Page 17 of The House on Prytania
I shook my head, liking Sunny Ryan a little bit more. “No. I still have my dad and my stepmother, and a brother and sister. They’re pretty much an answer to a dream I never thought I’d had. And now you have a brother and a grandmother. They’re not a replacement, but they’re a great ‘instead of,’ you know? Even though both your biological parents and adoptive parents are no longer here, you know that you were wanted. And loved.” I hoped she hadn’t heard the hitch in my voice. I hadn’t meant to be talking about myself.
She didn’t smile, only nodded, then led me over to the pair of chairs and sat down in one. As I sat, she looked nervously at the closed door behind me. “Sorry—I just want to make sure that nobody can hear.”
Sunny sat on the edge of her seat and leaned forward, then waiteduntil I’d done the same before she spoke. With a low voice, she said, “I need your help.”
My brows lifted. Of all the things I thought she might say, this wasn’t anywhere near the top twenty. “My help? Doing what?” I looked around at the sparse room. “If it’s decorating ideas, you’re better off sticking with Jenny the designer. Or Jolene. Assuming you want everything monogrammed.”
She smiled briefly. “No, it’s not that. It’s a little more complicated. It’s... Beau.”
I thought she might be joking, so I gave a little laugh and said, “Then it can’t bethatcomplicated, right? I mean, he’s a guy. Definitely not any more complicated than a dog. Or cat. As long as their basic needs are met, they’re pretty content.”
I sobered when I saw that she wasn’t laughing. “He wants to find a way to get back at the people who kidnapped me. But Mimi said they’re very dangerous and that he should drop it because I’m back now and it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Okay...” I said, thinking about the two similar conversations I’d recently had with both Beau and Sam. “And you think I might be able to persuade him not to?”
“Partly.” She dropped her eyes to stare at the tattoo on her inner wrist. With her gaze still averted, she added, “But I don’t think that would be enough. Which is why I’m asking you to work with me to figure out how to bring them to justice without involving Beau. We can throw him red herrings to keep him busy while we do the real work. I just... found him. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to him.” Sunny paused, lifted her eyes. “Mimi’s really scared me. But I’m not the kind of person to allow the people responsible to walk free, you know? It’s not right. I just figured that you and I would have a better chance of getting info than Beau. They’re probably waiting for him to do something, so he’s already in their sights. But not us.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Have you been speaking with Samantha?”
At her blank look, I added, “His girlfriend and podcast partner.”
“I know who she is. Why would you ask?”
“Because she and I just had an almost identical conversation. I told her I didn’t want to get involved because... well, it would mean me rekindling a relationship with Michael Hebert, a close family relation to the people responsible for your abduction. I thought I’d made it clear that I would rather stick knitting needles in my eyeballs than ever speak with him again, but she thinks I’m considering it because I should want to get back at Michael. You can ask Beau if you want to know all the sordid details.”
“I know. He told me. Which made me think you might be up for some revenge.”
I stood. “Why does everyone seem to think I’m motivated by revenge? I just want to leave it all behind me.”
She held my gaze. “Even if it means saving a life? Because Beau’s not going to stop until the Broussard family stops him. Permanently. I couldn’t live with myself if that happened. Could you?”
I was spared from answering by a soft knock on the door and then Jolene’s voice from the other side. “Is everything all right?”
I gratefully opened the door. “Yeah. We were just chatting and getting to know each other.” I felt Sunny watching me.
“I’ve been sent to let you know that supper is on the table. I don’t know about y’all, but I’m so hungry I could eat the butt off a hobbyhorse.”
Sunny approached, and I smelled the faint scent of cigarettes again. With an accent that mimicked Jolene’s, Sunny said, “And I’m so hungry I could eat the paint off the walls.”
Jolene sent her an appreciative look. “Well, my goodness, Sunny. You sound just like my cousin Speedy. Her real name is Darlene, but no one has ever called her that, since she’s slow as molasses, but she was born and raised in the Mississippi Delta and has an accent to prove it.”
Sunny absently rubbed at her wrist tattoo, reminding me of Beau and his rubber-band-snapping habit. “Thank you. I’m a quick study. I guess I had to be. With my dad’s job in the Air Force and us movingaround so much, I picked up accents wherever we lived, just to fit in. I think I learned that one when Dad was stationed at Barksdale, in Bossier City, Louisiana.”
“Well, I’m impressed, and that’s saying something.” Jolene stepped out into the hallway. “We should hurry. There’s nothing worse than cold hush puppies.”
Sunny put a hand on my arm, holding me back. In an almost-whisper, she said, “Will you think about what I said?”
She dropped her hand, her gaze lingering on mine for a long moment before she followed Jolene into the hall and down the stairs. I paused in the doorway, her words having hit me like a hard shove. My stomach churned as I saw from Sunny’s perspective my reluctance to help—a petty, self-absorbed reaction to a betrayal, and embarrassment about having been played. Yes, Michael had broken my heart and I wasn’t completely sure that I was over him. Yet I couldn’t dismiss the small tingle of excitement at the possibility of revenge. Or the actuality that I might protect Beau from real harm.
I hurried down the steps to where Sunny and Jolene waited for me in front of Charles Ryan’s portrait in the foyer. A cool breeze blew at my face, moving my hair. Sunny shivered, her gaze darting between Jolene and me. “Please don’t think I’m weird or anything, but is this house supposed to be haunted?”
We found ourselves gazing at the portrait of Charles Ryan, his painted eyes boring into mine. “Well,” Jolene said, “it would depend on how you define the word ‘haunted,’ but I will share with you two of the most important things my grandmama taught me.” She began counting off points, starting with her thumb. “The first is that all old houses are full of memories of those who’ve passed on, so cold spots and shadows are as much a part of the house as wood rot and creaky floors.”
She dropped her hand and headed toward the dining room, and Sunny and I followed her like ducklings waiting for bread crumbs. “What’s the second thing?” Sunny asked.
Jolene paused at the threshold. With a serious voice, she said, “Never iron or fry chicken naked.”
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