French Quarter (38 page)

Thirty-four

La Murena didn’t draw suburban couples looking for late-night dining after a show and before returning to the kiddies.

Jack entered the windowless front door with only a glance at the inch-high red neon name above a bell to the left.

He was jumpy, which meant he was a wise man—or at least that his basic instincts were good. This was not a good place for him to be, but what he needed couldn’t be found anywhere else. He had to get Win to call off his watchdogs. It no longer mattered if the man paid for the death of Jack’s parents, not in the way Jack had originally visualized. Win Giavanelli was old and sick, and his power was dwindling. Jack just wanted out; he wanted to turn his back on the past and protect those he loved.

He wasn’t a fool. These people didn’t take kindly to goodbyes. His task was to sever all connections without appearing to sever them at all.

“Slummin’, Jackie boy?”

Sonny Clete got off his bar stool the moment he saw Jack.

Jack affected a bored countenance. “One of those nights, Sonny. You know what I mean. The ones when you know you need sleep but can’t get any.”

Α martini in one hand, Sonny sauntered up to Jack. “Sleep like a baby whenever I need to myself.” He talked around a toothpick clamped between his teeth. “Guess that comes from knowin’ the rules of the game and stickin’ to them. Avoidin’ steppin’ on toes that could make me real miserable.”

No translation of Sonny’s message was needed. “I envy a man who sees life in black and white,” Jack said. “There isn’t a shade of gray on your horizon, is there, Sonny?”

Moving the toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other and back again, Sonny thought about that.

Jack’s hands were in his pockets, and he realized his palms were wet.

“Know what I think about gray?” Sonny said. “I think I don’t like it. Never did. It threatens the order of things—that nice black and white you said back then—I believe in that, and I get rid of gray just as fast as I can. Why don’t you go home and try to get some sleep?”

“I came to see Win.”

“Like I said, why don’t you go home and try to get some sleep?”

Jack decided he had nothing to lose by trying a very direct approach with this man. “I’m not a made man, y’know, Sonny,” he said, watching the other’s expression carefully. “Maybe it was out of respect for my mother, who didn’t approve of any of this, but Win never invited me into the family—not the way he asked you. D’you understand?”

The toothpick made another round trip. “I got it. But you want to be invited, don’t you? You want to be made, and then you want to be the fastest rising star that ever entered the ranks. You want what some of us spent a lifetime workin’ for, and you want it as a gift. But even if you got that, you’d be a boss without no army. Ain’t no good to be a boss if all your soldiers turn deserter.”

“You aren’t hearin’ me,” Jack said. “I don’t want any part of your action. I’ve got my own thing and it doesn’t… Sonny, I respect that you will be Win’s eventual replacement. Now, I need to talk to the man.”

“Why?” Sonny’s move was subtle, but it was aggressive and it cut off Jack’s path to Win’s private room.

“Personal,” Jack told him, losing his smile. “I’ve got some personal business with Win. If he wants to tell you about it afterward, that’s his business. I’ll say good-bye before I leave.”

He walked very deliberately around Sonny and headed for “The Room,” as it was called. The stiffness between his shoulder blades didn’t feel good, but he made sure he sauntered rather than hurried to knock on the carved mahogany panels.

“Yeah?” Win’s voice was loud and hoarse.

“It’s Jack.”

After a slight pause, Win called, “Get in here,” and Jack did as he was told. Once inside, with the door closed on Sonny’s angry eyes, he relaxed, but not much.

“You eaten`?” Win asked.

“Yes, thank you. I need a few minutes of your time, if you can spare them.” He wondered, not for the first time, when Win slept or showered or did all the things he obviously did do without ever seeming to leave this room.

Win spread his beefy, beringed hands. “My time is your time. Always has been. Sit down.”

Jack took a chair facing Win and saw the other man frown. He was a side-by-side guy. Looking someone in the eye didn’t come easily.

“I’ve been having some problems,” Jack said baldly. “You always told me that if I had problems I was to come straight to you. The last time you invited me here, you made a real point of it. So I’m here.”

“What kind of problems?”

