by A. C. Mason
“You obviously had a really great time in Paris. Every time you mention the city there’s excitement in your voice.”
Melanie blushed.
“Hmmm,” I said. “He must have been a hunk.”
She laughed. “Now that you mention it…he was. But don’t tell Michael,” she added, her expression sobering.
I wondered about the significance of the sudden change in her demeanor with the mention of her husband, but acted as if I hadn’t noticed. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.” I started flipping through the photos, taking a closer look at the pictures snapped inside the Moulin Rouge.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Melanie said, reaching inside her purse. “I found a list of names and addresses of everyone on the tour. When I came by the other day you asked me about them.” She handed the list to me.
I scanned the names but no one jumped out at me. All the women made their debut with us, but most of them I didn’t fraternize with except at the cocktail or dinner parties attended prior to my marriage to Jim. Dummy me expected the name of Anne’s killer to appear in flashing neon lights.
“Pretty big group,” I commented, hoping my disappointment didn’t show in my voice.
“Yes and there’s another tour planned for the end of August. Maybe you’d like to go too.”
“I’d love to, but…” This would be my opportunity to spill the beans about my upcoming move to Cypress Lake. “There’s something I should tell you.” I carefully laid the European photos on the back of the sofa.
“What?” she asked. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”
“No, but would that be so terrible?” I asked, surprised.
“Not really, but having a baby at thirty five could be a difficult pregnancy.”
“So I’ve heard, although I wouldn’t be upset to be pregnant. Anyway, Jim and I are moving out of New Orleans. He’s accepted a position as the chief of police of Cypress Lake.”
Her eyes grew round like saucers. “Where is Cypress Lake?” She sounded horrified.
“It’s in Allemand Parish. The town is only about fifty miles away from the rat race of the city. It should be nice and peaceful. I’m looking forward to the move.” God, I am such a hypocrite. Like moving to this wide spot in the road never caused me to lose any sleep. After the big fuss I made about the place, I should be ashamed.
“You can’t be serious,” she said.
“Very serious. I admit the idea didn’t appeal to me at first, but Lisa told me she’d been to the town recently and stayed at a cute Bed and Breakfast. The way she described the place, it resembles a less developed Madisonville or Mandeville.”
I paused a moment to let my news sink in. At the mention of those North Shore suburbs her incredulity diminished somewhat. “Jim is originally from the area so securing this job meant a lot to him.”
“You really love him, don’t you?”
Her question, though possibly rhetorical, came as a surprise and I wondered why she would even ask. “Of course I love him. He’s my husband. Don’t you feel the same about Michael?”
Melanie lowered her eyes for a moment. She slowly moved her gaze back to my face. “Truthfully, no, I don’t love him.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I waited to see if she would elaborate.
She emitted a deep sigh. “It’s my turn to tell you something you should know.”
I frowned. “What do you mean? This has something to do with your marriage?”
“There are more people involved besides me and Michael. I’m not sure how to begin.” She fingered the hem of her blouse like a security blanket.
“Why don’t you start at the beginning?” I couldn’t imagine what direction this was headed, but it made me curious and also a little bit nervous.
“About ten years ago, John Durand, Trey Williamson, along with Michael and Steven decided they all needed more excitement in their marriages. Having sex with the same woman was boring, I guess, so they formed a swingers group.”
“You mean wife swapping?”
“Basically, except I said I wouldn’t have any part of such a thing.”
“What about Anne?”
“I’m not sure Steven ever approached her with the idea. He probably knew she wouldn’t go for it.”
“So if neither you nor Anne agreed to participate that would be two women short and since Amanda is Michael’s sister…” I let my words trail off.
“From what he told me, the men convinced several single women they knew to join them.”
This was getting curioser and curioser. My apologies to Alice and the White Rabbit. “Who were they?”
“I don’t know and to tell the truth I didn’t want to know.”
Forget curious, this whole story was downright bizarre. “Steven and Michael went ahead with this even though you and Anne weren’t in on the deal?”
She nodded. “Michael told me he was going to participate whether I liked it or not. He gave me the impression he imagined all the women would be chasing after him. Probably John and Trey felt the same way about themselves. Anyway, the plan backfired on them because all the women in the group fell in love with Steven. According to Amanda, Mary Catherine used to rave about how great he was in bed.”
Hearing about my brother’s sexual prowess didn’t fall under the category of ‘need to know’. “Is that why you’ve been so adamant about Steven’s guilt?”
“Yes,” she said. “Can you blame me?”
“I suppose not.” I shook my head in disbelief. “What I don’t understand is why they needed more excitement at that time. Y’all were all in your twenties and hadn’t been married but a year or two.”
“This idea seems to have been hatched during a guy’s night out. They were all drunk. Who knows, they may also have smoked some marijuana or done some other drugs.”
“I believe it. The whole idea sounds very much like a drug induced plan created by a bunch of college boys. How long did this go on?”
