Diane T. Ashley (20 page)

She didn’t want to tell him she doubted Lily would ever change her mind.

They walked back to the Cartiers’ home in silence as she tried to imagine a future without Vance Hargrove. It was inconceivable. And yet no less so than getting Lily’s blessing on her becoming Mrs. Vance Hargrove.

D
avid kicked the leg of a chair, sending it tumbling to the floor. “Think, man. Petrie used his dying breath to give us that name. It had to be important to him.”

Constable Longineaux jumped in response, making David feel like a jerk. He shouldn’t take out his frustration on the police officer, but it was hard not to. The man who had escaped would certainly warn the others. They would lose any chance of catching them. The ringleader might even go into hiding or flee to Europe. It wouldn’t be the first time a criminal escaped the arm of the law by leaving the United States.

“Let’s start again.” David took a deep breath, righted the chair, and dropped into it. “Ophelia is a woman’s name. She could be a mother or sister or even a girlfriend.”

“I’ll make the rounds in the French Quarter and ask if anyone has heard of Ophelia Petrie.” Longineaux rubbed the stubble on his cheeks.

Neither of them had found time to return to their homes and shave. Or sleep. David had spent several hours making out reports—one for the local lieutenant and a second for Mr. Bastrup in Chicago. They had been difficult to finish. He placed the blame for the failure on himself. It didn’t matter what had spooked the man Petrie was meeting. When the mission failed, it was his responsibility.

Longineaux had spent his time taking care of Petrie’s body, making sure it got to the morgue and was scheduled for quick burial at Pauper’s Graveyard. Maybe they should put an advertisement about the burial in the
Picayune
and watch to see if anyone showed up to mourn Charlie Petrie.

“Charlie wasn’t a local boy. His family probably doesn’t live here, either. But it’s worth making further inquiries.” David looked at the next item on their list. “Shakespeare. The play
Hamlet
has a character named Ophelia. Maybe the ringleader is an actor.”

“I didn’t get the idea Petrie was an educated man. Do you think he would even know who Shakespeare was?”

Longineaux’s question was valid, but David didn’t want to make any hasty assumptions. The best police work came from following every possible avenue until it either ended or led to the culprits.

His mind conjured an image of Vance Hargrove. Wouldn’t it be great if he was somehow involved? That would get the man away from Jasmine. He shook his head. Just because he didn’t like Vance or the way he looked at Jasmine didn’t mean the man was a criminal. David had to stay focused on this case if he was going to catch a killer. “I still think I’ll check the local theaters and see if anyone is showing
Hamlet
. Petrie might have been trying to tell us to look for someone involved in the production.”

“We could put an advertisement in the paper. Offer a reward for information leading to Ophelia Petrie.”

“That’s a good idea.” David yawned, shaking his head to clear it of the cobwebs spun by his lack of sleep. “But we’d better send it to more than the local papers.”

“I don’t think Petrie was from back East.” Longineaux stared out the window.

David followed his gaze. The sun was up. What had happened to the night? “Agreed. He had a drawl, just not the extra twang to indicate a lifetime here.”

Longineaux looked down at the paper on his desk and started writing. “So Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia.”

“Yes, and you may as well include Tennessee and Kentucky, too.”

“Florida?”

David shook his head. “Let’s see what we get first.”

“I hope our luck changes.” Longineaux drummed his pencil on his desk, an indication of either exhaustion or nervousness. “I’m sorry about last night. I should have remembered how clumsy I am.”

The taps of the pencil threatened to get under David’s skin. But he had to hold onto his temper. “It wasn’t your fault. We both wanted to hear what was being said. Jackson Square simply doesn’t offer enough cover closer to the statue. That’s probably why the man chose it in the first place.” He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “You may have saved my life last night when you told me not to chase him. I made a note of it in my reports.”

The praise brought a look of wonder to the other man’s face. He cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

“Let’s get to work.” David stood.

Longineaux’s jaw dropped. “You can’t go onto the street looking like that. People will either think you’re a victim or a murderer.”

David looked down and realized the man was right. Splatters of blood smeared across his shirt. He’d already tossed out his coat. He knew the blood would never come out of it. “I’ll run by my apartment and pick up some fresh clothes.”

“You need more than clean shirts.” Lieutenant Moreau leaned against the office doorjamb. “Both of you need a couple of hours of sleep.”

Longineaux jumped out of his chair and saluted. “But they could get aw—”

“Do you really think you could hold your own if you ran into those men right now?” Moreau shook his head. “All you’d manage to do is get yourselves killed.”

Another yawn threatened to crack David’s jaw. Maybe the lieutenant was right. While he wanted desperately to catch the gang, they needed to be smart about it. Deliberate action would win out over speed. “What time is it now?”

Moreau pulled out his watch. “Seven thirty.”

David glanced out the window again. “Let’s meet at the Café du Monde at noon. We can start there and work our way into the surrounding neighborhood.”

Longineaux’s red-rimmed eyes showed relief. “If you think that would be best.”

“Don’t forget to leave that report on my desk on your way out.” Moreau sauntered down the hall.

Picking up the sheets of paper, David glanced through them once more. He wished he could give a better description of the man who had murdered Petrie. Or something else to prove that he hadn’t completely botched this job. But nothing came to his mind.

With a sigh he followed Longineaux down the hall. Maybe this afternoon they would turn up a new lead to follow. If he could only figure out who Ophelia was. And what the name had to do with bank robberies.

For once Lily found her father alone in the library. Since their arrival in New Orleans, he’d been spending a lot of his free time with Aunt Tessie. Practically living in her apron pocket.

He glanced up as she entered and put down the newspaper he’d been reading.

“Am I disturbing you, Papa?”

