April Fools

by A. C. Mason

  I almost choked. “You did what?” The idea he would manipulate the situation like this raised my body temperature like a sudden fever. His self confident voice irked me even more.

  “You weren’t going to listen to me where your brother was concerned, so we talked about it. He said he would speak to you.”

  I frowned at him. “What kind of strong arm tactics did you use to convince him?”

  He gave a nonchalant shrug. “He and I both agreed you should stay out of the investigation.”

  Remembering Steven‘s surprise about Jim’s removal from the case, I asked, “Did you tell him you were taken off the case?”

  “No, I decided it was better if he didn’t know.”

  More worry came down on my head as another possible problem occurred to me. “Couldn’t your talk be construed as a form of coercion or some other legal issue?”

  “If the press gets hold of the information it could be made to look like harassment or anything they want to make out of it. My asking him to do this might be a problem if Steven decided to pursue charges against me for hassling him which I didn’t do. But if my superiors find out first it’ll look to them like I was feeding him confidential information.” He moved a few steps away into the dining room, then faced me again. With his arm resting on the back of a chair, he continued, “This could also be interpreted as interference in the investigation considering my position and would justify Lieutenant Marino’s decision to remove me from the case.”

  “So you took a big chance talking to him.” My anger subsided…until he spoke again.

  “Yes I did because I don’t want you getting involved in this. You don’t know what a desperate person will do if he’s backed into a corner. You could put yourself in danger.

  “Funny, that’s what Steven said. Put myself in danger.” I looked directly at him. “In other words if I backed Steven into a corner he could possible hurt me.”

  He didn’t answer.

  Right then I made up my mind…again…to uncover the truth. Something told me NOPD had other suspects besides my brother, suspects or evidence Jim wouldn’t or felt he couldn’t relate to me. “I promised you earlier I would stay out of the investigation, but after the events of this afternoon, I have to break my promise.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “What happened when you went to meet Steven?”

  “I’d rather not say.”

  “Damn it, Susan. You’re being childish.” He stared at me, his jaw muscles tensing.

  He was right, but I stood my ground. “This might be blackmail, but I’m not talking about what happened until you tell me what you’re not saying about the case.”

  “There isn’t anything else to tell,” he said, scowling at me.

  He brushed past me to the refrigerator and grabbed a beer before depositing himself back into his recliner to watch television.

  ~ * ~

  The next morning Jim left for work without saying a word. After tidying up the house, I sat down on the sofa to center my scattered thoughts. Jim’s actions really hurt me. He was the one being childish by not speaking to me. I couldn’t see any harm in my actions. What kind of danger could I possibly be in from their prime suspect who also happened to be my brother? Or was NOPD looking at someone else this time around? Someone who might be a danger to me?

  No, he’d always told me there were no other suspects. He feared I could mess up his desire to leave NOPD in good standing.

  The jangle of the phone startled me. I picked up, thinking the call might be from Jim. It wasn’t.

  “I’m warning you again,” the caller said. “Stay out of the investigation of Anne’s murder or you’ll be sorry.”

  “You’ve been watching too many crime shows on television,” I said. “Quit wasting my time. Don’t call me again.” I hung up.

  The phone rang again. I made it my business to check out the caller ID. The display listed Jim’s cell number.

  “Hello,” I answered feeling a bit nervous.

  “Hi,” he said in a cautious voice.

  “I’m sorry,” we both said at the same time. We laughed.

  “We need to sort this thing out,” Jim said. “I mean, without going off the deep end.”

  A weight lifted off my shoulders. “You’re right. I’ve been selfish about wanting to do what I want to do and not thinking about the consequences to you.”

  “Yeah, but I haven’t been very understanding of your feelings.” He paused and told someone nearby he’d be there in a moment. “Listen I’ve got to cut this short. Let’s try again to discuss everything tonight, okay?”

  “Sounds good to me. I love you.”

  “Love you too, baby,” he said.

