Polished Off (Charlotte LaRue Mystery Series, Book 3) Read online

  Charlotte’s Friday client, Marian Hebert, owned her own real estate company. Marian had scheduled an early luncheon date with a potential client so had left the house around eleven.

  Outside the sun was shining, and, for a change, the humidity level was bearable. It was such a beautiful day that when Charlotte’s noon hmchtime rolled around, she decided it would be a nice break to sit out on the Hebert’s front porch while she ate.

  Hoping that the fresh air and sunshine would sooth her strained nerves, Charlotte tried to relax as she unpacked the small insulated bag that held her lunch. She’d already checked her cell phone half a dozen times that morning just to make sure it was working, but surely one more time wouldn’t hurt, she decided.

  Had Judith been able to talk to Will Richeaux yet? she wondered as she tapped out her home phone number as a test call, then hit the SEND button. And if Judith had talked to Will, what had been his reaction? Positive or negative?

  The buzz in her ear told her that the cell phone was working, and Charlotte quickly punched the END button before her answering machine at home picked up the call.

  The thought crossed her mind that Judith could have decided to leave a message on her answering machine. Even now there could be a message waiting at home.

  Charlotte glared at the cell phone. She knew that there was a way to check for messages on the answering machine by phone. According to the instruction booklet, all she had to do was punch in a number code. Too bad she could never remember her code.

  With a shrug, she put away the cell phone. “Patience is a virtue,” she muttered. She’d just have to have patience. But meantime, she still had bathrooms to clean and a load of clothes that needed folding and putting away.

  Spurred on by the thought that the sooner she finished, the sooner she could leave, she gobbled down the chicken salad that she’d brought with her.

  On the off chance that Judith might come by a bit early, and with dreams of both Judith and Daniel waiting for her on her porch swing, Charlotte rushed through the remainder of her cleaning tasks at Marian Hebert’s house.

  Neither Judith nor Daniel were waiting on her porch when she pulled into her driveway around two. But Louis was.

  By the time she switched off the van and opened the door, he had already rounded the back of the van.

  He stopped within two feet of the driver’s door. “It’s time we talked,” he said, getting straight to the point.

  Her mind racing to find a plausible excuse for not talking to him, Charlotte climbed out of the van and slammed the door.

  The minute she slammed the van door, he placed fisted hands on his hips and, glaring down at her, he said, “Just how long are you going to pout?”

  “Pout? I’ll have you know I don’t pout.”

  He nodded. “Oh yes you do. You definitely pout. Lately I’ve become an expert on women pouting. But I think you even have my little granddaughter beat.”

  Charlotte shook her head at his comparison of her to his four-year-old granddaughter. “Oooh, that was a low blow, Louis.”

  At least he had the grace to look contrite, whether he truly was or not. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said a bit sheepishly. “Sorry. But I’ve already apologized for the other day, so what’s it going to take for you to get over it?”

  Charlotte was tempted to tell him that what it would take hadn’t been invented yet, but she held her tongue. Ever conscious that there could be a message from Judith waiting for her inside, she said, “How about I simply tell you that I accept your apology? Will that satisfy you?”

  “Only if you mean it.”

  He had her there. Did she mean it? Or was she being the hypocrite that Madeline had once accused her of being.

  “And another thing,” he said before she could reply, “Where’s the kid? I haven’t seen or heard him now in a couple of days.”

  “Davy is with his grandmother,” she replied impatiently

  Louis frowned and tilted his head to the side. “His grandmother?”

  “Madeline,” Charlotte clarified.

  “You let him go with her? ”

  Charlotte held up her hand. “I know, I know. You don’t have to say it. But, for your information, it was Judith’s idea, and one, I might add, that seems to have worked a miracle.”

  “Now this I’ve got to hear,” he said, motioning for her to walk with him to the porch. “I’ve brewed a fresh pot of coffee, and on my way home I picked up a freshly baked angel food cake from Gambino’s. Could I bribe you into having some, so you can tell me about this miraculous change in your sister? Also, there’s another matter I need to talk to you about.”

