CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I arrive home to see police cars in front of the house. I remember the young man who offered to help me when I went a trance on the street. I didn’t tell him the children’s last name, but the Lacroix’s are a prestigious family in New Orleans, and once the police hear their first names, they must know immediately who is missing.
I steel myself for the coming storm. I have a feeling I’ll end this night unemployed. Perhaps that’s for the best. I need to focus on finding Annie, and the dysfunction surrounding this family might be greater than I can handle.
In some ways, this is like the position in Monterey. There, I care for a seventeen-year-old girl, the child of an artist. It turns out that the artist new Annie many years ago, and there is strong evidence to suggest that Annie’s departure from that coastal town triggered the depression that caused his mentor to commit suicide. This, along with the artist’s infatuation with Annie, leaves him deeply depressed and sometimes dissociative. Raising his daughter in that environment causes her to be emotionally stunted, withdrawn and suicidal.
I don’t believe Gabriel is suicidal, but he is withdrawn and prone to dissociation. Amelia is showing signs of diving deeply into rebellion, a path that leads nowhere good. Both children are emotionally stunted, and while neither Josephine nor Etienne are as disturbed as the artist in Monterey was, cracks are showing in Josephine’s facade.
There is no logical connection between the level of dysfunction in these two families and the possibility of my sister’s presence in both cities, but should I discover a connection, it will be one of the least surprising things to happen to me since beginning my search for Annie.
The moment I step in the door, the chaos begins. We walk inside to find Josephine and Etienne talking to two police officers. As soon as Josephine sees the children, she shrieks and rushes to them, wrapping them in a bear hug and weeping loudly.
Etienne sighs with relief and collapses into a squat. “Oh, thank God. Thank God.”
“I’m sorry, Grandma,” Amelia whispers through her tears. “I didn’t mean to.”
Gabriel doesn’t cry. His lips move, and while no sound comes out, I can read the movements well enough to know what he means to say. Did you hear it?
Another chill runs through me, but that chill is dispelled an instant later when Josephine stands and slaps me hard enough that I see stars. I stumble backwards, my hand to my cheek, my mouth open wide.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Josephine cries. “What the hell made you think you could take them outside?”
I’m too stunned to respond, but Amelia comes to my defense. “You said we could go, Grandma! I asked you and you told us, remember?”
“The hell I did!” Josephine cries out. “This bitch took you outside without my permission!”
“That’s not true,” I protest. “You did tell me to take them. I told you it was a bad idea, and you—”
She moves to slap me again, but Etienne grabs her hand. “Children, go to your room.”
“Let’s walk this way, ma’am,” one of the officers says, touching my arm and gesturing for us to step outside.
I follow him, my cheek stinging from the slap. I can’t bring myself to feel angry. I deserve it. It’s true that I only took them out because Josephine instructed me to, but I knew that she wasn’t in her right mind when she gave me permission, and I knew it was a terrible idea to bring children into that environment. I didn’t anticipate that I would have a fugue while watching a street show, but it was my fault for putting myself and them in that position. With a sinking heart, it occurs to me that my own resurging mental health issues are another excellent reason to leave my employ with the family.
I should have just rented a room here and looked for sign of Annie. Looking for a governess position was a mistake. One that could have gotten these children killed.
“What’s your name, ma’am?”
I stir at the officer’s words. “Mary. Mary Wilcox.”
He repeats my name as he writes it down on his notepad. “I’m Officer Nathan,” he tells me when he’s finished. “Can you tell me what happened tonight?”
I swallow. “I… I took the children out to enjoy the street fair. I didn’t want to take them, but Amelia asked her grandmother, and her grandmother said it was all right.”
“And what is your relationship with the Lacroix’s?”
“I’m their governess.”
The officer nods and makes the note. “All right. And do you know why we’re here tonight?”
“Um… I assume the young man called me. The one at the street corner with the dancers.”
He nods. “Yes. We received a call about a woman in severe distress asking for the whereabouts of missing children by the names of Amelia and Gabriel. My watch commander is an amateur jazz musician familiar with the scene in the Garden District. He suggested we contact Miss Josephine. As you see, we did, and we learned that her grandchildren had been missing for some time. She claims not to have given you permission to leave.”
I blink. “Well, as Amelia said, I was given permission to leave. In fact, I was instructed to leave, to take them with me to the fair.”
“I see.” He makes another note, then asks, “So what happened after you left the street corner?”
