Chapter Two
It was just after five that afternoon when Angelique carried her small suitcase from Dominque’s place to her home in Mystique’s shanty. Dread rose as a bitter taste in the back of her throat when she unlocked the front door and stepped inside.
She set the suitcase down and then stood for a long moment and stared at her mother’s bedroom door. She needed to see the room and exorcise the memory of the last time she had seen her mother there. Her fingers trembled with emotion as she walked over and took hold of the doorknob.
She had no idea in what condition the police had left the room. With a deep breath, she opened the door. The mattress was now bare. Apparently, the police had taken the sheets and blanket with them as evidence when they had left.
It didn’t smell like murder in here, rather the air still held the lingering soft lavender and vanilla scent of her mother. Grief squeezed Angelique’s chest.
Considering the police had thoroughly searched the room, it was in surprisingly good shape. The only thing missing was Mystique. Once again Angelique’s heart squeezed tight. She stepped back out of the room and closed the door behind her.
There was one other room she needed to check out. It was the smallest of the bedrooms and had been the room where her mother met her clients. The round table there was covered with a deep purple cloth and there were two chairs, one on either side.
A large scarf with images of the sun and moon and stars covered one of the walls, and there was a bookshelf next to where her mother would sit. The shelves held jars of salve, lotions and potions that she’d used, along with herbs and plants and other items.
This room had been searched as well. She could tell because some of the items were out of place. Again, she was pleased that at least the police hadn’t trashed the room in an effort to search it for clues.
She went back to the front door, picked up her suitcase and then went into her bedroom. It was also a relatively small room, but she’d always found it cozy and comfortable.
There was a double bed, a dresser and two nightstands. The bed was covered in a lilac-colored spread and the single window held matching curtains. As she unpacked her things, her mind whirled in a million directions.
A renewed grief took hold of her and for several minutes she sat on the edge of her bed and wept. She’d tried so hard not to cry in front of her sisters, but now the suppressed tears from the past week fell.
She didn’t know how long she wept before she finally managed to pull herself together. It was now close to six o’clock, and she had no idea what time Chief LeCroix might come by. And he’d better show up, she thought with a touch of anger.
She needed to know just how committed he was, to not only solving this crime but also keeping her up-to-date as to where the investigation was going. She had a right to know everything that was being done to find the killer.
However, she knew he was right that she shouldn’t go running amok through his investigation, but over the past week she hadn’t seen much of an investigation on his end happening.
Once her tears dried, she went out the back door to the deck that surrounded the shanty. She started up the generator that was usually run during her work and dinnertime.
She went back inside and plugged her phone in to charge and then pulled out a two-burner cooktop from under a kitchen cabinet.
She hadn’t eaten much of the catered food earlier, and now a pang of hunger shot off in the pit of her stomach.
There was no refrigerator, only a cooler packed with blocks of ice to keep things cold.
Over the past week of her being gone, the ice had melted and the only thing that could be salvaged was a half a dozen eggs and some stale bread. Dinner was scrambled eggs and toast.
She cleaned up the mess and then moved into the living room, where she sank down on the sofa, her thoughts turning to Daniel LeCroix.
There was no question that he was one of the handsomest men she had ever seen.
He had a reputation as a fair and just lawman.
It had truly been a low blow for her to intimate that maybe he wasn’t doing a thorough investigation because they were swamp people.
From everything she’d heard, he was completely unbiased and treated both swamp and town people with the same level of respect.
She got back up and walked over to the bookcase that held dozens of books about swamps. She picked out one that she knew had been one of her mother’s favorites and then settled back on the sofa to read.
It was one thing to read about plants in the swamp, but quite another to know where, exactly, in the swamp to find them. Among other things, she would miss her mother’s teachings on such things.
She read for about an hour and then closed the book and began to pace the floor, her thoughts once again a tangled mess inside her head.
Who had killed her mother? And why? Why had this happened? Who could have wanted her dead, and in such a violent way? So many questions and no answers.
