Heather Graham (17 page)

“Don’t you worry none—they’re all chicken bones. I never have offered up a human being for sacrifice,” Mama Lili Mae teased Ann as she watched her view the room.

“Cindy, you get Ann and me a glass of lemonade. Then you and Gregory scat.”

“And do what?” Cindy demanded.

“Take a walk. Talk to Old Billy. Find some wildflowers. Search your soul, commune with your Maker. Heavens, child, I don’t know. Talk to one another, you’re friends, ain’t ya?”

“We’ll be fine,” Gregory told Cindy.

“Sure,” Cindy said, striding to the kitchen area to pour the lemonade as requested. “Old Billy is a nigh-onto-fifteen-foot gator. He’s just who I want to talk to!”

“He’s harmless,” Mama Lili Mae said. “He likes people who talk to him. Now bring us those lemonades and you two skedaddle.”

Cindy brought the lemonade; Ann thanked her, grinning. Cindy grimaced. “We’ll be okay, Mama Lili Mae. What about Mrs. Ann Marcel here?”

“I may be far more dangerous than that gator, child, but I’d bet Mrs. Marcel is willing to take her chances on me, else what would she be doing out here, now, hmm?”

“I think I’ll be fine,” Ann said.

Cindy winked. “Anything else, Mama Lili Mae?” she asked.

“Skedaddle!”

“Come on, then.” Gregory rolled his eyes, caught Cindy’s hand, and led her out. The screen door to the house banged and thumped as they departed.

“Well, now.” Lili Mae sat back on a sofa, eyeing Ann as she relit her pipe. “It’s right good to see you. It’s rare a man talks about his ex-wife with such high praise. That boy set quite a store by you.”

“Jon has been out here?”

Mama Lili Mae nodded her affirmation. “That he did. He told me you were a fine artist, and that you would love my face, and want to paint it.”

“That’s true,” Ann told her with a smile. “I’ve never met anyone with such a wonderful face, so completely filled with knowledge and character.”

Mama Lili Mae accepted the compliment as her due. “Then one day, you’ll come and paint me.”

“If you allow it.”

“I’ve just done so.”

Ann found herself smiling again. She understood why people would brave the swamp to come receive advice and gris-gris dust from Mama Lili Mae.

The old woman suddenly leaned forward. “But that’s to come in the future. Now we must talk about Gina.”

“Apparently, she and Jon were very serious about one another.”

“You knew this?”

Ann shook her head. “No. I knew about his paintings; I had seen the first and a few of the others in various stages. He talked about how much he was enjoying the people he had met; he made me see the people who worked in the clubs in a different light.”

Mama Lili Mae nodded in satisfaction. “Well, he was careful about it, but he meant to marry Gina. Is that a shock to you?”

Ann shook her head. “No. Jon and I are friends. Very good friends. I keep hearing how unusual that is, and it’s probably very true. We have a daughter; we both love her. And we both love art. We share a great deal, but as friends. If he was in love and wished to marry again, I would have been very happy for him.”

“That’s what he said.”

“So what happened?” Ann asked, lost.

Mama Lili Mae sat back, shaking her head. “I don’t know. I only know that she was worried. She had become involved with someone else...well, honestly, Gina had become involved with many people, but whoever this person was, the involvement had gotten too serious for her. The day she died, she came to see me. She asked if she should marry Jon Marcel, if he could love her after the life she had led. She’d had so many men.”

“What did you tell her?”

“I told her that the man didn’t need to love her past to love her. I told her that she should marry him. Make a clean break with the past, and marry him.”

“And then...”

“She was happy with my answer, I think. Very happy. But she was still so anxious. She was going to try to make a clean break with this other lover. I do not know who the lover was; I didn’t demand an answer from her because I had no sense of her danger.” She shook her head again in deep regret and confusion. “Insight...intuition. They are wonderful when they work. I didn’t see what was about to befall her. I was blinded by the promise of happiness for her, perhaps.”

“But you’re as certain as I that—whether he was doused in her blood or not—Jon did not kill Gina.”

“I know that he did not. I know, too, that you feel it is up to you to prove this. You shouldn’t. The police will find the answers.”

“The police have Jon condemned.”

