Page 68 of The Lady on Esplanade
“Felicity…” Beau began.
“I’m just stating facts.In spite of his having admitted to kidnapping under extenuating circumstances, he is not a murderer.”Her chin quivered as she attempted to control her emotions.I wanted to stand up and go to her, but I was almost relieved that my broken ankle meant that I couldn’t.I didn’t know Felicity well, but as I watched her now she reminded me of a wounded animal; her eyes were sharp and she was ready to bite if anyone came too near.
Bernie cleared his throat.“I’ve spoken with the detectives involved with the interrogation, and they’ve promised to call me when they’re done.However, from what we know so far, it would appear that Robert Sabatier is innocent—of murder, at least.With the timeline of his whereabouts when Adele disappeared, as well as verified witness accounts and a paper trail that confirms the presence of both Robert and Angelina Sabatier in North Carolina and not here, it’s doubtful that they will be able to connect him to what happened to your mother.”
“Adele,” she corrected.Felicity lifted her head and rubbed her eyes with the backs of her hands.“But she didn’t accidentally bury herself on the grounds of Charity Hospital,” she said, almost defiantly.It seemed as if she was trying very hard to be impartial.Maybe she thought that if she invested her emotions in the circumstances surrounding her biological mother’s death, it would seem disloyal to the family who’d raised her and with whom she still felt enough of a familial connection to keep the name they’d given her and limit communication with the grandmother and brother who’d never stopped looking for her.She lifted her chin.“So we’re looking at a murder.”
“Most likely,” Beau said before draining his glass.I licked my lips again, as if the memory would be enough.
“Do you want me to go see if Jolene needs any help?”Beau placed his glass on a side table outside of my field of vision.
As if summoned, Jolene and Camille returned from the kitchen with two trays containing small espresso cups and plates of biscotti, all beautiful antique Limoges china.I almost smiled at the image of Mimi, in the depths of her grief, still managing to be the consummate New Orleans hostess.
Jolene set a plate of biscotti on the coffee table in front of the sofa and handed me a delicate cup and saucer, two yellow pills tucked neatly against the cup.“There’s plenty more where that came from, but you might want to take it easy on the caffeine, according to the instructions Dr.Longo sent with your pain meds.I made the executive decision that one little espresso couldn’t hurt, and those of us who would have to live with an uncaffeinated Nola are all in unspoken agreement.”
Cooper covered his laugh with a cough as he accepted an espresso cup from Jolene.“I wish I could stay to make sure she gets enough of both caffeine and pain meds, but I wasn’t able to cancel my trip.”
“Thanks, but I’ll manage,” I said.“Mimi has insisted that she and Camille will be on hand to make sure I have what I need, and Henry is living here now, so if I need assistance moving from the bed to the couch, he’s here.Besides, I’ve got my crutches, so it’s no big deal.”The thought of Henry being in charge of anything did make me worry, but the knowledge that Beau would be nearby was more than a little reassuring.
“Where’s Sarah?”I asked, sniffing the rich aroma of my espresso before taking a grateful sip.
“She’s with Mimi,” Jolene said.“They’re talking about Beau’s special gift—and why he has chosen not to speak with his mama.Sarah wanted to know if she could help.”
I sat up straighter, wincing as my foot fell off the stack of pillows.“Help with lunch prep?”I asked hopefully.When I’d first asked Melanie if Sarah could join me for Thanksgiving, I’d received the oft-repeated speech that Sarah wasn’t a party trick and that I needed to be mindful that she was only twelve.I’d been offended, because I’dknown this without having to be told.As Sarah approached puberty her abilities would get stronger, as Melanie herself had experienced.We needed to tread carefully to prevent her being scarred for life, either by the spirits she’d encounter or by the clueless individuals who would think it cool that my sister could talk to the dead.
“I’m not sure,” Jolene said with hesitation, picking up on the looks between Beau and me.
“I’m taking that to means she’ssensitive,” Camille said as she placed a plate of biscotti on the table between Bernie and Beau.
“She’s what I like to callintuitive,” I said.“She senses vibes from her surroundings.Like this house.All old houses, really.”
I felt Beau looking at me but didn’t say anything because he understood why I needed to protect my sister.She was young enough to be emotionally wounded by unwanted attention, even from someone as innocuous as Camille.
Camille stood behind Beau, blending into the scenery with her brown sweater and pants.Henry had been decked out in burgundy and plaid, his socks—no doubt washed and folded and put away by Camille—matching his shirt.She’d probably bought them for him and laid them out for him to wear.
She gave a little sniff and dabbed at her eyes with a wadded tissue, letting me know that Mimi must have told her everything.It was beyond my hope that Sarah hadn’t been following the conversation.“So it was just a robbery?They killed Adele for her jewelry?”
“It’s too soon to know,” Beau said gently.He’d stood when Camille and Jolene had entered, and he remained standing.
“I need to let Henry know.”Camille glanced around with the frantic look of a chipmunk avoiding an owl.Her monochromatic brown clothing meant that I would never be able to remove that analogy from my head.“Has anyone seen my phone?”
“Maybe you left it in the kitchen,” I suggested.I wanted to add that it didn’t matter; that Henry didn’t seem the type to care one wayor another that Adele had been confirmed dead and possibly been murdered.
She gave a quick nod of thanks, reminding me of a chipmunk again, and left the room with quick, silent steps.
My eyelids began to droop, either from the pain meds or from the weight of the recent revelations.Or, as my addled brain insisted, from Beau’s emotions, which my body seemed to absorb.Which was ridiculous, considering that Beau and I weren’t even what I’d call friends.
“Nola?”My eyes flickered open at the sound of Cooper’s voice.
“Hmm?”I tried a smile, but only half of my mouth paid attention.
“I think I need to get you into bed.”
“I hardly think I’m in any condition for that, but maybe later?”I listened in horror to my slurred words, wondering who had put them in my head and thought it okay to say them out loud.
Cooper made a strangled sound that could have been a laugh, and then another male voice—Beau’s, I thought—said, “I’ll help you.”
“That’s all right.I’ve got it.”Cooper’s voice sounded close to my ear, and then I felt gentle hands sliding beneath me.After the initial shock, I relaxed into him, feeling supported and comforted at the same time.
