When she explained about the missing sketch pad with the sketch of her dream, Gideon’s mouth twitched. “Interesting, but I’m not sure how it fits in.”
“Neither am I.” The dog with the blond curls bounded up the steps, followed closely by Lawless. The German shepherds roused enough to sniff the newcomer and then flopped to the deck again. “I tried to get Reuben to tell Constantine, but he refused. He says Constantine doesn’t want to talk to me.”
Gideon rolled his eyes. “Constantine called a bit ago, asking me to put all available resources into locating Zeb Bonnard and bringing him to the Impractical Cat.”
Marguerite stood. “Don’t! Constantine will beat him up to get information.”
Gideon shook his head. “I don’t claim to understand what goes on inside Constantine’s mind, but he wouldn’t ask me to bring him someone he was planning to beat up.”
She swallowed. That made sense, not that she would trust Constantine an inch after this.
“Matter of fact, he told me the kid needs protection.”
Marguerite would have preferred to find fault with everything Constantine did, but instead she nodded reluctantly. “Yes. He does.”
“Unfortunately, after taking turns with Constantine’s people to keep an eye on him all day, we lost him. Any idea where he might have gone, apart from home?”
She shook her head. Now that Gideon knew about Zeb, she had no reason on earth not to tell him everything. “What’s really bothering me is the torture porn.”
Gideon’s paintbrush stopped dead. “Say what?”
She sat down again and told him all about it, both the incident with Zeb and later with Constantine and the backpack, and showed him the porn. “Constantine’s convinced I already knew about this garbage. He said I was destroying evidence on purpose. He thinks I’m—I don’t know what he thinks. I tried to explain, but he wouldn’t listen.” Her lip quivered. She took a deep breath. “Anyway, what’s really significant is that Pauline’s husband tied her up and tortured her a couple of times before she finally got away from him. This kind of picture would have brought it all back. It would have terrified her.”
“Terrified her into killing herself?”
“Sure, if she saw it as a threat! She’d had nightmares for years and suffered from crippling depression, and she was doing better, but this might have caused a huge setback.” She felt tears prickle again and bit her lip. “Why didn’t she tell me or someone else she knew? And if she’d already decided to kill herself, why would she put the porn in an envelope she knew I would open up? I wondered if the murderer had done it, but that doesn’t make sense either, if he wanted her death to look like an overdose.”
Gideon studied the printouts for a long moment and set them down. He dipped his brush into the orange paint and laid it on with smooth strokes. “You say you picked up the envelope and put it in your backpack before her body was found?” Marguerite nodded. “Did anyone else have an opportunity to add something to the envelope?”
“I carry my backpack with me all the time, so that wouldn’t be easy. Who am I supposed to suspect? Constantine? Not such a bad idea. Tit for tat, the jerk.” She was practically spitting with rage again, but that was better than crying. “Sorry. I’m usually pretty much in control, but I’ve never been so mad in my life as I was at Constantine, and just thinking about it makes me want to throw things again.” She took another deep breath. “Tony Karaplis? He’s a close friend. He wouldn’t do something like that. Neither would my friend Lavonia.” She crossed her arms, sat back in the chair, and fumed.
Gideon’s restful aura matched the easy strokes of the brush. He sure got the prize for calm. After a while, he asked, “Was the backpack at your place when the intruder came?”
She pondered. “No, it was in my car both times. I left it there during the concert, and I forgot to take it indoors the next evening after I went clubbing. Constantine left my car by the side of the road when he came to find me, and Jabez brought it over to Janie’s place, and the car was empty and unlocked for a while, but it was in such a random spot that… It’s really not likely someone found it and planted the porn.”
“So let’s assume Pauline left those pictures as a message to you. The question is, what kind of message?”
She felt herself pale. “A warning?”
“Could be.” Imperturbable as ever, he finished the chair and wiped the remaining paint on a newspaper, then capped the can. “Maybe so you would understand why she killed herself. On the other hand, maybe she saw letting you know as her only hope of seeing justice served and whoever threatened her caught and punished.”
