Dangerous Mercy: A Novel (14 page)

“Heavens, no. I’m not that good at it yet,” she said. “Let’s just do this the way we always do. When you’re finished doing the background checks, call me.”

“Good enough. I’ll be in touch.”

“Thanks, Danny.”

Adele sat quietly on the side of the bed, the aroma of Isabel’s homemade chicken and dumplings wafting under her nose. Hadn’t God always brought people into her life for a reason? Some, like Zoe, had taken advantage of her and caused her sorrow. But hadn’t her sorrow been turned into joy?

She was inexplicably drawn to Noah and Murray. Should she be worried they were going to take advantage of her too? Did God want her to play it safe? Or was He testing her faith?

CHAPTER 15

Murray pushed open the beveled-glass door at Haven House and was hit with a delicious, tangy aroma that made his mouth water.

“Hey there. You
did
make it in time for dinner.” Father Vince walked toward him from the kitchen, a hand towel draped over his shoulder, his dark curly hair framing his face. “Hope you’re hungry. We’re having blackened catfish, coleslaw, and Chef’s Cajun pinto beans. How’d your computer setup go?”

“Great. I enjoyed getting to know Adele, too. She’s an interesting woman.”

“I’m glad you had a good day. Did you hear there’s been another murder? It happened last night between five and six.”

“No way,” Murray said. “Now who?”

“A fifty-two-year-old
female
CEO. Murdered when she returned home from work.”

“What company?”

“Aubry Computer Systems. She was the owner and CEO.”

“This is so sick. I hope they get whoever’s doing this and give him the death penalty.” Murray looked around the room. “Where is everybody?”

“They’re up in the lounge playing Wii bowling. I was on my way up to tell them dinner’s about ready.”

“I’ll tell them. I need to go change.” Murray laughed and, with his thumb and forefinger, pulled his T-shirt away from his chest. “I got into a fight with a sprinkler head on Adele’s lawn. It didn’t take long to fix.”

“I’m proud of you, Murray. Don’t tell the others I said so, but you’re my superstar. I wish I had thirteen more just like you.”

Was he serious? “Why?”

“You’re an example for the others. I’ve embarrassed you. You’re blushing.”

“I’m not really comfortable with compliments.” Murray stuffed his hands in the pockets of his cargo pants. “I’m nobody special. I don’t deserve to be singled out for doing what I should’ve been doing all along.”

Farther Vince patted his back. “The point, Murray, is you bounced back. And that’s saying a lot. Not every guy who comes to Haven House leaves with a bright future.”

Murray smiled wryly. “Are you hinting that it’s time for me to leave?”

“I’m just saying you’re an asset. If you have to spend time in a halfway house, I’m glad it’s mine.”

“Thanks.” Murray glanced at the clock on the mantle: 6:25. “I’ll go change and let the guys know that dinner’s ready.”

Vanessa crossed another name off the guest list and picked up the ringing phone.

“Langley Manor.”
Put a smile in your voice.
“This is Vanessa Langley speaking. How may I help you?”

“Vanessa, this is Marjorie Stuart. Some weeks ago, I made a reservation for tomorrow night. But after this fourth murder in Les Barbes, my husband and I have decided to postpone our trip for a while. I know our fee is nonrefundable, but surely you can work with us, considering how unsafe it is there right now. I mean, we really want to come. It’s just that—”

“I completely understand, Mrs. Stuart.”

“Well, good. So I can get my money back?”

“We aren’t able to refund cash, but I would be very happy to give you a credit and leave your reservation date open until you’re ready to reschedule. Would that work?”

“All right. But unless things take a turn, it might be a while. Are things really as bad as the media makes it sound?”

“I suppose it depends on which ones you listen to.” Vanessa glanced over at the morning headline—
Bathtub Killer Still at Large
. “This is normally a very peaceful community.”

“What about that man from the halfway house? Wasn’t his body discovered right there at Langley Manor?”

“No. It was discovered in the bayou—a considerable distance from the manor house.”

“But wasn’t your hired help implicated in the murder?”

“First of all,” Vanessa said, “Noah is much more than hired help. He’s our full-time groundskeeper and he’s practically family, since his ancestral ties to Langley Manor are almost as tight as ours. But to answer your question, he’s merely a person of interest in the case. Nothing more. Since he works out here and knew the victim, the sheriff was compelled to question him as he did my husband and me. But he’s not being held.”

“One of the cable shows made it sound like he was about to be arrested.”

“That’s not the case.”

“Hmm. Never know who to believe these days. Well, good luck dealing with all the murders. I’ll be back in touch.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Stuart. We look forward to having you stay with us.”

Vanessa hung up the phone and felt as if she could throw up.

The phone rang again. She took a deep breath, then picked it up.

“Langley Manor.”

“This is Rodney Williamson from Liebersville, Vermont. My wife and I have been watching the news about what’s happening there. I’d like to know what we can do to cancel our reservation and see about a refund.”

