Dangerous Mercy: A Novel (5 page)

“Actually, you’re just in time. By the way, do you have any idea where Flynn is? He borrowed my car.”

“No. He came in Zoe B’s looking for me this afternoon, and I told the waitress to tell him I wasn’t there.”

“Why?” A row of lines formed on Father Vince’s forehead, his dark curls tighter from the day’s humidity.

“Because I paid him to help me move Adele Woodmore’s furniture, and he only did half the job. I had to call Noah to help me move it back because Flynn was nowhere to be found. That on top of all the other times he’s flaked out, and I’m done. Flynn’s lazy and dishonest. Please don’t ask me to cut him any more slack.”

“Not every homeless man readjusts to the real world as smoothly as you and Noah have.”

“But the other guys are trying. Flynn isn’t.”

“Because he keeps messing up?” Father Vince sighed. “I think he’s trying to do better and just can’t get his act together.”

“Tell yourself whatever you want. But it’s not helping him that you make excuses for him.”

Father Vince put his hands in his pockets. “I’m well aware of Flynn’s shortcomings. I just don’t believe it’s time to give up on him.”

“I don’t have that problem. Flynn knows the rules. He’s laughing because you let him manipulate you. Maybe that doesn’t bother you, but it infuriates me.”

“A lot of things bother me worse—like letting go of a man God put in my care.” Father Vince took a step closer to Murray and patted him on the back. “There has to be a way to turn Flynn around. We’re family here. We need to have patience and keep reaching out. Especially those of you who are good examples for him to follow.”

Murray glanced at his watch. “I’ve got just enough time to go wash my hands and get the table set.”

“So you’ll do what you can to help Flynn?”

“All right, Father. I’ll do it for you.”

Murray walked through the living room and up the stairs. He turned into his dorm room—and ran headlong into Flynn.

“Where’ve
you
been?” Murray said. “Father Vince has been waiting for you to come back with his car. Why didn’t you tell him you were here?”

“Oops.”

Murray shoved him. “Thanks for flaking out on me again, moron.”

“Sorry, man. I forgot about moving the furniture until it was too late. I tried to find you at Zoe B’s and say I was sorry, but they told me you weren’t there.”

“Just don’t expect me to share any more of my jobs.”

“I said I was sorry.”

“Yeah, we both know what your words are worth. You don’t have any intention of bettering yourself. You’re just working the system. You may have Father Vince fooled, but not me.”

“Someone’s touchy.”

“
Touchy?”
Murray grabbed Flynn’s T-shirt. “Try fed up! I’ve had all of you I can take.”

“Now that really hurts my feelings.” Flynn’s tone was mocking, his smile irritating. “Father Vince said we’re supposed to treat each other like brothers.”

Murray remembered the promise he had just made to Father Vince and let go of Flynn’s T-shirt. He held up his palms. “Sorry,
brother
. You just get on my nerves.”

“Yeah, I had a
real
brother once,” Flynn said. “I got on his nerves too. Know what happened to him?”

“Can’t imagine.”

“He went missing. Disappeared one day. Just like that.” Flynn snapped his fingers. “No one’s heard from him since. Tragic.”

“Just stay away from me.” Murray took a step backwards. “You’re one sick dude.”

“And don’t you forget it.” Flynn cocked his head and laughed.

Murray went into the bathroom and locked the door, his face sizzling with annoyance. Father Vince had better wise up about Flynn. He heard another voice in the hallway.

“You’re a real jerk, you know that?” Noah said.

“I’ve been called worse.” Flynn laughed. “If you came up here to lecture me, save it.”

“You got a lot o’ nerve threatenin’ Murray.”

“I was just messing with him, man. Get your stinking hands off me.”

“Everybody here’s had it with you.”

“So?”

“So you’d better watch your back.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Anything you want, Flynn. I’m just sayin’ you can’t keep tickin’ everybody off and expect them to roll over.”

“I’m here to stay. Get used to it.”

“Yeah, well. We’ll see about that.”

CHAPTER 5

What was that horrible ringing noise? Sheriff Jude Prejean lay dazed for a moment, then groped the nightstand for his cell phone. He stared at the lighted screen until he could make out the words
Chief Detective Gil Marcel.
His clock radio flashed the numerals 5:57. He remembered it was Wednesday morning.

Jude cleared his throat and put the phone to his ear. “Yeah, Gil.”

“Hope I didn’t wake you, Sheriff.”

“That’s all right. My alarm was just about to go off. What’s up?”

“You’re not going to like it.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“Our killer claimed another victim
: Peter Gautier
.”

