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  “Daniel, I’m sure they will want to question Nadia, but what about those people he ran around with, the other thieves who were arrested with him? Seems to me that they’d be a lot more suspect than an upstanding citizen like Nadia?” Charlotte hesitated, her mind mulling over the events. “Of course, there’s another possibility as well. Maybe, just maybe, the skeleton isn’t Ricco,” she suggested. “It’s possible it could be someone else.”

  After a moment, he gave a one-shouldered shrug, and, though he still looked skeptical, he said, “I suppose anything’s possible. But you and I both know that’s a long shot. What other reason would his billfold be in the urn?”

  Charlotte thought about it for a minute. “There could be other reasons,” she said. “Who knows? Maybe it was stolen or he just lost it. Maybe the person in the urn is a pickpocket. Or maybe the person in the urn simply found it on the street somewhere—maybe a homeless person.”

  “Maybe,” Daniel said. “But I doubt it. Regardless, I still have to warn Nadia.”

  Charlotte narrowed her eyes. “Why do you think she would be a suspect in the first place? I know they lived together and all, but—”

  “I don’t think it,” he said. “But the police will, once they check their files and start digging into Ricco and Nadia’s backgrounds. Ricco Martinez was an abusive bastard—sorry, Auntie, but that’s exactly what he was. Nadia and Davy both have the mental and physical scars to prove it. And there are hospital records—emergency-room reports. One time he broke her arm. Another time he split her lip. Of course, she told the hospital she’d fallen, but if the police dig deep enough ...” He shrugged.

  Charlotte was shocked at what Daniel was telling her. But at the same time, a deep anger took root within. She never had liked Ricco Martinez, and now she knew why. Maybe all along she’d sensed what kind of man he was.

  She frowned. “There’s something I don’t understand. If Ricco was abusive to her, why was she so anxious to get him released from jail? Looks like she would have been glad that he was in jail. And if I remember right, she told me—”

  “Oh, I know all about what she told you, Auntie—about Davy missing his father, crying for him. It was all a bunch of bull to get you to help her. Ricco had used his one phone call from jail to call her. He’d told her that if she didn’t find a way to get him out, she and Davy would live to regret it. He claimed he had connections to certain people who would make sure they regretted it.” He shook his head. “Can you imagine? A father threatening his own little boy like that What a sleazebag.”

  The anger within Charlotte grew. “Humph! Worse than a sleazebag, if you ask me,” she answered. Threatening anyone was bad enough, but threatening an innocent child was reprehensible.

  Daniel abruptly stood. “I need to get home now.”

  Charlotte stood, too.

  “One thing, though,” Daniel said. “I hate to ask you, but would you mind going with me to tell Nadia about all of this? She respects you, and I think she’d be glad you were there—you know, for moral support and all. I would really appreciate it.”

  Charlotte nodded. “Of course, hon. Just give me a minute and I’ll follow you in my van. That way you won’t have to worry about bringing me back home.”

  New Orleans is divided into distinctive sections by the natives. There’s the CBD, which is the Central Business District, the French Quarter, the Garden District, the Irish Channel, New Orleans East, Uptown, Downtown, and more, depending on who is talking.

  Daniel’s home, like Charlotte’s, was located in Uptown, but his home was in the Broadmoor area of Uptown. The drive from Charlotte’s to Daniel’s could take anywhere between five to ten minutes. Travel time depended on the route taken and the time of day. It also depended on the amount of traffic congestion along the stretch of South Claiborne where repairs were being done to the city’s century-old water lines running beneath what most people in the rest of the country would call the median. New Orleanians referred to the strip of land that separated a street’s lanes of traffic as simply “the neutral ground.”

  Six P.M. traffic was light. As Charlotte sat waiting behind Daniel at the traffic light at St. Charles Avenue, her stomach growled, and she was wishing that she’d grabbed a quick sandwich before they’d left. But not even the thought of food distracted her for long. Like a nagging toothache, she kept going over the conversation she’d had with Daniel—more specifically, the part about Nadia being a suspect.

