Page 84 of The House on Prytania
“You didn’t answer my question about why your uncle wanted you to break into my house.”
Michael rubbed his palms against his pants. “You’ll be happy to know that I asked him after you found out that Jeanne was my great-aunt.”
“When you ran away to North Carolina.”
“Right. When I ran away. Because I was confused and needed answers that only my uncle could provide.”
“And?” I prompted.
“He said he didn’t know why, only that on his deathbed Antoine told Uncle Robert to always be on the lookout for anything that might be related to Jeanne’s murder, because it might reflect badly on the family. Not because it would imply any guilt. He understood thatafter his death others might try to drag his reputation through the mud in retaliation for his success. Which is exactly what is happening now with the Ryans trying to dig up anything they can find.”
“And your uncle did as he was told. Without question.”
“It’s how he was taught. Uncle Robert married my aunt when he was nineteen and started working for my great-grandfather and my grandfather Carl. Eventually, my dad, Marco, joined the business. Because Antoine only had his one surviving daughter, Marguerite, he groomed his son-in-law and grandson to take over one day. His way of doing business is ingrained in them. And after my parents bolted, and when my grandfather was dying from cancer, my uncle Robert took over as Antoine’s heir apparent and right-hand man.
“He inherited the company when Antoine died and now it bears his name, although everyone knows that Antoine Broussard was behind all of it. It’s why my uncle is respected in New Orleans. It’s why he strictly adheres to Antoine’s way of doing things.”
I hadn’t taken another step toward my bike, but I hadn’t returned to the bench, either. “Even now that Antoine is dead, you and your uncle both do things without question because they’re what your great-grandfather would have done.”
“How do you think great dynasties are built, Nola? Look at the Kennedys. The Medicis. Even the British royal family. They survived because of loyalty and purpose.”
“I think you need to find better comparisons, Michael, if you plan to use your argument elsewhere. It’s hard to overlook illegal activities, poisoning, and beheading.”
He gave an exasperated sigh. “I meant within reason, of course. I was just trying to make you understand what would make a person agree to do something without asking why. Do you see now?”
I wanted to walk away right then. Whether what Michael was telling me was true or not, and whether or not he and his uncle were simply carrying out the orders of a man who had died—supposedly—decades before, the Broussard-Hebert-Sabatier family weren’t the kind of people who would want to hear the truth. Or face theconsequences if it were publicly revealed. Mimi was right. Revealing it would be suicide. Or deeply and permanently regretted. I couldn’t help but wonder if this was the choice Adele kept trying to tell Beau about, a mother’s warning from beyond the grave to protect her son.
Yet the stubbornness in me rebelled against an entire family claiming innocence for a murder and kidnapping simply because they were doing what they’d been brought up to do. I could still adhere to the original plan and not tell Beau anything that I might discover. But that didn’t mean I had to stop looking.
I moved back to the bench and sat down. I watched a blue heron sweep down from a tree on Bird Island in the middle of the lagoon, and skitter across the water’s surface before rising again with a tiny fish flapping in its beak. “Yes. I do see. I’m not sure I agree with it, but I do get it.” I forced myself to smile with understanding. Apparently Sunny wasn’t the only one with acting skills.
He sat down again, this time close enough that our legs touched, and smiled with relief. “I knew you would. And I’m so glad we had this conversation before you met them. They truly are wonderful people, and I didn’t want you going in thinking they were monsters.”
I continued to smile. “Of course not.”
Michael turned to face me. “There’s another reason why I asked you here today.”
I raised my eyebrows to show casual interest and to disguise the alarm bells ringing out in my head.
“It’s about the fund-raiser party Mimi is throwing for the cathedral. In the past my aunt and uncle avoided many of the charities and committees that Mimi Ryan is involved with, due to the misunderstandings between the families. But Aunt Angelina wants to change that. She and Uncle Robert recently made a sizable donation to the fund for the renovation of the cathedral, so they should have received an invitation by now but they haven’t. They were hoping that if I asked you, you might be able to talk with Mimi. They really are eager to extend an olive branch, and what better way than through a mutual love for the cathedral?”
“What better way?” I repeated, wondering how I’d be able to talk Mimi into sending an invitation to the people she suspected of attempting to ruin her life.
“So you’ll talk to her?”
“Of course. I mean, your aunt and uncle are inviting me to spend the weekend at their beach house. That’s certainly a good opening, right?”
“Right!” he said, standing, then reaching for my hands to pull me up. “I’m so relieved we’re on the same page. I’m not sure if most people would be as sympathetic as you are. You’re really one in a million.” Without warning, he placed a hand on either side of my face and pulled me toward him. I just managed to turn my head in time for him to place a kiss on my cheek.
“We’re just friends, remember?” I said, pulling back.
“Sorry. I got carried away. Wearefriends. But I’d be lying if I said I’m not hoping that you might give me the chance to become more. In time, of course.”
I just smiled, unable to find a suitable response that didn’t involve throwing up, then headed for our bikes. We finished riding around the oval path in tandem since more bicyclists had descended on the park, making the lanes crowded with both bikes and pedestrians. I felt relief not having to make any more conversation with Michael, his words still tumbling around my brain and refusing to settle into any conventional slots where I could make sense of them.
CHAPTER 28
After exiting the park, we crossed St. Charles Avenue and I pointed my bike toward Broadway to head home. “Do you want something to drink? My house is right here,” he said, indicating the arched entranceway over Audubon Place.