  Saying and hearing those words reminded me of what a wonderful relationship we had in the past. I prayed we could return to that point.

  Darn it, I forgot to tell Jim about the second call. Maybe tonight he’ll be more inclined to listen. In the meantime, I decided to try to locate Greg St. Martin, my date for Lisa’s party ten years ago. We never ran into each other after the initial investigation of Anne’s murder, and several months later I started dating Jim. I heard through the grapevine that Greg ran a real estate development business in neighboring Jefferson Parish at one time. Hopefully he still did.

  Thumbing thru the telephone directory, I located him in the commercial pages for Metairie and jotted down the location. I might drop in for a visit. Maybe he couldn’t tell me anything new, but it was worth a shot.

  The address sounded vaguely familiar. Something clicked, and I flipped the pages forward to the W’s. How interesting. Trey Williamson’s office turned out to be the same building, but a different suite number. I heard he had an office out there, but I couldn’t imagine Trey moving his business to the suburbs when he’d lived his whole life wrapped in the cocoon of New Orleans high society. But my curiosity about him would have to wait for another day to be satisfied.

  Praying for success, I headed out on my mission, believing this might be my last opportunity to investigate on my own. After Jim and I talked tonight I’d probably be permanently barred from doing so. This being Easter weekend the possibility existed Greg wouldn’t even be at work, but I had to take the chance.

  His office proved to be in an attractive two story building located right off Causeway Boulevard. Inside the spacious lobby a fountain bubbled and splashed in the midst of a myriad of green plants. I noted his office suite number on the wall index. In need of the exercise, I by-passed the elevator and bounded up the marble stairs to the second floor.

  When I opened the door of his suite, the receptionist looked up from her computer and smiled.

  “Can I help you?” she asked. No doubt her perfectly styled blond hair cost a fortune at a salon. From the looks of her she could afford it. Several diamond rings glittered on her fingers.

  I admired her hair-do again and reminded myself I could afford to go to a salon every week if I chose to do so. Mentally I apologized to the woman for my snotty attitude. My blue collar blood from Mom’s side of the family must be coming to the forefront. Due to the generosity of my dad’s parents I’m able to be a stay-at-home wife and write. Jim didn’t force me to save the money. We elected to use only the interest for everyday expenses and not for unnecessary luxuries. A majority of the funds was invested anyway and couldn’t be touched without stiff penalties.

  “Is Greg in his office?” I asked.

  She glanced down at a datebook on her desk then returned a troubled gaze to me. “Did you have an appointment?”

  “No,” I said. “This is just a spur of the moment visit. I’m Susan Foret, a friend of his from way back. If he’s busy I can make an appointment and come back another time.”

  The woman chuckled. “No, I thought maybe I’d forgotten to write it down. I’m pretty efficient, but unfortunately I’m human. Have a seat. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  She rose from her chair and proceeded to a closed door walking gracefully on her stiletto heels. I neve
r mastered anything higher than two inches. After knocking once, she turned the knob and entered the room. From my seat I caught a glimpse of Greg at his desk before she closed the door behind her.

  A minute or two later she reappeared in the doorway and motioned for me to enter. Greg came around his desk to greet me with a friendly smile. He was the only one out of the whole crowd I could really trust to give me a genuine expression. His appearance hadn’t changed much in ten years except now a few gray hairs salted his sandy blond hair.

  “Long time no see,” he said, giving me a hug.

  “It has been a while,” I admitted. “It’s good to see you.”

  He pulled up a chair next to me. “So what’ve you been up to lately?”

  “I’ve been working on a mystery novel and trying to get published.” He looked impressed. “A while back I won a short story contest and the magazine sponsoring the contest published it in one of the issues last year. I’ve been trying to create a full length novel using the same protagonist, but can’t seem to get it going. It’s probably time to put it to bed and start a new story.”

