Dangerous Mercy: A Novel (12 page)

“Yeah. At least
they
believed I had nothin’ to do with Flynn’s death. Vanessa kept tryin’ to get me a lawyer.”

“Not a bad idea.”

Noah waved his hand. “I don’t need a lawyer. I’ll speak for myself. I’ve got nothin’ to hide.”

“If push comes to shove, everyone here will stand by you. There’s not a man here who thinks you did it, including Father Vince. That’s got to mean something.”

Noah’s eyes suddenly glistened, and he kept eating.

“There’s no way we’re letting you go down for this.”

“There’s nothin’ you could do about it if the sheriff thinks I’m guilty.”

“He let you go, didn’t he? The sheriff wouldn’t have done that if he had anything on you.”

“How much do you think he needs?” Noah shot him a defiant look. “I’m a black man with strong hands, and there’s a strangled white victim—that everyone knew I didn’t like, and I’d just told to watch his back—found on the property where I work.”

“It’s all circumstantial.”

“Plenty o’ black men have been convicted for less.”

“But
nobody
liked Flynn. He could’ve had an altercation with anyone—even someone at that bar where he hangs out.”

“Well, his body ended up in the bayou, just ’bout a football field away from my toolshed.”

“You’re going to get through this,” Murray said. “The sheriff has to follow protocol. But in the end, your name will be cleared.”

Noah buttered the other half of his biscuit. “Did you hear they found Father Vince’s Camry?”

“No. Where?”

“In the back parking lot at the Den. No big surprise.”

“Good,” Murray said. “They ought to get some DNA or something that’ll help them find whoever killed Flynn. Do they think he was killed in the car?”

“Father Vince didn’t say. Just that the authorities have his car and are checking it for trace evidence and fingerprints.”

“If you weren’t in the car, they can’t nail you for it, right?”

“Just can’t resist those
ifs
, can you?” Noah stuffed the last bite of biscuit into his mouth and stood.

“Come on, man. You know what I mean.”

“I’ve got to go to work,” Noah said. “Do me a favor and don’t try to defend me to the cops. Every time you open your mouth, I sound guilty.”

CHAPTER 13

V
anessa finished setting out a generous breakfast buffet for her guests and making preparations for andouille sausage and shrimp crepes that lived up to the advertisement posted on the Langley Manor website. She had plenty of fresh blueberries, strawberries, bananas, and fried apples for those who preferred fruit crepes. For the less adventuresome guests, she provided scrambled eggs and bacon and a variety of cereals, including her own special granola mix. She was also set up to make beignets.

Breakfast would be served on the Villeroy and Boch
tableware
—Cottage pattern—that Ethan’s family had gone in together and bought them for their grand opening. The luscious design of cherries, blueberries, and raspberries on a white background made it a homey complement to the elegant navy walls and white crown molding in the dining room.

The anniversary clock on the mantle chimed eight times. She smiled. Carter would be saying the Pledge of Allegiance, starting another fun morning at day camp. Ethan would be sitting down for his first counseling session.

Noah was late. Had he decided he needed the day off to recover from yesterday’s interrogation? Poor guy. Anything that needed to be done on the grounds could certainly wait a day or two. Should she call him? Or just wait until he was ready to venture out?

She heard the kitchen door open, and a few seconds later, Noah stood in the doorway of the dining room.

“You
did
come!”

“Mornin’, Vanessa.”

She went over and put her arms around him. “I’m so glad you’re here. How’re you doing?” She pushed back and looked into his sad brown eyes. “Is the sheriff finished questioning you?”

“Far as I know. I told him everything I told you—over and over and over. I was so glad to finally get out o’ there.”

“Have you had breakfast?” Vanessa took a step back. “I’ll be glad to make you crepes.”

“Thanks, but I had a big breakfast. I’m goin’ to prune the roses. I’ll be in the flower garden, if you need me.” He turned to go.

“Noah, wait …” She gently gripped his arm. “I don’t know what happened to Flynn. Or why his body was put in our bayou. But I know
you
. You’re a gentle, hardworking, honest man who couldn’t possibly have had anything to do with it.”

“I appreciate your confidence, Vanessa. Unfortunately, the authorities aren’t that interested in your opinion o’ me. Truth is, I didn’t like Flynn one bit.”

“Did anyone? That doesn’t mean you killed him.”

“The suspicion’s been raised. It’s not just goin’ away.”

“I have to wonder if they’d be as suspicious if you were white.”

Noah shrugged. “It’d be easy to blame it on race. But I doubt the sheriff would care if I was purple. The facts are what they are. He’s just goin’ to have to sort them out.”

“You should have legal counsel.”

“That’d just make me look more suspicious.”

Zoe took Grace’s tiny hand and walked across the dining room at Zoe B’s and stopped at the table by the window. Grace climbed into her booster seat in the chair next to Father Sam and across from Tex and Hebert.

“Ah, dere’s our
petite fille.”
Hebert reached over and tickled her chin. “How’s our little girl dis morning?”

“I not little girl.” Grace pointed to herself. “I
big
girl.”

Tex laughed. “Atta girl. Talk that Texas talk.”

Zoe set a bowl of fruit and cheese slices on the table in front of Grace. “She wanted to have her morning snack down here so she could watch you fellas play checkers.”

“She likes to see ol’ Hebert whip everybody. Isn’t dat right,
honeychile?”

“Her babysitter will be here in thirty minutes.” Zoe glanced out the window and saw Savannah standing on the sidewalk, talking on her cell phone. “Which is good because she really needs a nap.”

Grace shook her blonde curls. “No
fais do do
. I not sleepy.”

