The Cakes of Monte Cristo (26 page)

Yeah. Blame the victim. Good plan. “Well, to begin with,” I said, trying not to sound angry, “I didn't know it was you. I thought you and I were friends. For another, I don't have the necklace with me. And I never for one minute thought you were the one who broke into the Vintage Vault. How did you even know the necklace was there?”

He gave me a “Duh!” look. “You told me.”

Had I? I tried to remember our conversation the night we had dinner, but too much had happened in the meantime.

“I mean, you didn't tell me what store you'd been to,” he went on. “But it wasn't hard to figure out once I went back to look.”

“So you broke in and tried to steal it from Orra?”

“I didn't know she was there,” Calvin said. “She surprised me as much as I surprised her.”

“Except that she had a heart attack and died.”

“That's not my fault! She already looked sick when she came out of the back room.” Calvin took a couple of jerky steps away and then turned back toward me. “I never laid a hand on her. I even called for help. It's not like I just ran away and left her there.”

I wasn't sure Orra would have appreciated the gesture, but I didn't say so aloud. Talking about her seemed to be upsetting Calvin, and that wasn't the reaction I was going for. “Would you please tell me why the necklace is such a big deal to you?”

“Because it's . . .
evil.
” He dashed sweat from his forehead with his gun hand. “It's cursed. You know that. I have to get rid of it. I have to
stop
it.”

“Well, yeah, but I don't believe it. It's just metal and stone, Calvin. It doesn't possess any magical qualities.”

“I know you don't think so, but I
know
so. My grandma told me all about it. She told me how Delphine cursed it. She told me how Armand and Beatriz died and how Gustave's wife and daughter passed later. They weren't sick. They weren't hurt. They just
died
.”

I didn't argue with him, mostly because I didn't think he'd listen. Whatever had really happened, I didn't think anyone would ever be able to prove how they died. “And you think Delphine was responsible?”

“I know she was. Everybody in my family knows it. We've lived with that stupid curse and the bad things it did for over a hundred years. People died because of it, and in this town people don't forget things like that. All my life people watched us like there's something wrong with us. Like we'd do them in just for looking at us funny. You don't know how that feels.”

I'd been about to say something else, but his words hit me then and made me clamp my mouth shut in surprise.
“What do you mean you've lived with it? What does it have to do with you?”

Calvin barked a sharp laugh. “You don't know? Ox didn't tell you?”

Did he really need to ask? “Ox never tells me anything,” I snapped. “Why don't
you
tell me?”

Calvin darted a nervous glance over his shoulder. “That necklace belongs to us. It should have been ours all along.”

My own nerves were making it hard to think, but a light finally went on in my head. “You and Ox are Merciers?” Was he kidding me?

“My grandma was Delphine's youngest grandkid. She told me all about the stones. And then I found her papers at Mambo Odessa's and I found out the truth.”

“Delphine had papers? What papers?”

“Letters. A journal. Auntie Odessa got them from Grandma when she died.”

So Mambo Odessa had known about Delphine all along, and presumably so had Ox. I had a lot to sort through, but that could wait. I forced myself to stay in the moment with Calvin and his gun. “What truth did you learn?”

“The house. It was Delphine's.”

I blinked a couple of times, trying to follow what he was saying. “What house? Mambo Odessa's?”

“No! Yours. Zydeco.
That
house.”

“Miss Cassie's house?
My
house?” My heartbeat ramped up and my mouth grew dry. “But what—? How—?”

Calvin waved the gun in my face again, growing more agitated by the minute. “Yes, Miss Cassie's house. What the hell do you think I'm talking about? You're working every day in the house Armand Toussaint gave to Delphine when their first child was born.”

I stared at him in stunned disbelief. How did I not know that? My confused thoughts became white noise, making it
harder than ever to follow him. “But how did the necklace get in Delphine's house? I thought the Toussaints had it.”

“They did, until Gustave finally gave it to Delphine. It was all in her papers.”

Had I heard that right? “When did Gustave give the necklace to Delphine?
Why
did he give it to her? And why didn't she say something? I mean, he gave her what she wanted, didn't he?”