“And prevented from hurting anyone else,” Marguerite agreed softly. “But the porn doesn’t prove anything. She took her own meds, and there was no sign of a struggle…”
“Maybe it does prove something, and we just haven’t figured out what. Let’s go indoors for some good light.”
They spread the pictures on a desk, and Gideon took out a magnifying glass. “You see those little blue dots an inch apart in a vertical line on the same place on every page? Even when there are colors covering them, you can sometimes see them with the magnifying glass.”
“Printer cartridge leak,” Marguerite said.
“Yep,” Gideon grinned. “I wonder if the ones Reuben took to Constantine are the same.”
“You think these pics are what the intruder really wanted both times?”
“Seems like the sketch pad was just a bonus,” Gideon said. “How many people knew about the sketch?”
“Only a few—Tony Karaplis and my girlfriend Lavonia. But if the porn was all he wanted, why didn’t he search right after he killed Pauline?” She answered her own question. “Maybe he thought a break-in would call attention to the fact that it wasn’t a suicide. Or maybe he didn’t care at first whether it was found, because he hadn’t noticed that the printer cartridge had a leak.” Pause. “But once he knew, why not just change the cartridge so no one would know he printed them?”
“Maybe something else is out there, something that was printed on the same machine and could be traced to him.”
“Or to Roy Lutsky, so he planted porn in Roy’s office.”
“Constantine will talk to me.” Gideon got out his cell phone and made a call. Marguerite huddled into her chair and waited. Ophelia appeared in the doorway, carrying a cute baby girl with bright blue eyes and her father’s dark hair.
“Hey, man,” Gideon said. “I need to see those porn printouts Reuben brought you this morning.” More waiting, and Gideon huffed. “Damn. I wanted to hold that over your head. What do you think?” More silence at this end, and suddenly Ophelia’s fangs popped out. “Uh-oh,” Gideon said but listened for a few seconds more. “Will do. Gotta go.” He ended the call and said, “Calm down, Ophelia. This isn’t your problem. Marguerite, he’d already noticed the blue dots and suggested we ask you who might share a printer with Dr. Lutsky. Think about it and let me know.” He ambled away to clean up the paintbrush.
Ophelia led Marguerite into the kitchen. “What Constantine really said, in the most sarcastic way possible, was that since you seem so closely connected with everybody in this case, including the murderer, Gideon should interrogate you properly.”
“Thanks for eavesdropping for me,” Marguerite said. Vampire hearing came in handy at times, even if it was to learn horrible news. She took a grubby tissue from her pocket and blew her nose. Then the baby smiled at her, and she couldn’t hold back the tears.
“Actually, it’s a good sign,” Ophelia said, handing her a full box of tissues. “He wouldn’t bother being sarcastic if he wasn’t on the defensive. He then did a 180-degree turn and told Gideon to warn you not to trust anybody, especially people you know.”
“So why didn’t Gideon warn me?”
“Because he thinks that in your current mood, you’re more likely to do the opposite of what Constantine says.”
“I may be furious at him, but I’m not an idiot.”
> “They’re guys,” Ophelia said. “We have to humor them.” She settled Marguerite at the kitchen table with a cup of jasmine tea, sat across from her, and put her baby to the breast. “It’s not my favorite brew, but my sister swears by it for the crossed in love. Or sex. Which is it?”
“I hardly know him,” Marguerite said, “so I don’t see how it can be love. And although the sex was exciting, and I wanted to do it again…” And I could feel his pleasure, and it was so beautiful. She grimaced. “I guess, when all’s said and done, it was just sex.” She took a sip of tea so she wouldn’t start crying again.
Ophelia shifted the nursing baby more comfortably on her arm and said nothing.
“At least I remembered to ask him to use a condom,” Marguerite said glumly.
“That says a lot for your presence of mind,” Ophelia said. “He didn’t just steamroll you into it.”
Quite the contrary, but she wasn’t about to get into the whole bizarre scenario with the birds. “I’ve never really been interested in sex. Growing up with all that porn around me made it seem sort of blah, and the actual experience wasn’t that much better, so I’d given up on it.” She tried to smile. “I guess you wouldn’t understand, being a vampire.”