Mama Lili Mae shrugged her shoulders. “The truth will tell. I think that you will put yourself into danger if you don’t take a step back. Go spend your days at the hospital. Sit with Jon. Talk him back to life. Don’t place yourself in this path where death threatens so freely anymore.”

“So you think that I am in danger?”

“Of course you are. Jon is not guilty; someone else is.”

“I wonder if that’s why we found a doll on the way here.”

Mama Lili Mae frowned. “A doll?”

“Yes. It was in the trees.” Ann pulled the little doll out from her jeans pocket where she had stuffed it. “This doll. Is it me?”

Mama Lili Mae took the doll from her with a frown.

“Is it?”

“Yes, most probably.”

“Where would it have come from? Who would have put it in the tree?”

“I don’t know.”

“What does it mean?”

“It’s a warning. It—”

Mama Lili Mae broke off suddenly, staring toward the door. Dismayed. She slipped the little doll unobtrusively into a pocket of her skirt.

Was she frightened, perhaps?

There was someone there. Someone...

Menacing.

Ann felt a sensation at her nape—as if the hairs were rising there. She faced Mama Lili Mae and couldn’t see the door from where she sat. She froze for a second, feeling as if she was in terrible danger, feeling as if a knife could slice into her back at any second.

She jumped up, spinning around, desperate to face whatever danger might be coming her way.

A man stood in the doorway. In the lamplight and shadows she couldn’t see his face at first. Just a form, tall, powerful.

Mama Lili Mae let out her breath with a rattling sound.

And the man stepped forward.

Mark sped over the water, watching the sky as he did so. The summer sun should have lasted longer. The coming storm was snaking across the sky with billowing darkness. Already, the wind was beginning to rise.

He wasn’t far. He wasn’t far at all now. He could see the little alcove where the trail began. He could see the other boats drawn to the shore.

His anxiety had reached such a level that he was ready to throttle her. What in her right mind would make her come out here without a word to the police?

The fact that they hadn’t been particularly willing to listen to her regarding Jon Marcel?

He still didn’t know! Half truths, perhaps strange coincidences, were all that he had.

But she shouldn’t be out here. He had to find her. Bring her back. He wanted to throttle her...

Hold her again.

The shoreline was just ahead...

He should have cut the motor earlier; it was going to become entangled with the roots by the embankment. But he waited, and cut it with enough propulsion left to send his boat drifting the final distance to the shore. He hopped into the mud and pulled his boat up. Gregory should have known better than to bring her here.

Gregory would think that he could protect her. Gregory would probably think himself safe in the swamp, he knew it well enough.

It was going to be all right, Mark determined, leaving the boat to take his first quick strides through the muddy trail. The house was just ahead.

Gregory sat with Cindy by the water’s edge. The sun was beginning to fall low against the horizon. The rain clouds billowing atop it seemed to be pressing it down to the earth.

“Strange, isn’t it?” Cindy asked. “It seems like Mama Lili Mae wants to tell her something that she doesn’t want to tell us.”

“Maybe Mama Lili Mae works on a need-to-know basis,” Gregory said with a shrug. He set his arm around Cindy. “Don’t you worry. She’ll talk to you, too. And tell you what you need to know.”

“I guess,” Cindy murmured.

“You guess right,” Gregory said firmly. He watched as she stood, stretching, then gave his attention to the water once more, sending a rock skipping across it.

“I’m going bonkers here.”

He tossed another rock. “Cindy, you shouldn’t have come with me, then. I didn’t promise entertainment.”

“I know. I’m just so restless. You know me. I like action. I like to keep moving.”

“Pretend you’re dancing for a fish out there.”

“Gregory.”

“Cindy, she won’t be much longer.”

“I think I will just move a bit. Stretch my legs. I’m going to take a little walk.”

“No, Cindy, don’t. Stay right here.”

A few seconds later, he realized that she hadn’t answered him. And she hadn’t spoken again. He turned around. She was gone, as if she had disappeared cleanly into the brush.

And into the gray, billowing mist of the coming storm and darkness.

“Ah, damn it all!” Gregory swore, standing. “Cindy, damn it, come back here!”

But she didn’t reply.

“Cindy, you—brat!” he muttered. “Cindy!”

Again, no reply.

Swearing, he started off after her.

The man came into the lamplight. His features were caught by it. For a moment, in stark light and shadow, he seemed to be wearing a mask of pure malevolence.

