Wiped Out

by Barbara Colley

  Relief tinged with a bit of sadness washed through Charlotte. “I’m going to miss them too. They’re both great kids.” She paused a moment. “But, Marian, are you sure about this? What about your home? I know how much time and effort you and your husband put into this house. And I never would have believed you would leave New Orleans.”

  “I do love New Orleans,” she admitted. “But renovating this house and living in the Garden District was really Bill’s idea; his dream, not mine. If he were still alive, things would be different. But he’s not, and I’ve thought about this for some time now. Moving will be a fresh start for all of us. I thought I could stick it out here, and I’ve tried, for almost a year now, but—” She shook her head. “Too many bad memories…” Her voice trailed away.

  Charlotte could see the pain of the past reflected in Marian’s eyes. She truly sympathized with the younger woman, especially after all she’d been through: the horrible secret she’d had to live with for years, her battle with alcoholism, and the loss of her husband. And she respected Marian for the progress she’d made getting her life back together. “So—when are you planning on making the move?”

  Marian blinked several times, then smiled. “That’s the best part of all. I already have a buyer for my house lined up, so I won’t even have to put it on the market. I’ve also gone to contract on a house in Mandeville. I’ve got movers scheduled for next week. School starts August sixteenth, so that should give me a week to get settled in the new house before the boys start back to school. I figure the movers should be done packing up by Tuesday; then I’d like you to come in and clean up on Wednesday after everything is out. I know it’s not much notice, and I’m really sorry about that, but,” she shrugged, “things just seemed to fall into place overnight.”

  Still a little dazed by Marian’s announcement, Charlotte rushed to load her cleaning supplies into the back of her van. The sky had grown overcast, and thunder rumbled in the distance.

  Charlotte was happy for Marian and her two sons. She truly was. And deep in her bones she felt the move would be good for B.J. and Aaron, especially B.J., after the harrowing experience the teenager had had back in October.

  October. Charlotte shivered. At times even she still had nightmares about the sordid mess, and she was a grown woman. It wasn’t every day that she stumbled across a dead body, and she couldn’t begin to imagine what kind of long-term effect something like that would have on a fifteen-year-old boy.

  Charlotte shook her head. Don’t think about it. Think positive. The positive had been the end results. Marian had finally climbed out of the alcoholic stupor she’d been in since the death of her husband and had gotten her life back on the right track.

  Charlotte hefted the vacuum cleaner into the van. Telling herself not to think about the frightening experience and then actually not thinking about it was almost impossible, just as not thinking about Mary Lou Adams all day had been impossible.

  Mimi Adams…undetermined cause of death.

  Charlotte shivered again. How had Mimi died? Had she been murdered? Maybe she’d ask Hank to check into it after all.

  Charlotte slammed the back door of the van. For now, though, she needed to think about how the loss of Marian as a client was going to affect Maid-for-a-Day. Losing a client meant a loss of income for her and for her cleaning service, and with the possibility of losing the Adams family as well…

  Charlotte climbed into the driver’s seat just as a streak of lightning lit the sky. “Just in time,” she murmured, as she glared at the fat raindrops splashing on her windshield.

  Charlotte switched on the ignition, turned on the headlights and the windshield wipers, then checked in the mirrors for oncoming traffic. She was probably worrying for no reason. She and Maid-for-a-Day had a good reputation, and she’d never had a problem getting clients. All she had to do was let it be known that she had an opening. For that matter, all she had to do was tell Bitsy Duhe. Bitsy, bless her gossip-loving heart, was better than taking out a classified ad any day…and cheaper.

  “Maid-for-a-Day will survive,” she muttered, as she pulled out into the street, “and so will you.”

  By the time Charlotte parked beneath the carport of her house, it was pouring rain. On days like this she was thankful that several years back she’d been able to add the carport and storage room onto the side of her half of the double and could get from the van to the house without getting soaked.

  The moment she entered the kitchen, her parakeet began to chatter. “Missed you, missed you.”