  “Impressive,” he said, verifying my observation. “Keep at it. Who knows you could make it big as a novelist. Then I can say, ‘I knew her when.’ Why, I even had a couple of dates with her.” His rather boyish grin and twinkle in his blue-gray eyes reinforced the playfulness of his words.

  “So what’s going on in your world?”

  “Nothing except my business,” he said. “I eat, sleep, and breathe real estate.”

  I laughed, thinking he was joking. “Even with the housing market the way it is?”

  “I’ve really had to hustle because of it.”

  “No wife or kids?”

  He smiled, rather sadly. “No, I never found the right woman.” His sober expression remained for only a split second. He put on what appeared to be a forced smile. “Now, what can I do for you? Are you and Jim in the market for a new house?”

  The next house we buy will probably be in Cypress Lake. “No, I need a favor.”

  He raised his eyebrows and gave me a curious look.

  “You’ll probably think I have a lot of nerve asking for a favor since we haven’t seen each other in years. It’s not related to real estate.”

  “Now I’m even more intrigued,” he said. “And no, I don’t think you’re out of line asking me for a favor.”

  “Only because you haven’t heard it yet.” I smiled.

  He laughed. “Okay, I’ll bite. What can I do for you?”

  “I trying to find some information about an incident the night of Lisa Olivier’s party, the night Anne died.”

  His expression clouded. “My God, Susan, the party was ten years ago. What incident are you referring to?”

  “After we left Anne at her home and went back to the party, Michael returned shortly after us without Melanie. He and John Durand were involved in a rather animated discussion.”

  Greg contemplated the incident for a long moment. “Yeah, I remember now. Michael had to escort John out onto the back deck when he became so agitated. At the time I didn’t really think it was strange.”

  I nodded in agreement. “I didn’t either and passed it off as John having too much to drink or else he was upset about Mary Catherine.”

  He cocked his head slightly to one side. “Anne’s case might be reopened. Is that why you’re asking me about the party?”

  “Yes, it’s definitely going to be reopened. You must have seen Steven’s attorney on the news the other night.”

  “I did see the interview and wondered how you were handling the bad memories.” He paused for a moment and studied my face. “You don’t believe he killed her, do you?”

  It seemed perfectly natural for me to defend my brother. Why did everyone else find it so surprising? “Of course I don’t. Do you?”

  “I really can’t say,” he said, lowering his eyes. He returned his gaze to my face. “The police obviously never had enough evidence to charge Steven. If they arrest him now, they’ll have to prove their case in court. But what does the incident between Michael and John have to do with anything.”

  Should I reveal the events leading up to my visit? Yeah, why not? “Maybe I’m just grasping at straws, but I’ve received several threatening phone calls warning me to stay out of the investigation.”

  “No kidding.” His voice rose. “What does Jim say about you trying to get information and about the calls?”

  “He doesn’t like my getting involved. He only knows about one call. I haven’t had a chance to tell him about the one today. But I’m determined to find out who killed Anne. By the time this is over Jim and I may be divorced.” I smiled in an effort to not sound serious. Mentally I cringed. It might not be a joke.

  “Aw, come on. He just doesn’t want you to mess up his investigation.” He chuckled, but the levity didn’t extend to his eyes. “Besides, it’s dangerous. You could be hurt.”

  Does every man believe I will be in danger by investigating on my own? And from whom? My brother? My grip on the arm of the chair tightened. “He isn’t handling the case,” I snapped. “The department removed him because the higher-ups believe there would be a conflict of interest since he’s married to the sister of their prime suspect.”

  “I can tell you’re pretty frustrated about the situation.” He gently patted my hand, his touch remaining a little too long for comfort. Perhaps, sensing my discomfort he removed his hand.

  “I’m sorry, Greg. Yes, I am frustrated, but I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” His expression turned pensive and even a little sad. “Every year on April Fools Day I think about the night of her murder and berate myself for not going in with her.”

  “Believe me you’re not alone there. Like you, the fact that I was one of the last people to see her alive continues to haunt me.”