And evil.

The shadows subsided.

He wore no mask. He was, actually, a strikingly handsome man.

Yet still...

Something malevolent seemed to hover about him, like a spiritualist’s aura. Ann chided herself for her foolishness.

Ann knew who he was.

She saw that it was the man who had been pointed out to her at Annabella’s as Jacques Moret. He had come through the screen door, and now stood in the house. Staring at her.

Even here, in the swamp, he was dressed in a fastidious manner, cool linen dust-colored suit, dark silk shirt. He stared at Mama Lili Mae; she stared back at him.

His eyes, like crystals in the muted lamplight, fell to focus on Ann.

“Mrs. Marcel, I am Jacques Moret,” he said smoothly. He approached her, offering his hand. She took it, and longed to wrench hers away instantly. He was too handsome, with a slick smile. Oily slick, Ann thought. His looks were as plastic as his smile, like off the cover of a magazine. His smile was too quick, the charm to it far too practiced.

“I’ve heard so much about you, from so many sources. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“And not a surprise, since Jacques knew you were coming,” Mama Lili Mae said.

“Mama Lili Mae is, remarkably enough, my great-great-great-aunt. As she was Gina’s.”

“Quite remarkable,” Ann agreed. Indeed. This was like an Arabian mare being the ancestress of a cobra.

“It’s been a rough day for Mama Lili Mae. A very long day. With the funeral. She will try to make you welcome, but you must realize it has been difficult...”

“Indeed,” Ann murmured.

“I’ve endured many a year, you know,” Mama Lili Mae said. Her tone was sharp. She still seemed to be as uneasy as Ann was with the man’s appearance.

“You need to leave, Mrs. Marcel,” Moret said bluntly.

“Jacques!” Mama Lili Mae said. “It is my home—”

Jacques Moret didn’t seem to hear her. “You are a lovely woman, Mrs. Marcel. Petite, delicate. With a lovely neck. These are dangerous times. You should not be here.”

“She’s my guest,” Mama Lili Mae said.

“You’re tired, worn!” Jacques told her.

“I’m well!”

Ann looked at her, trying to keep up a facade of courage. The old woman did look tired—and worn. Ann thought of her very great age.

Mama Lili Mae had told Ann what she could.

And Ann didn’t like Jacques Moret.

She wanted the safety of Cindy and Gregory being near her. In fact, she wanted to run past him.

And hope that he didn’t slither over to touch her. Stop her.

“Well,” she said with forced and stern courage and determination. “Mama Lili Mae, you’re wonderful, and I do look forward to painting you. It’s probably time for me to go,” Ann said, approaching Mama Lili Mae. “Even if I am actually
your
guest.” She embraced the woman in a warm hug—unhappy that the hug forced her to put her back to Jacques Moret once again.

Had he killed Gina? Had he been his distant cousin’s lover, a man who refused to accept that she would no longer see him because she had fallen in love with someone else?

The idea seemed entirely feasible. Ann could well imagine him rising to a murderous rage, attacking Gina. Right when she was to meet Jon. And Jon would have seen what was happening, and he would have tried to help her. And in turn, he would have been attacked...

And the murder weapon would have disappeared because the actual murderer would have disappeared as well.

Perhaps coming here had not been a good idea. Perhaps she should have told the police. Perhaps she could have said something to Mark, and he...

He would have yelled at her and told her to keep her nose out of police business.

And of course, he would have infuriated her. And things would have been worse.

Because she would have kept on wanting him, even if she had been angry. Even though he had dropped her like a leper, swearing at her, after he had suddenly kissed her.

Oh, God. It had all been a tremendous mistake. She needed him now. Wanted him now.

She was afraid. Damned afraid.

She wanted his strength. She wanted to cling to him. She wanted to feel the touch of his piercing gray eyes sliding over her, angry.

But protective.

Exit quickly...

Get the hell out of here...

Now!

“I know you’ve got to go now. You’ll be fine. Gregory and Cindy will be right outside. Don’t you worry none. And you come back,” Mama Lili Mae whispered.

Ann gave her another gentle squeeze. “I will. You know that I will.”

Mama Lili Mae squeezed her back. A strong squeeze. The woman wasn’t nearly as fragile as she appeared.