She hesitated for a good while before she answered. “The swapping, swinging, or whatever you want to call those obscene acts stopped right after Anne’s murder.”
My stomach flipped. “So, it lasted for about a year.”
She acknowledged my assessment with a nod. “That perpetuated my belief Steven killed her, or else one of his women lovers did.”
“There are a number of things puzzling me,” I said. “After learning about all this, why did you continue to socialize and still maintain contact with these women?”
“I didn’t want the stigma of a divorce then, so I only partied with them if a whole crowd of people were going to attend the event, and still do it that way.”
“You associated with Amanda and still do. Why not cut the relationship completely?”
“I simply didn’t want any of this to go public.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about the swinger group before Anne was killed?”
“Because you weren’t married at the time, and were dating Greg so I figured you…”
“Might be one of the single women involved?” I interrupted.
“Yes, and if you weren’t, this business didn’t concern you.”
“Why tell me now?”
She avoided looking directly at me and centered her gaze on the floor. “Selfishness, I suppose. I’m considering filing for a divorce from Michael and I needed to get this off my chest. We used to be close and the subject could be of significance to you right now because of Steven.”
“You hoped this information would make me reconsider my belief about his innocence?”
“Not at all,” she said.
I found her denial weak. “Just because he participated in this group doesn’t mean he killed his wife.”
“The accusation I made that day at Garden House about a woman being involved could be true. One of those women who slept with him could’ve killed Anne without Steven’s knowledge.”
“That’s the conclusion I’ve come to,” I said curtly. “Nothing will
convince me otherwise. I find it difficult to believe your views about Steven have changed simply because you’re getting a divorce. Tell me this. Why get a divorce now for an incident that happened ten years ago?”
“There’s something else going on now. I don’t know what but I’ve been able to catch little bits of conversation between Michael and John, and occasionally Trey. They mention Anne and how they want Steven to be convicted of the murder.” Melanie paused and studied my face. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” She gathered the photos and the tour member list and hurriedly stuffed the items into her purse. In a matter of minutes, she was out the door, in her car, and driving away.
Angry and confused, I couldn’t think straight. Did someone put her up to this visit? And if so, what did they hope to accomplish by it? Most important, did all this really happen? The part about the conversations between her husband and his cohorts was entirely plausible. I’d heard them myself. If the hour of the day were later, a good stiff drink would be in order. I got up anyway and went to the kitchen. A piece of chocolate might be a good substitute.
A search through my candy stash drawer provided me with a chocolate toffee bar. Returning to the den, I munched on the chocolate and moaned with delight at the seductive taste. I started to sit but my glance caught an object on the opposite end of the sofa. One of the photos had escaped Melanie’s grasp when she grabbed them in such a hurry. I checked out the picture and my eyes went directly to one particular woman seated at the long table with the rest of the group. The surprise discovery made my heart thump. Her name wasn’t on the list of people who went on the tour!
Seventeen
Lisa didn’t answer, so I left a voice mail message. Using a magnifying glass I verified the identity of the woman in the photo. It was Lisa, no doubt about it. Why wasn’t she on the list of tour members? Mentally I recalled the other photos with group shots in different European locations and I didn’t remember seeing her in any of them, only in the one taken inside the Moulin Rouge.
I figuratively slapped myself on the forehead. Of course! Lisa happened to be in Paris for one of those art shows—she mentioned three or four trips there—and she probably joined the women at the French nightspot. Did she have one of those bracelets?
My cell rang and interrupted my thoughts. Lisa was returning my call.
“Hey,” she said. “What’s up?”
“There’s a question I wanted to ask you. I believe I already know the answer but here goes anyway. Did you ever go on a tour with the other women in the Deb group?”
Lisa laughed. “I never went on a guided tour with anyone in my life. Tours are too restrictive. There was one occasion when I happened to be in Paris—possible the 2003 trip—Mary Catherine, Amanda, and the gang ended their tour in Paris and I joined them for drinks at the Moulin Rouge. Is that the answer you were expecting?”
My turn to laugh. “Yes, I figured it out after I made the call to you.”
“What brought on the inquiry into my travels?”
“Melanie showed me a bunch of photos from the trip and I spotted you in one of the shots. But your name wasn’t on the list of tour members.”
“Did Melanie tell you I was on the tour with them?”
“No, this particular photo slipped out of the pack when she gathered them up to leave. She didn’t realize it at the time because she left in a huff, and I found it on the sofa afterwards.”
“You must have hurt her feelings, or made her mad,” she said.
“Both of those might be accurate. I’m not even going to go into it right now.” Melanie had a lot of nerve, revealing such a story. The ridiculous tale precipitated hot flashes, and I’m too young to be menopausal.
“What was she doing at your house anyway? I thought you two were on the outs.”