  Leaving her purse and lunch bag in the kitchen, she walked into the living room. Near the window, her little bird launched into his regular routine of chirping and fluttering his wings as he pranced back and forth along his perch in the cage, all designed to get her attention.

  “Hey, Sweety Boy. I missed you too,” she told the little green bird. “You’re such a good little bird.” Near the front door, she slipped out of her shoes and stepped into the soft suede moccasins she used as house shoes.

  Out of habit she glanced at her answering machine. Sure enough, the light was blinking, indicating that she had a message. Ignoring Sweety Boy’s acrobatic antics, she walked to the desk and pressed the PLAY button.

  The machine beeped, and a mechanical voice announced that one message had been received at two forty-five P.M. The machine beeped again.

  “Charlotte, this is June Bryant.” June’s voice was flat, without inflection. “I guess by now you’ve heard about poor Mimi. Please call me as soon as possible at—”

  Charlotte grabbed a pen and jotted down the number. As soon as the machine beeped and the mechanical voice said, “End of message,” she tapped out June’s phone number. The call was answered on the fourth ring by a deep male voice whom she didn’t recognize.

  “Hi, this is Charlotte LaRue,” she said. “I’m returning June Bryant’s call.”

  “Just a second,” the voice told her, and though muffled, Charlotte heard him call out, “June, phone call. Someone named Charlotte LaRue.”

  A moment later Charlotte heard the click of an extension being picked up. “Charlotte?”

  “Yes, hi, June. I got your message. I’m so sorry about Mimi. I know that you two were really good friends.”

  June sniffed, and with a slight catch in her voice, she whispered, “Thank you.” A moment passed, she cleared her throat, and then she said, “I-I can hardly believe it.” She sniffed again.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” Charlotte asked.

  “Why, yes—yes there is. Gordon asked me to make some calls for him and you were on the list. Now, more than ever, he’s going to need someone to come in, someone to keep the place clean, and he was hoping that you’d still be willing to work for him. Same hours, same days.”

  Charlotte hesitated before answering. One other time, early in her career as a maid, she’d had a man for a client. She was a lot younger then, and she learned a hard lesson. The arrangement lasted only a month before she decided that fighting off the man’s amorous advances wasn’t worth what he was paying her. But that was then, and she wasn’t young and naive any longer. Besides, she figured that the last thing on Gordon Adams’s mind would be fooling around with a woman who was probably almost old enough to be his mother.

  “Tell Mr. Adams that I’d be happy to keep working for him.”

  “Oh, good,” June said. “I’m sure he’ll be very relieved—just one less problem to worry about right now. And, Charlotte, one more thing. We were wondering if you might, by chance, be able to come in tomorrow as well as on Friday. Just this week,” she hastened to add. “The police have been crawling all over the place, and it’s a mess. One of the detectives has assured Gordon that they will be finished before tomorrow, though. Justin and Emma will be coming home, and what with people dropping by and all, he wanted the place to look decent.”

  “Tomorrow won’t be a problem,” Charlotte told her.

  June’s sigh of relief whispered through the pho
ne line. “That’s great,” she said. “I’ll meet you there in the morning at nine and give you a house key.”

  Charlotte could tell from June’s tone that she was ready to end the conversation, and though she hesitated, she just couldn’t let her, not without knowing exactly what had happened to Mimi. “Ah, June, could I ask you something?”

  “Sure,” June answered.

  “What happened? The newspaper said Mimi had died of undetermined causes. Just what does that mean?”

  “Oh, Charlotte, it was just awful. I knew that Mimi wasn’t feeling well during the meeting, and I knew that, more than likely, Gordon was working late, so I called around seven that evening to check on her. She-she sounded just terrible,” June said tearfully. “If-if only I’d done something then, she might still be alive.” Several moments passed before she could talk again. “Gordon didn’t get home until really late,” she continued. “When he went to bed he noticed something wasn’t quite right about her breathing. When he tried to wake her and couldn’t, he panicked and called 911. They rushed her to the hospital, but by then she was already in a coma. She-she never d-did regain consciousness, and-and she died Tuesday morning, just before noon.”