“Of course not.” He rose to give her a tight hug. “You know I’m always available to talk to my daughters.”

Lily clung to him for several long minutes, burying her face into his shoulder and breathing in the scent of river that always clung to him.

“Is something wrong?”

She forced herself to let go of him. “I don’t know.” Tears welled up at the corners of her eyes. “It’s just … I’m worried about Jasmine.”

The words were hard to utter, especially to this man whom she had once blamed for walking away from his parental responsibilities. What irony to once again admit that she needed his help. Since returning to their lives, Papa had allowed her to continue mothering his younger daughters. He had always been ready to dispense advice, however. Advice that had been valuable and effective in the spiritual, social, and educational development of both of her sisters.

He perched on the arm of Mr. Thornton’s leather sofa. “I heard the two of you had an argument.”

“I said some awful things to her—embarrassed her in front of everyone here.” Lily paced across the room, her hands locked behind her back. When Jasmine had not come with the Cartiers last night, she had wanted to go talk with her sister. Apologize for her thoughtlessness if not for her decision. Maybe she should have.

“You’ve done an excellent job with both of your sisters, Lily. One thing you may not have thought about is how she’s feeling. I’m sure Jasmine is as upset as you.”

She didn’t feel like she deserved Papa’s praise or his sympathy. She was a failure. How had she ever thought she was up to the task of setting her sister’s feet on the right path? Hadn’t she learned yet that she didn’t have all the answers? A little voice inside Lily’s head whispered that she had more answers than Jasmine.

“Why don’t you send her a note and explain how you feel and why you said what you did?” Papa’s voice drowned out the internal voice. “You could invite her to go shopping. Jasmine may not love new clothing as much as Camellia, but she’d probably love to pick out some new gewgaw that she can’t find at home.”

Lily considered his advice. “It might work.”

“But?”

She stopped pacing and looked at him. “I told her not to go on an outing alone with this actor that she met at the theater. At least not until after Blake and I meet him. Do you think I’m being unreasonable? I know she’s an adult, Papa. But you know how naive Jasmine can be. She always believes the best of everyone. He could be a scoundrel, and she wouldn’t see it until it’s too late.”

“You can’t protect your sister forever. All you can do is give her the moral foundation to make the best decisions possible. Give her the tools she needs. God will handle the rest.”

Lily began pacing again. “But what if she ruins her life? Who will I blame if she’s carried off by some Lothario with a suave manner and a lack of morals?”

Papa’s chuckle should have soothed her raw nerves. “I can’t help but think of Jesus’ parable of the prodigal son. Sometimes our children have to be allowed to fail. They have to be freed even if the result is disastrous.”

“You think I shouldn’t give her advice?”

“If she’s not willing to hear it, what good will your advice do her?”

Lily chewed on the inside of her cheek. But she had to try, didn’t she? She loved Jasmine. Who better to advise her?

“When everyone told you not to purchase a riverboat, did you listen? Did you follow the counsel of those who were older and wiser? They probably thought you were being naive.”

“But I was—”

The shake of his head stopped her words. “You were younger than Jasmine is now. And you knew next to nothing about moving cargo on the river. You were naive. If not for God’s provision, you would have failed. You might have even died on the river.”

She stared at him, knowing how much the words must have cost him. He was right. Her own mother had died on the river in spite of everything. Looking back at those days, she saw her family in a new light.

Papa stood, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I know how much it must frighten you to think that your sister may be hurt. It’s a fear every parent must face.”

“So I should let her go her own way? Give her the freedom to fail?”

He squeezed her shoulder and nodded. “God has given us that same freedom. Think of how He must feel when He knows that we will yield to temptation. Some of us will pay the highest price for that—an eternity separated from His presence. Yet He knows how important it is not to compel us. He stands ready like the father in the parable to welcome us home. But He’ll never stop us from leaving.”

A tear slipped down Lily’s cheek, and she flicked it away with an impatient finger. She didn’t know if she was strong enough to let Jasmine go. Everything in her cried out against the idea. “Isn’t there another way?”

He shook his head, his own eyes moist.

Before he could say anything else, the library door opened, and Aunt Tessie stepped inside, her attention focused on the glove she was putting on. “Henrick, are you—” Her question came to an abrupt halt as she looked up and realized Lily was in the library. “I’m sorry. I’m interrupting.”

“No, don’t go.” Lily sniffed to keep her tears at bay. “Papa and I are finished talking.”

Aunt Tessie looked from her to her father, an unspoken question apparent in the arch of her eyebrows.

Papa cleared his throat and nodded. “I’ll be ready in a few moments.”

The unspoken conversation between the two of them made Lily want to giggle. It was a relief from the heavy burden of guilt she’d been carrying.

“I’ll just go see if Charlotte has—um—has finished that list.” Aunt Tessie disappeared into the hallway, her discomfort obvious.

Lily turned to her father. Was he blushing? She knew she was grinning. “Papa, I’m so happy for you. Tessie is a wonderful lady.”

His eyes opened wide, and he blew out a relieved sigh. “You don’t need to send out invitations yet, but I have to admit being in her company does my heart good. I wasn’t sure if you girls would be upset.”

“Upset?” Laughter filled her, lifting Lily’s spirits. “I think this is the most exciting thing that’s happened to us in a long time.”

“You don’t think I’m being foolish?” His brown gaze begged for reassurance.

“Not at all.” Lily put her arms around him and hugged him hard. “I think Tessie is one lucky lady to have snagged the attention of such a fine Christian man.”

“And I think I’m blessed to have the love of such an understanding daughter.” He dropped a kiss on her cheek before taking a step back. “Now you quit worrying so much about making Jasmine’s decisions for her. You and she are alike in many ways. She’s going to be all right in spite of what you may think.”