Calvin snorted a laugh. “He gave it to her because he thought he could end the curse that was killing off his family by giving up the necklace. But by that time she was so filled with hatred, she wasn't going to let it drop. She wanted the Toussaints to look bad.” Anger and bitterness twisted Calvin's expression. “She'd gone to him and asked for the necklace after Armand died and Gustave inherited the estate. Do you know what he did? He laughed at her and called her a liar. He said there was no way that his uncle, who'd adored his wife, would have given something that valuable to someone who was nothing more than a whore. Delphine told him the curse would kill them all, but he didn't believe her.”

No wonder she was hostile toward the Toussaints. “But you just said that he
did
give it to her,” I pointed out.

“Years later,” Calvin said. “After his daughter died, Gustave finally believed Delphine about the curse. He gave her the necklace to stop the curse and keep the rest of his family from being hurt by it. But it was too little, too late.”

“But why—?” I shook my head, still trying to make sense of what he was saying. “If Gustave gave it back to her, why didn't
he
tell people that he'd tried to make things right?”

“Because she didn't give him the chance. She killed him. Poisoned him the very day he brought the necklace to her. She thought he deserved it. And then she hid that damned necklace and never told a soul what she had done. But it's all there, all written down in her journals.”

I could tell that the story tormented Calvin, and with
good reason, but the gun in my face made it hard to feel all that sympathetic toward him.

“So why are you doing this? For Delphine, or for the Toussaints?” I said when I could speak again.

Calvin wagged the gun at me again. “I'm doing it to stop the curse. You don't understand.
Nobody
understands.”

“I'm trying to understand,” I assured him. “You're telling me that you don't approve of what Delphine did?”

“Would you? She put that curse on the necklace, killed people, and then—
then,
when Gustave gave it to her and asked her to lift the curse, she refused. How could she do that? Let her kids grow up thinking that they'd been wronged? Let her grandkids think the same thing? She told them the Toussaints stole their future, took what should have been theirs, and it was all a damned lie. It wasn't until Grandma read her letters that anybody knew what she'd done.”

“So Delphine was the one who hid the necklace in the house.” I'd felt sorry for her until now. Now I wondered if she'd always been crazy, or if her circumstances had pushed her over the edge.

“That's what she said in her journal. She hated Armand and his family so much by then, she wouldn't even admit that Gustave gave it to her. She wanted that damn thing so much she was willing to kill for it, but then when she got it, what did she do? She buried it and never looked at it again.” A trickle of sweat snaked down Calvin's cheek and seemed to remind him that he needed to hurry. “I just need the necklace, Rita. Give it to me and I promise I won't hurt you.”

I wondered if he would really just walk away. I couldn't wrap my mind around the idea of Calvin as a killer, but since I was staring down the barrel of a gun, it was pretty clear that I was a lousy judge of character. “I don't want to get hurt, and I don't want you hurt either, but I don't have it with me.”

“Don't lie to me,” he shouted. “Just hand it over.”

One part of my brain wanted to do what he said. The
necklace had been nothing but trouble since the moment Zoey and I found it. I should have been thrilled for the chance to get rid of it. But even if I could hand it over, I'd been through too much to just give it to Calvin now.

“What are you going to do with it?” I asked, hoping I could stretch the conversation long enough to come up with a brilliant plan for survival.

“Does it matter?”

“It does to me,” I said. “After everything you've put me through, I think I deserve to know.”

“I'm gonna put it in Delphine's vault. Let her spend eternity with it. And I hope it haunts her in the afterlife. I hope she gets what
she
deserves.”

Great idea—except for the part about breaking into a mausoleum at the cemetery. “You're not thinking clearly,” I said gently. “There's no way you'll get away with that. The police will catch you before you can even get the vault open.”

“No they won't. Especially if you don't tell them.” He put the gun to my temple and moved his finger onto the trigger. “I don't guess I can just walk away and leave you to call the police after all.”