  “Not fair,” she murmured. “Just plain not fair.” Of all the people she knew, Nadia was the least likely to be a suspect for anything, much less murder. But considering the fact that she’d been abused by Ricco ...

  Charlotte shook her head. “No way,” she whispered. Even though Ricco had abused Nadia, Charlotte still couldn’t imagine Nadia killing him. It just wasn’t logical. Unless she was defending Davy....

  But if, by some stretch of the imagination, Charlotte could believe Nadia had somehow managed to kill Ricco, there was still the fact that he had been stuffed into the urn. Since Nadia wasn’t much bigger than Charlotte, it would have been physically impossible.

  Not if she’d turned the urn on its side. In her mind’s eye, Charlotte pictured the two large men in Patsy’s yard struggling to even move the heavy urn. “No way,” Charlotte whispered again. There was simply no way Nadia could have handled that heavy urn by herself.

  A horn suddenly blared behind her, and Charlotte jumped. The traffic light had turned green. “Okay, okay,” she muttered. “Just keep your shirt on.” She eased the van across St. Charles Avenue.

  The killer had to have been a man, she decided as she bumped across the streetcar tracks that ran down the middle of St. Charles. And a big man at that. A man at least the size of Daniel....

  Daniel.

  Chapter Six

  Until that very moment, the possibility of Daniel being considered a suspect had not even entered Charlotte’s mind. But it should have, considering his intimate involvement with Nadia. Not for one second did Charlotte think that Daniel would have done such a horrible thing. She didn’t. And he wouldn’t. Not her Daniel, who was funny and smart, yet sweet and kind. Not in a million years. Besides, as an attorney, he was an officer of the court. That fact, along with his impeccable moral and spiritual convictions, was more than enough reason for Charlotte to reject the possibility of Daniel being a murderer.

  But the police might think differently. Charlotte grimaced, and a hard knot of fear grew in her stomach. There was no “might” about it. If Nadia was their number one suspect, then Daniel would definitely be their number two suspect. Maybe even their number one, especially once they learned about his and Nadia’s relationship during the past six months and their recent marriage.

  Charlotte’s hands trembled as she parked the van in the tight space between two vehicles alongside the curb in front of Daniel’s house.

  Stop it! Stop it right now You’re letting your imagination get the better of you. “Or else reading too many mystery novels,” she whispered to herself. Everyone was suspect in a mystery novel.

  For as long as she could remember, she’d always had an active imagination. But having an active imagination could be both a blessing and curse, and Charlotte sometimes en-vied those who could go along life’s merry way, taking things strictly at face value. Right now, having an active imagination was definitely a curse, she decided.

  Maybe she should start reading romance novels instead. Most of those were upbeat and, well, romantic. And they always had a happy ending. Maybe she would try one by that local author everyone was always talking about, the one who lived in Daniel’s neighborhood. But what was her name? Rexanne something. Maybe Becnel? Yep, that was it. Rexanne Becnel.

  “Aunt Charley?”

  Daniel’s voice outside the window of the van gave her a start. She jerked her head to the left just as he opened her door.

  “Is something wrong?” He leaned down to peer in at her, his hand on the edge of the door.

 
“Ah—no, hon. Just wool-gathering. Something I seem to be doing a lot of lately.” She removed the keys from the ignition, collected her purse, and climbed out of the van. Daniel slammed the door shut. After she locked it, she followed him around the front of the van into the yard.

  They were halfway to the steps leading up to the porch when Charlotte reached out and took him by the arm. “Daniel—hold up a sec.” He stopped. “On the way here I was thinking. Have you considered that Nadia might not be the only suspect in all of this? What I mean to say is—and not that I would ever think such a thing—but the police might consider you a suspect as well.”

  Daniel smiled indulgently. “Oh, Auntie, you’re something else.” He gave her a quick hug. “And, yes, of course I’ve considered that possibility. You forget I’m a lawyer. And as a lawyer, I’ve defended a lot of clients who were suspects, so I do know a bit about such things.”

  “Oh, hon, of course you do.” Her cheeks grew hot. “I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. It’s just that I—I—” You what, silly woman?