  Angel food cake? When Charlotte had first been diagnosed as a diabetic, she’d had a couple of sessions with a dietician to find out what kinds of foods she could eat. From the dietician, she’d learned that a small piece of angel food cake was allowed once in a while. But how did Louis know that?

  As if he’d read her thoughts, he said, “You can eat angel food cake, can’t you? That’s what the book said.”

  “The book?”

  Louis hesitated, then lowered his gaze to stare down at his shoes. “Yeah,” he muttered. “I checked out a book at the library on diabetes and read up on it.” Glancing up, his tone almost defensive, he said, “I figured if I’m going to cook for you once in a while, I needed to know what kinds of food you can eat.”

  For long moments, Charlotte couldn’t seem to utter a sound. The man was an enigma, a living, breathing Jekyll and Hyde. One minute he’d make her so angry that she could chew nails, then he’d turn right around and apologize in such a way that she was the one who ended up feeling guilty.

  Charlotte sighed. She figured if she lived to be a hundred, she’d never understand him ... or understand her attraction to him. “I’d love a cup of coffee and a piece of that cake,” she finally said. “But I’m expecting an important call, so just give me a minute to check for any phone messages.”

  With Louis’s nod, Charlotte hurried to her front door, unlocked it, and went inside.

  Ignoring Sweety Boy’s squawking bid for attention, she headed straight to the desk. Catching sight of the small, unblinking light on the answering machine, disappointment ripped through her. No messages. A heaviness centered in her chest, and Charlotte collapsed on the sofa. Why hadn’t Judith called yet?

  Chapter Nineteen

  Charlotte kept telling herself that there could be all kinds of reasons why Judith hadn’t called. Maybe Judith hadn’t been able to talk to Will Richeaux yet, or maybe she got caught up in another case.

  Or maybe she had talked to him, and he had chosen to ignore what she’d told him. “No,” Charlotte muttered, denying the possibility. Surely there was no way he could ignore such an important lead ... was there?

  Charlotte closed her eyes and, tilting her head first to one side, then to the other, she stretched the taut muscles in her neck. She could sit there and second-guess reasons till doomsday, but until she heard from Judith, there was no use in even trying to speculate how Will Richeaux would react to the information. Best to stop borrowing trouble and get her mind on something else.

  With a groan, she opened her eyes and shoved herself up off the sofa. Louis was waiting, and having coffee and cake with him would at least serve as a diversion. Almost anything had to be better than sitting around, stewing and wondering about Judith and Will Richeaux.

  Louis had left the front door ajar, so after a quick rap on the door frame, Charlotte let herself inside.

  “Back in the kitchen,” he called out.

  The one time that Charlotte had visited Judith at the Sixth District police station was before Louis had retired. When she’d seen how messy he kept his desk, she’d been appalled. And she’d worried about renting to him for just that reason.

  Charlotte glanced around the living room and was pleased once again to see that, unlike the desk he’d had at work, he kept his living space neat and orderly. Everything looked to be relatively dust-
free and, judging by the condition of the floors, he had recently swept and mopped.

  Because she had rented the double already furnished, she knew that Louis had decided to store most of his furniture. But when he’d moved in he’d brought several choice pieces with him, including a well-worn recliner, a bookshelf full of books, and a gun cabinet, along with some paintings and sculptures. He’d also brought along his large-screen television and a state-of-the-art stereo system that took up almost a complete wall.

  She’d only been inside his half of the double one other time, when he’d invited her to dinner. figured if I’m going to cook for you once in a while, I needed to know what kinds of food you could eat.

  Charlotte’s head swirled with confusion as she suddenly recalled what he’d said on the porch. Had he meant that he would be pursuing a relationship with her now?

  “Really strange,” she whispered with a bewildered shake of her head. He’d been acting weird ever since her sixtieth birthday bash—ever since he’d kissed her. She wasn’t exactly sure what she’d expected to happen after he’d kissed her, but what she hadn’t expected was for him to act as if it had never happened. The man was truly an enigma.