“I think Sonny’s edgy around me. When you mentioned the idea, I didn’t take it seriously, but now Ι do. I think he’s afraid I want his spot, and that you want me to have his spot. I think he’s makin’ moves to ensure that doesn’t happen, and I don’t like the way he’s doin’ that.”

Win hefted his tumbler of red wine and drank deeply, never taking his eyes off Jack.

“The woman I’m going to marry got severely roughed up. And some goon’s been following my daughter around. I’m getting threats, Win, and I’m here to ask if you could find it in your heart to do something about that.”

Several more swallows of wine, and Win set down his glass.

He flattened his palms on the table and leaned toward Jack. “You got too much of your father in you. He thought he could call the shots, too.”

“My father was a member of the family. I’m not.”

“Not the way he was. But you’re close to me, and that means a lot of people are going to make assumptions—unless you go out of your way to show they don’t got any need to make those assumptions.”

“How would I go about doing that, Win?”

“Easy. I know it would hurt, but pay a little homage to Sonny. Let him know you respect him.”

Jack’s stomach hated that idea. “Can’t you make him lay off?”

“Maybe.” Win waggled his head. “But you gotta help me. You gotta play it my way. I’ve got troubles of my own. There’s a lot of talk about how I’m losin’ my grip. People are linin’ up, pushin’ for where they want to be when I’m gone, that kind of thing.”

“You aren’t going anywhere.” Jack’s jovial laugh didn’t ring true in his own ears. “You’re a rock, Win. Rocks outlive the world.”

Α faint smile crossed Win’s full features. “The rock’s wearin’ a bit smooth. It started wearin’ smooth a long time ago.” He leaned even farther across the table and beckoned for Jack to do the same. “I gotta tell you somethin’ in case there isn’t another chance.”

Jack was aware of an unpleasant thudding in his chest. He bent close to Win and didn’t flinch when Win caught hold of his hands. “I gotta look after my own first, you understand?”

Jack nodded.

“I got family. You know what I mean. Blood family. My wife and kids, and their kids. I got five great-grandchildren. I owe it to all of them to look out for their future.”

“I’d do the same thing.”

“But I want you to be okay. For that to happen, you gotta follow orders. Don’t do it for me, do it in your mother’s memory.”

Jack did flinch then.

“I never told you the truth about your mother. Now I got to do that. I loved her, Jack. I wanted to marry her.”

Revulsion turned Jack’s stomach. “I didn’t know that, Win.” He did know that Win was at least twenty years older than the woman he was talking about.

“She was a good woman. She was too good for your father, but she wouldn’t listen to me. She married him. I wanted her, but she would have your father.”

Jack didn’t remind Win that he must have been a married man with kids when he was trying to stand between Jack’s parents.

“You coulda been mine.” Win’s hands tightened on Jack’s. “I always think of that. That’s why I’ve taken care of you. If things had gone my way, you’d have been mine.”

And illegitimate.
“What does this have to do with now?” Jack asked.

“Nothin’,” Win roared suddenly. “I’m just explainin’ why I had to look after you all these years, and why I gotta let you look after yourself now. I gotta take care of my own business. Sonny’s restless. He wants me to step down. I ain’t ready to do that, but I gotta handle things real delicate. I can’t allow you to mess things up for me on account of my own family needs me where I am for the present.

“Let me finish. Your mama wasn’t supposed to die. They got carried away. Leastwise, that’s what I was told.”

Jack believed, as he had always believed, that Win had advance knowledge of exactly what was going to happen at the home of Pierre and Mary Charbonnet on a sunny afternoon by the pool. Too terrified to leave, Jack had been watching through the pool-house window when Win arrived at the scene of the carnage. He’d come with the assurance of a man who knew what he expected to find. He’d shown no surprise. That could be only because he’d ordered it. Jack had also seen Win pull Mary Charbonnet gently from the pool and carry her to a chaise, where he covered her with a towel. That hadn’t made sense until now, but it didn’t make Jack hate him less or hurt less. Win hadn’t shed any tears over Jack’s father.

