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

by Deborah Garner

  “Did you see that board by the front desk, the one with announcements?” Sadie asked. “It says there’s a celebration of life here tonight for Mimi Arnaud.”

  Clotile shrugged her shoulders. “That makes sense. She ran this place, you know.”

  “True.” Sadie agreed. “Oh, and Horace is gone.”

  Clotile looked up from an article on hairstyles. “What do you mean gone?”

  “I mean he’s not here,” Sadie said. “The front desk said he stepped out unexpectedly. Don’t you find that odd?”

  “Not really,” Clotile replied. “He’s been gone for years. I think it’s strange he’s here at all even if he is working on some real estate deal. Johnny always prefers to work on his own. He feels owners get in the way of his methods.”

  “I would imagine so,” Sadie said. “According to what you’ve told me of his past deals. Speaking of which, I need to give Broussard an update. Maybe I should go alone.” Sadie mentally crossed her fingers, hoping Clotile would agree to this. It would be easier to talk to the detective alone.

  “Great idea,” Clotile said. “I have other things to do anyway.”

  “What other things?” Sadie said, her suspicions taking yet another unexpected turn. A person could get dizzy switching suspects this often, she thought to herself.

  Clotile sent her a frustrated look, as if reading her mind. “Look, if you want to think I’m guilty multiple times per day, go ahead.” She slapped the magazine down on a lobby table and stood up. “I’ve told you everything I know. You can believe me or not. I don’t care at this point. Do what you want. I’m going to help Lisette get ready for the bakery’s reopening.” She stormed off in a huff.

  “Well!” Sadie said to Coco. “I’d say everyone’s on edge, wouldn’t you? I suppose I need to count myself in there too.” Sadie took the tentative yip that followed as proof. “Too much thinking and not enough action, that’s the problem. Let’s go talk to Broussard.”

  * * *

  The police station was beginning to look far too familiar, especially for a vacation. There were plenty of other places in New Orleans that Sadie would have preferred to visit multiple times. Yet there she was again.

  “Detective Broussard, please.”

  As confirmation of her multiple visits, the officer at the front desk had already picked up the phone to call the detective. “Someone is here to see you,” she said, pausing. “Yes, it is.”

  “We’re famous, Coco,” Sadie said as she sat down to wait for Broussard. “Although, considering where we are, that could be ‘infamous.’”

  “Ms. Kramer,” Broussard said as he emerged from the back. “What a surprise.” His expression contradicted his words.

  “I have new information for you,” Sadie said.

  “Come on back.”

  Sadie followed Broussard, though she wouldn’t have had to. The station layout had become far too familiar to her. She was soon seated across from the detective.

  “Go on,” Broussard said.

  What? No coffee this time? Maybe she was wearing out the welcome mat at this point.

  “I know who the man is that Horace LeBlanc has been meeting with,” Sadie said. “His name is John Malone, and he runs real estate scams.” She sat back in her chair, pleased with herself. Perhaps they’d make her an honorary deputy or something. At least she could go back to San Francisco with a badge for a souvenir.

  “We know who Johnny Malone is,” Broussard said.

  There goes my badge, Sadie thought. She just couldn’t catch a break on this supposed vacation. Maybe she would consider some sort of Zen retreat for her next trip. At least it would be calmer with little chance of crime.

  “Oh,” Sadie said.

  “Chicago PD keeps an eye on him because of shady real estate dealings,” Broussard said.

  “Yes,” Sadie said. “I was going to tell you.”

  Broussard frowned. “How did you know that?”

  Sadie stalled a moment, feeling a brief tug of questionable friendship for Clotile but knew she needed to divulge everything. After all, there was a killer to be caught.

  “Clotile told me,” Sadie said. “She knew Johnny when she lived in Chicago. She worked with him but quit when she realized he was running scams and taking advantage of people.”

  “I see,” Broussard said as he jotted down notes on the pad of paper.

  Sadie leaned forward in an attempt to read what the detective had written but pulled back when he shot her a look of disapproval.

  “And Horace LeBlanc is away. According to the hotel front desk, he ‘stepped out’ unexpectedly,” Sadie offered.