Nervous sweat pooled under my arms and snaked down my stomach. Nobody knew that Calvin was here. Time was running out quickly.

“Killing me won't solve anything,” I said. “And burying the necklace with Delphine won't make anything different. What she did was horrible, but it doesn't reflect on you or anyone else in your family.”

As I finished what I was saying, I thought I heard a noise outside, a soft brush of something against the concrete that could have been a footstep. But it could also have been my imagination. I tried appealing to him. “Put the gun down, Calvin. You're not like this. You don't want to spend the rest of your life paying for this.”

The sound came again, and this time I knew I'd heard it. Hoping to distract him, I shot a glance at the door and whispered, “What was that?”

As I'd hoped, Calvin took his eyes off me long enough to follow my gaze. Saying a prayer for superhuman strength, I dropped and heaved all my weight against his knees. I might have managed to knock him down if I'd been behind him instead of in front, but at least I caught him off guard, and he staggered backward a step or two.

I threw myself against him again. I heard a bang, but my heartbeat was pounding so loudly in my ears, I couldn't tell if it was a gunshot or something else. I heard a roar of pain and felt Calvin land heavily on the floor beside me.

Fear made it hard for me to see, but I scrambled toward his hand, hoping to get the gun away from him before he shot me. I groped blindly for the gun, wedging my knee into Calvin's armpit as hard as I could to keep him from moving his arm.

Calvin bucked like a wild man, heaving his body from side to side. I heard another roar of pain or anger and tried even harder to find the gun. I could hear voices, but I couldn't make out what they were saying until a firm hand gripped my arm and gave me a gentle shake.

“I've got it, Rita. Just call the police.”

I blinked in surprise, trying to clear the fog from my brain and my eyes. A strange man stood over Calvin holding the gun. Behind him, wild-eyed and holding a heavy skillet, stood the woman from the Thai restaurant next door.

“Somebody break in,” she said. “This time I saw.”

I almost laughed aloud. The man with the gun cleared his throat. He wasn't a stranger, I realized. I knew him. He'd come to my rescue once before, too.

“What in the hell are you doing here?” I snapped.

Carlo Mancini shot me a cocky TV news grin. “You're welcome. Now are you going to call the police or what?”

Three weeks later, I stood at the podium in front of a moderate-sized crowd and officially presented the Toussaint necklace to the New Orleans Historic Voodoo Museum in the French Quarter. It seemed only right to let the necklace live out its life next to the portrait of Beatriz. And to share the history of both branches of the family.

The museum's curator accepted the gift and gave a short speech about the necklace and its colorful history. A history that everyone on both sides of the Toussaint-Mercier family—with the exception of Calvin—seemed determined to preserve. I didn't get it, but as long as it didn't affect me, they could hold on to the curse forever if they wanted to.

I was ready to get the necklace out of my hands. I'd had enough of it and the people who wanted it. Giving it to the museum where everyone could see it and hear its gruesome tale seemed like the right thing to do. I just hoped that my
decision would appease Mambo Odessa's ancestors, none of whom had whispered anything to me, by the way.

Ox and Mambo Odessa stood on the other side of the podium as official representatives of the Mercier branch of the family. Despite her claims to the necklace—or maybe because of them—Natalie Archer stood just off to the right of the podium, beaming as if the whole thing had been her idea. I had my suspicions about that. I thought her newfound generosity had a lot to do with Miss Frankie, who stood beside her to offer moral support.

Bernice was there, too, standing in the crowd near Sol and Miriam Lehmann. Nobody could have said that the Lehmanns looked happy about the presentation, but they did appear resigned.

The rest of the Zydeco crew, all spiffed up and enjoying the mimosas being passed around by a small staff of waiters, were sprinkled throughout the crowd that had gathered to witness the event that some were calling an epic moment in history. And by “some,” I mean Carlo Mancini, who was waiting for an exclusive interview with Zoey and me after the presentation. I figured I owed him something. If he hadn't been so determined to get his story that he'd followed me home, I might not have been here at all.

