A Flair for Beignets (The Sadie Kramer Flair Mysteries Book 3)

by Deborah Garner

  “Not a bad idea,” Sadie answered truthfully. She could see the skeleton earrings appealing to the trendier customers.

  “I don’t recall what type of work you said you do,” Sadie ventured. “I’m sorry. My memory isn’t what it used to be.”

  “Don’t worry. We’re all getting on in years.” Clotile looked around the room again and then looked back at Sadie. “I do a little of this and that. Nothing as exciting as owning my own fashion boutique.” She took another sip and stood up. “Be right back. Must hit the ladies’ room.”

  Great evasion tactic, Sadie thought as she watched Clotile walk away. And not a bad time to prepare for my own escape. She nibbled on her food, contemplating a departure plan.

  “Much better,” Clotile said as she returned to the table.

  Must people always make comments after bathroom visits? It was a habit Sadie disliked. Then again, she didn’t much like anything about the way the day had gone.

  “I’d better be getting back to the hotel,” Sadie said. She took one more sip of her Hurricane and dipped a chip into the crawfish dip, if only to not appear in a hurry to leave.

  Clotile nodded. “Well, you have had quite a day.”

  “Indeed,” Sadie said. “One I’d like to forget.” She yawned and stood up. “Thank you for the… What did you call them? Oh yes, Hurricanes.”

  Sadie waved and headed out. As she started the walk back to the hotel, she confided in the only living creature she trusted at this point.

  “Coco, I have a bad feeling about all this.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Sadie approached the hotel with caution, unsure if she felt rattled by the events at Cyril’s Crazy Cajun Cookery or simply nervous about additional problems with her accommodations. Detective Broussard had promised the room would be watched at all times, but how did she know that for sure? Was the police watch that had been set up that dependable?

  “We should have changed hotels, Coco,” she said, head tilted toward her right shoulder, where her tote bag hung. “There’s a lovely place just a block from here with wrought iron balconies and begonias along the railings. It’s not our responsibility to help the police catch a killer, as convenient as it is for them to have us help.” The tote bag swayed in response to her voice. “I understand, Coco,” she responded. “I’m curious too. And getting more suspicious by the hour.”

  The courtyard outside her room was deserted, aside from a hotel maintenance worker repairing a sprinkler head. She said hello as she slid her room key into the lock. The man nodded a polite but disinterested greeting in return and went back to work.

  Relieved to find the interior of the room untouched, Sadie helped Coco settle into her luxurious travel palace. She prepared the Yorkie’s dinner, refilled her water bowl, and then retreated to the front room.

  Grabbing a magazine from a side table, Sadie collapsed on the couch, hoping a little mundane reading material would take her mind off the events of her supposed vacation. After reading one survey that turned her cheeks bright red, a shampoo ad with luxurious locks flowing off the page, and an article titled “Ten Days to Firm Abs!” Sadie tossed the magazine aside. She liked her shampoo, she’d grown to accept her soft muscles, and as for the survey? Well, those days were over.

  A sudden ring from the suite’s telephone caused Sadie to jump. Against her better judgment, she answered the call, relieved to find it was only a young girl at the front desk.

  “Would you like any ice tonight, Ms. Kramer?”

  Heavens, no! Sadie caught herself before spilling out the sentiment in those exact words. “No, thank you,” she managed. “And it’s fine to call me Sadie.”

  Hanging up the phone, Sadie glanced at her watch. It was early evening, yet she felt exhausted. The idea of dinner was unappealing. For one thing, she still felt stuffed from all the appetizers. For another, she’d survived the day and was now safely tucked back in her room. She wasn’t about to go out again.

  With that thought, she walked to the door and secured both the dead bolt and the chain. As far as she was concerned, she was in for the night. If she became hungry, she had her usual stash of snacks and chocolate on hand. If lonely, she had Coco to talk to—ideal since Coco had a wide range of expressive responses but didn’t actually talk back. This made for a perfect conversation, especially when Sadie felt tired or confused, both of which she felt now.