“I can’t relate to it being blah, but I gave up on it for a while because I kept ending up with jerks and crazies. I was a mess by the time Gideon came along.”
“He seems like such a stable, easygoing guy,” Marguerite said politely, although there was no seeming about it; Gideon’s aura confirmed it. The house wasn’t cold like Lavonia’s, but she cupped her hands around the warm mug as if it could chase away the chill in her heart. “Until I met Constantine, my plan was to wait until I fell in love before having sex again.”
“Ah.”
“I figured if the sex wasn’t interesting, at least love would be there to give it purpose, whether affection and connection or children or whatever.” Oh, crap, she was crying again. She reached for another tissue.
“Maybe you’re in love with Constantine, and you don’t know it,” Ophelia said. “Or you aren’t ready to admit it. Or maybe you only wish you were in love with him. Or wish you weren’t.”
“All of the above,” Marguerite said. “I’ve never been so confused in my life.”
Ophelia’s smile was all sympathy. “You’re overwrought and in no shape to judge. You’ve gone through a lot of weird stuff in the last few days. Given a little time, you’ll sort it out.”
“Maybe I don’t need to, seeing as I’m not associating with him anymore.” Marguerite blew her nose again. “At least now my days of media persecution are limited.” As the light at the end of the tunnel, this didn’t seem nearly as bright as she would have expected.
Ophelia grinned sympathetically. “You have to understand that… well, Constantine is hopeless at relationships.”
“No, duh.”
“Even as a friend he keeps his distance.” She took a sip of her own tea. “But he’s completely solid and loyal, and ruthless when it comes to protecting people he cares about.” She cocked her head to one side. “Even those he doesn’t care about. He’s obsessed with protecting the weak and helpless, and he hates himself when something goes wrong.”
“Like those concerts where people were killed. He feels responsible.”
Ophelia’s brows rose, and her aura confirmed her surprise. “He told you that?”
“Sort of.” She wasn’t about to get into details, no matter how sympathetic the listener. Ophelia’s aura was busy now, as it had been outdoors when she was deciding what to do about Reuben. Marguerite shook her head. “We shouldn’t discuss him further. I don’t want to jeopardize your friendship with him.” Her voice trembled toward the end of the sentence. “Thanks for the tea, but I should go now.”
Sympathy bloomed in Ophelia’s aura. “I know you’re feeling rotten, but this isn’t the right moment to give up. I’ll tell you what I know about him, and then you can decide whether he’s worth working on.” The baby let go of the breast. Ophelia lifted her, and she promptly belched and gave another of those goofy baby smiles. “We don’t believe in giving up easily, do we, precious?”
Marguerite frowned. “Maybe he’d rather you didn’t talk to me about him.”
Ophelia snorted. “Oh, no, honey. In the first place, there are so many rumors cooking about the man that a little truth now and then will be lost in the soup, and in the second place, I promise you he wants me to talk to you.”
“Did he tell you that?” Marguerite wanted to slap herself for sounding so hopeful.
“No, but you’re the only woman he’s slept with in I don’t know how long. He must like you a lot, and he doesn’t take to people easily, so that’s really saying something. And if he’s been trying to talk about stuff that matters, it’s saying even more.”
“Maybe he used to like me, but he’s decided he can’t trust me, and now he won’t even talk to me. But what hurts most,” Marguerite added, stirred to anger again, “is that I thought I’d finally found someone who believed me. Someone who wouldn’t shun me or freak out or…” She sucked in a deep breath.
Ophelia’s brows drew together. “Freak out about what?”
Marguerite swallowed some tea. “Oh, what the hell.” If anyone understood keeping secrets, it was a vampire. “It’s because I see auras,” she said. “Don’t tell anyone.”
“I won’t.” Ophelia put the baby on the other breast. “So?”
“I can tell a lot about what people are feeling by what’s going on in their auras.” Ophelia didn’t flinch at that, so she added, “I don’t usually tell people because it causes more trouble than it’s worth. I explained it to Constantine, and he said it was cool, but I could see he didn’t like it much, and…” She explained about Roy Lutsky and the incident in the restaurant.