“Will you do something for me?” Win asked. “Will you be respectful to Sonny? Maybe you could ask him to call around at the
Lucky Lady
for a little present, say once a month. Tell him it was my idea. Tell him that and make it a meaningful present, Jack. Then I think you’ll be okay.”

He couldn’t let the rage he felt show. After so many years of feeling he had these unwelcome connections under control, and that he’d eventually punish Win Giavanelli, Jack saw it all slipping away, and he hated it. “You think that’s what it’ll take to make sure no one decides to have any more private chats with the woman I’m going to marry, or with my daughter?”

Win fell back in his chair. He appeared gray with exhaustion. “That’s what I think. But you know you always gotta be careful.”

“I know that Win.” Jack stood up. “I’ll consider your suggestions. And I’ll do what I have to do.” Whatever that might be.

“And you understand that I say these things for your own good? Because I think of you like another of my sons?” Only with difficulty did Jack choke out a yes.

Back in the bar and already dreaming of the fresh air outside, Jack’s progress was halted by Sonny, who stepped in front of him again.

Jack nodded. “Time to go home, I guess, Sonny.”

“Is that all you got to say to me?”

He wasn’t going to offer him “presents.” ‘No. I want to say something else, and I hope you’ll take it in the spirit it’s meant. Quit worrying, Sonny. You’re safe. Understand?”

Sonny’s pasty face turned purplish. “You arrogant son of a bitch. You think you get to say what happens in the family?”

“Not at all. It’s just that you seem to think I’m some sort of threat. I’m trying to put your mind at ease.”

Sonny took hold of a lapel on Jack’s leather jacket. “That’s good of you. Let me make a suggestion to you, Jack. Things can start being talked about. Things you don’t think will ever be mentioned, especially after five years or so.”

“Like what?” Jack was genuinely puzzled.

Sonny’s smirk wasn’t a pretty sight. “Like something a man might not want his daughter to know. Like how he was in the car his wife drove into a swamp. That he got out and she didn’t.”

Jack reached for the back of a chair and held on.

The action didn’t escape Sonny’s notice, and he puffed up with satisfaction. “I see I’m hitting a nerve here. I don’t suppose the man would want his kid to know how some said he should have been able to get his wife out of that car too.”

Jack shook his head. “I tried. I couldn’t.”

“So you say. But word has it you sat on the bank a long time before you went for help. In fact, you went for help only when someone you knew came along unexpected.”

Wilson Lamar.
Wilson had been coming from a whorehouse tucked away beside a bayou on the banks of the Atchafalaya. Wilson, the respected lawyer who already had big political aspirations which Jack had been vocal in opposing. That night Wilson had made sure Jack understood that no one could prove he’d been coming from a whorehouse when he found Jack, but the fact that Elise was dead inside a car in the swamp was concrete. No official suggestion had ever been made that Elise’s death was anything but a suicide, and Jack didn’t want Amelia to know that her mother hadn’t been alone in the car. Elise had insisted upon driving and had begged him to let her go alone. He’d refused, and she’d sent them both into the slimy water.

“I see I’ve got you thinkin’, Jackie,” Sonny said. “I like that. A thinkin’ man. Get in my way and some little birds will start chirpin’.”

Jack stood tall, which was considerably taller than soft Sonny. “I’ve got a warning of my own to hand out,” he said. “Stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours. That means stay away from anyone connected to me. We aren’t a threat to you. Got it?”

“Maybe.” Sonny still chewed his toothpick. “And maybe I can make sure you’re never tempted to step over the line onto my side of the turf. In case you haven’t noticed, the papers have been real useful to some lately. I can’t think of a better way to spread bad news. Bad news for some. I think some folks must have an in with a reporter or somethin’, what do you think?”

Jack watched and waited. He wasn’t expected to respond.

“Yeah, well, I thought you’d agree. The last thing I’d want to see would be a hint that your poor little dead wife wasn’t the one driving the car that night after all—that you could have been behind the wheel. It would be a real shame if the rest of your life got messed up like that.”

Thirty-five

“Cyrus?” Celina gripped the arms of her chair and strained to hear. “Cyrus, is that you?” She rose from the couch in the parlor but didn’t attempt to leave the room.