  Daniel chuckled. “It’s okay, Auntie. No reason to be embarrassed, and no explanation necessary.” He suddenly sobered. “I’m not worried about me, though. I’m more worried about Nadia and Davy. I have to tell you, Aunt Charley, I’m not looking forward to this, and I’m really glad you’re here.”

  Though not nearly as large or as ostentatious as the historical houses found in the Garden District, Daniel’s home was impressive in its own way. The two-story Mediterranean-style house with its salmon-colored stucco and its red-tiled roof had been built in the 1920s and was an elegant example of Spanish architecture.

  The house had come on the market when interest rates were down and at a time when Daniel had decided he’d had enough of apartment living. In the two years since he’d bought the house, real estate values had skyrocketed, and his purchase had proved to be an extremely wise investment.

  Charlotte followed Daniel to the steps leading up to the porch. They were halfway up the steps when they heard a commotion from inside at the door. Then, even though the little boy’s voice was a bit muffled, they heard him yelling, “Mommy, Daddy Danol! Daddy Danol here!”

  Within seconds, the front door abruptly swung open. Like a miniature tornado, the little boy raced onto the porch. When he saw Charlotte he skidded to a sudden halt. Then he spied Daniel just behind her and made a beeline for him.

  Daniel scooped Davy up into his arms. “Hey, there, buddy!”

  The little boy giggled with delight. “I wait for you,” he chortled. “Just like Mommy said.”

  “You did? That’s great!”

  “Davy! Come back—” Nadia appeared at the doorway. Her hands were on her hips and her face was a picture of frustration. She froze in the doorway at the sight of Charlotte. “Oh—Hi, Charlotte.” She stepped onto the porch. “This is a nice surprise. I didn’t realize we had company.”

  Charlotte smiled and stepped closer. “Not company, hon.” She opened her arms and pulled Nadia into a hug. “We’re family now,” she said as she released her.

  Nadia returned Charlotte’s smile, but her smile quickly faded into a frown, and, with eyes narrowed, she turned her attention back to Davy. “You—you little scamp.” She shook her finger at him. “How many times have I told you not to open that front door without me being there? What am I going to do with you?”

  Davy ignored her by burying his face against Daniel’s shoulder. With a wink for Charlotte, Daniel tilted his head down and whispered loudly next to Davy’s ear, “Uh oh, buddy, sounds like you’re in trouble.” When the little boy just burrowed his face deeper into Daniel’s shoulder, Daniel chuckled. Then he stepped closer to Nadia, leaned over and kissed her. “Guess I’d better get that security chain put up after all, huh?”

  “I put it up myself this morning,” she told him. “For all the good it did,” she added. “I made the mistake of telling him it was time for you to come home, and for the past half hour, he’s been watching out the window for you. I only left the room for a minute, but that’s all it took. The little devil pulled a chair up to the door and unlatched it.”

  Davy turned his head and glared at his mother. “I not devil. Devil’s monster.”

  “Of course you’re not, darling.” She reached up and patted his back. “Mommy was just being silly.” With an oh-well sigh, she faced Charlotte. “The place is a mess, but come on in.” She motioned for Charlotte to precede her. “I’m still unpacking, but with both of us working, then me being sick ...” She followed Charlotte inside. “I just can’t seem to get it all done.”

  “Feeling better?” Charlotte asked.

  Nadia nodded. “Better than yesterday.”

  Daniel followed them inside and closed the door.

  The living room was large, with a high ceiling and two oversized windows that framed a fireplace on one wall. There were several packing boxes stacked in a corner and a small pile of children’s books on the floor near one of the windows, but otherwise the room was orderly and spotless.

  “You’ve made quite a few changes since the last time I was here,” Charlotte told Daniel, her gaze lighting on the sofa. “That’s a beautiful sofa. Much nicer than that other one you had. Must be new.”

  Daniel nodded. “Yes ma’am, it is. We couldn’t decide whether to use the old one Nadia had or that old one I had, so we figured the best thing was to get rid of both of the old ones and buy a new one.”

  “Well, I love it. You both made an excellent choice.”

