Bone Appétit (21 page)

“We’re dealing with someone who knows a lot about
plants and poisons.” I regretted those words the instant they were out of my mouth.

“And no one fits that bill better than Hedy Blackledge. She comes from a long line of conjure women, or
traiteurs
, as they’re called in Louisiana. Poison, gris-gris—the evidence tells me Hedy Blackledge is in this up to her eyeballs.”

“Right, the entire Saulnier family works for a dead voodoo queen, Marie Laveau.” I hoped to make him see how foolish all of that gossip was.

“Don’t laugh, Miss Delaney. Those conjure women have a lot of knowledge. Don’t ever think they’re harmless.”

“Are you superstitious, Chief?”

The shadow of a smile tugged at his mouth. “Oh, I’m a lot of things that might surprise you, Miss Delaney.”

“Did you hear this malicious gossip about Hedy from Marcus Wellington?” I asked.

“I did. He’s afraid of Hedy and her family. He said she tried to poison him several times.”

“Did he also tell you that Hedy is the mother of his child? Vivian is Hedy’s daughter,” I said. Marcus had slandered Hedy in the worst way, and Jansen deserved the truth.

Jansen grew completely still. “No. He did not. I’ve seen him with the little girl. He dotes on her.”

“When you’re looking for motives, you might examine his. He convinced Hedy to sign away her rights to Vivian. She’s been trying to gain partial custody, and he’s fighting it with everything he has,” Tinkie said.

The telephone rang again. He listened a moment. “No sign of Miss Blackledge anywhere? Well, her private investigators are standing right here. Sounds like a good job for them—to track her down. Thanks.”

He replaced the phone. “We need Hedy in here. Now.”

“We don’t—” Tinkie started.

“We’ll find her and send her over,” I said, drowning Tinkie out.

“See that you do.”

I motioned to the door, and Tinkie and I decamped. When we were outside, she whispered, “We don’t know where Hedy is.”

“She’ll turn up. Her car is impounded. The pageant is tonight. She knows we’re working in her behalf.”

“She’d better be in town.”

“My gut tells me she’s in Panther Holler trying to see her kid.”

“If she gets caught . . .”

Tinkie didn’t have to finish the statement. We both knew Marcus Wellington wanted nothing more than to put her behind bars. Trespassing would work as well as any other charge.

“What are we going to do?” Tinkie asked.

“Make a swing through Panther Holler on our way to or from Clarksdale. We have a witness at the blues club. Joey Mott. Maybe he saw more than he told Jansen.”

We stopped by the room to grab the camera. While Tinkie was in the bathroom, I tried to call Graf. He was in the Memphis airport by now, but he shouldn’t have boarded his plane already. Wherever he was, he wasn’t answering his phone. I called Oscar to check on Sweetie Pie.

“Graf dropped her off,” Oscar said. “She’s tired but seems fine.”

“Dr. Leonard said she would be tired for a couple of days. Let’s hope she’s too worn out to find more trouble.”

Oscar cleared his throat. “She seems a little . . . depressed.”

Great. “She’s pining for that harrier hound.”

“Danny and Bobbie left this morning to return to New York. Do you think Sweetie will be okay?”

Heartbreak was no fun matter, but my hound would recover. “Just give her lots of pats. And thank you, Oscar. I’m sorry she caused so much trouble.”

“I’m just glad she’s back. Chablis is asleep right beside her.”

“There’s no comfort like that of a good friend,” I said.

Tinkie came out of the bathroom and I signaled to ask if she wanted to talk to Oscar, but she shook her head. I said my good-byes and hung up.

“Oscar’s mad because I’m paying for Hedy’s lawyer. Russell Dean’s already turned in a bill for a thousand dollars.”

“For what?” I asked.

“Fees, retainer, something. Oscar wasn’t exactly thrilled, but he paid it. I just don’t want to talk to him right now. In a day or so, he’ll cool off and forget it.”

I didn’t laugh, because I’d come to admire Tinkie’s efficient handling of the men in her life. “We have two options,” I said. “We can find Doc and see what he has to say about deadly nightshade, ricin, and foxglove. Or we can hunt down Joey Mott.”

“Let’s see, a morning of death and poison or tracking a blues musician.” Tinkie pretended it was a tough choice.

“Get in the car,” I said, tossing her the keys to the Caddy. “Clarksdale isn’t that far away. Joey Mott should be home since he played last night. Maybe we can find him before he takes off for the morning.”