“You need your beauty sleep,” Hebert said. “All princesses need lots o’ sleep. Dat’s how dey stay so pretty. I don’t take naps—and jus’ look at dis wrinkled face.”

Tex laughed out loud. “Think pushin’ a hundred had somethin’ to do with it?”

“By da way”—Hebert looked up at Zoe—“is dere any news on Noah’s situation?”

“Just that Jude let him go. He can’t possibly be a serious suspect. He wouldn’t hurt a flea.”

“You’re partial,” Tex said. “I don’t think you can say that with any assurance. Don’t get me wrong, I like Noah. I can’t see him doin’ it either. But the facts have to be addressed.”

“It’s all circumstantial,” Zoe said. “There’s not a shred of evidence that Noah was even with Flynn the night it happened.”

“No one at Haven House remembers seein’ him,” Tex said. “That’s not in his favor.”

Savannah came in the front door, the color gone from her face. She walked past the table as if she didn’t see them.

“Excuse me, guys.” Zoe followed Savannah into the kitchen and finally caught up with her. “Hey, you okay?”

Savannah stopped. She seemed to stare at nothing and didn’t acknowledge Zoe’s presence.

“What’s wrong, honey? What is it?”

“Aunt Nicole … she … she’s dead. He killed her … just like the others.” Savannah’s eyes were blue pools. “He spray painted the number three on—”

Savannah’s knees buckled, and Zoe grabbed her arm.

“Pierce! Dempsey! Somebody! We need help.”

Within seconds, Pierce and Dempsey Tanner, the sous-chef, came running toward them, each wiping his hands with a towel.

“Can you get Savannah a chair?” Zoe said. “She’s about to collapse.”

Dempsey helped hold Savannah up while Pierce darted over to the utility closet, took out a folding chair, and placed it behind the distraught waitress. Zoe and Dempsey lowered her into a sitting position.

“What
happened?”
Pierce said.

“I think her aunt Nicole was the third victim of the Bathtub Killer.”

“What?” Dempsey put his hands to his temples. “Man, what’s going on in this town?”

“Was she the aunt who always orders my Cajun shrimp?” Pierce said. “And who works for Aubry Computer Systems?”

Savannah gave a weak nod. “She owns it.”

Zoe’s gaze met Pierce’s. “Nicole’s in here at least once a week. The last time, she had Father Sam in stitches.”

A tear spilled down Savannah’s cheek. “I just saw her over the weekend. She took me shopping. She loved buying me clothes. But she would never let me tell anyone that she did it. I need to call Benson and tell him before he hears it on the news.”

Zoe sighed, her heart aching for Savannah, her mind flashing back to the last time Nicole Aubry came into Zoe B’s. She sat at the table across the aisle from Father Sam, Hebert, and Tex. She was dressed in designer jeans and a pink tank top. Unpretentious. Funny. She told a joke about a priest and a mule that made Father Sam laugh so hard he lost his breath. Such a delight.

“We were all waiting for the other shoe to drop,” Zoe heard herself say. “But I never dreamed it would be so close to home.”

Adele hung up the phone and sat at the table in the sunroom, her hands folded, her heart heavy. She realized someone was talking to her and looked up into Isabel’s face.

“The new computer desk looks really nice. Are you pleased?” Isabel handed her the mail.

“Yes, I believe it’s going to work out nicely, hon.” Adele pushed the mail aside. “That was Zoe on the phone—with horrible news.”

“What now?”

“The Bathtub Killer has claimed another victim. This time it was Savannah’s aunt Nicole.”

“Savannah at Zoe B’s?”

Adele nodded. “Nicole was divorced. No children. But she and Savannah were close. Zoe said the poor thing just found out and is devastated, as you might imagine. I met Nicole at Zoe B’s when I first moved here. She and Savannah invited me to join them at their table for dinner.” Adele smiled. “They ordered all kinds of fancy hors d’oeuvres I’d never even heard of before. I sampled them all. Nicole was hilarious. A ball of fire. We giggled like a bunch of schoolgirls. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to kill such a delightful lady.”

“Was her aunt killed the same way as the others?”

“Yes.” Adele sighed. “Nicole was drugged and then drowned in the bathtub, while still dressed in her business clothes. Her safe was empty. No one seems to know how much the killer made off with. Goodness! If I thought money would stop him, I’d pay him off myself. I wonder if the killer has any idea what he’s taken from Savannah. The two of them were so close. I had a favorite aunt growing up. I can’t imagine how I would’ve felt if something this horrible had happened to her.”

“Do they know what time she was killed?”

“Between five and six last night. Nicole lived alone. Her assistant got worried when she didn’t show up for work and didn’t answer her phone or call back. She went over to her house and found the door ajar and her boss dead. It’s dreadful. Simply dreadful. Sheriff’s deputies are there now, investigating.”

“I don’t feel safe in this town anymore,” Isabel said.

“It doesn’t seem to me that the general public is being targeted. All three victims were executives in their businesses.”

“No one really knows who he’s after—or why. It’s all speculation.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“Doesn’t it scare you—just a little? He’s targeting the wealthy.”

Adele waved her hand. “I’m the Lord’s. I can’t worry about all the dangers that might be lurking. I don’t want to spend what’s left of my life in fear.”

“Neither do I.” Isabel folded her arms. “I’d feel a lot better if we had deadbolt locks on the doors.”

“All right. When Murray takes me computer shopping this afternoon, I’ll see if he’ll stop by the hardware store and get deadbolts for the front and back doors.”

Jude watched as the men from the coroner’s office zipped up the bag holding Nicole Aubry’s body. Her lifeless eyes held a blank stare, and yet they seemed to look right through him. If only she could tell him what happened.

“She wasn’t a high-profile CEO,” Aimee said. “Why go after her?”