop out, but I don’t want to argue with you,” she said, aware that recessed shelves holding art glass st
ood beside her. “Push me again and you could have your precious glass all over the floor. Let me go, please—if you want to find a civilized way to work this out.”
Shaking her again, he brought his face close to hers. “I could have made you look like an idiot in front of Meche and your friend. I held back to save your feelings. Now I wish I hadn’t.”
“You held back because you don’t want anyone to know you abuse me,” she said, bracing for his reaction.
He took his hand from her arm but cuffed her across the back of the head. “Bitch,” he said.
Emma would not let him see her cry or show how he humiliated her. “Do you want to talk about this?” she said. “Or would you rather leave the house until you’ve calmed down?”
“Leave my own house? Hah, you always were a dreamer, I—”
“Either we talk or one of us has to get out of here.”
He opened his mouth, no doubt with another load of invective to spew at her, but he closed it again slowly and gave a slightly silly, one-sided smile. “You’re not yourself.”
“I’m as close to bein’ myself as anyone would be after the experience I’ve had,” Emma said. “All I can see in my mind is my friend dead and obscenely posed. You haven’t even said you’re sorry about what happened to her. And somethin’ else—we’re livin’ in a town with a murderer on the loose, a deranged person. He could be anywhere. Don’t you think you should already be out there makin’ sure the folks stay calm? The news will be all over town by now.”
“I don’t need you to tell me how to do my job,” Orville said and checked his watch. “Billy’s the one I’ll be talkin’ to. Less said to get the town on edge, the better. If necessary, I’ll say a few words in the mornin’, like I told Billy I would. And nothin’s gonna happen to you. Your problem is you only think about yourself.”
As far as Emma was concerned, the talking was over for tonight.
“Denise Steen was a bitch,” Orville said. He had regained his unruffled appearance. “I wouldn’t have wanted her to die, but she asked for it. She got people all riled up—givin’ women ideas that made trouble for their husbands and men in general.”
Body of Evidence Page 3