A Twisted Ladder (71 page)

Madeleine curled her fingers around the door handle. “Chances are I won’t ever have a life like that, I know. But at least for right now, I’m not completely alone.”

SHE’D WALKED FOR A
timeless expanse, unsure where to go, disbelieving there might be anywhere
to
go. She’d been afraid to stop. The longer she walked, the more the black vines receded.

She steadied herself and trudged along the sidewalk. She was somewhere at the boundaries of downtown. She realized she’d somehow gotten herself headed back in the direction of the courthouse. A doorway gaped from a brick building, and a gust of stale air brushed her face as she approached. A tavern. Not necessarily an appealing place, but the simple darkness and quiet of it beckoned her inside.

She stepped in, blinded by the contrast in lighting from the street, and worked her way to a table in the back. The tavern was mostly empty. Not quite time for the five o’clock rush though a couple of barflies dotted the counter.

Madeleine reached into her bag and powered up her cell phone as she sank into the farthest chair. She eyed the bartender, who was engaged in conversation with someone at the near end of the bar, a white-haired businessman. Madeleine thought if she’d ever wanted a drink, the time was now. Something good and strong.

But first she sent a text message to Ethan, telling him where she was and asking him to come get her.

Then to her surprise, the bartender walked around the counter and set a glass of some kind of hard alcohol in front of her. She looked up inquisitively.

“From Joe,” he said, hitching a thumb toward the near end of the bar.

The man she’d mistaken for a businessman was now turning toward her. She grit her teeth. Joe Goddamned Whitney.

MADELEINE SHOULD HAVE PICKED
a bar that wasn’t so close to the courthouse. Come to think of it, she was half surprised that Ms. Jameson wasn’t here tossing back a few herself.

Joe lifted a hand toward her from where he sat at the bar. “I’d’ve brought that drink over myself, hun, but I figured it’d just end up right back in my face.”

He chuckled, but Madeleine was already calculating the velocity of pitching the drink in his face from where she sat, distance be damned. He must have seen the savagery in her eyes because he lifted his hands.

“Now hold on there, before you get to thinking too hard, I got something to tell you. All I ask is that you hear me out.”

She glared at him. “I can’t imagine we have anything to discuss.”

But she was battling a sensation of defeat that was slipping toward despair. She exhaled, sagging as she let out her breath. Joe took this as a signal to indulge him, and he wrested his body off the bar stool and sagged into a chair opposite her.

She folded a shaky hand over the drink and raised it to her lips, draining the glass.

Joe grunted. “Me too.” He motioned to the bartender for more drinks.

Madeleine’s throat burned, eyes filming. She was not used to hard liquor. The result was an instant and welcome numbing in her lips that slowly filtered through her body.

Her cell phone buzzed with a text from Ethan:
Be right there. Worried. You OK?

As the bartender brought over another round, she sent Ethan a message stating that she was fine. Joe lit a cigarette and waited for the bartender to leave. Madeleine put her cell phone back in her bag and looked into the fresh glass, but felt no further compulsion to drink.

Joe said, “All right. I’ll get to the point. Just a few minutes ago, authorities recovered evidence from the plantation house on River Road. They found . . .” his face twitched. “They found . . .”

He sucked in a breath and then downed his glass.

Madeleine listened, tides of her own blood pounding in her ears.

Joe licked his lips, and she could see that his hands were shaking, too. She waited for him to continue.

“This has been one goddamned helluva case,” he said, his voice gruff. He looked at her, and for a moment, she saw a flash of shame in him. “I want you to know Miss Madeleine, I took no form of pleasure in what happened in that courtroom today. I did what was necessary to defend my client, as is my duty by law.”

“Tell me what they found, Joe!”

“They found a digit. A single human finger wearing a ring. The ring matches descriptions of the one worn by Angel Frey. In the pigeon house at Terrefleurs Plantation. Just as . . .” He gulped. “Just as you said.”

So it was true. She felt relief rushing through her, but at the same time she recalled Whitney’s final plea to the judge:
I demand that you place Dr. Madeleine LeBlanc under arrest for the murders of Anita Salazar and Angel Frey!

“They’ll be coming to arrest me, then. They’ll think I did it. I told them where to find it.”

Joe pursed his lips. “I doubt that’ll happen, Miss Madeleine. There is visible blood and tissue beneath the fingernail. They’ll do DNA testing on that tissue, and my client—” He coughed. “Well, if you repeat this to anyone, I’ll deny it, but my client has deep concerns over those DNA tests.”

My God
. Madeleine laughed out loud, or maybe it was a sob. She took a trembling sip of the whiskey, fighting back the emotion that threatened to carry her away.

Joe said, “They had to use a boon or they’d’ve got it out hours ago. I can’t for the life of me figure out how he got it into that pigeon house in the first place.”

“Maybe he got a bird to carry it up there for him.”

Joe looked at her as though he took her comment for sarcasm. If he’d read Mémée’s diary, he would have understood just how serious she was.