  June began to cry softly. “The ER doctor suspected that she’d been poisoned. She d-died of-of poisoning,” she sobbed.

  “Poisoning!” Charlotte repeated in shocked disbelief. “As in food poisoning, like salmonella or botulism?”

  “Yes, p-poisoning, of all things. But they’re not sure what kind. She-she could have been poisoned on purpose. And now poor Gordon can’t even have her funeral until the coroner does an autopsy.” She paused again, then, with a deep sigh, said, “I almost forgot. The police wanted a list of everyone who was at the HHS meeting on Monday, so I gave them one.” She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry—I hate to tell you this—but I had to give them your name too. So don’t be surprised if you get questioned. Like I said, I’m sorry.”

  “No need to apologize. I would have been surprised if they hadn’t wanted to talk to me.” No sooner were the words out of her mouth than Charlotte heard a sharp rap on her front door.

  “Ah, June, there’s someone at the door. I have to go now, but I’ll see you in the morning. Nine o’clock.”

  “Yes, of course. See you tomorrow.”

  Charlotte hung up the phone and walked over to the window. Pulling the curtain back, she peeked out, her gaze scanning the driveway. Even with the pouring rain, she could tell that the car parked there was one she didn’t recognize.

  Another sharp rap sounded at the door, and she sighed. “Okay, okay,” she muttered. “Just keep your shirt on.” She went to the door. “Yes,” she called out, “who is it?”

  “It’s Judith, Aunt Charley.”

  Charlotte frowned. Had her niece bought a new car? No one in the family had mentioned it. “Just a second, hon.” She unlocked the dead bolt and opened the door. “You didn’t tell me that you bought…” Charlotte’s voice trailed away. Standing beside her niece was a man whom she had never seen before. “A new car,” she finished her sentence.

  Judith flashed her a smile. “I didn’t. The car belongs to Brian.” She motioned toward the man. “Auntie, this is Brian Lee. Brian is my new partner.”

  Charlotte nodded at the younger man. She knew for a fact that Brian Lee wasn’t exactly “new.” According to Madeline, Brian had been Judith’s partner for at least three months or so, and also according to Madeline, he was a handsome devil.

  Madeline had been right about him being handsome, Charlotte decided. But then Madeline was a huge Tom Cruise fan, and Brian Lee could win hands down in a Tom Cruise look-alike contest.

  Madeline had been right about the devil part as well, Charlotte suspected. It was Brian’s eyes, she decided, jade in color and jaded by life—old, world-weary eyes that belied his age. And there was only one reason why Judith would show up with him now.

  Charlotte tilted her head to look directly up at him. “I would say it’s nice to meet you, Brian,” she said matter-of-factly, “but I’ve got a feeling that this isn’t a social call.”

  Chapter 7

  “No, ma’am, this isn’t a social call,” Brian Lee said. “This is official police business. Can we come in? We’d like to ask you some questions.”

  Charlotte nodded. “Just leave the umbrellas on the porch and wipe your feet.” She pointed at the welcome mat outside the door.

  Once Brian and Judith had obediently propped their dripping umbrellas against the wall of the porch and wiped their feet on the rug, Charlotte motioned for them to come inside. “Can I get you something to drink?” she offered, as she closed the door behind them. “Coffee or iced tea?”

  “Nothing for me,” Brian said.

  Judith shook her head. “Me neither, Auntie,” she said, as she seated herself on the sofa.

  Brian sat down beside Judith, so Charlotte chose the chair opposite the sofa.

  Brian leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs. “We understand that you worked for Mary Lou Adams on Monday.”

  Charlotte nodded.

  “What time did you leave?”

  “My hours are from nine to three-thirty, but I stayed until around four-thirty on Monday because of the HHS meeting.”