“It’s me,” Cyrus called out. “I’ll be right there. Would you like some iced tea?”

Iced tea?
She hadn’t thought of eating or drinking for hours, certainly not since Jack left, angry because she’d insisted on remaining to wait for Cyrus to come home. “Yes, please,” she said after opening the door. “Sounds good.”

Every nerve twitched. Every muscle jumped. Why was there still no word from Jack? She’d spoken with Tilly, who said she and Amelia were fine, but that she hadn’t heard from Jack since he’d checked on them before leaving Celina. Tilly had added that Celina should be in Chartres Street, too.

Cyrus came with two tall glasses of iced tea. He looked pale and withdrawn. His eyes had the sunken appearance of a man who hadn’t slept for too long.

“Are you all right?” Celina asked him, taking the glass of tea.

“What are you doing alone?” It wasn’t Cyrus’s way to answer a question with a question.

“Jack had to see someone. Dwayne and Jean-Claude went back to the club.”

“You shouldn’t be here on your own. Or anywhere else.”

Under siege.

Celina touched the cold glass to each of her cheeks, then rested it against her forehead.

“Celina?” Cyrus said tentatively. “What is it? Something new?”

“No!” she shouted, and then couldn’t believe she’d raised her voice to her brother. “No, Cyrus. Not something new, just something that I should have told you—and Jack—a long time ago. Now I don’t know if I can tell you at all. And if I do, I don’t know what you’ll want to do about it. I’m so scared about everything, and so confused. And I’m not the kind of woman who gives in to pressure.”

He studied her for so long that she put shaky fingers to her mouth, afraid of what he’d say next.

“You’re too strong,” he told her at last. “That’s the problem. Would you please tell me everything that’s on your mind? I promise you I won’t repeat a word you don’t want repeated, and I’ll help you, Celina. You know I’ll help you even if there doesn’t seem to be a way.”

“I know,” she said, nodding. “How was it with Sally Lamar?”

He made lines on his sweating glass with a fingernail. “Difficult. She’s a very complex woman, and she’s in trouble. But we all know that. Talk about you, please.”

She sat down, and immediately got up again. The baby made a fluttery little movement, and Celina put a hand over the spot.

“You aren’t in pain, are you?” Cyrus asked, coming to her at once.

Celina smiled at him. “No. The baby moves a little now. You’re going to be angry when I tell you what’s on my mind. And some of that anger’s going to be directed at me. Jack’s going to be angry, too.” She didn’t want to say aloud that she feared he might not want anything more to do with her.

With a gentle touch Cyrus held her arm and urged her back onto the couch He sat beside her. “I am not going to be angry with you. 1 can’t speak for Jack, but I can tell you that he’s a good man. You know I’m uncertain about this marriage, but Ι still believe he’s honorable, and that he cares about you. At first I thought you’d worked out some sort of compromise for reasons I didn’t know—”

“We had.” She must lay it all before him now.

“But that’s changed, hasn’t it? You feel something for him?”

Leaning against his arm, she gave him her glass to set down and said, “I’ve fallen in love with him.”

“Ah” was all Cyrus said.

“I haven’t told him the truth. I haven’t lied, I just haven’t told him things he ought to know. He could have helped me make the right decisions, but I didn’t trust him. Cyrus, this is Wilson Lamar’s baby. Jack does know that now—since yesterday. We talked about it all the way to Baton Rouge, and he tried to convince me he could handle it calmly, but I’m scared he might decide to go get Wilson alone. If he does, I can only guess at what might happen.”

The quality of the following silence was like ice on Celina’s skin. With her leaning against him, Cyrus remained utterly still.

“Jack deserved to know that from the beginning, but I wouldn’t tell him because I’ve been afraid of what Wilson might do to Mama and Daddy.”

“He threatened to punish them because you’re carrying his child?”

“Until yesterday—at lunch—he didn’t know I was pregnant at all. He noticed, made the assumption that it was his child, and told me I had to have an abortion.”

“You led me to believe you’d been raped. But you had an affair with a married man?”

“Ι
was
raped.”