“Gautier? That’s
huge
.” He looked over at his wife, Colette, who lay on her side facing him, her eyes open wide. “Same MO?”

“Looks that way. Gautier was drowned in the bathtub. Fully clothed. The medical examiner says he shows signs of being drugged. The pound sign and numeral two were spray painted on the tile behind the tub. His safe was cleaned out. The ME puts the time of death between five and seven last night. The killer must have caught him coming home from work.”

“Any sign of forced entry?”

“A broken window in a back bedroom.”

Jude sighed. “Who called it in?”

“Anonymous male caller on a prepaid cell. Spoke barely above a whisper, and said six words, ‘Peter Gautier is dead. That’s two.’ The 911 dispatcher sent deputies out to Gautier’s lake house, where they discovered his body. We retrieved a message his wife left on his answering machine. She’s out of town, visiting their daughter. The area code is Providence, Rhode Island, and we’re trying to reach her now. I imagine the entire parish will know within the hour that the president and CEO of Fontaine Sugar Refinery has been murdered.”

“And I don’t need to tell you that we can’t afford any mistakes.” Jude rubbed his eyes. “Make sure the crime scene isn’t contaminated and everything gets done by the book. And get me a list of every employee, living or dead, who was laid off, fired, or who quit in the past five years, cross-referenced with the list of foreclosures by Roux River Bank. I also want to take a look at the security cameras at the sugar plant, especially the ones in the parking lot. Let’s see if anyone followed him. I’ll be out there in thirty minutes.”

Jude laid his cell phone on the nightstand and turned his alarm off.

“I could hear what Gil told you.” Colette fluffed her pillow. “Horrible as it is, you’ve been expecting the other shoe to drop.”

“At least now we can see a logical connection between the two victims. The killer could be someone who was laid off at the sugar refinery and then lost his home to foreclosure. We should be able to narrow down those names.” He kissed her on the cheek. “I need to shower and get going.”

He started to get out of bed, and Colette clung to his arm.

“Jude, this is scary. What if the killer has a long list of people he’s after?”

“I think that’s a real possibility. I’m putting the executives and support personnel at all five branches of Roux River Bank and the sugar refinery on high alert. My department can work with police to help beef up security at each location, but it’s impossible to keep them all safe twenty-four/seven.”

Adele sat at the bay window in the kitchen, her hands wrapped around a cup of coffee, her heart relishing the streaks of blazing pink and purple that painted what little sky she could see through the tree branches out back.

Had it really been six months since she’d sold Woodmore Estates and moved here? It hadn’t been an easy decision. But the huge old house and manicured grounds demanded constant attention, and just keeping good help was becoming too much for her.

But how she missed the magnificent magnolia trees that lined either side of the circle drive … the sweeping lawns dotted with weeping willows, dogwoods, crape myrtles, and hardwoods … the white gazebo where she stopped to rest and think and pray after strolling through the rose garden.

She smiled and looked across the quarter acre of backyard shaded by a mature live oak and two magnolia trees. All she needed these days was Noah to fertilize and mow and take care of her flower beds—and for the automatic sprinklers to supply whatever water Mother Nature didn’t. Her heart was her gazebo. It didn’t take the beauty of Woodmore Estates to remind her that almighty God was on His throne, and His glory could be found in all of nature.

She heard a knock, and Isabel came into the kitchen, wearing the pink terry bathrobe Adele had bought her for her birthday. “Am I disturbing you?”

“Not at all. Come have a cup of coffee—and use the good china. It’s a shame for it to just sit there looking lovely. It was meant to be used.”

“Would you like a warmer?”

“Not just yet, thanks.”

Isabel opened the glass door and took out a delicate Wedgwood cup and saucer—Florentine Turquoise pattern. She filled the cup with coffee, then sat at the table, her long, dark wavy hair framing her pretty face and puppy eyes. Why did she look so glum?

“What’s wrong, hon?”

“The morning news was depressing. Did you hear there’s been another murder?”

“Goodness, no. Who now?”

Isabel held tightly to her coffee cup. “Peter Gautier, the CEO of the sugar refinery. I went to high school with his daughter.”

Adele sighed and shook her head. “Do the authorities think it was the same killer?”

“Sure looks that way. He was drowned in the bathtub, like Darveau. And the number two was spray painted on the tile behind the tub. Everybody’s freaking out that there could be more victims. They’re calling him ‘the Bathtub Killer.’”

“Heaven help us.”

“Mr. Gautier gave me a ride home from a football game once. He was really nice. I know people are upset that he’s laid off so many workers, but that’s happening everywhere. My dad says the economy’s causing it. I can’t believe somebody murdered him for doing what CEOs everywhere are doing.”