  “Tell us about the meeting.”

  Charlotte shrugged. “Like what?”

  “Like, for instance, the food and drinks. Who provided it, what was served, and who served it?”

  “Fudge brownies, wine, and coffee,” Charlotte told him. “Different members provided different items, and I served it all. But if you’re thinking that the poison was in any of those things, then everyone there would have been sick.”

  Brian narrowed his eyes. “No one has said anything about poison. Why would you think Mrs. Adams was poisoned?”

  His tone was insolent with a suspicious edge, and Charlotte saw red. Two could play that game. “Because that’s what I was told,” she retorted, her tone just as insolent as his had been. She glared at him. “For your information, young man, I just got off the phone with June Bryant, and she told me that she had already been questioned and that you all suspected that Mimi had been poisoned.”

  Judith held up both hands, palms out. “Whoa—hey, just take it easy, Auntie. No one here is accusing you of anything. There was no way for us to know that you had talked with Mrs. Bryant.” She dropped her hands back into her lap, then twisted around to another position.

  The nervous fidgets. Any time Judith began fidgeting was a sure sign that she was nervous.

  “And speaking of Mrs. Bryant,” Judith continued, “according to her there was a bit of conflict going on in the group. What can you tell us about that?”

  “Was she poisoned or not?” Charlotte asked, ignoring Judith’s question.

  “Yes, she was, Auntie, but we’re still not sure if it was an accident or on purpose. Now, what can you tell us about the conflict going on at the HHS meeting?”

  “What did June tell you?”

  Brian spoke up. “We’d rather hear your version, ma’am.”

  “Well, there’s not much to tell. Like I said, I was serving, so I wasn’t privy to everything that was said.”

  “Please, ma’am, just tell us what you do know.”

  Charlotte heaved an impatient sigh. “There was some disagreement over which charity would benefit from the HHS fall plant sale. But that kind of thing happens in any organization,” she hastened to add and then shrugged. “Mimi’s side lost. But that’s certainly not enough motive for anyone to kill her.”

  Several silent seconds ticked by, and when Charlotte didn’t offer any further information, Judith groaned. “I told you to let me do the questioning,” she told Brian. After a tense moment between Judith and her partner, Brian finally nodded his concession. Judith nodded back, then faced Charlotte. “Did you notice anything unusual about Mrs. Adams, Auntie? Did she seem ill or anything while you were there?”

  “She did complain about having a headache a
nd being thirsty. And later, once everyone had left, she went straight to bed.”

  Judith pursed her lips, then said, “Do you remember about what time she began complaining about the headache?”

  Charlotte shrugged. “Maybe…Hmm, let me see now. The meeting started around two, and she began complaining about a headache during the refreshment break. I’d say that was probably around a quarter of three or so.”

  Judith nodded. “Good. That’s exactly what we needed to know. Now, Auntie, earlier you said there was some contention in the group, a disagreement. Do you know the names of the women who disagreed with Mrs. Adams’s side?”

  When Charlotte didn’t answer immediately, Judith released an exasperated sigh. “Aunt Charlotte, please. I know all about your confidentiality, no-gossip policy, or whatever you call it, but this is important. If you know their names…”

  Charlotte glared at her niece for a moment. One of her cardinal rules was never to discuss her clients with anyone. She had three women who worked for her full time and one part-time employee, and each had been apprised of Charlotte’s rule when they had hired on. Any infraction was grounds for immediate dismissal.

  “Aunt Charlotte! Please.”

  “Oh, okay.” She rattled off the names. “Rita Landers, Karen Douglas, and Doreen Mires. There, are you satisfied?”

  “Not quite yet,” Brian interjected. “How long have you worked for the Adams family?”

  “Monday was the third time I had cleaned for them,” Charlotte answered.

  “In that time, did you know of or get the feeling that anyone else had a grudge against Mrs. Adams?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “What do you mean by ‘exactly’?” Judith asked.