  With another shake of her head, she took a moment to admire the paintings he’d hung on the walls. And, like the first time she’d seen them, she was struck again by their beauty.

  Louis’s son was an exceptionally talented artist whose work was featured in his wife’s art gallery down in the Quarter. All but one of the paintings were magnificent oils of Louisiana wildlife scenes that Stephen had painted while he was in prison. The one exception was a hauntingly sweet portrait of Louis’s little granddaughter.

  When Charlotte entered the kitchen, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air. “Have a seat,” Louis told her, nodding toward one of the chairs at the table as he poured the coffee.

  A grin tugged at Charlotte’s lips when she saw the table. Louis’s penchant for the more refined things in life was totally incongruous with his chauvinistic attitude and his gruff, manly persona. Yet another sign of his Jekyll-and-Hyde personality, she decided as she seated herself in the chair that he’d indicated.

  The small table was covered with a white linen tablecloth. In the center of the table was a crystal vase that contained a single red rose. Next to the rose, he’d placed the angel food cake on a pedestal-type cake server made of cut glass. The table was set with silverware, creamy white china cups and saucers trimmed in gold, and dessert plates that matched the cake server.

  “This looks lovely,” she told him.

  Not even his gruff “Thanks” could hide how pleased he seemed that she’d noticed his efforts.

  “So did you get that call you’ve been waiting for?” he asked as he sliced the cake.

  “Unfortunately, no,” she answered, unable to hide her disappointment.

  “Must be important.” He placed a small slice of the cake on her dessert plate.

  The last thing Charlotte wanted to talk about was the call from Judith, and the last person she wanted to discuss it with was Louis.

  She cut into the cake with her fork. “This cake looks delicious, ” she said, and in an effort to delay answering him, she popped the bite of cake into her mouth.

  Louis simply shook his head. “Don’t want to talk about the call, huh?”

  “Well, I—”

  He waved a hand. “Never mind for now. Like I said earlier, I have something I need to discuss with you, then you can tell me all about your sister’s miraculous transformation. I’ll be leaving for New York tonight, and I’ll be gone for a couple of weeks.”

  Charlotte frowned. “New York?”

  “It’s a special assignment for the security company I work for. Anyway, I’m having my newspaper stopped, but I was wondering if you’d mind getting my mail. I could have it stopped too, but I’d rather not have it piling up at the post office.”

  Charlotte shrugged. “No need to. I can keep it for you until you get back. That way it can pile up at my house instead. ” Charlotte grinned, then said, “So ... just what is this special—”

  A sudden sharp rap at the front door echoed throughout the house, and Louis and Charlotte turned their heads toward the hall doorway.

  “Hey, Lou, you in there?”

  The unexpected sound of her niece’s voice chased everything else out of Charlotte’s head.

  Finally. Maybe now she could find out about Will Richeaux’s reaction to being handed a new suspect.

  “Yeah, Judith,” Louis called out. “We’re in the kitchen.”

  Charlotte blinked, and her gaze slid quickly to Louis. But not here, and not now. There was no way she wanted to discuss any of this in front of Louis, especially after the fiasco at Lowell Webster’s office.

  Within seconds Judith walked through the door, and Charlotte’s insides began to knot with dread.

  “Oh, hey, Aunt Charley. I was hoping that ‘we’ meant that you were over here, too.” She leaned down and hugged Charlotte, and when she pulled away, she said, “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” She eyed the table setting, cleared her throat, then waggled her eyebrows. “If I am,” she teased, “I can always come back later.”

  Louis rolled his eyes, and Charlotte gave Judith what she hoped was a stern, disapproving look. Much to Charlotte’s chagrin, ever since Judith had first introduced Charlotte to Louis, she seemed to take some kind of perverse pleasure in teasing both of them.