  “Thanks,” Nadia said. “It’s really comfortable.” She motioned toward the sofa. “Have a seat. Try it out. And I’ll get you something to drink. Coffee? Iced tea?”

  Charlotte hesitated, unsure of just how Daniel wanted to handle telling her the news about Ricco.

  As if he’d read her mind, Daniel shifted Davy in his arms and said, “Why don’t we wait a few minutes on the drinks, honey. I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

  Charlotte held out her arms. “Why don’t I take Davy into the kitchen?”

  Nadia stared first at Daniel, then at Charlotte. “What’s going on?”

  “In a minute,” Daniel told her. “I’ll explain in a minute.” To Charlotte he said, “Maybe that would be best for the moment, Auntie.” He lowered Davy to the floor, then knelt down to the little boy’s level. Gently cupping Davy’s chin, he said, “But Davy’s a big boy, aren’t you, buddy?” When Davy grinned, Daniel released his hold on the little boy.

  Davy nodded enthusiastically. “I big boy,” he repeated.

  “And big boys walk, don’t they?”

  Again Davy nodded.

  “So, big fella, why don’t you show Aunt Charley where the kitchen is? And maybe she can find you a cookie—” He glanced up at Nadia. “If that’s okay with your mom.”

  “It’s okay,” she said. “He’s already had his supper.”

  “Well, then.” Charlotte held out her hand to Davy. “Let’s you and me go find those cookies.”

  Davy grabbed her hand. “I show you, Aunt Chardy.” He tugged on Charlotte’s hand, and with a sympathetic but encouraging look for Daniel, she followed Davy out of the room.

  “What’s going on?” Charlotte heard Nadia ask as she led Davy down the hallway. But Davy was chattering away, and there was no way she could hear the rest of the conversation.

  Charlotte tried to give Daniel and Nadia time, but once Davy got his cookie, it was hard to distract him for very long. The little boy adored Daniel, and since his precious “Daddy Danol” was home, he wanted to be with him.

  When Charlotte and Davy returned to the living room, Daniel was seated on the sofa next to Nadia with his arm around her shoulders. Nadia was pale and staring straight forward with unseeing eyes.

  Davy went straight to Daniel and crawled up into his lap. Only then did Nadia seem to realize that the little boy and Charlotte had returned from the kitchen. With a lost look, her gaze shifted back and forth between Charlotte and Daniel. “They’re going to think I did
it, aren’t they?” she whispered in a strained voice.

  “Right now all they want to do is question you,” Charlotte told her firmly.

  “B-but th-they’ll think I did it!” her voice rose.

  “Nadia, honey, don’t—” Daniel reached out, but Nadia shrugged away his hand and abruptly stood.

  “Why?” she cried. Wringing her hands, she began pacing between the door and the sofa. “All I ever wanted was a little happiness for me and my son. And now this!” She suddenly stopped and whirled to face Charlotte. “Oh, Charlotte, what if they arrest me? What if they take Davy away from me?”

  Charlotte quickly closed the distance between them. “Nadia, stop it,” she told her and took a firm hold of both her upper arms. Slowly and forcefully for emphasis, she said, “All they want is to question you. Don’t borrow trouble, hon. Panicking will only make things worse. And nobody is going to take Davy from you,” she added.

  “You’re right, Nadia murmured. ”I know you’re right, but—” Tears filled her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks.

  Charlotte drew her into her arms and held her while she shook with silent sobs.

  “Why Mommy cryin’?” Davy’s wide eyes were focused on his mother, and his lower lip began to quiver.

  “Mommy’s just sad,” Daniel told him. “Grown-ups get sad sometimes and need a hug.”

  “I hug Mommy.”

  “In a minute, buddy. In a minute we’ll both hug Mommy.”

  Charlotte patted Nadia on the back. “Try and calm down now, hon,” she murmured. “For Davy’s sake if nothing else. It’s okay. Everything will be okay.”

  But even as Charlotte spoke the soothing, reassuring words, she couldn’t shake the ominous feeling that settled in her stomach like a chunk of lead.