  Sadie glanced at the clock, noting that it was nearly eight p.m. Taking the time difference into consideration, she realized she could still reach Amber and see how things were going at Flair. Maybe the touch of familiarity that would come with checking in on her own business would calm her nerves. She picked up her cell phone and punched in the number to the boutique. Amber answered on the second ring.

  “Sadie, I’m glad to hear from you!” Amber’s voice was as perky as ever, likely due to the massive quantities of coffee she drank throughout the day.

  “Why?” Sadie asked. “Is anything wrong?”

  “Uh, no,” Amber said. “Why would you think that? You know I’d call you if anything went wrong.”

  Sadie sighed. She could hear the clicking sound of hangers bumping against each other in the background, as well as muffled voices. That was a good sign; the shop was doing business. “I’m sorry, Amber. My nerves are on edge. I guess I just assume things are going to go wrong at this point.”

  “Aren’t you on vacation, Sadie?” Amber asked. “You’re not supposed to worry on vacation. You’re supposed to get away from worrying. Why are your nerves on edge anyway? You’re not in chocolate withdrawal, are you? They must have chocolate in New Orleans.”

  “Of course they do.” Sadie laughed. She was glad to feel the mood lighten, although now she had visions of Matteo’s mouthwatering chocolates in her head. Having a gourmet chocolatier next door to her San Francisco boutique had only made the chocolate cravings she’d had all her life grow stronger. “Am I missing out on any new flavor Matteo’s created this week?”

  “Just a passion fruit truffle with sprinkles of coconut on top,” Amber said. “He said he’d recreate it for you when you return. He said your opinion is the most valuable.”

  “Such a sweet-talker,” Sadie said. “But I don’t object to being his official taste-tester.”

  “I’m sure you don’t.” Amber laughed and then became more serious. “So tell me why your nerves are on edge. You didn’t sound like yourself when this conversation started.”

  Sadie sighed. Where to begin? “Let’s just say I stumbled into another mystery.”

  “That seems to happen when you travel,” Amber pointed out.

  “I know,” Sadie admitted. “I guess I just have a knack of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “This isn’t another…” Amber lowered her voice to a whisper, an additional sign that customers were present. “…murder, is it?”

  “I’m afraid so,” Sadie said. She proceeded to explain the series of events, pausing once when Amber excused herself to answer a customer’s question.

  “Well, at least you’ve made a friend there,” Amber said when she was back on the line. “How fortunate to meet someone on the airplane who lives there and can show you around.”

  “That’s what I thought until today,” Sadie said, going on to explain the odd interaction at the restaurant earlier.

  “I don’t know,” Amber said. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I can hear how on edge you are. Could you be reading more into it than there is?”

  “I might be,” Sadie admitted. “But it bothers me that the man Clotile talked to seemed familiar. I keep trying to place him.”

  “Maybe he’s the hotel owner you said arrived in town recently?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” Sadie said. ”Clotile didn’t seem to know him when she pointed him out during the wine-and-appetizer hour. She knew who he was, but that was all. I got the impression she knew the man at the restaurant well.”

  “Because? Wait, just a minute.”
Amber set the phone down to ring up a sale. Sadie heard her thank the customer before coming back on the line.

  “Because?” Amber repeated.

  “It was the way she responded to the man’s affection,” Sadie said. “It was more than a casual happy-hour flirtation. And she didn’t mention it afterward. I think she would have bragged a little about a stranger flirting with her.”

  “So you think she was hiding something,” Amber said.

  “Yes, or…” Sadie paused. “Wait. Something just occurred to me. There’s another possibility. She might have been scared.”

  “Now you’ve lost me,” Amber said. “How did flirtation turn into fear?”

  “The way he patted her shoulder when he left. It was more than a gentle tap. In fact, it looked firm, as if underscoring whatever he whispered to her.”

  “Okay,” Amber said, clearly still confused.

  Sadie stood up and began pacing. “Yes, why didn’t I see this before? I think she was scared. That explains why she was glancing around after we sat back down. It also explains why she didn’t mention it.”