And when was Daniel going to arrive here to tell her what he’d accomplished that day to get her those answers?
It was almost nine o’clock when a knock fell on her door. She opened it and sighed with relief at the sight of him. She’d begun to think he wasn’t going to show up at all, but he was here.
“Chief LeCroix,” she said.
“Miss Santori.” He nodded his head in a curt greeting.
“Please come in.” She opened the door wider to allow him entry. As he swept past her, she caught the scent of his cologne. It was a fresh, woodsy scent with a hint of a citrus note. She immediately found it very attractive.
She gestured him to sit on the gray sofa while she sat in the matching chair across from him. Even though it was the end of the day, he still looked crisp and fresh in his uniform. She didn’t offer him anything to drink. This wasn’t a social call…this was strictly business.
“So, fill me in,” she said as she leaned forward.
He raised a dark brow. “No good evening or how are you doing? No banalities at all?”
“I’m more of a get-to-the point kind of a gal,” she replied.
“I’ll keep that in mind in the future,” he replied. He leaned back, and for the first time she noticed the tired lines at the outer corners of his beautiful blue eyes.
Despite that, his masculine presence seemed to fill the entire room. His energy radiated from him and it appeared that he commanded the space around him.
“I want to know what you did today, but I also want to know what you’ve done for the past week,” she said. “Please,” she added softly.
“As you know, it took several days for us to process the scene here. While my officers were doing that, I interviewed you and both your sisters. You all gave me a couple of names to follow up with, and so the next person I spoke to was Nola Fontenot, who you all indicated was one of Mystique’s best friends. ”
“And what did you learn from her?” Angelique asked.
“Not a lot. She was quite distraught when we spoke to her and had very little to offer us at that time. After that, we interviewed Corrine Fortier, who Nola told us was a frequent visitor of your mother’s. We also spoke to Helene Benoit, another client of your mother’s.”
“Do you really believe a woman killed her?” Angelique asked curiously. It was so hard to believe that a woman could have murdered her mother in such a heinous manner.
“At this point I don’t know what to believe.
Nola gave us some names of other women she knew who had dealings with your mother, but that was all we got out of her during our initial interview.
” He mentioned a few more women he’d spoken to over the past week.
“Most of the people we talked to had solid alibis for the night of her murder.”
“What was the time of the murder?” Had it occurred only minutes before Angelique had gotten home? If she’d come home earlier, would she have been able to stop the murder from happening. She hadn’t heard from anyone what the exact time of her mother’s death had been.
“The coroner fixed her time of death at around ten o’clock,” he replied.
“If only we hadn’t gone out that night,” Angelique said as a new burst of grief tightly squeezed her heart. “If only I’d stayed home.”
“Don’t do that to yourself, Angelique.” His voice was deep and soft. “Don’t take on any blame for what happened. There’s only one person to blame in this, and that’s the killer. I swear we’re going to find that person, Angelique.”
“You promise?” Tears misted her vision, but she swallowed hard against them so they wouldn’t fall. The last thing she wanted to do was cry in front of Daniel LeCroix.
“I promise,” he replied, a steely determination in his voice that comforted her. “This afternoon we spoke with Nola once again, and she had a couple more names for us.”
“Like who?” she asked.
“Charles Lathrop. She remembered your mother talking about him. Apparently, he came to her for a love spell.”
“Is it possible the spell didn’t work and so he was angry? Angry enough to kill her…to slash her throat?” she asked.
“That’s what we need to find out. We tried to chase him down today, but yesterday he left town on business. He’s supposed to be back on Friday. So, we’ll catch up with him sometime tomorrow.”
“I was usually in my room when I knew somebody was coming to speak to Mama. Most of the time I didn’t know who she was seeing.” She frowned. “I should have paid more attention to who was coming and going from here.”
“There you go, blaming yourself again,” he chided.
She smiled at him and when he returned the gesture, a spark of attraction shot off inside her. The man had an amazing smile that revealed his straight, white teeth and lit up all his features. “So, what other names did Nola come up with?” she asked.