  Broussard stopped writing. “Really? Now that, we didn’t know.”

  Sadie sat back, a satisfied look on her face. Maybe I’ll get my badge after all.

  “Anything else?” Broussard leaned forward, ready to stand.

  “Not at this time,” Sadie said, impressed with how official she sounded.

  “Then I have something I’d like you to look at,” Broussard said. “Follow me.”

  “Sure,” Sadie said, puzzled. She retrieved Coco, who was once again sniffing for clues around the room. “Aren’t you curious, Coco?” She received a double yip in return. Clearly, Coco was just as curious as she was.

  Broussard led Sadie down the hallway, back to a room with computers and screens.

  “Have a seat,” he said, indicating a chair in front of one monitor. Sadie sat down and waited for instructions.

  “Run that tape,” Broussard said to a young tech-type person at the computer. He turned back to Sadie. “I want you to watch carefully and tell me if you see anything of interest.”

  Sadie was surprised to see footage of the back alley behind the hotel appear on the screen. Although the film was a night scene, the silhouette of a person running into the alley was clear, as well as what the person was holding: Coco’s travel palace.

  Sadie gasped and then cringed when the figure dropped the kennel. The culprit ran a short distance, grabbed a bike that was leaning against the wall, and took off at a fast pace.

  “We haven’t been able to gain much from this hotel security tape,” Broussard said. “Do you see anything we might be missing?”

  “Aside from my poor Coco being dropped?” Sadie’s voice wavered as she fought back tears. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. Seeing Coco treated like that was a shock. Can you play it again? I’ll make a point of being more objective.”

  Broussard instructed the young technician to replay the footage. Sadie watched it a second time and asked to see it again. On the third time through, she sat up straight at one point and shouted, “Stop!” She asked the technician to enlarge it, which he did. Sadie leaned forward, inspecting the image in front of her, and then sat back, silent.

  “Again?” Broussard asked, watching Sadie curiously.

  Sadie shook her head.

  “No,” she said. “There’s no need. I know who the killer is.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Gathering her tote bag, Sadie exited the police station and stood on the front steps, debating her next move. The plan she’d worked out with Broussard could not be put into play until later that evening. She needed to kill some time.

  As long as she was in such a helpful mode, she decided helping Lisette and Clotile prepare for the bakery’s reopening would be a good use of her afternoon. She left the station and headed over to Lisette’s.

  Although the Closed sign hung in the window at Chez Lisette Patisserie, the front door was ajar. Sadie pushed it open, stepped inside, and repositioned the door as she’d found it.

  “Sadie.” Lisette looked up from behind the glass display cases. “How nice to see you.”

  The scene inside was not at all what Sadie expected. She’d envisioned a crowd of people working together, music in the background, a jovial sense of anticipation in the air as everyone helped Lisette prepare for the reopening. Instead, she found Lisette placing doilies on trays for the di
splay cases.

  “I just thought I’d stop in and help you and Clotile,” Sadie said.

  “Clotile?” Lisette looked confused. “I haven’t seen her.”

  “Really,” Sadie said. “You’re here alone?”

  “Julien is in the back putting the finishing touches on a sheet cake for Mimi Arnaud’s reception,” Lisette said. “It has to be delivered to the hotel soon.” She pushed one doily-covered tray into the display case and pulled another out. “Did Clotile say she was coming by?”

  “Yes,” Sadie said. “We went to the hotel to look for Horace and then split up. I went to the police station to talk to Broussard. Clotile said she was going to come here.”

  Lisette shook her head. “Well, obviously she didn’t. In fact, she’s been rather aloof since Mimi’s… well, since that morning, aside from the night we all met up at Cyril’s place. I hope she’s okay.” She waved a doily in the direction of a basket by the register. “Have a praline. I make those myself, so they’re already wrapped and ready for customers.”

  Sadie understood Lisette’s avoidance of the word murder. The bakery owner was ready to move on. Who wouldn’t be, in her shoes? Meanwhile, she wasn’t about to turn down one of Lisette’s pralines.