Ground Zero Blues Club, so named because Clarksdale and the surrounding area are ground zero for the Mississippi Delta blues, wasn’t open, but the Blues Museum was. A renovated train depot housed the museum, and the staff
knew Joey Mott. He had a reputation for playing his guitar fast and hard and fighting any comers while reciting Bible verses. The combination wasn’t that odd for a bluesman in the Delta.

We located his third-floor apartment without trouble. He’d obviously been sound asleep when we knocked. He opened the door in jeans and a T-shirt advertising the merits of Howling Wolf, a famous bluesman.

“Ladies,” he said, rubbing his stubble-covered face, “what can I do for you?”

Tinkie told him who we were and stepped past him into the apartment, which was surprisingly neat. “We need to talk to you about last night.”

“May I put on a pot of coffee before the interrogation?” he asked. The man had a certain level of charm.

“Coffee would be lovely,” Tinkie said.

While the pot brewed, we sat around a table in his small kitchen and explained why we needed to talk to him. He was happy to cooperate.

“I saw the dark-haired woman right away,” he said. “You couldn’t miss her. But she wasn’t the friendly type. The redhead, though, she was a pistol. She knew how to have a good time. It’s a shame what happened to her.”

“Do you remember anyone talking with them?” I asked.

“Guys were hitting on them all over the place, but what would you expect? At first, the two of them were having a serious talk. After they relaxed, the redhead danced a few times with some of the guys.”

“Names?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Lots of tourists in the club. I don’t know them. If I saw them again, I might be able to identify them, but I don’t have any particulars.”

“Did you notice if anyone took them drinks?”

He shook his head. “I think they had margaritas. Like a
pitcher. The redhead could drink. The brunette was nursing hers. Someone could have bought them a round.”

“Can you identify the vehicle that left when they did?”

“It was a big car. An SUV. Wide headlights. That’s what I remember. Couldn’t see the color, but it was maybe blue or black or dark green.”

He poured three cups of coffee and set one in front of each of us. “I wasn’t paying much attention. You know how it is when something is just a little off and you think, ‘Now that’s odd,’ but you don’t really register why.”

I knew exactly. “Was there anyone who seemed out of place in the club? Someone maybe in the background. Watching the girls.”

He gave it some consideration and a connection came through. “You know, there was someone.”

“Tall man, dark wavy hair?” Talk about leading a witness, Tinkie had handed him Marcus Wellington on a platter.

He looked at me blankly. “Naw. It was a woman. Well turned out, dark hair, short. Maybe a decade older than you. She just sat back and held a drink. Never took a sip of it that I saw. I couldn’t say for certain she was watching the two beauty pageant girls, but it seemed that way to me.”

“I don’t know anyone who looks like that,” Tinkie said.

Neither did I. But then I wasn’t familiar with the female side of the Wellington clan. It would be just like Marcus to get a sister or girlfriend to do his dirty surveillance work.

“Is there anything distinctive that you remember about her?”

He shook his head. “She left before the girls. That’s what I remember. But hell, it’s not even ten o’clock. My brain doesn’t work until after lunch. Leave me a card and if I think of anything, I’ll give you a call.”

Panther Holler, a small community where the Wellingtons had built their dynasty, was our next stop. Always one to taunt the devil, Tinkie suggested that we drive up to the front door and ask to see Marcus.

We had nothing to lose, so we drove between the rows of beautiful oaks that lined the twisting shell driveway canopied by trees and up to the house that looked like a wedding cake confection. Wide double stairs swept up to the second-floor landing to an oak door so massive that a “fee-fie-foe-fum” was probably required to charm it open. Since we didn’t have any magic beans, we merely knocked.

Marcus opened the door, his face bloated and his shirt buttoned wrong. Whatever he’d done the night before, he was still suffering the consequences.

“You have three minutes to clear the property,” he said,
“before I call the sheriff. Cameras at the gate will tell me when you’ve left.”

“We have questions.” Tinkie was never intimidated by money or bad manners. Since she had the first, she didn’t have to tolerate the second.

“Take your questions and shove them—”

“Daddy?” A young girl with raven hair and eyes so blue they mesmerized toddled up to the door. I’d never been one to melt in the presence of babies, but Vivian, a miniature of Hedy, touched me.

“Vivian, we don’t talk to strangers, remember, honey.” He swept the child into his arms, shielding her face so she couldn’t see us. Fear was plain on his face. “Please leave,” he said to us. “My daughter needs me.”