  He looked doubtful. “But Susan, I just don’t believe I can be of much help to you. Although thinking about it for a while might help the memories come back to me.”

  I didn‘t intend to take no for an answer. “Will you think about it?”

  “Sure, give me your phone number and I’ll call you if I come up with something.”

  I gave him my home and my cell numbers. “By the way, whatever made you leave the city and move out here to all this urban sprawl?” Hopefully he took my question in a joking manner.

  “You want the honest truth?”

  “Of course,” I said, wondering about the serious expression on his face.

  “I was tired of all the falseness and back stabbing from the old crowd. Present company and Lisa Olivier accepted,” he added quickly. “I moved out to Jefferson Parish to a nice middle class neighborhood. Don’t know if you can understand the concept or not since you never left.”

  “Oh, I understand perfectly. But I can’t figure out why Trey Williamson has an office in this building. He never impressed me as the type to want to leave the old social circle even if it’s just his business.”

  “No telling what his motives were for coming to Metairie in the first place, but he no longer has a suite here. He moved his financial consulting business into a much larger office back in town. It’s in one of those building on Poydras. He left about a week ago.” He regarded me with skepticism. “You don’t think he’s involved in Anne’s death, do you?”

  “Let’s put it this way, strange incidents have taken place in the last few days, which I won’t go into, but it wouldn’t surprise me if he was.”

  “You’re getting in over your head trying to prove anything on him. Trey has a lot of influence in the city; mainly because of his father.”

  “Tell me about it,” I said with sarcasm.

  “Watch yourself dealing with him.”

  “I will. Well, let me get out of your way.” I smiled in an attempt to lighten the mood. I didn’t succeed, at least not with my mood any way. I left his office disappointed and without much hope of any mind-shaking new info
rmation from him.

  Back at home, I pulled the box of newspaper clippings from my closet and began sifting through them. Shuffling through the articles about Anne’s murder and a lot of photographs taken during social events helped me pass away most of the day. Unfortunately I couldn’t come up with anything new so I put everything back in the box and mulled over a few options for supper.

  Chicken and sausage jambalaya sounded pretty good, and I could make enough to freeze some of it for future use. I walked into the kitchen and pulled a package of chicken and another of hot sausage out of the freezer to thaw. Setting them on the counter, I gathered up the rest of my ingredients.

  About seven, my house phone rang. I expected another one of those ridiculous warning calls. Thankfully it wasn’t.

  “Hey, this is Greg. I might have something for you.”

  He sounded like he could be on his cell phone. I could hear traffic noises in the background. “You remembered more about the incident we discussed earlier?” I couldn’t deny how excited I was.

  “Yeah, but don’t get your hopes up too high,” he said. “What I remember hearing could be interpreted a number of different ways.”

  “Tell me anyway,” I said.

  “I remember going to get us more drinks when Michael and John started their talk. I heard Michael say something to the effect, ‘don’t worry, everything will work out’. John answered he didn’t see how it could now. I’m not positive on this, but it seemed like the rest of his response was he hated the whole idea in the first place.”

  “You’re right. They could have been talking about John’s marriage, except possibly for the last part.”

  “I could’ve been mistaken about what he said. Let me meditate on this a little more. Maybe I can come up with something more substantial.”

  “You’re a doll, Greg.”

  He laughed. “Don’t let Jim hear you say such things. I don’t like the idea of a cop coming after me. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Thanks.” I felt a tingle in my stomach. The party conversation could be a very important clue.

  After we ended the call, the cat joined me on the sofa and curled up beside me, purring loudly. I absentmindedly stroked her long silky fur while considering the little bit of conversation Greg overheard at the party. Of course, I desperately wanted to believe the two men weren’t talking about John’s marriage, but it seemed likely they were, bearing in mind my brother’s fling with John’s wife. Taking into consideration Mary Catherine’s absence from the party, I suspected she and Steven spent the evening together.