Knock Before You Enter
Page 21
“Or maybe something else transpired,” Addie said, coming to stand beside me.
“Grandma-ma?” Janine questioned. “What do you mean?”
“It’s become clear over the course of this week that Everard De’Laruse possessed a means after the war ended to purchase all the land in this area. The Bonafeld journal speaks of the Union’s capture of the French gold intended for the preservation of the Confederacy, and yet no record remains of what happened to it after it was brought and stored here at Heaven’s Gate.”
“And Bonafeld died here,” I continued Addie’s thought train. “Through a rather unusual circumstance.”
“Which could only mean the gold never left Heaven’s Gate,” Janine finished. “But we didn’t find anything down in the aqueduct. The clues led us to the big oak near the graveyard whose canopy shields the souls.”
“But there was once an enormous oak near the well house too, one your grandfather had chopped down and had the stump cut out long ago.”
“I remember that tree,” Charlotte said, coming to stand beside her mother. “I used to climb its gnarled branches as high as I could.”
“You climbed trees?” Janine’s brows rose toward the stratosphere.
Charlotte colored – so that’s where my bestie got it. “We were all young once, dawlin’, though it broke my heart when that old tree came crashing down.”
I stood in awe. Now it all made sense. “Brings life to whomever takes hold,” I recited. “The poem was talking about water. The two big trees, one shielding the souls and the other bringing life. Bonafeld must’ve hid the gold initially in the tunnel between the two trees. In brick form, it was too heavy for the rush of water to move it in the tunnel. Lucas said the water would enter the ducts until the well level got too low and it took time for the ground water to rise again. Bonafeld could’ve climbed down into the well with a little gold each time while the water level was down below the ducts.”
“But the gold wasn’t in there,” Janine reminded me. “We would’ve stumbled into it if it’d been between the two tree locations.”
“Because it was no longer there,” Addie said. “Everard had to have used the gold to buy the surrounding land.”
“So then what happened to Lieutenant Bonafeld?” Janine asked.
“He either fell and drowned, or…or…” I really didn’t want to be the one to finish my thought.
Addie did the honors. Or dishonor. Oh hell, I didn’t know how to classify this one ‘cause it was her family we were talking about.
“Or more likely Everard killed Bonafeld for the gold.”
Addie said it. I didn’t.
“Mother,” Charlotte gasped. “You can’t mean that.”
“It’s the one thing that makes all of this make sense,” Addie said.
Mr. Barthélémy interceded before a family squabble ensued. “We’ll be able to find out more once we get the bones to the lab. I’ll come see you personally, Miss Adelaide, before our findings are made public.”
“Thank you, Jerome. I’d appreciate it. Regardless of what the findings reveal, it’ll be better to face the bitter truths about the family ghosts than let rumor and gossip hold sway.”
“Here, here,” I said, raising my cup for another sip in acknowledgement of the rumor and gossip part. The ghosts she could keep to herself.
“Mr. Barthélémy!” a student by the wormy clothing yelled. “Look at this!”
“Huh,” I said in stunned surprise. “How’s that for a birthday present, Janine?”
The student stood up from the gathering and shoved a hand in the air. Sunlight reflected off of the surface of the gold bar.
And outlined the fleur-de-lis imprint.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Christmas came early to Heaven’s Gate. The ballroom sparkled with the soft glow of light strands, candles, and green garland covering every inch of the oak paneling. The upper crust of Louisiana society glittered in all their finery as they filled every inch of Heaven’s Gate.
But none stood out more than my bestie in her waterfall blue dress encrusted with crystals. Even with only one available arm, Lucas expertly swirled Janine across the dance floor through a waltz, the foxtrot, and a modified tango before his meds kicked in and she had to reluctantly change up partners.
Now George? He was relegated to keeping the tall Christmas tree in the corner company after a reprimand to be on his best behavior, ‘cause this night wasn’t about him – for once.
After the amazing finds the day before, Addie had extended an invitation to Mr. Barthélémy and his team of amateur archaeologists. ‘Course that meant the other members of the Historical Society had to be invited as well. The De’Laruse matriarch wasn’t about to play loose with favoritism with the family name on the line. She even took a step down from her perch to dance – er, shuffle – with Mr. Barthélémy in front of God and everyone.
Especially after he’d had to deliver the bad news to Addie. Sifting through the boneyard they’d found a bullet rattling around inside Lieutenant Bonafeld’s skull once they cleared it of dirt. Even though there was no way to know with one hundred percent assurance, by all appearances it was safe to say Everard De’Laruse – or someone in his employ – had shot Bonafeld and buried him in the well. Once word got out about the literal skeleton in the De’Laruse closet, it had the potential to bring the family down a notch in Louisiana society.