  “Are you going to talk to her about it?” Amber asked.

  “I don’t know,” Sadie said. “What if I’m wrong about her being scared? What if she’s involved with all this? Letting her know I saw the man approach her at the restaurant could put me in even more danger.”

  Sadie ended the call with Amber and put her phone away. Sinking back into the couch cushions, she realized her biggest problem of all: she no longer knew whom to trust.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Sadie glanced up at the sign hanging over the entrance to the fortune-teller’s shop. As silly as it seemed to the logical side of her brain, the other side wanted to hear what the fortune-teller had to say again. She’d certainly predicted events correctly during the first visit, saying someone was in danger. Granted, that was the type of general statement that could cover a lot of bases. Sadie knew it was just a line used for dramatic effect. Still, it had turned out to be true. She couldn’t help but wonder what else the woman might foretell.

  The interior of the shop looked just as it had the first night she’d wandered in. Voodoo items, potions, pamphlets, skulls, and souvenirs all lined multiple shelves, enticing tourists to pick up bizarre artifacts to take home to family and friends.

  A young man worked behind the counter this time, multiple tattoos and piercings accentuating his youthful face and body. A stick of incense extended upward from a jar of sand, its scent blending in seamlessly with the rest of the shop’s décor. Music that Sadie now recognized as zydeco blasted from speakers at a volume several levels higher than she would have thought ideal.

  Sadie approached the counter and set her tote bag on its surface. Distracted momentarily by an ink design of a crow on the clerk’s neck that oddly complemented the word Crow on his name tag, she refocused quickly and explained the purpose of her visit.

  “We’d like to see the fortune-teller.”

  As often happened when she phrased comments in such a way, the young man glanced around to see who accompanied her. Whether out of good manners or simply confusion, he looked back at Sadie and said, “Sure.” Picking up the shop phone, he arranged an appointment. Fifteen minutes later, Sadie and Coco sat in the back room, in front of a round table.

  Gina entered through a side door that creaked as she closed it. She wore a flowing dress of gauzy mustard-colored material, cinched in at the waistline with multiple bands of scarves. Gold chains intertwined with the fabric, much in the way someone might braid hair. Long strands of beads dangled from her neck, resting at varying heights. Her hair was swept up in a loose topknot, feathers sticking out in different directions.

  “You are here again,” Gina said after settling into the seat across from Sadie. Her voice was solemn, as if the declaration told of things to come.

  “Yes,” Sadie said, attempting—with some difficulty—to match Gina’s serious tone.

  “I’m glad to see you,” Gina said. She opened a black enamel box with mother of pearl inlay, removed a match, and lit a votive candle in the center of the table. Sadie watched a spiral of smoke evaporate into the air when the woman blew out the match.

  “What brings you in today?” Gina placed both palms down on the table and leveled a gaze so direct that Sadie shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

  Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all, Sadie thought. She patted her tote bag gently, as if to calm her own nerves by calming Coco. This gesture was ridiculous, she realized, as she had no way of knowing if the woman’s demeanor was troubling to Coco or not.

  “Wait.” Gina raised both hands in the air dramatically. “You don’t need to tell me. I can see it in your eyes. You are troubled.”

  “Yes,” Sadie said. “I’d say that pretty much sums it up.”

  Gina closed her eyes. She inhaled slowly, exhaled just as slowly, and opened her eyes again. “It is telling that you use the word ‘sums,’” she said. “You have more than one trouble in your life right now.”

  I’ve actually lost count at this point, Sadie said to herself.

  “Yes,” Sadie replied out loud.

  “This trip has not been what you expected,” Gina said.

  “No,” Sadie said but then rephrased. “I should say both yes and no.”

  “Ah,” Gina said knowingly, but she didn’t continue. Instead, she leaned forward, the light from the candle reflecting unevenly across her features. “Tell me about your time here in New Orleans. What is ‘yes’ and what is ‘no’?”