Even the woman from the Thai restaurant, whose name I'd since learned was Fon, had accepted my invitation. I'd sent flowers to thank her for her part in my rescue and I was taking the Zydeco gang, plus Gabriel and Sullivan (if he could make it), to lunch at her restaurant after we were through here. It might be a bit awkward having both of them together in one room, but I couldn't pick one over the other.

The curator's speech received a smattering of applause, after which Zoey and I posed for a couple of pictures with the curator that would, I was told, be prominently displayed beside
the necklace. When the photographer had finished snapping pictures, Mancini stepped up and shoved a microphone in my face, rattling on in front of the camera and asking me an occasional frivolous question—“How do you feel now that you're free of the necklace, Ms. Lucero?” and “Do any of your recent experiences lead you to believe in the curse after all?”—to which I offered equally inane answers—“I'm happy to see the necklace preserved for history, Carlo,” and “No, they do not.” Zoey, all dolled up in a pair of black slacks a size too small and a flowy shirt that looked brand new, shared her version of the great find and played up her part in spreading the word via social media while Estelle looked on and nodded her approval from time to time.

Once he'd finished with me, I moved to the edge of the crowd, where the crew from Zydeco stood nursing their drinks. Ox looked really good in the suit and tie Isabeau had insisted he wear, while she herself looked stunning in a flowered sundress and a pair of four-inch heels that made my calves ache just looking at them.

I knew he'd been to the jail earlier to visit Calvin, but I didn't let myself ask how their conversation had gone. I'd hated pressing charges against Ox's cousin, and I might not have if Carlo and Fon hadn't witnessed Calvin holding a gun on me. He was awaiting trial at which I'd have to testify and I wasn't looking forward to that
at all
. Whatever happened, I just hoped Ox wouldn't hold it against me.

Edie and River were there, too, as part of the Zydeco crew. Once all the excitement over the necklace and the Belle Lune Ball had died down, Edie and I had finally had a chance to talk about her coming back to work. Judging by the way Dwight was playing with JD, dangling a set of keys over the baby's head and making all kinds of weird goo-goo noises, nobody would mind if Edie occasionally had to bring JD to work with her.

“I think it was a beautiful ceremony,” Estelle gushed as
Sparkle handed me a cup of my own. “Although I do think you could have let Zoey be part of the actual presentation.”

Zoey rolled her eyes at her aunt. “It's okay. I didn't mind. Really.”

Estelle was right, though: Zoey deserved the recognition, not just for her part in finding the necklace, but for her willingness to remain quiet even when she didn't want to. I was growing fond of her and I wasn't ready to send her packing yet.

“Edie's coming back to work in a couple of weeks,” I said. “But that doesn't mean I want you to leave. You've done a great job. How would you feel about staying on, at least until Mardi Gras is over?”

Zoey's face lit up and for a moment her insecurities vanished. “You mean it?”

“Of course.”

Estelle nudged her with an elbow. “You want to stay, don't you?” Without waiting for an answer, she turned to me. “She wants to stay. It would mean the world to her.”

I smiled at Estelle and took Zoey's arm, leading her away from the others so she could make up her own mind. “You don't have to decide now,” I told her. “And don't say yes just because Estelle wants you to. She means well, but I want you to decide for yourself.”

I wasn't sure, but I thought I detected tears in Zoey's big, dark eyes. “Yeah. I mean,
yeah
I want to. I like it there. At Zydeco. And maybe if I do good enough, you could teach me about cakes? I'd love to make something as beautiful as the dress form cakes were. Pictures of them are still showing up in my news feed.”

That surprised me on two levels. The Belle Lune Ball had been an even bigger success than I'd thought at the time. The ongoing popularity of the photos people had uploaded had my head spinning. But the biggest revelation was the one about Zoey herself. “You're interested in baking?”

“Baking. Decorating. Making cakes that look like something. I want to learn how to do all of it. Next time something we make goes viral, I want to be part of it.”