Cyrus made white-knuckled fists on his knees.

“Afterward I stopped working for Wilson’s campaign. I was doing some work for him, remember? He threatened me. He said that if I told anyone what had happened, he’d say I was ambitious and I encouraged him because I wanted to use him. Then he’d make Mama and Daddy look like fools, he wouldn’t use them in his campaign the way he has, and they’d be ostracized by the people who matter most to them.”

“So you let him get away with it?”

Her scalp prickled. “It sounds so...I sound so weak when I say it aloud, but I didn’t know what to do or who to talk to. Errol was the only one I thought I could trust, so he got elected. Wilson had started trying to begin a relationship with me. He came here one day when I was alone, and Ι thought I was going to pass out, it scared me so badly. I knew then that I couldn’t get through this whole thing alone. When I finally told Errol, he wanted to go to Wilson immediately. Then, when I begged him not to, he asked me to marry him.”

Cyrus looked her and guided her face against his shoulder. “Poor kid. Errol was such a good man. I suppose you turned him down.”

“I told him I’d think about it. But then he was killed.” Someone else came into the house, and Cyrus got up. “Who is it?” he asked loudly.

“It’s Jack. I’ll be right there.” Determined footsteps followed, and a vaguely windswept-looking Jack appeared. “Cyrus. Boy, am I glad to see you here. Where’s Dwayne?”

“He had to go back to the club with Jean-Claude,” Celina said, relieved to see Jack but praying he wouldn’t press to know whether or not she’d been there alone. “Jack, I just told Cyrus something I’ve been keeping to myself. I thought it was for the best, but I may have been wrong. Now I’ve got to have help deciding how to deal with it.” If Jack was going to be angry because she’d already told her brother what she’d been unable to voluntarily tell the man she was going to marry, so be it. They didn’t exactly have a long, intimate...they didn’t have a long history.

With no attempt at embellishment or justification, she told Jack about Wilson Lamar—about the threats against her parents, and Celina’s fears for them. She finished by saying that she was worried because Jack hadn’t mentioned the revelation that had been made at Galatoire’s since he and Celina left the place.

Jack turned so white, she feared he might be ill, but she quickly recognized signs of deep anger rather than sickness. He took off the leather jacket he wore and balled it in his hands.

“I’ve wanted to bring the subject up again,” Celina said. “But I haven’t known how. You’ve seen me trying to keep an even relationship with the Lamars. I don’t think you could ever have thought I liked them, not unless I’m a better actress than I think I am. And after you found out what that man did to me, you must have assumed—correctly—that it was for my parents’ sake that I kept quiet about him. He’s so arrogant, he doesn’t believe he’ll ever be accountable for doing wrong. You saw how he was at the restaurant yesterday.”

Jack muttered something unintelligible under his breath.

Celina felt an irrational urge to cry. What a pointless exercise that would be. But what was Jack thinking? She almost laughed aloud. Why should she expect to have any idea what he was thinking? That kind of thing took time to develop, and they hadn’t had that time.

“Why don’t you share what’s on your mind?” Cyrus asked. “We’re in this together. I had quite an interview with poor Sally Lamar tonight. We’ve got trouble all around, and we’re going to have to move forward together.”

“What’s on my mind?” Jack showed his teeth, but not in a smile. He threw his jacket toward the nearest chair, and missed. “What’s on my mind is that there is so much that’s rotten, in every direction I look, that I’m not sure where to start trying to dig us out. But, by God, I will dig us out.”

Celina trembled inwardly. This cold anger was something she hadn’t witnessed in him before. “Where do we start?” she asked.

He spread his arms, then let them fall to. his side.

She turned on her heel and walked around the couch to pull back one of the sheer draperies at the windows.

“Get away from there,” Jack said.

She ignored him. “I’m going to start. Don’t interrupt me, please.”

“Celina—”

“If I want to stand by the window, I’ll stand by the window. Get over it, please.

“When Antoine’s wife came to see me, she did have something to talk to me about. Her name is Rose, Cyrus. A straightforward, decent woman. They have two boys and they’re working very hard to give them a chance in life. Now that I know they don’t have legal status in this country, I fully understand that poor woman’s fear.