Adele nodded. “It’s a terrible thing. But it’s complicated. And emotions run deep. Many families were hurt in the layoffs, and I understand that many lost their homes.”

“Well, Renee just lost her dad. I think that’s pretty horrible.”

Adele put her hand on Isabel’s. “Yes, it is. Did you know Renee well?”

“In high school. She went away to a girls’ college in Rhode Island and married some guy she met on a ski trip. I think she lives in Providence and has a couple kids now. I haven’t seen her in years.”

“Did you hear whether authorities have any suspects?”

“I don’t know. But they think the 911 call was from the killer. Maybe they can trace it.”

Adele took a sip of lukewarm coffee. “I spent the biggest part of my life on a hundred-acre estate in the country and was virtually sheltered from all this. It was a different world.”

“I grew up here in Les Barbes. We never had problems like this until three years ago when Remy Jarvis was lynched by that nutcase who came looking for Zoe.”

Adele looked at her hands, remembering.

“Didn’t you tell me Zoe worked for you once?”

Adele nodded. “She was a live-in member of my household staff at Woodmore many years ago.”

“How did she go from working for you to owning Zoe B’s?”

“It’s a long story, hon. It’s personal.”

“You’re too humble to say it, but I just know you helped her get started.”

“It would be a mistake to make assumptions.” Adele traced the pattern on her saucer. “Our paths crossed by divine appointment—and our friendship today is totally by God’s grace.”

“Well, speaking of Grace, you’ve got the cutest little godchild on the planet.”

“Thank you. She’s an angel—the granddaughter I never had. Relocating here was a bold move. But I’m adjusting to the
simplicity
—and I love living near Grace, Zoe, and Pierce. They’re like family now.” Adele glanced up at Isabel’s somber expression. “I didn’t mean to get sidetracked. I’m so sorry about Renee’s father being murdered. I want you to feel free to take time off to go to the funeral or to be with the family.”

Isabel nodded. “I appreciate that. I can only imagine how rattled the sheriff and police chief must be, waiting for a third victim.”

Zoe stood at the work table in the kitchen at Zoe B’s where Pierce had laid out small bowls, each containing ingredients he would need to make the breakfast entr
é
es.

She popped the last of a beignet into her mouth, brushing the powdered sugar off her chin. “You outdid yourself on these today,
cher
.”

“Think so, eh?” Pierce slid an omelet onto a plate, added two links of boudin, crispy potatoes, a thin slice of orange, and a sprig of mint. “What time is Grace’s checkup?”

“Nine. I’ll take her over to Adele’s afterward and come back here until after lunch.”

“I hope she’s not wearing the poor woman out.”

“Adele’s got Isabel to help. They love having Grace there.”

Pierce lifted his gaze, his eyebrows furrowed. “Babe, are you sure those guys from Haven House are not going to be over there working?”

“Positive.”

“I’m just not comfortable with Grace being around them—or you and Adele being around them, for that matter.”

“Murray’s a really nice guy.”

“But nobody knows anything about him, not even Father Vince. How is that different from Grace being around a stranger?”

“She isn’t really
around
him. He’s off working in another room—like he was when he was here hooking up our computer.”

“What about that long-haired guy—Fred, Frank—”

“Flynn.” Zoe took a sip of orange juice. “He just came to help Murray move Adele’s furniture. He won’t be doing any work for her.”

Pierce bit his lip the way he did when he was irritated.

Zoe linked her arm in his. “It’s not like we do a background check on the repairmen that come in here either. They’re all strangers to us. At some point, we have to trust people.”

“Trust isn’t my strong point—especially where Grace is concerned.”

“All right.” She unlinked her arm, grabbed a mushroom, and popped it into her mouth. “I won’t leave Grace with her when she’s got Murray working over there.”

“You don’t have to look at me like I’m the bad guy.”

“Actually, you’re the good guy. You’re just ultraprotective.”

“You mean overprotective.”

“I said what I meant, Pierce. You are extremely protective of Grace and me. I don’t know if that makes you
over
protective—though it is a real pain once in a while.”

He smiled sheepishly. “I know. Heaven help her when she starts dating.”

Zoe kissed him on the cheek. “Let’s just get her to kindergarten first, deal?”

“Deal.”

“I’d better go make sure she hasn’t gotten syrup on her dress before we leave. I’m sure she’s charmed Hebert into sharing bites of his pain perdu.”

Zoe pushed open the kitchen door and entered the cozy dining room. Every table was occupied with customers, the hum of their voices more pleasant than background music.