I am hugely relieved that he doesn’t ask me how I lose the children in the first place. “I followed the crowd. Amelia seemed fascinated by the party, and her brother usually goes where she goes, so I looked for her there. When I found her, she said she had been separated from her brother. I know he adores music and he’s shown a great deal of interest in playing like his grandfather, so I decided to check the club.”
“Which club?”
“The Midnight Melody. That’s the club the Lacroix’s own. I found Gabriel there as expected, and we returned home at once.”
I leave out the part about Vie Apres a la Morts playing at random and driving the patrons and performers from the venue. I also leave out the seemingly sudden appearance of Gabriel behind the piano.
Officer Nathan makes another note, then looks me squarely in the eye. "At any time, did you consider contacting the police?"
Heat climbs my cheeks. “I… I assumed the young man had made the call.”
“And if you’d been wrong?”
“Well… I wasn’t wrong. And I found the children.”
Nathan nods. He does a respectable job of keeping an even tone, but there is judgment in his eyes, another condemnation I absolutely deserve.
Still, I was not wrong to look for the children. "If I had called your department, you would have told me to stay where I was and talk with officers. Then you would have looked for them only after you finished talking with me, and you might not agree that I knew where they would go. At best, it would have delayed their rescue and, at worst, prevented it. I knew where the children would be, so I found them."
Nathan crosses his arms. Thankfully, he seems to be truly weighing my response. “It worked out this time,” he finally admits, “and the only way this could have worked is sheer dumb luck or you actually did know them well enough to track them down. That being said, I think we can both agree that it was irresponsible to take the children to Mardi Gras with only you to watch them. If someone had really wanted to take them from you, you wouldn’t have been able to stop them.”
I lower my eyes and reply softly, “Yes.”
He nods again and says, “Hang tight for me while I talk to the Lacroixs and see what they want to do.”
Another chill runs through me. “Are they going to press charges?”
“We’ll talk to them and see what they want to do,” he repeats.
He walks inside, and I look away from the house to the city beyond. The lights and sounds of Mardi Gras are as loud and boisterous as ever. Even in this quiet residential neighborhood, groups of revelers stumble through the streets, laughing and slurring as they look for more private places to continue the night’s enjoyments. Soft moans in between the louder sounds tell me that some have already found their places.
There are three officers outside of the house. They stand in front of their vehicles, talking in low voices. They pay no mind to the debauchery going on right in front of their faces, but from time to time, they steal a glance at me. For me, they make no attempt to hide their judgment.
After a few minutes, the door opens, and Officer Nathan steps out. Etienne shakes his hand at the door, and Nathan turns to me and nods. “Have a good evening, Miss Wilcox.”
He walks down the porch steps toward his car. The other detective inside says his goodbye to Etienne and follows him. A minute later, the officers pull out of the driveway, and I am alone with Etienne on the porch.
I'm afraid to look him in the eye, but I am a grown woman, and if I am to be dismissed for my mistake, then I will take that dismissal with dignity. I turn to him, intending to apologize, but I stop when I find a pensive look on his face rather than the angry one I expect.
He starts to speak but stops himself several times. Finally, he nearly blurts out, “My mother is not well, Mary. She’s been despondent ever since my father died, and lately it’s affected her perception of reality along with her memory and her decision making. I spoke with the children, and they both confirmed that Amelia pressured my mother into giving you permission to take them to Mardi Gras.” His lips thin a little. “I’m afraid Amelia has learned when to take advantage of my mother’s moods.”
He meets my eyes. "I'm telling you all of this because I want you to feel empowered to deny my grandmother's wishes if necessary to protect the children. Don't allow Amelia—or Gabriel, for that matter—to use her word against yours. I fear… Well, I'll stop there. Thank you for finding them. In the future, if you're ever unsure about something my mother says, feel free to call me."
“I will. And I’m very sorry about all of this. I’m sorry we had to pull you away from your business trip.”
He shrugs, and his face falls further. “It doesn’t matter. That wasn’t going to go through anyway.” He sighs. “Sometimes I really do feel this family is cursed.”
He looks past me at the party, and his lip curls in disgust. Absently, he says, “You can come in now if you want. The children are in bed, and Mother’s cloistered in her room. I’ll stay here until things smooth over, and then I’ll see if I can repair things on the business end. Thank you.”
I bow slightly, then rush inside and head straight to my room. I strip quickly and step into the shower, eager to wash away the stench of the day—both literal and figurative. As the water washes over me, I close my eyes and sigh with relief.
“Do you feel it?”
I shriek at the sound of the voice, but when I spin around, no one is there.