Chapter 12
Grace
Blaze stood next to me in charcoal jeans, a white t-shirt, and a suit jacket. I think he wore the jacket because he was on his way to a meeting at BBH. It was his effort at looking corporate. He needn”t have bothered. With his long hair, earrings, and tattoos, no way in hell was this guy gonna look like the business suit type, even if he wore one.
Lucien Doucet was buried in the Doucet family plot in the St. Louis Cemetery No. 1, which was established in 1789 and was one of the oldest and most famous resting places in New Orleans.
Tourists flocked to the cemetery to admire the historic above-ground vaults and tombs that embodied the unique burial customs of New Orleans. The cemetery was home to notable historic icons like Marie Laveau, the Voodoo Queen of New Orleans; Homer Plessy, who challenged Louisiana”s state laws segregating railcars; and the infamous Delphine LaLaurie known for her mansion in the French Quarter, and the gruesome tales of mistreating slaves, her story now a part of New Orleans” lore haunted house tours.
”I hate that we have to do this,” Blaze muttered.
I”d never expected him to be a sentimentalist. But like they say, don”t judge a book by its cover. I”d also not expected him to be a man who lost his shit because his little sister was getting teary-eyed because of hormones.
It was an unseasonable warm day in March, and the air was heavy, not just with the humidity that clung to everything but with the weight of the moment—unearthing secrets that might have been buried alongside the grand Lucien Doucet.
”I know.” I put a hand on his arm, and he turned to face me.
”I”ve loved very few people in my life,” he confessed somberly. ”Gaia Zephyr, Rome, and now Nick. But before they were even born, I loved my father and Grandpère. After my father died, Grandpère disappeared from my life, and when I grew older, I left him. I came to see him a month before he passed.”
”How did that conversation go?”
He tucked his hands in his pockets, staring at the Doucet family vault. ”I forgave him. He asked me to, and I did. If I hadn”t, it would”ve been harder to come back, and I may have lost Nick even before I found her. So, I owe the old sumbitch.” He wiped his face with his hands. ”Merdé, I didn”t expect to feel this way.”
”Let me walk you through the process. Hopefully, that will help. First,” I started, my voice steady despite the swirl of emotions around us, ”they”ll carefully remove the earth covering the vault.”
In New Orleans, bodies are buried above ground in vaults because of the high-water table. The Doucets” plots were some of the oldest and well-maintained here, which made this a bit easier.
Blaze nodded, his eyes fixed on the workers who had started their work. The sound of their tools a soft echo among the tombs.
”Once the vault is accessible, they”ll open it to remove the casket,” I continued. ”It”s a delicate process, but the team has experience. They know what they”re doing.”
His jaw clenched at that, and I knew the reality of what we were doing—what he was hoping to find—sunk in. If his grandfather was murdered, it was a hundred times worse than if he”d died of natural causes.
”After the exhumation, the casket will be transported to the medical examiner”s office for the autopsy. Since Lucien was assumed to have died from cancer, and no autopsy was conducted at the time, this is where we”ll start looking for any signs of foul play.”
”And how long before we have results?” Blaze asked, his voice tight.
”It can vary,” I replied. I took his hand in mine, wanting to offer comfort, and squeezed lightly. ”The examination itself could take a few days, considering they”ll need to be thorough, given the circumstances and the time that has passed. Then, there”s the toxicology report, which can take a few weeks more. It”s a waiting game, I”m afraid.”
”And then?””And then we will bring him back to his resting place with the same solemnity as when he was first buried,” I assured him.
He took my hand to his mouth and kissed it. ”Thanks, Grace.”
”As soon as the medical examiner has any findings, they”ll let us know,” I added, trying to offer some comfort. ”We”re doing the right thing, Blaze. If there”s truth to be found, we”ll find it.”
We both turned when we heard footsteps. ”I”m so sorry I”m late.” We turned to see Nick all but running to her fiancée. I saw the relief in Blaze as he opened his arms, and Nick was in them. He buried his face in her neck, not caring that people were watching him being vulnerable.
They stood together as the work continued, a meticulous ballet of precision and respect for the dead.
I felt like we were on the cusp of unraveling a mystery that had lingered over the Doucet family for far too long. Whatever the outcome, it was a journey we were taking together, step by step, into the light of truth. The answers we”d find for questions that we”d not even asked would not all be pleasant, but at least they”d be honest. I hoped that would offer relief to the family.