“She came to beg me not to talk about anything Antoine might have told me regarding the hours around Errol’s death. I told her I didn’t know anything, and that Antoine hadn’t had a chance to tell me, although he’d tried to. She just kept telling me that I mustn’t say anything, because if I did, she and her boys would suffer. She already had cigarette burns.”

“What?” Jack reached her side so quickly, she took a backward step. He took her by the shoulders and kept her walking until she was well sway from the windows. “What did you just say?”

“Antoine’s wife came to me with cigarette burns on her arms. Α man had waited for her in their apartment. He had something over his head so she wouldn’t be able to identify him. And he threatened her. He told her to come and warn me to keep my mouth shut or he’d make sure I did.”

“And you didn’t tell me? Even after you went through that nightmare yourself? You must have assumed the two events were connected. But even if you hadn’t, why didn’t you
tell
me?”

She pushed him, but he didn’t release her.

“Answer me, Celina.”

“You’re angry with me. I knew you would be.”

“You bet I am. What would possess you not to talk to me about a thing like this? Was I a fool to think we’d reached a place where we were being honest with each other?”

Cyrus arrived beside Celina and put an arm around her shoulders. “It’s okay. We’re all stretched too far. Let’s try to keep calm.”

“My God,” Jack said under his breath. “What is Antoine doing about all this?”

“That’s it,” Celina told him, her voice rising. “That’s why I didn’t know what to do. They’ve got Antoine. Or they had him. Now I don’t know how to find Rose again. They took him and hurt him. They gave Rose evidence of it to show me. Rose brought his shirt here, his T-shirt, and it was covered with blood. And one of his teeth. They were a warning to prove what they’re capable of. Rose begged me not to tell anyone.”

Jack’s face froze. All expression gradually slid away into blank confusion. Cyrus held her even tighter.

“His
tooth,”
Jack finally said. “His wife brought you one of his teeth?”

“Part of one. With gold on it. Oh...oh, I don’t know what to do about anything. I don’t want to be here anymore. I want—No, no, I am not going to fall apart. I refuse to let those people do that to me or to anyone I love.”

“And you didn’t have anyone you dared to ask for help,” Jack said, his eyes on hers. His laugh was short and bitter. “I can’t blame you, I suppose. We’ve all been spinning out of control. But we’re going to have to take that control now. Apparently it won’t be easy, because it takes longer than we’ve had to learn to believe in someone else. Or it does for some of us.”

No matter what she said, he wouldn’t understand how she’d gradually slipped further and further from being able to confide in him about Antoine. “I’m sorry” was the best she could do.

“I don’t think that’s going to help Antoine much,” he told her. “By the time they had him, it was probably too late to help, but it might not have been. I want your agreement that you’re not going to hold anything back from me again.”

Cyrus left Celina and gathered up the two used glasses.

“Celina,” Jack prompted.

She felt such a failure. “I’m sorry,” she repeated.

“I should let you two talk alone.” Cyrus turned toward the door.

“Please don’t go,” Jack said. “I can’t imagine a more awkward moment for this, but I’ve already waited too long. Can I say something I’ve wanted to say to you, Celina? Would you mind if I said something personal in front of Cyrus?”

“I’ll go outside,” Cyrus said rapidly.

“Please don’t go away,”
Celina told him. To Jack, she said, “I don’t mind.”

He ran a hand over her tousled curls, rested the backs of his fingers on her cheek, touched the tip of a forefinger to her mouth—put his other hand on her stomach. “You’ve cut the ground from beneath me tonight. I thought we’d come much further than we have. That scares me, but I love you. I hope you feel something similar for me. And I hope that with this marriage we aren’t getting into something we’ll both regret.” She looked back at him for as long as she could before she bowed her head to hide her tears.

Jack rested both of his hands gently on her belly. “Any sane person would look at what’s happened to the two of us, and to the people around us, and say fate is really mad at us, but it would be a lie. If I could bring Errol back, I would. You know I would. But I can’t be sorry that you and I got together. And I’m not sorry about this baby. Now, let’s go home.”