Then again, this was the south – and Bonafeld was a Yank – which meant the De’Laruse esteem might actually go up down here in these parts. At least it’d put to rest those collusion rumors.
Still, by the end of the war, Everard had all the gold available to buy up most of the North Shore.
Or all but one bar.
Even though the excavation would continue for some time, thus far they’d only discovered the one gold bar tucked in the remains of Bonafeld’s pants. Maybe he’d been in the middle of putting that one bar into the tunnel. Or to make the story for the locals even more exciting, perhaps he’d decided to take a little taste of it for himself.
Greed – it’ll get’cha every time.
Me? I was just thankful to be alive yet again. And to have my bestie by my side – well, except for tonight, since she spent most of it on the dance floor. Janine was the birthday girl, after all.
Maisie slipped through a side door with another cart loaded down with her delectable creations, so I snuck over to get first samples of lemon chiffon bars and peppermint tarts. They melted in my mouth. I offered up thanks to Spanx for the creation of undergarments to keep the girlie bits together. And to Chanel for spandex dresses.
“Delicious, Maisie, as usual.”
“Eat up, child. Ya need more meat on them bones.”
I cringed. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be thinking about bones for a while.” Or the men who want to jump mine.
“Oh, sorry ‘bout that, Miss Vicki. Must’a been traumatic bein’ stuck in that dark hole in the ground.”
Lines of fatigue were etched around her eyes – and I didn’t think it was merely from concern over what had happened to me and Janine.
“Hey, Maisie,” I said, grabbing her perpetually floured palm. “How’re you holding up?”
The sigh sounded as if it came all the way from her weary toes. “Truth be told, I was lookin’ forward t’ them two weeks off at Christmas. But with Sibby done fired and Maurice…”
I think we both shivered at that one.
“Yeah, I get it.”
“I just can’t leave Miss Adelaide alone in this great big house with only Pierre to look after her.”
Mr. Barthélémy returned Addie to her seat after their slow dance. A plan birthed in my non-bleached but battered brain.
“Maybe I can help with that, Maisie” I said, popping a chocolate truffle in my mouth. “Hold that thought.”
I grabbed another lemon bar and peppermint tart and loaded them on a plate before grabbing a cup of spiced tea then heading toward the birthday girl.
/> “Happy birthday, Addie,” I said, handing over the goodies.
“Thank you, Victoria dawlin’,” Addie said, accepting the steaming tea for a sip. “I’m feeling a little parched and peaked after traipsing across the dance floor.”
“I figured you might. Probably all the stress lately too.”
She tossed me a firm gaze. “Humph. Very likely.” She nibbled the lemon bar. “I don’t know how your parents handle all the scrapes you’ve gotten yourself into this year.”
“Mom worries. Dad less so. But a girl’s gotta live.”
And live, and live, and live, thank you very much.
“Don’t give up on your father, Victoria.”
So we were gonna circle around to that topic tonight like a dog chasing its tail. I could only sigh in response.
Addie took another sip. “Remember, most men are a little slow on the draw, unable to manage their emotions very well. They usually cover it up with humor. Or indifference. Sometimes anger.”
“You nailed Frankie with a bullseye.”
She pressed a gloved hand to my knee. “Don’t wait too long and be saddled with guilt from making the same mistakes I made.”
I couldn’t have begged for a better opening if I’d stood before God Himself. “Speaking of mistakes, I think there’s been another miscarriage of justice…with Sibby.”
Addie huffed. “I won’t have such a woman in my house.”
“She made a mistake when she was younger, but haven’t we all?”
“But she was a…a…”
I lowered my voice. “Yes, a prostitute. But wasn’t Mary Magdalene at one time?”
Addie’s height rose by two inches as her spine stiffened. “It’s not the same thing.”
“Isn’t it? What did Jesus say to the woman caught in adultery?”
I couldn’t believe I was the one quoting Bible stories to make my point. Gee, and my Sunday School teachers always accused me of never paying attention. If they could only see me now.
Or not. I tugged at the short hem of my dress barely hugging the tippy-tops of my heftier haunches.
“And what about Maisie’s Christmas vacation time?” I pressed.
Her posture remained rigid, but I knew I had her with her next words. “What about young George? If word gets out about the scandalous past of one of my employees, I’ll once again be on the rumor wheel.”
I took that claim of employee-ship as acquiescence to my marvelous machinations. “Most times we have little control about what other people say about us.” Didn’t I know it? “But don’t you worry about Georgie-Porgy-Puddin’-Pie. I’ll take care of that boy.”