  “No, Miss Priss,” Charlotte retorted. “You’re not interrupting anything but coffee and cake.”

  Unfortunately. The second the word popped into her head, Charlotte stiffened. Where on earth had that come from?

  “Louis was just telling me that he’ll be out of town for the next couple of weeks,” Charlotte quickly added.

  “And as long as you’re here,” Louis drawled, “you might as well join us.” He waved at one of the chairs. “Have a seat, and I’ll get an extra cup and saucer.”

  “Well ... if you’re both sure I won’t be in the way.”

  “Judith!” Charlotte and Louis protested at the same time.

  “Okay, okay,” she said, laughing. “Make sure you bring an extra dessert plate, too. That cake looks yummy.” With an exaggerated wink at Charlotte, Judith seated herself. “So, Lou, where are you off to?” she asked.

  Louis set her coffee and a dessert plate in front of her. “Out-of-town security job in New York.”

  Judith raised her eyebrows. “Sounds interesting.”

  Louis shrugged, but when he didn’t comment any further, Judith gave him a curious look. When he still didn’t elaborate, she said, “Must be some kind of top-secret or hush-hush job, huh?”

  “Not really,” was all he said.

  With a shrug of her own, Judith turned to Charlotte. “Afraid I don’t have good news, Auntie.”

  Charlotte panicked. Please, not in front of Louis. Trying her best to be inconspicuous, she shook her head once in a feeble attempt to discourage Judith from saying anything further.

  Though Judith gave Charlotte an odd look, she didn’t take the hint. “I told him about the fight,” she said. “And he got all in an uproar and told me to stay out of his case. Claimed he already knew about the fight, and there was nothing to it, that it had no bearing on the case.”

  Judith turned to Louis. “Aunt Charley uncovered some important information concerning Ricco’s murder,” she explained. “Seems Ricco and Mark Webster had a big argument about some money owed to Ricco. We were both kind of hoping that it might be enough to take the pressure off of Daniel and Nadia.”

  When Louis nodded slowly and narrowed his eyes, Charlotte held her breath, waiting for what she was sure would be another explosion from him about minding her own business.

  “I assume the ‘him’ you’re referring to is Will Richeaux,” Louis said to Judith in a deadpan tone of voice.

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “Do you think he was telling the truth?”

&nb
sp; Judith pursed her lips and shook her head. “Of course not. That jerk wouldn’t know the truth if it bit him on the butt.”

  “Who didn’t know that?” Louis said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “So, let me take a wild guess here. If I know you and how you operate, I’d venture to guess that you decided to do a little investigating, or should I say interrogating, on your own, in spite of what Richeaux said?”

  Judith simply shrugged, neither confirming nor denying Louis’s conclusion.

  “Well, little girl, what did the big bad Mark Webster have to say for himself when you questioned him?”

  Judith shot Louis a twisted, cynical smile. “You think you’re so smart, old man. But to answer your question, he didn’t say diddly-squat. He got all indignant on me. Claimed I was harrassing him. But before he clammed up, he threatened to sic his lawyer and the chief on me. That alone is enough to make me suspicious.”

  For long seconds Louis and Judith stared at each other. Neither said a word, and Charlotte could feel the tension between them clear to her toes.

  Judith was the first to break. “Well, what did you expect me to do, Lou?” She threw up her hands. “What?” she repeated. “This is my brother’s life they’re messing around with, and I don’t intend to sit by, quietly twiddling my thumbs while they railroad him to death row.”

  With a sigh that spoke volumes, Louis turned his steely eyed stare on Charlotte. “Meddling again, Charlotte.” It was a statement, not a question. “And where, pray tell, did you learn about this supposed fight between Ricco and Mark?”

  Judith frowned and turned to stare at Charlotte, too. “Yeah, come to think of it, how did you find out about that fight?”

  Busted. Charlotte stiffened. Glaring first at Louis, then at Judith, she raised her chin defiantly. “I’d rather not say,” she told them in an attempt to bluff her way through the situation.