Page 11 of Carnival Queen

Penn said nothing, a swallow causing his Adam’s apple to go up and down. He nodded at the big man and sat back down.

“Now, is there someone threatening you?” asked Antoine.

“I–” he stopped, seeing his assistant in the door.

“Mr. Carver, you need to take that call on line three,” she said. “He says he tried calling your cell phone and you didn’t pick up.” He nodded, and Antoine and Tailor looked at one another.

“I’ll let you know what Lottie says,” he said, looking at them.

“Thank you.” They left the office, and once inside their SUV, Tailor looked at Antoine. “I think he’s telling the truth about Lottie. But that boy’s got something else going on, and he don’t want us to know.”

“Nice fucking house,” growled Rafe.

“Holy shit,” said Baptiste. “There must be thirty rooms in this place. I didn’t know CPAs or tax guys make this kind of money.”

“Me either.” He knocked on the door, and a pretty woman in her early forties opened the door.

“Can I help you?”

“Mrs. Carver?” She started to close the door, and Rafe held it open. “Mrs. Carver, we’re not here to sell you anything or to harm you. We want to ask you some questions about Lottie.”

“L-Lottie? Oh, God,” she whispered. Rafe grabbed her arm, holding her steady.

“Ma’am, she’s fine. We just want to know where she was two nights ago.”

“T-wo, two nights ago,” she repeated. “Um, two nights ago was Penn, my husband, Penn’s birthday. We had a family dinner here. Probably thirty people.”

“I see. And Lottie was here the whole time?” asked Rafe.

“Yes. What’s this about?”

“Your daughter made some vague threats to the members of the Mardi Gras committee for not selecting her as queen. Shortly after that, someone broke into the warehouse and destroyed several of the floats.”

“Oh, no,” she said, genuinely concerned. “I’m so sorry that happened, but I promise Lottie wouldn’t have done that. She was angry about not being selected as queen, but we’ve spoken about it, and she’s going to focus on using this on her resume for the sorority.”

“She seems awfully tied to this one particular sorority, Mrs. Carver,” said Baptiste.

“She is,” nodded the woman. “I didn’t belong to a sorority, and sometimes, it’s harder if you’re not legacy.”

“We’re aware, ma’am. Our sisters were all in a sorority. But there are a lot of different sororities that she could rush.”

“I know,” she nodded. “A girl who was two years ahead of her at school became Miss LSU and has raved to Lottie about the sorority and all the things they do. It’s been Lottie’s dream for two years now.”

“Dreams are lovely, ma’am, but not when they come with the destruction of property. I know she’s your daughter, but you may want to teach her that her words have impact and her attitude is watched by everyone.”

The woman said nothing, but she nodded at both men. There was a look of smugness, then displeasure.

“Do you have teenage daughters?” she finally asked.

“We both have grown daughters,” nodded Baptiste.

“Then you should understand.”

“Understand what exactly?” asked Rafe. She stared at him, not saying anything. “Our daughters were raised to respect their elders, say ‘yes, ma’am’ and ‘no, ma’am,’ and more than anything, to be kind to those around you. They never expected anything except food, shelter, and safety. If they’d behaved the way your daughter had, they wouldn’t have sat down for a month.”

“Well, it must be wonderful to have such perfect children,” she frowned.

“I didn’t say they were perfect,” said Rafe. “We’re all human. None of us are perfect. We make mistakes, and we learn from them. It’s my understanding that your daughter showed quite the exhibition of rudeness at the selection meeting. In fact, she showed her rudeness to our mother.”

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