A twinkle settled in her eye. “I’ve no doubt you’ll be most capable in that regard.” Her breath released like a deflating balloon. “Well then, I guess I’ll have Maisie call Sibby in the morning. But I’m warning you…if I have to, I’ll have Pierre administer a drug test on that girl every week.”
I leapt up and hugged the old De’Laruse matriarch. “Thank you, Addie. You’ve made my whole week.”
Tears sparkled like Janine’s dress under the spotlight as Thomas took my bestie’s hand for a father daughter dance. I glanced toward my dad and figured I might as well do what Addie asked of me and extend the first olive branch. It was her birthday, after all. And in this life, you only get one family.
“May I have this dance?”
The voice sent a trill up my spine like the touch of a lover. I forgot all about daddies and daughters as I spun around.
And stared up, up, up into familiar brown eyes.
“Zeke Taylor? What are you doing here?”
The tuxedo caressed him in all the right places, from broad shoulders, to firm pecs, to a narrow waist – and all that good stuff below. He took my hand and had to practically uproot my carcass to escort me to the dance floor.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me close enough to set off fire alarms. “But I was in the middle of something when I got your mother’s phone call and had to wrap up that business before I could make the plane.”
“The plane?” I asked before coming out of the dreamy daze his unexpected presence had momentarily cast me under. “A last minute flight had to have cost a pretty penny.”
“Not when flying Bohanan Express.”
Shock stiffened my back just like Addie. “Dad sent the jet for you?”
He spun me around, our movements flowing together like…like…
I might need that brain bleach again.
“I think your mom may have had a hand in it too.”
I snorted. “Leave it to Mom to try and play cupid.”
The dance was interrupted when Alphonse and Antoine arrived, carrying a special birthday surprise for my bestie.
Well, really just Antoine carried the piece of furniture while Alphonse took all of the credit for the refinished and recovered antique chaise they turned around in mere days. The silvery-blue silk cushion gleamed under the ballroom lights.
Janine swallowed me in a spinning hug. “I love it, love it, love it!”
“It’s actually from me and my mom.” I glanced across the room. “And…dad.”
My mouth felt like I’d swallowed a huge glob of peanut butter. It didn’t go down well – er, good. I didn’t need any further reminders of my recent adventure with Marley and his chains.
Zeke and I resumed the dance as Janine left to hug my parents. “Your mom told me about the find in the well.”
There’s that word again.
“Oh, is that all?” I asked.
“And how you got that nasty bump,” he said, reaching for my noggin. “Look at the size of that thing.”
“Hey, hey, hey,” I said, inching away. “Look but don’t touch. It’s still a little sensitive.”
His gaze softened. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
I gulped down the return of the peanut butter feeling then rested my head against Zeke’s broad chest, trying not to think about Maurice, bony bodies, or hungry gators – and then remembered an important decision I’d still put off.
“Hey Zeke,” I asked.
“Hmm?”
“Do you like being a Ranger?”
“It’s what I’ve always wanted to be,” he said, then pulled back to look me in the eyes with wary doubt. “Why do you ask?”
I shrugged. “Just wondering what else I’d be doing if I wasn’t bartending.”
“You mean you’re thinking about giving up your barhopping, beer-guzzling ways?”
“Well, when you put it like that,” I muttered.
He didn’t say anything for a few seconds. “So what would you be doing if you weren’t slinging drinks?”
I took a deep breath. It’s all on you now, Grady. “I was thinking about getting a PI license.”
His eyes widened about the same time his jaw dropped. Then he pressed my face between his firm pecs and held me tight as he shook his head.
“God help us…every one.”
Begging, Pleading, and Other Shameless Nonsense
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About the Author
Sometimes life emulates fiction.
/> Life is filled with tragedy and Ms. Bale's writing reflects this reality. However, there is always a silver lining...even if one must spend their entire life searching for it.
In her previous career, Ms. Bale traveled the United States as a Government Relations Liaison, working closely with Congressional offices and various government agencies. This experience afforded her a glimpse into the sometimes "not so pretty" reality of the political sphere. Much of this reality and various locations throughout her travels make it into her writing.
She dreams of the day she can return to visit Alaska.
Connect with her online
Facebook: DABaleAuthor
Twitter: @DABale1
Blog: DA Bale Publishing
Email: dabalepublishing@cox.net
Additional Works by D A Bale
The Bartender Babe Chronicles:
Look Before You Jump
Think Before You Speak
Knock Before You Enter
Die Before You Wake coming 2017
The Deepest Darkness Series:
Running into the Darkness
Piercing the Darkness
Rising from the Darkness
The Study, a novelette