I went to the ME”s office with the body. It was never easy to ask a family to exhume one of their loved ones. It opened up old wounds and then, based on what we found, created whole new ones.
Did I believe that Lucien was murdered because Camille said so? Yes, I did. She”d run, hadn”t she? And now was in hiding. There was no APB out on her, so no one was looking for her per se. But I had a feeling the Doucets knew where she was and was letting her find her way back to them. Did I think that Camille was the lynchpin to this whole mess that the Doucet family was in with the Volkovs? Yes, I did. I also believe that her partner in this was Henri Allard. I knew that none of the Doucets, not one single one of them, would be convinced about Henri”s culpability unless they saw the proof with their own eyes. I didn”t blame them for that because the truth was, I had no evidence whatsoever. But every time I”d met the man, he gave me a feeling that he was not on the up and up. A gut feeling was not admissible in a court of law.
When I got to my office, I called Ash. I had an investigator in the DA”s office, but what I needed to do had to happen on the way down low.
For our meeting, I chose a spot conveniently located near both the District Attorney”s office and the NOPD Headquarters. I made sure it was not a cop or lawyer hangout.
I loved the Sazerac Bar inside the iconic Roosevelt Hotel. With its murals depicting the history of New Orleans, the bar exuded a timeless elegance—the kind of place where whispers of the past seemed to mingle with the clink of glasses in the present. Growing up in New Orleans with a mother who worked as a clerk in the high school we all went to; I”d never have dreamed about being able to walk into the Roosevelt Hotel and be treated like someone who had a right to be here.
When I returned to New Orleans, I stayed at the hotel for a whole month, not caring how much money I spent because it felt damn good to throw it at the city where I”d been the half-Creole, half-white kid who didn”t know who her father was. Mama had gotten knocked up, and she never said by whom. When she died, I moved to Sacramento, ready to move the hell away from a city that had treated us like dirt. But when the time came, I wanted to return to N”awlins regardless of how we”d been treated because whether I liked it or not, this city was home—with its history.
The bartender waved to me. ”Where you at, Miss Grace?”
”Hi, Osias, how”s it going?”
”It”s been goin” good, cher. What can I get you?”
After the day I”d had, I needed a drink, as a relaxer and for fortification. I was here to ask Ash for a huge favor. I was worried he”d turn me down, but I had to ask him first before I tried other avenues. I trusted Ash; if I went to someone else I”d be taking a risk.
I looked around and nodded at Ash, who was tucked away in a corner booth. He was nursing what looked like the bar”s signature Sazerac, the amber liquid catching the soft glow of the art deco lighting.
”I”ll have what he”s having,” I told him.
Ash rose and gave me a hug. We sat down across from one another. ”Thanks so much for coming.”
Ash raised his glass. ”You payin” for drinks, sugah, it”s all good.”
”Nick did say you were cheap.”
He laughed. ”Well, darlin”, what can I do you for?”
I waited for Osias to bring me my drink so we could talk without interruptions. While it came along, we made small talk. I used to not know how to do that, but two years of being Mrs. Liam Carta had taught me a hell of a lot about how to dress, how to move around in society, and how to hide bruises.
”Thanks, Osias.” I smiled at him and took a sip of my Sazerac. I loved how they made it here—a potent mix of rye whiskey, absinthe, a sugar cube, and Peychaud”s Bitters.
As the soft strains of jazz filled the air, blending seamlessly with the low murmur of conversations around us, I leaned on the table. ”I need your help,” I announced.
Ash always had a lazy look about him, like he was sprawled out every time he sat down. When he walked, it was a stroll with a swagger. But then he”d shot the infamous Vory Zakone, the bullet going right between the man”s eyes while Ash had been down, hurt himself. I knew all that laissez les bons temps rouler shit he pulled was a fa?ade.
”I”ll do what I can.”
I liked Ash. When I first saw him with all the beautiful blond good looks, I wondered if I was attracted to him. He”d hit on me, but that was Ash; he hit on…as he once put it, people to whom he was attracted. Ash didn”t just sleep with women, and he was open about it. That kind of easy sexuality was seductive for someone whose initiation to sex had been with a man who”d become her abuser—now, sex and violence seemed to be somehow connected in my head. I had been working on it with a therapist before I left California and found a therapist in N”awlins.
”You can”t tell anyone about this.”
He cocked an eyebrow. ”Clarify.”
”Not even Nick.” He was asking about his partner; I knew that.
He thought about it for a long moment and shook his head. ”No, can”t do, Grace. Partners who hide stuff from each other end up dead.”