  Ironic, Sadie thought as she bit into the delicious pecan treat. Lisette’s mouthwatering pralines were responsible for her falling into the whole Mimi Arnaud mess. Amazing the power a buttery brown sugar mixture could have.

  “I definitely need to buy some of these to take back to San Francisco with me,” Sadie said. “I was addicted from the first bite Clotile gave me on the flight here.”

  “They freeze well,” Lisette said. She switched out another tray in the display case.

  “Then I’ll have to take a few dozen,” Sadie said. “Is that too many?”

  “Not at all,” Lisette said. “I have plenty. I’ll set them aside today.”

  Sadie finished off the praline and offered to help Lisette with the trays. Lisette readily accepted, and the two began to work side by side.

  “I don’t understand why Clotile isn’t here,” Sadie said. “I was sure she said…” Sadie’s voice trailed off at the sound of footsteps approaching.

  “I’m here,” Clotile shouted as she stepped through the doorway. “I figured you could use some help, Lisette… and Sadie?” She dropped a purse and sweater on a table. “I thought you were going to talk to that detective.”

  “I did,” Sadie said. “It didn’t take long. I just filled him in. It’s not like I’m joining the force you know.” It suddenly occurred to her it might be an interesting career move on her part, but she quickly ruled it out. Not only would her Zen retreat be out of the question but she’d miss her fashion boutique too much, not to mention Matteo’s constant supply of chocolate.

  “Did you get things straightened out with the detective?” Clotile asked. She grabbed a stack of doilies and began to help fill the trays. Sadie could tell she was trying not to say too much in front of Lisette. And it was a safe bet she didn’t want a detailed answer.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact,” Sadie said. “It was a very productive meeting.”

  “That’s good, right?” Lisette said. “The sooner this whole thing is behind me, the happier I’ll be. I’m ready to get back to business as usual.”

  “Of course you are, Lisette,” Clotile said. “This whole thing has been dreadful for you. Not to mention the loss of business.”

  “It was only a few days,” Lisette said. “I’ll be fine.” She went to the back to see how the cake was coming along. Pleased to find out it was finished and on the way to the hotel already, she returned to the front.

  “Will you be at Mimi’s gathering tonight, Lisette?” Sadie asked as she set aside a finished tray.

  “Of course,” Lisette said. “Mimi was a lovely person, in addition to being a devoted customer. I wouldn’t miss the opportunity to pay my respects.”

  Sadie glanced at Clotile. “You’ll be there, won’t you?”

  Clotile nodded her head. “With free food and drinks? You bet. Er, I mean to pay my respects as well, of course.”

  Sadie and Lisette exchanged amused looks.

  “I imagine just about everyone will be there,” Clotile said. “Mimi had the respect of the hotel, as well as the community. She didn’t have any enemies.”

  An odd thing to say about someone who was murdered, Sadie thought, although this now made sense to her.

  “Yes,” Lisette said. “I believe everyone who’s anyone will be there.”

  Sadie looked at both women and smiled. It was exactly what she wanted to hear.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Sadie strolled through the Gallery Room, impressed. Lisette hadn’t been exaggerating. Half of New Orleans must have shown up for Mimi Arnaud’s Celebration of Life. Or perhaps it was Mimi’s Celebration of Free Food and Wine that brought the crowds in. Whichever it was, it didn’t matter. The people Sadie wanted there had all shown up.

  “Lovely event, don’t you think?”

  Sadie turned to her side, where she found Clotile in a striking emerald-green dress that complemented her red hair perfectly. Clotile held up a glass of white wine and leaned over closer to Sadie. “No Hurricanes here, but the wine’s not bad.” She took a sip and wandered off to join Lisette at the buffet.

  As much as Sadie hated to admit it, the event’s food spread put Cyril’s Crazy Cajun Cookery’s Happy Hour to shame in comparison. Of course, this was a bigger event, with more sentimentality attached to it, so it was to be expected. Although Lisette’s bakery had provided the cake—an elegant one, at that—the rest of the lavish buffet had been catered by Bluette’s. This was to be expected since it was within the family. Horace LeBlanc, now sole owner of Hotel Armand-LeBlanc, would certainly order through his own niece’s business.