“We have been. Melanie firmly believes Steven is guilty. She came by here the day I was released from the hospital. I enjoyed her visit so I felt we could rise above our differences. She is my cousin and we used to be close. I invited her to come over. It was a bad idea. Her opinion about Steven was the same as it has been. I didn’t mince words.”
“What did she say to set you off?”
Remembering Jim’s warning about giving away details, I decided I’d already said too much. So I told a fib of sorts. “Oh just the usual stuff about how she based her opinion of his guilt on all his affairs.”
“Ouch!”
“Tell me about it.”
“Would you like to go to lunch and forget your troubles for a while?” Lisa asked.
“That would be nice but Jim will be home around noon. We’ve got a lot to discuss. Today is his last day with NOPD.”
“How exciting. When does he start the new job?”
“Not until May first. There’s a lot to take care of before we move…almost too much to digest.”
“Moving to a new town can be daunting.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “The idea is a bit scary, especially since I’ve never lived anywhere else but New Orleans.”
“I would imagine the timing of this move couldn’t have come at a worst time considering the business with Steven.”
“No time is a good time as far as that is concerned. Even if we weren’t moving, my life would still be in turmoil.”
“Do you and Steven have ESP? I’ve always heard twins connect in ways non-twin siblings don’t.”
“Sometimes we share the same ideas, but if we were twins of the same sex, especially identical, our bond would be closer.”
“So you don’t know what he’s thinking right now,” she said, teasing.
I laughed. “No, but I sure do wish that was true. Oh, I almost forgot to ask. Did you buy one of those charms when you met the gang at the Moulin Rouge?”
“If you mean the famous windmill charm, absolutely not.” She chuckled. “They tried to persuade me to buy one but I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing a charm bracelet.”
“I thought so. Charm bracelets are rather juvenile.”
Jim arrived home shortly after Lisa and I ended our call. He was all smiles at what he considered his first breath of freedom. As naïve as I can be at times, I knew his liberation could be short lived once he stepped into his new job. Being the chief of police or a supervisor of any kind had many more responsibilities than an underling. Naturally he didn’t see it that way. After I told him about Melanie’s visit and her story about the swingers group, he lost his smile.
“Do you believe her?” he asked.
“I don’t know. In some ways it sounds plausible, but there’s also a nagging doubt in my mind.”
“What is it about her story you find difficult to believe?”
“When this supposed swinger group came into being—about a year or so before Anne’s murder, all the guys were in their mid-twenties, and their wives or significant others were also. Maybe I’m a dummy, but I can’t fathom why they would need more excitement in their sex lives at that point in time. The couples involved hadn’t even been married a year.”
Jim laughed. “Maybe the honeymoon didn’t last very long.”
I smiled. “Not like ours anyway.”
“It’s not over yet,” he said, planting a big kiss on my lips.
“Hmmm, are you trying to distract me?”
“Hell, yes.”
“As tempting as you are, right now I have to find out if this story is for real.”
He shot me a faux look of disappointment at not falling for his seduction tactics. “How do you propose to do that?”
“Talk to Steven.”
“Meeting with your brother is not advisable. He’s only one step away from being arrested for murder.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, alarmed.
“The evidence against him, while circumstantial, is pretty damning. The DA will most likely decide there’s enough to charge him. Besides do you really believe he’s going to admit to anything? He won’t even tell you who he was with that night.”
“I believe this accusation will
get him talking,” I said, trying to sound confident. Jim might be one hundred percent correct about Steven. So far my brother hadn’t budged.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” he said and hesitated a moment. “He’s the only person who doesn’t have an alibi.”
“What about Mary Catherine and Trey? They weren’t at the party.”
“Both of them have alibis.”
“How is that possible?” I asked, incredulous.
“Trey claims he was at the party and his wife backed him up. So did a number of other people.”
“They’re lying,” I said under my breath. “And Mary Catherine? She claimed to be sick. What kind of alibi could she have? Her husband was at the party.”
“John Durand installed an elaborate security system with cameras on all sides of his Bayou St. John home back in the late 90’s. When I originally investigated the murder Mary Catherine interested me as a suspect because of the rumors about her affair with Steven. John showed me the tapes from the cameras for the night in question and she never left the house.”
“Couldn’t the tape have been doctored?”
“An expert examined the tape and reported no signs of doctoring.”
My hopes deflated like air out of a balloon.
“If you think Steven will open up to you, give it a try,” Jim said. “I’d prefer to go with you but I doubt he would say anything at all in my presence.”
“You’re so right. But are you okay with me talking to him?”
“Not really. But if you truly believe he’s innocent, this is something you have to do. When I’m working on a case I make every attempt to seek out all the evidence no matter how insignificant it may seem. Talking to the suspect sometimes turns up one little piece of information to eliminate the person completely or…could indicate just the opposite.”
“So why don’t you want me to talk to him?”
“Suppose he still won’t say who he spent the night with? You’re going to be frustrated. On the other hand something he tells you might make you decide he really is guilty. Either way you’re going to be devastated by the results.”