I’d doubted Marcus loved his daughter. I’d thought he wanted her only because he could take her. I knew better now. He loved this child. Vivian was perhaps the only weakness his heart had ever known.

“We must speak with you.” Tinkie held her ground.

Marcus ignored her, focusing on his daughter. “Vivian, Anna has new paints for you.” His hand caressed her dark hair.

Vivian’s face lit up. “Paints!”

“Anna!” Marcus called out. “Anna!”

Vivian must have sensed his worry because her smile evaporated and she burrowed her face in his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” he soothed her. “Daddy’s here. Everything is jim-dandy.” Still shielding her, he glared at us. “I’ve asked you nicely to go. You’ve already upset Vivian, and I want you to vacate the premises.”

“We aren’t leaving until you talk to us,” Tinkie said. “Count on it, Marcus. We don’t want to make trouble, but we will.”

“Just a moment.” He stepped into a beautifully decorated
foyer. “Let me find Anna or my parents to watch Vivian.” He closed the door behind him.

In a moment he returned without the child. “What in the hell do you want?”

“You’re playing with fire, Marcus, deliberately withholding Vivian from her mother. She’s two now, but the minute she’s around other children, she’s going to start asking questions.”

“I’ll deal with that when I have to.”

“Lovely,” I said. “Especially since looking at Hedy will be like looking into a future mirror. She will find out, Marcus, and when she discovers you’ve lied to her and kept her away from the woman who gave her life, you’ll pay a harsh price.”

“You tell Hedy if she continues to come here and park at the end of the driveway, I’ll have her put in jail. I mean it. She can’t do that.” Fear of the consequences of Hedy’s presence showed on his face. I realized then the brilliance of Hedy’s vigil. If Vivian so much as caught a glimpse of her, the child would know. She’d know, and Marcus’s house of cards would come tumbling about his ears.

“Oh, but Hedy can sit at the end of your drive,” I said. “As long as she isn’t on your property, she can park on the verge all she wants.” The Wellingtons owned a lot of property, but they didn’t own the roadsides.

“Don’t you think it would be better for the child to know her mother?” This was a sore subject for Tinkie, and she had strong opinions.

“Maybe if Hedy wasn’t a Saulnier. Maybe if she didn’t come from a voodoo family. Maybe if she wasn’t murdering the competition in this beauty contest. I don’t want Vivian to grow up in that atmosphere. Can’t you see I’m only protecting my daughter?”

Tinkie frowned. “You honestly believe Hedy murdered those girls?”

Marcus motioned to some rattan chairs on the porch. “Sit down. I’m about to collapse.”

“So I noticed. Rough work deflowering another young girl.” I couldn’t help it. Marcus annoyed me. What I wanted to accuse him of was poisoning Babs, but if he was guilty, why alert him?

He ignored my jab and eased into a chair. “Let me give you the story in a nutshell. I fell deeply in love with Hedy when I met her. We were at the beach. Those eyes. I looked into them once, and that was it for me. She bewitched me. I couldn’t get enough of her, and I asked her to marry me.”

So far, his facts parallelled what Hedy had told us. “And?”

“She got pregnant. I don’t know how. I used protection, and she was on the pill. Instead of being angry, I was ecstatic. Until the pregnancy, Hedy wouldn’t consider marriage. She wouldn’t even talk about it. When she found out she was expecting, she relented.”

Marcus was giving us the same facts but a different spin. “Why didn’t you marry her?”

“I brought her home to meet my parents. I knew they’d dislike her, but I didn’t care. I loved her so much, I was willing to defy them. For once in my life . . .”

He turned away, and against my better judgment, I felt a stab of pity for him. A silver spoon could sometimes gag more than nourish.

He continued. “They wanted me to marry money, to solidify the assets of two ‘like’ families. I’m not defending it, but that’s how they think. I hadn’t given them cause to trust my decisions on any fronts. They honestly believe the best unions are based on common cause, not love. They thought I was acting like a romantic fool.”

“I’m familiar with those thoughts,” Tinkie said. “Did you win them over?”

“I never got a chance. Mother was incredibly rude to
Hedy. I know it hurt her, and she left. When I went back to the coast to talk to her, she wouldn’t see me. Hedy’s mother, Clara, told me to leave or I’d regret it. It was clear they intended to cut me out of Hedy’s and my baby’s life.”