Page 92 of The House on Prytania
“Only partly. But he had to try. I finally convinced him that hehad done what he could and to get out of town while he still could. So he did, and joined me in North Carolina, where we watched in horror as the levees broke and the streets flooded. It was made worse because we had no communication with Marco and his family, so we had no idea if they had survived until two weeks later, when Robert finally returned to New Orleans and found them barricaded in their house.”
“Why haven’t you told this to Mimi and Beau Ryan?”
“Because I can’t.” Her darkening eyes met mine. “I’ve tried—multiple times. But each time they demand some kind of reckoning for what my grandfather may or may not have done. As I’ve already told you, it’s better not to have anything to do with him or say his name. Nothing good can come of it.”
“Then why are you telling me?”
“Because Michael has told me about your stepmother, Melanie Trenholm, and how you’re familiar with the paranormal world. Maybe not how it all works, but at least enough to believe the unbelievable, and to accept things that others might not.”
“Okay...” I said slowly.
“Robert and I have decided that it’s long past time that we mend fences with the Ryans. Our families were quite close at one time, working toward the betterment of our shared city through various charities and community projects. Out of our sorrow for the tragedy of the Ryans’ daughter’s abduction and their suspicions about us, we slowly dropped out of all shared interests and resigned our board positions. It was incredibly sad, but we knew it was necessary. I understood what the loss of a child felt like, and I didn’t want to add to their grief.”
“So why now?”
She smiled brightly. “Because it’s time. And because you’ve given us an in. You’re the perfect bridge to facilitate a reconciliation.”
I almost laughed, remembering Beau telling me practically the same thing. Except instead of reconciliation, his motivation had been revenge.
“And how do you propose I do that?”
“Since you’ve now met us and know what sort of people we are and have heard our story, we are hoping that you could share it with the Ryans. So that they will feel willing to publicly welcome us back into society.”
Sitting back in my chair, I smiled smugly. “Yeah, Michael mentioned it. You want me to ask Mimi to invite you to the cathedral building fund-raiser.”
I respected Angelina even more when she didn’t feign surprise. “Yes. We’ve already made a sizable donation to the cathedral, so technically we should be on the list. But it’s in two weeks, and we still haven’t received our invitation. I’m not naïve enough to believe it’s an oversight.”
I thought of everything I’d seen and heard since my arrival, not the least how Robert had attempted to evacuate his tenants. These were not the type of people I imagined kidnapping children. Or willingly hiding evidence from a decades-old murder. Other family members, probably. But not them. Angelina and Robert were the kind of people to take in their nephew and niece and raise them as if they were their own. Assuming everything they’d told me was true, I had to agree that it was time.Ifit was true. I’d learned long ago not to assume anything.
“What would you like me to do?” I asked.
“I need you to tell Mimi and Beau what I’ve just told you. That Robert and I had nothing to do with Sunny’s abduction. They won’t listen to me, but maybe they’ll listen to you. We have become social pariahs in New Orleans, and it’s time for that to change.”
“I understand. All I can say right now is that I will try. Although you should know that I will do my due diligence and check out all the facts as you’ve shared them with me.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t expect anything less.” She pressed her hands together, the fingertips turning white. “Please excuse me for repeating myself, but it’s imperative that you understand.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“When you speak with Mimi and Beau, no one can say my grandfather’s name out loud. He’s very dangerous. Even now.” She gave me a knowing look. “If I knew how to get him to go away permanently, I would. Right now, I’ve learned that it’s best we don’t disturb him. Or he might come back with a vengeance.”
I bit my lip at the memory of my house going berserk when no one was inside, and of the ominous shadow figure lurking in the upstairs hallway. I pushed back my chair and stood. “I can only promise that I’ll try.”
Angelina surprised me by embracing me in a warm hug. “I understand. I really do. I know that you will try.”
I pulled away and nodded. “Of course I will. Your grandfather doesn’t need to know anything about it,” I said, smiling at Angelina despite recalling being locked in a closet while a phrase in my head repeated itself nonstop:It’s too late.
CHAPTER 31
I was sitting up in bed with a book, reading the same sentence over and over as I replayed in my head the events of the day. I had expected the Sabatiers to be monsters, and not the kind, doting aunt and uncle Michael had said they were. I had to keep reminding myself that Angelina and her brother Marco were the murdered Jeanne Broussard’s niece and nephew, the children of Jeanne’s only sister, Marguerite, and her husband, Carl Hebert. And that Angelina was the granddaughter of Antoine Broussard. I had to keep reminding myself of that fact, that Michael’s beloved aunt was a blood relative of an evil man whose influence was still felt even years after his death.
Either Angelina and Robert were brilliant actors, or they were just desperate to cover up two crimes that might or might not have directly involved them. Or maybe none of the above. What if they were as innocent as they claimed? Was it even possible for generations of a family to turn a blind eye to the actions of a beloved patriarch? Or to be so loyal that any request would be indiscriminately followed?
I wanted to believe that I was a better person. That my answer to all the above would be an automatic no. But I couldn’t forget all the times I had lied for my mother, Bonnie, to keep her out of jail andaway from trouble. To let her believe that she was a better mother than she was. And I thought of Jack and Melanie, and everything they had done for me and given to me, and how much I loved them and JJ and Sarah. I considered what I would and would not do to protect them, and I could suddenly and very clearly see how my answer could be yes.
Yet none of that seemed to matter now. Of all those reasonings I had tossed around like salad in my head before my conversation with Angelina, I hadn’t even considered the one thing that now appeared to be the most obvious. If Angelina’s palpable anxiety at the mere mention of Antoine’s name was real, everything else made sense. I knew firsthand why she was petrified of stirring her long-dead relative. So was I. Fear was a powerful motivator.
I started at a quick tapping on my door, my book sliding off the tall bed.