  Coco picked that exact moment let out a sharp yip, causing both Sadie and Gina to look at the tote bag, which Sadie had cradled in her lap. Coco’s head popped up above the edge of the bag. A tiny rhinestone barrette that Sadie had clipped into Coco’s head earlier shimmered in the candlelight. Sadie pulled a treat out of the tote’s outside pocket and held it out to Coco, who eagerly took it and disappeared back into the bag.

  “The ‘yes,’” Sadie said, turning her attention back to Gina, “includes the jambalaya and gumbo, the colors and curiosities of the French Market, the architecture of the historic buildings, and the fascinating music.”

  An odd buzz interrupted the session. Glancing at the side of the table, Sadie was surprised to see an incoming call on a cell phone.

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize I’d left that out,” Gina said. She picked up the phone, turned it off, and slipped it under the table.

  Just another case of someone’s personal life interfering with the day job. “Don’t even worry about it,” Sadie said.

  “And the ‘no’?” Gina asked, continuing on as if the cell phone hadn’t disrupted the session at all.

  Where do I even begin? Sadie thought to herself. Or, better yet, don’t begin at all.

  This internal warning took her by surprise. On the edge of summarizing the negative aspects of her visit, she realized a simple truth: Gina could be a local, just like anyone else with a day job. She might know someone who knew someone who knew someone involved with the whole crazy Arnaud-LeBlanc mess.

  On the other hand, the fortune-teller might simply be an accountant from Baton Rouge who commuted into New Orleans for a part-time job as a distraction from her regular work. Certainly dressing up as she did would be a change of pace.

  “Now that I think about it,” Sadie said lightly, “there really isn’t a ‘no.’ This city is rich with culture, and the people are fascinating. I’d say the trip has turned out to be even more interesting than I expected it to be.” There, Sadie thought, feeling clever. An understatement is a way to tell the truth without telling the whole truth.

  “I see,” Gina said, nodding knowingly. “Let’s see what the cards have to say.” She moved the candle to the side of the table and brought out a deck of tarot cards. One by one, she arranged the cards face up.

  Sadie watched each card as it emerged from the deck, intrigued by the vintage designs: a fool, dancing on the edge of a cliff; a magician, arm held high abov
e a chalice; a dog and wolf howling at a moon; an emperor, dressed in armor, on a throne.

  “You are looking for a solution to your problems,” Gina said. Bangles on her arm jangled as she reached out and tapped the magician card. “But beware of illusion.”

  “Illusion,” Sadie repeated slowly, as if hearing the word for the first time.

  “Yes,” Gina said. “Things are not always as they seem.”

  Sadie nodded. “I’m finding that out.”

  Gina moved her hand to another card. “Do you see what the emperor is wearing?”

  Sadie leaned forward, studying the image. “A robe.”

  “True,” Gina said. “But what else?”

  Again Sadie looked at the man’s attire. “He’s also wearing armor.”

  “Exactly,” Gina said. “You are up against real power.” Her hand moved back to the magician card. “Yet there is a possibility of illusion.”

  “That’s not a comfortable combination,” Sadie said, feeling rattled in spite of her skepticism about tarot cards in general. The fortune-teller did seem to be hitting on points that related to her current predicament, whether by accident or not.

  The tote bag shifted in her lap, a sign that Coco was getting restless. This was a sign Sadie could interpret herself. There will be a walk in the near future.

  “I’m sorry to cut the session short, Gina, but I must go now,” Sadie said, standing up. “To be more specific, the creature in my tote bag must go now.”

  “I understand.” Gina maintained her fortune-teller voice, yet grinned. “I have a similar creature at home.”

  Sadie thanked Gina and left the shop. Conveniently, a grassy area was a short walk away. As she took Coco on the much-needed walk, Gina’s words echoed in her mind.

  You are up against great power, but watch out for illusion.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Bluette’s Beignets was just as crowded as Sadie expected it to be. With Lisette’s place still closed across the street, most tables were filled with cheerful diners. Other customers stood to the side, numbered tickets in hand, waiting for orders to take back to offices.