Page 33 of The House on Prytania
“By her father.” Jaxson shook his head. “This is all so disturbing. But okay. The clientele book is obviously important. It could have been kept for the same reason the door was. So Mimi could...” He stopped, searching for the right word.
“It’s called psychometry. The Broussards know about Mimi’s abilities, which is why they wanted to destroy the door, and would want to destroy anything else that ties the Broussards to Jeanne’s murder if they knew it existed.”
“Have you asked Mimi to see if she can read the items from the hatboxes? Or whatever it’s called that she does.”
“Reading objects. Touching them. I’m not sure what she calls it. But no. We, uh, can’t.”
Jaxson drew his eyebrows together in question before realization came to him. “Because she thinks Beau destroyed everything.”
“Pretty much.”
“Let me get this straight—you and Mimi are working on your own plan to keep Beau occupied while you are also working with Sam and Sunny to figure things out before Beau can, while at the same time you’re pretending to be interested in Michael Hebert so you can get inside the Broussard family and see if you can find out anything to help them. Sounds perfect to me. I mean, what could go wrong?”
“I know, right?”
For a long moment he stared at me with a look of unflattering surprise. “I’m kidding, Nola. This sounds like aScooby-Dooepisode. You know, where there are lots of really bad guys dressed as monsters chasing and attempting to kill all the characters until at the end the monsters are revealed to be the bad guys and the police show up to make the arrest and nobody gets hurt. But this isn’t an old cartoon, Nola. This could end very, very badly.”
“I understand your concern, Jaxson. I do. And I appreciate it. Just know that I won’t do anything stupid, I promise.”
“I think it’s too late for that.”
I frowned at him. “You’re not going to tell Beau, are you? Because you and I both know that I have a better chance than he does when it comes to covert activity.”
Jaxson hesitated for a moment before giving a single reluctant nod.
“Good. Because I need your uncle Bernie’s help. He thinks like a cop and knows all the players. But I wanted to ask you first because Bernie’s not as young as he used to be, and I don’t want him to get involved unless you think he’s healthy and strong enough. And if you think we can protect his identity. I really need his help, but I won’t ask him if you don’t think I should.”
He gripped his knees and looked down at the rug, his brows knitted. Eventually, he looked up and met my eyes. “I guess I’ll have to ask him.”
I felt my ribs expand, releasing some of the stress I’d been feeling ever since my conversation with Sam. “Thank you,” I said. “I really appreciate it.”
“Is there anything specific you’re thinking about?”
“Right now, I was just hoping he could look at the clientele book. Maybe with his professional eye he can figure out something we haven’t been able to.”
Jaxson surprised me with a wide grin. “You really are your father’s daughter, aren’t you?”
“Why do you say that?”
“Your attention to detail, for starters. And your tenacity at digging out crumbs that other people might dismiss as irrelevant. Or coincidence.”
“Because there’s no such thing as coincidence.” We turned at the sound of Jolene’s voice. Her hair had been brushed and sprayed, and her lips shone with a fresh coat of lipstick, but she wore the same jeans and flats. This, and the clientele book she carried, meant she’d probably been spending most of her time listening instead of primping. “I figured I’d save you some time and get this for you to take to Uncle Bernie.”
Jaxson immediately stood and took the book, then placed it on the coffee table. With a grin, he said, “You heard every word, didn’t you?”
Jolene looked offended. “Is a frog’s butt watertight? How else was I supposed to know what’s going on with the two of you whispering in here like two snakes in the grass?”
“I was hoping to spare you from getting involved.” I crossed my arms. “If I’d wanted you to know, I would have already told you.”
Smiling cheerfully, Jolene said, “Well, it’s too late now. I guess you can call me a coconspirator.”
Jaxson turned back to me. “There’s something else that you’re not telling me, isn’t there?”
“What makes you think that?” I swallowed as I pushed aside the memory of the creepy black shadow I’d seen in the video, not sure I could explain that to anyone. Except Melanie. Or Beau. And not sure I even wanted to. Besides Melanie’s love for organization, I seemed to have also acquired her tendency to ignore anything unpleasant in the hope that it would go away. Or until it exploded in my face. Unfortunately, I had to experience everything more than once before I learned the hard way.
“I’m a public defender—remember? I’ve acquired a sixth sense about people holding back information.”
“Fine. There is one more thing.” I looked between Jaxson and Jolene. “I’m pretty sure Beau’s grandfather is still around. We’ve both smelled his pipe smoke a few times at the house.” I would keep the anomaly I’d seen in the video to myself. For now. At least until I could talk to Beau and make sure I wasn’t imagining it.