He lowered his voice. “Miss Maddy, how exactly did you know about the pigeon house?”

She stared at him.

“It’s all right, you can tell me,” Joe said. “Anyone else, I’d say they had something to do with the crime. But you do have a kind of a sight, haven’t you? Just between you and me, what exactly did you see?”

Her lips pulled back to bare her teeth. “Just between you and me? Are you my buddy now, Joe?”

Joe’s hands went up. “I had no choice in the courtroom today.” He waved a hand and took a drag from his cigarette. “Doesn’t matter. You have a sight, just like Daddy Blank.”

Madeleine’s gaze flickered over Joe’s face.

“Your father been a pain in my ass for many a year. Had a way of knowing things. Every time I think I might do a little something on the side, make a little money under the table, there go Daddy Blank, ringin my bell. And I’d think, there’s no way he could know about this. Over the years, I figured it out: He had a sight.”

She listened intently, unable to say a word.
My father’s enemy knew him better than I did
.

Joe went on. “Even when we were at school together, he was already on my ass. I had a buddy who had a talent for getting his hands on exams before the actual test date come around. My buddy’d get the tests and I’d sell’m. Your daddy somehow knew every detail of our game. Made me split some of the profits with him to keep his mouth shut.”

Madeleine had to smile. That did sound like her father.

“He was already a little whacko by then, and I thought maybe no one would believe him, but I couldn’t take any chances. Over the years, whatever I got into, he’d either call me out publicly just to piss me off, or he’d come by in private if he wanted a cut.” Joe took a final drag from his cigarette and crushed it out.

“Then his mind really started slipping, and I was safe from him a while. Big Brother was off duty.” Joe regarded Madeleine for a moment. “God forbid you should start to slip that way.”

Her back stiffened. God forbid.

Suddenly Joe’s eyes grew shiny. “Miss Madeleine, I have to tell you something.”

A stillness settled over her. He was about to make a confession. “I know, Joe.”

He spoke as if he had not heard her. “I was there. The night he died. I was with him.”

JOE’S LOWER LIP BEGAN
to tremble as he spoke. “Your daddy was harassing me. Of course he was. I harassed him back some. And then, we went on and took a little drink together. We was talking and remembering old times. He was down. He was really down.”

Joe looked at Madeleine through moist eyes. “Your daddy and me, I know it looked like we always warrin with each other, but we’re friends too. Were friends.”

He paused, eyes glimmering with the same light as the whiskey.

“Then it was time to go on home, and your daddy asked me to drop him off.” Joe’s breath hitched, and he gestured in the general direction of Iberville. “Out there. I want to tell you that I didn’t know what he was about to do there.”

Joe caught his breath and blinked wet lashes. “But I can’t say that to you, honey. Because I
did
know. I knew what he was after. I thought of taking him to your place instead, even though I know he wouldn’t have stayed, but I didn’t do that. And I even thought of calling you after I’d dropped him off, letting you know where he was.”

Madeleine’s hands trembled, and she felt her eyes fill.

“But I didn’t do that either. I didn’t do that either.” He swallowed. “Because,” he said, and the word emerged like a choke. “Because, I thought maybe it’d keep him quiet a little longer. Keep the heat off of me. I wanted him to keep his mouth shut about that goddamned mega-mart until the thing blew over some.”

Tears finally spilled over and tumbled freely down his face, and they streamed for Madeleine as well.

“So I let him go on over there,” he whispered. “And I didn’t call you. And that was the last time I saw him.”

“I see,” she murmured. “But that didn’t stop you from representing Zenon.”

Joe wiped his eyes. “I swear to you honey, I had no idea what I’d gotten myself into until it was too late. I didn’t know he was your half brother. All I knew was that you were a witness and I didn’t really think nothing of it. Later, I quietly asked to be removed from the case. Twice. Both times the judge refused.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what I’m asking of you, Miss Madeleine. I can’t ask you to forgive me. How could I?”

She was indeed angry. This was not a good man. But as much as she wanted to, she could not hold Joe responsible for her father’s actions. Nor could she provide whatever absolution he sought—she felt it was not hers to give. And so she said nothing.

Joe sat motionless, his lips parted, eyes downcast, his shoulders lifting with each drawn breath. Then he looked up.

“But you knew, didn’t you?” he said. “You knew I was there. Already knew it.”

The bartender appeared again with a third round of drinks, though Madeleine hadn’t touched the second one. The first had left her blessedly numb. But as for Joe, she could see that he was getting swept away.

He lit another cigarette and took a long, deep pull. “Your brother got the sight too, you know.” He gave her a sidelong look. “Not your brother Marc, God rest his soul. I’m talking about your half brother.”

Madeleine bristled.

Joe watched her, continuing. “After they pulled that evidence out of the pigeon house—and it didn’t take them long, by the way. Your sheriff friend made some calls and that place was crawling with badges. Had a boon truck out there within an hour.”