Ophelia gave a whoop of laughter, the startled baby released the nipple and let out a wail, and breast milk sprayed across the table. Still chuckling, Ophelia calmed the baby and finally got her back on the breast.
Marguerite took a napkin and wiped the table. “Reuben told Constantine, but Constantine didn’t tell me he knew until after we made love. He twisted everything I’ve done to protect him, like telling that reporter we were having tantric sex, saying it proves I’m a liar and therefore untrustworthy, when the last thing I would ever do is tell Lutsky anything about having sex with Constantine. I mean, you’re a vampire and a close friend of his, and all I told you was that it was exciting. Would I be likely to give intimate details to a nut job like Lutsky?”
“Constantine expects people to kiss and tell. The biographies about him are full of it, and you must have heard what Jonetta said about him.”
Dismay washed over Marguerite. Her childish response to Constantine must have reminded him a lot of Jonetta, reinforcing his decision to get rid of her. “I got so upset that I completely lost it. I screamed and threw a tray with plates and iced tea across the room.”
Ophelia shrugged. “It happens.” She flushed, both face and aura. “Even with easygoing guys.”
“Not to me! I don’t know what got into me, but I hope I didn’t ruin anything. There was iced tea dripping down one of his guitars.”
“Serves him right,” Ophelia said. “When did Constantine talk to you about the concerts? Before or after Reuben told him about Professor Lutsky?”
“After.”
“Which means he still wanted to trust you, even after he knew. Trusting you made him vulnerable, though, which scared him.” She nodded sagely. “He’s sure he can’t maintain a relationship, so he destroyed it before it destroyed him.”
This sounded a lot like psychobabble to Marguerite, but she refrained from saying so. “Do you know anything about his childhood?”
“Not much,” Ophelia said. “He doesn’t talk about it, but something happened to Constantine when he was very young, before he came to New Orleans. Tony Karaplis has known him since he was eight or nine, and he’s always been like this. He doesn�
��t trust anybody, not really. He’s pretty close to Tony, and he relies on Lep more than anyone, but deep down he’s afraid of something. Betrayal, maybe? Or abandonment? I don’t know what it is, but it’s shaped his character. If you care about him, you’ll just have to live with that. There may always be a degree of separation, no matter what.” Pause. “Not that there isn’t always one, because a couple is still made up of two people, but it may be greater than you’d like. But you don’t seem like the clingy type.”
“I’m not.” But she needed to be trusted. She needed to be believed. She shook her head again. “After what happened today, it’s hard to imagine being with him again.”
The baby had fallen asleep at Ophelia’s breast. She smiled lovingly down at it. “And here I was hoping you two would make some gorgeous babies together.”
“I’m not making a baby with any man who’s lovey-dovey one minute and cold as ice the next.” Marguerite’s brain was beginning to clear. “You may be right about his fear of relationships, but that’s not what was going on today. We were having fun. He wanted to have sex again and went downstairs for condoms. He was gone for quite a while—way longer than it should have taken—and he came back looking completely wrung out.” A spark of hope fluttered into life. What if something had happened while he was gone? “All the arousal in his aura had vanished. The warmth and enjoyment were gone, too. His aura was flat and harsh, and the colors were ugly, and then he fed me all that crap.”
Ophelia frowned, her aura perplexed. “You can really see all that?”
“Yes, I can. You have every right to be suspicious,” she said belligerently.
“Am I suspicious?” Ophelia looked down at herself as if she expected to see tendrils of mistrust growing from her belly. She laughed. “One of these days, you’ll have to tell me all about myself, but if I’m suspicious now, it’s not of you. I have plenty of weird abilities of my own.” Her aura was busy again. “It’s of this whole situation. Something must have happened while he was gone that made him change his mind.”
“That’s just what I was wondering!” The spark of hope became a tiny, wavering candle. Marguerite thought back, remembering the faint sound of Lawless freaking out, but that had been over almost immediately, and they hadn’t returned for a good while after that. “Once he’d started dissing me, and I was getting good and irate, his aura relaxed. He seemed sort of smug.”
[Bayou Gavotte 03.0] Heart of Constantine Page 25