Page 96 of The Shop on Royal Street
A blaring horn from the adjacent lane forced his gaze back onto the street in front of him. “That can’t be right. Mimi and Jeanne were best friends.” He was silent for a moment. “But that could mean that thebaby...” He stopped, and the car fell silent, as neither one of us wanted to finish the sentence.
“He was Jeanne’s family’s doctor, remember. And his office was in the Maison Blanche building. Jolene and I found Jeanne’s clientele book in one of the hatboxes from the closet, and a C. Ryan was her most frequent customer through most of 1963 and the first part of ’64 before she died. We know Jeanne had a mystery lover, so this clearly makes him a very good suspect.”
“Hang on. Having an affair doesn’t mean he’s a murderer.”
“It doesn’t. Except we also found a few other things. One was a tie pin with a caduceus on it and another was a pipe.”
He didn’t say anything, but I could see his jaw tightening in the glow of the passing streetlights.
“The first time I smelled the pipe in my house, I asked Mimi if she knew of anyone associated with the house who smoked one, and she told me no.”
It took Beau two tries to get out the right question. “Maybe because at the time she didn’t know Charles was a frequent visitor to the house. I mean, if what you’re saying is true, it’s not likely that either Charles or Jeanne would have told her.”
“Or maybe Mimi found out another way. Maybe after Jeanne’s death. But whatever the reason, Mimi didn’t want me to know that it could have been Charles. There was something else, too.” I paused, trying to soften my words. “A strip of negatives from a roll of film. They were taken from across the street and showed a black Mercedes pulled up in front of your house, with a woman lifting a little girl into the backseat. Stuck inside the clientele book with the negative was a yellow ribbon. With long fair hair still stuck in the knot.”
“Dear God,” he said under his breath.
I touched his arm. “I have it with me. You and Mimi can tell us for sure if it’s Sunny.”
“Does that mean there’s a connection? But how could there be? Jeanne was murdered in 1964, and Sunny disappeared forty-one years later.”
“I don’t know. I think we need to go right to the source and ask them.”
“Ask who?”
“Charles and Jeanne. They’re both at my house. I know because you and I have seen them.”
“I’m not sure what you expect me to do—”
I cut him off. “No BS, okay? I’ll admit that Michael is a lying, cheating scumbag who completely fooled me and turned me into a weak-willed idiot if you’ll admit that you can talk to dead people. Melanie says you do and that I should ask for your help. There, see? I just asked you for help. I am capable of doing that.”
We stopped at a traffic light, neither of us saying anything until it turned green. “You’re wrong,” Beau said.
“About what?”
“You’re not weak-willed. Or an idiot. You’re one of the strongest and smartest people I’ve ever met. Michael Hebert is a parasite who managed to find your one weakness and worm himself inside.”
My eyes pricked with tears. Very quietly, I said, “Thank you.” We drove another block. “It’s your turn.”
He rubbed his face with one of his hands, the raspy sound of his five-o’clock shadow loud inside the truck. “Fine. I see dead people.”
“That’s a start. Because according to Melanie, Jeanne doesn’t want me to disturb what’s hidden—although it’s not clear what she’s referring to. We already know about the baby. Maybe she wants to keep the baby’s father a secret? But why? That’s all in the past.”
“Or is it?” Beau cut in. “This is somehow connected to Sunny. I just...” He shook his head, unable to finish. He put on his turn signal and took a right on Napoleon Avenue. “If what Uncle Bernie said about my grandfather ending the investigation into Sunny’s disappearance has any truth in it, then there’s our connection. I just can’t see the why or the how, because it doesn’t make any sense to me.”
He turned onto Prytania, his truck slowing as he approached Mimi’s darkened house. He parked the truck at the curb and turnedoff the ignition, the headlights still shining in front of us. We both looked at the house, only a dim hall light shining through the wavy glass of the front doors and sidelights, giving the impression of looking into a magic mirror.
Beau rubbed his hands over his face. “None of this explains why Michael’s uncle wanted to buy your house, or why Michael insinuated himself into your life. There’s a reason why he didn’t tell you that Jeanne was his great-aunt. There’s a connection somewhere that we’re totally missing. And it is somehow related to Sunny’s disappearance. It’s like that song from the eighties where the chorus switches between lyrics about the Loch Ness Monster and some guy coming home to his family from a job he hated.”
“ ‘Synchronicity II’ by the Police,” we said in unison.
It was a game from our past, guessing the names of songs playing in the background in restaurants or at parties or at the grocery store. Music had always been the one thing we had in common. And I would almost say that it was coincidence that it was that song playing just now in the passing car as we sat in his truck.
Our eyes met in mutual understanding. “It’s all about everything being linked by seemingly random connections that really aren’t so random,” I said. “Like Sunny’s disappearance, Jeanne’s murder, and Michael.”
“I agree, but Michael? He’s like the wild card.”
“Think about it. Jaxson told me about the break-in last night, when you were out with Michael and he knew Jolene wasn’t supposed to be home. I can’t think that finding the intruder in the front room, where Michael knew you were storing the hatboxes and the Maison Blanche door, was a coincidence.”