Who would have thought? I grinned, remembering when I'd first discovered the world of cake decorating and asked Uncle Nestor if I could attend a culinary school. “I'll tell you what,” I said, making the same offer my uncle had once made to me. “You work hard and learn everything you can at Zydeco for two years. Then, if you still want to learn more, we'll talk about getting you into culinary school. How does that sound?”

Zoey lunged at me and wrapped me in a hug so tight I had trouble catching my breath. “You mean it?”

“It's not going to be easy,” I warned her when she finally let me go. “It's a lot of hard work and there's a lot to learn. And you're not going to start out at the top, so don't expect that.”

“I don't. I won't.” She bounced up on her toes, looking younger and happier than I'd ever seen her. “You won't be sorry, I promise.”

A big warm glob of fuzzy feel good welled up inside me. I suspected that our real issue would be getting Estelle to back off and let Zoey fight her own battles, but we had plenty of time to work all that out.

It felt good knowing that. Zydeco had gone through a rough patch after Philippe died and I took over, but we'd weathered the storm and things were looking up. Business was better than ever. Our client base had grown just since the Belle Lune Ball, and we'd been asked to do the job again the following year, which was a major coup. Pleasing Evangeline Delahunt wasn't easy, but we'd done it. Of course, I'd accepted the offer eagerly, in spite of Ox's dour predictions that I was diversifying too far by adding these occasional catering gigs to our schedule. He'd come around eventually.

I had no intention of spreading ourselves too thin or taking on too much, but catering the Belle Lune Ball had given
me greater confidence in my skills both as a chef and a manager than I'd ever had before. For the first time since I'd accepted the partnership with Miss Frankie, Zydeco felt as if it was really and truly mine and I wasn't interested in taking a step backward either.

I left Zoey talking to Sparkle about her job offer and crossed the narrow courtyard toward Edie and River. Dwight had moved away to talk to someone else and JD was growing restless without his playmate. Edie handed JD to me and I kissed his soft little cheek. “I just offered Zoey a job,” I told Edie. “But not yours, so don't worry about that.”

Edie laughed softly. “Good. I can't wait to get back to work, but I'm going to hate leaving JD with a sitter. I wish I could do both.”

“You don't need a sitter,” River told her. “My work is flexible. I can watch him while you're at work. I've told you that before.”

She gave him a look from the corner of her eye, but it wasn't full of her usual irritation. “And I told you, I don't want to be a burden.”

“What burden?” River asked. “JD is my son.” Also said without the usual heat.

There was something different about them. Something softer. More pliable. I didn't want Edie to freak out or anything, so I pretended not to notice. “I'm sure the two of you can figure it out. It's not as if we're completely inflexible at Zydeco either. If you need to bring him with you to work on occasion, I'm sure we can work something out.”

Edie grinned at me and for the second time that day I found myself wrapped in a breath-stealing hug. “You're the best, Rita. I mean seriously.”

Yeah. That gave me the warm fuzzies, too.

I snuggled JD closely and wondered what life would have been like if Philippe and I had ever decided to start a family.
Almost as if she read my mind, Miss Frankie materialized beside me and sent JD a grandmotherly smile. “He's a sweet little thing, isn't he?”

I nodded. “So precious.”

She leaned against me and sighed wistfully. “Maybe someday you'll make me a grandmother.”

I laughed aloud. “I wouldn't hold my breath,” I said. “I'm not sure that's a road I'll ever take.”

“Never say never,” she said with a meaningful glance at Gabriel, who was standing on the other side of the courtyard. “Where is your nice policeman today? Couldn't he make it?”

I squirmed uncomfortably at her unspoken suggestion(s). “He's working, but he'll try to make it for lunch. As for the rest, we'll see.”

“You can't blame a woman for trying, sugar. Just know that I'd be thrilled if you ever decided to expand the family.”

Yeah. Maybe. Maybe not. I guess time would tell. I leaned my head on Miss Frankie's shoulder, relieved that she'd shown no more signs of hysterics and touched by her generosity. I was a lucky woman, blessed with a great family and wonderful friends.

A little seed of excitement landed in my heart. It stirred and grew as I looked at the people around me. I couldn't wait to see what would happen next.