I took a deep breath. ”I wouldn”t ask if it wasn”t important.”
”No,” he said firmly.
God! The loyalty. I”d seen that with the Doucets for each other, and now Ash had the same for Nick. What the hell was wrong with me that I had no such person in my life? No one who”d be in my corner no matter what.
I took a sip of my drink, the complex flavors of the Sazerac reminding me of the complexities of the situation. ”I need to keep this off everyone”s radar.”
Ash”s expression hardened slightly, the lines around his eyes deepening. ”Let me buy you a drink, Grace, and we walk out of here. I don”t mind doin” something off the books; I”m fine with that. NOPD doesn”t need to know all my shit. But Nick? No fuckin” way.”
I sighed. I knew it would come to this.
”After I tell you what I need, you can decide if you want to tell Nick or not.” It was a shitty compromise, but what else was there?
Ash raised his chin in a go-ahead, spill-your-guts gesture.
”I want Henri Allard investigated,” I started, my fingers absently tracing the rim of my glass. ”I know the Doucets love him and think he”s surrogate Daddy, but I feel like—”
”Fuck yeah, finally!”
I stared at him in surprise. ”What?”
”He fuckin” rubs me the wrong way, sugah. I can”t tell you how many times I”m wonderin” what the hell he is up to. We go talk to Camille Doucet, and he shows up. We”re investigating Zakone; Allard says he knows about a dirty cop from the chief. Blaze and Zephyr have a massive blind spot when it comes to him…but I”ll tell you straight up, it”s taken a minute for Nick to get there, but she and I, we”re on the same page with you on that motherfucker.”
Right about then, anyone could have knocked me down with a feather. I thought I was alone in how I felt, but…maybe my gut was not way off if two seasoned detectives agreed with me.
”Why haven”t you looked into him then?” I asked.
Ash chuckled. ”Been busy, sugah. You know that. And it”s just Nick and I shootin” the shit. Nothin” more. But if the ADA wants us to look into him, we will.”
”No one can know. I don”t want anyone, especially the Doucets, to get a heads up.”
”No shit. They”ll shut us down quicker than a rattlesnake can strike.”
I relaxed, feeling my shoulders slump. ”I need his finances looked into. How”s he been making his money? I know he has his own practice, but from what I can see on the dockets, Henri has not been the lawyer on record for any case except when involving the Doucets.”
Ash considered what I said. ”I asked Rome why Henri wasn”t officially on the BBH payroll. He said that Henri prefers it like that. He has other clients, and though the Doucet family is his biggest…he wants independence.”
”He has no other clients, Ash, not that I can see,” I revealed.
”Okay. I can work with someone on the geek squad to look into his finances” — he raised a hand when I was about to speak — ”and I”ll work with someone who knows how to keep their mouth shut, sugah. Ah been doin” detective work for a long while now.”
I felt horrible that I may have sounded condescending. ”I know. I”m sorry, I didn”t mean to—”
”Christ, Grace, you gotta take it easy, doll. I was teasin”, that”s all.”
I felt gauche with the easy way in which way everyone around me behaved when compared to me. I was never easygoing and couldn”t be with a mother who was emotionally closed off and then as an orphan with an aunt who was equally emotionally challenged. I”d jumped headlong into a relationship with Liam because I was so hungry for affection. I saw his jealousy as love. I saw his possessiveness and control as love. I saw his abuse for a long while, even after I left him as love.
”What else?” Ash prompted.
”Is he having an affair with Camille?”
Ash smirked. ”Nick and I were thinkin” the exact same thing. He”s got her on his arm a lot. Nick asked Blaze, and he laughed so hard that Nick assumed that meant he didn”t think so.”
”How does Z feel about Henri?”
”Same as the others, I reckon.” Ash finished his drink and leaned back. ”Now, Rome…he might have a different opinion.”
”He said anything?”
”No. He says he”s grateful to Henri for helping him as he had Lucien, but somethin” just tells me that Rome would be all in on investigating Henri.”
I panicked. ”No. We can”t bring him in.”
”I know. But if we find something, I think he”ll be the one who can help us.”
I licked my lips. ”How pissed off will the Doucets be?”
”Oh, they”ll hate your ass ”cause I”ll tell ”em you wanted us to investigate,” he replied cheekily. ”If we find somethin”, they”ll thank us, Grace. But right now, they couldn”t imagine that Henri could be the alligator in the crawfish pond.”