  Bluette herself, quiet as usual, continually replenished the buffet table. Whenever the hot crab dip or Cajun-spiced meatballs began to run low, she reached below the linen banquet tablecloth and brought out more. The sizable crystal bowl of cocktail sauce never lacked a circle of shrimp around the rim. Each time one was plucked from the edge by a guest, another appeared. Had Sadie not seen the chilled containers and heated thermal boxes being stocked below the table earlier, she might have thought Bluette capable of pulling crab cakes out of a magician’s hat.

  Sadie had purchased a new outfit for the occasion at a small boutique not far from the hotel. She’d only packed casual clothes for the trip, never anticipating attending a memorial celebration for someone she never even knew. But any excuse to shop was a good excuse in her book. Therefore she felt no guilt in picking up the rose-colored silk sheath and jacket, as well as a string of pearls to add a sophisticated touch to the attire. Not to leave Coco out, she’d picked up an extra strand of pearls for the Yorkie.

  “You look quite lovely, Ms. Kramer.”

  Surprised to hear the compliment arrive cloaked in Broussard’s voice, she paused before glancing at the detective, who pinned a carnation on her lapel.

  “I suppose I won’t be spouting any deep dark secrets or inappropriate jokes tonight,” Sadie said, a knowing smirk on her face.

  “Testing, testing,” Broussard said, tilting his mouth in the direction of the floral accessory. “Entirely up to you,” he said, smiling as he straightened up. “We all enjoy entertainment.”

  In a bold move that she knew couldn’t show up on audio, she lightly elbowed the detective in his side.

  Horace entered, dressed more formally than most others in the room.

  “I wonder if he came from Mimi’s funeral,” Sadie murmured. She watched as Horace crossed to the buffet table and placed a kiss on Bluette’s forehead before moving around the room to greet guests. His somber expression and the way a few of the older attendees patted him on the shoulder or even hugged him made her wonder. Were they worried about the burden he’d bear without Mimi to run the hotel or simply expressing polite condolences? Or was it something more?

&
nbsp; “It seems we have all hands on deck,” Broussard said, looking around the room.

  “Yes,” Sadie said. “It’s a wonderful turnout. I think it’s inspiring to see the way the hotel has pulled together for this tribute. The front desk, the housekeeping staff, and the gardeners are all here to make sure the hotel is at its best.”

  “How fortunate for us all,” Broussard said. “I think I’ll celebrate with one of those puff pastry concoctions that I saw when I passed by the buffet.

  “Delicious!” Sadie said. “I tried one when Bluette first put them out. They’re stuffed with Andouille sausage.” An excited yip followed the word sausage, causing Broussard to frown. Sadie moved her tote away from the carnation, holding it in her hand, rather than keeping it on her shoulder.

  Even Johnny Malone had shown up, much to Sadie’s relief. He was the one person she’d counted on to arrive of his own accord—the one link she worried might be missing at the event. Instead of being a no-show, he’d been one of the first to arrive. He’d positioned himself in a chair not far from the buffet, a socially correct glass of wine in his hand, and a not-so-proper flask of something stronger hidden in a pocket. Admittedly, Sadie had flinched the first time he’d reached inside his jacket but relaxed when she saw him slyly pull out the container.

  As the celebration continued, the celebrating intensified. Clotile compensated for the lack of Hurricanes by imbibing larger quantities of white wine. Lisette joined Bluette behind the buffet, the two working together to keep up with the ravenous crowd. Laughter increased exponentially, and strangers became friends as they admired a photo collage of Mimi’s life and dedication to the hotel.

  Even Horace seemed to relax, his expression softening as condolences continued to roll in. So when he picked up a spoon from the buffet and tapped it against his wineglass, a jovial crowd paused to hear what he had to say.

  “We are here today to honor Mimi Arnaud’s life,” Horace said. Bluette reached up and patted her uncle’s shoulder as he continued. “And I feel honored to have this event at the Hotel Arnaud-LeBlanc, just as I feel honored to have had Mimi’s dedication to the business and legacy of the hotel for all these years.”