Vanessa explained to Mr. Williamson everything she had explained to Mrs. Stuart and two others before her.

“Very well, then,” he said. “If that’s your policy, that’s your policy. I’m just disappointed. We were led to believe Les Barbes was a nice little town and a wonderful place to bring the family. So much for believing the Chamber of Commerce.”

“Les Barbes has always been a peaceful community, Mr. Williamson. Whatever is going on here must be the actions of one crazy man. Once the sheriff locks him up, we can go back to being that great place to bring the family.”
I hope.

Vanessa hung up the phone harder than she intended. If this pattern continued for long, they would have to borrow money to keep the place going—or go back to Ethan’s dad and uncles and ask for more.

She decided to let the answering machine take the calls for a while. She went out to the kitchen and popped two Excedrin, then went out on the deck and sat in a rocker, where she could watch a sea of tall green sugarcane stalks swaying in the breeze. Carter was down on all fours at the far end of the deck, playing with his Matchbox cars, Angel lying next to him. She heard footsteps coming up the deck steps.

“I’ll be leavin’ now,” Noah said. “I’ve done all the trimmin’ I can handle for one day.”

Vanessa looked at her watch. “Dinner will be over by the time you get back to Haven House.”

“That’s all right. I’ll stop and get a double cheeseburger. Sounds great, actually. Sittin’ around the table in silence with thirteen guys who won’t ask the questions everyone’s thinkin’ drives me nuts. I’ll give it a few days before I try
that
again.”

Vanessa glanced over at Carter and then back again. She lowered her voice. “No one thinks you killed Flynn.”

Noah sighed. “They don’t know what to think. It’s not like we’re close. Sure, we share the meal table and dorm rooms. But most of us don’t talk ’bout why we were homeless. For all they know, I’m a black Charles Manson.”

Vanessa rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. Anyone who’s spent five minutes with you knows you couldn’t hurt a flea.”

“I never let those guys see that side o’ me. What you consider an asset, they’d consider a weakness. In the homeless culture, the weak are easy prey. You learn not to let down your guard.”

“I was under the impression the guys at Haven House have a special camaraderie—since you’ve all been through similar things.”

“Not really. The only person I have any connection with is Murray. And he and I don’t talk ’bout the past.”

“Not at all?”

Noah shook his head. “I don’t need to know what he’s done or where he’s been. And I sure don’t want to talk ’bout myself.”

“Then why are you friends?”

Noah shrugged. “I like him. But I have no desire to rehash Katrina and the busted levees that took everything from me. I just don’t.”

“Regardless, they can tell you’re one of the good guys.”

Noah’s eyes widened. “No, they can’t. None of us knows what the other is capable of—and we all have trust issues. Anyhow, I’m just fine with keepin’ my distance at Haven House till the dust settles. Whoever killed Flynn is the least of everyone’s worries.”

Even yours
. Vanessa watched Noah go down the steps and out to his truck. How were they going to keep him on as groundskeeper if the cancellations kept coming in at this rate?

Jude took off his reading glasses, his stomach rumbling in protest of his having been too busy to eat lunch. He looked out the window in his office. Friday evening had brought the usual onslaught of weekend tourists.

His cell phone rang, and he cringed.
Go away. I just want to go home and relax.
He took his phone off his belt clip, relieved to see it was his wife.

“Hi, honey.”

“I’ve got grilled shrimp and homemade dirty rice with your name on it,” Colette Prejean said. “Are you coming home, or do I have to feed it to the dog?”

He laughed. “Don’t you dare give it to Keeper. I’m on my way.”

“Seriously, I’ll understand if you need to work. I can’t believe you have another murder to deal with.”

“I need to take a break—for dinner anyway. I might come back later when the media presence thins out. Did you know today’s victim was Savannah Surette’s aunt?”

“No.” Colette sighed into the receiver. “But there seems to be no public outcry. I’ve heard remarks that the killer should get a medal—as if he were some kind of vigilante.”

“I know. I even to had pull Gil aside for letting his deputies make bets on who would be the next victim. He knows better than to allow that kind of thing to go on.”

“Feelings run so deep. Almost everyone in town, on some level, has been touched by the layoffs and foreclosures. It’s easy to blame these wealthy CEOs for all their financial woes.”

“They’d better get over it. You don’t just sanction the murder of the boss because you get caught in the cutbacks.”

“Not to defend it, Jude, but those cutbacks have destroyed lives.”

“My job is to find out
who
killed these CEOs, not to be the judge of
why.
Please tell me you’re not discussing the case with anyone.”

“Give me a break. I know better. I’ve been doing this as long as you have. But I hear things. I’ve never known the people in Les Barbes to be so cold and indifferent.”

Jude switched the phone to his other ear. “Not toward the victims anyway. Maybe public sentiment will soften some with this latest murder. I got the impression that Nicole Aubry was well liked.”

“Somebody didn’t like her. Are you any closer to finding the killer?”

“We have his DNA, but he’s not in the system.”