French Quarter Fatale, page 13
By the time they were drying their fingernails under the heat lamp, Josette was feeling more relaxed than she had since arriving in New Orleans. This was what she’d come for, the uplift she always got when she was with this group.
She debated going back to her room and calling her dad but decided against it. It would only upset her and irritate him. Tomorrow would be soon enough for that.
The hotel staff served them a light lunch by the outdoor pool. The weather had held out. High temperature in the midseventies. Not even a chance of rain in the forecast.
A perfect day for a wedding.
* * *
“ARE YOU NERVOUS?” Keenan asked, trying to fulfill his best-man duties before they took their places for the wedding procession to begin.
“I haven’t had time. I think one of the wedding planner’s main duties is to keep us too occupied to panic.”
“More likely it’s because you’re marrying your best friend,” Moose said.
“She is, you know,” Bart said. “Any day that doesn’t start and end with Addison in my arms isn’t complete.”
“If that’s not the real thing, I don’t know what is,” Kennan said.
Until the last few days, he wouldn’t have believed those words could have possibly come from his mouth. Josette had literally turned his world upside down in the most exciting way.
The first strains of the organ filled the awe-inspiring cathedral. The men took their places as the grandparents and parents of the bride and groom were led to their places on the second row of the nave. The first row remained empty.
The priest took his place as did Bart.
An adorable flower girl half skipped, half danced her way down the aisle dropping snowy white petals and tugging on the ring bearer’s arm when he failed to keep up with her.
The two bridesmaids came next, followed by the maid of honor. Keenan’s pulse began to race as he waited for his first glimpse of Josette. When she stepped onto the aisle, a million sensations hit at once, so strong he struggled for a reviving breath. It wasn’t the awesome gown that had his heart racing. It was Josette.
He’d been intrigued with her the minute he saw her on the flight from Nashville. Before that night was over, he’d been enchanted with her. But it was her kisses and even her touch that had totally cratered him. Seeing her now, stunning, smiling despite all she was dealing with, only further crystalized his feelings for her.
The wedding was the most inspiring ceremony Keenan had ever witnessed, yet still his mind kept wandering back to the mystery surrounding Isadora’s disappearance.
There were dozens of reasons to believe she had pulled off another successful disappearing act. Dozens more to suspect she was planning her surprise return.
But there were far too many suspects with a motive to kill Isadora for Keenan not to at least suspect that she could have been the victim of foul play.
Greed: Anyone who knew how much cash she was carrying on her the night before the disappearance.
Envy: Grant Gaines, a costar with a grudge against her.
Jealousy: Lorraine Cormier, eager to clear the way for her to marry Antoine.
Keenan mentally checked back into the ceremony as Addison and Bart were pronounced man and wife.
He and Josette marched out of the cathedral behind the newlyweds. The remainder of the wedding party, friends, family and guests joined the procession through the massive doors and then passing by Jackson Square on the way to the reception at the Jaxson Riverview Room.
Keenan’s phone began to vibrate as they crossed Decatur Street toward the old Jax Brewery. He left it in his pocket, hoping the call was not more bad news for Josette. There was no reason why it should be, but his instincts were sending him bad vibes.
He excused himself when they reached the venue, walked out onto the river-view terrace and checked his messages.
The most recent one was from Detective Max Hyde. This couldn’t be good.
He returned the detective’s call.
He was right. It wasn’t good. It might just be the worst possible development for Josette. There was nothing they could do about it for a few more hours, so there was no use in ruining the remainder of the beautiful, moonlit evening.
The frightening news could wait until the reception was done and the bride and groom had left on their honeymoon.
* * *
THE WEDDING CEREMONY had been magnificent, holy, beautiful and poetic. Josette had fought back tears more than once, especially when she’d looked at Addison’s mother, who’d occasionally broken into sobs. There was so much love in the Landry family.
That was when reality had punched Josette in the gut. She might not have her mother or her father at her wedding—if there ever was a wedding.
The determined photographer had become a dictator ever since they’d entered the reception venue. He’d called for one grouping after another. Josette had stayed out of the way as much as she could.
“Let’s have the bride and her attendants only now,” the eager, young photographer announced.
“Okay but I think we have enough posed shots of the guys,” Addison said. “If we don’t release them soon to join the feast, we may have a rebellion on our hands.”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Moose chimed in. “If I don’t jump in quick, they’re liable to run out of those fresh-shucked oysters.”
“And the line at the bar is getting longer instead of shorter,” Lance added.
The men happily joined the partying wedding guests after their one last posed group shot. After that, Addison insisted it was time for the bride to join the fun. There would be plenty more candid photo ops over the next few hours.
Josette went off to find Keenan. She hadn’t had a chance to be alone with him since the mind-boggling kiss they’d shared last night. She couldn’t help but wonder if he was experiencing the same tumultuous thrill that she was.
Was he eager to start where they’d left off or was he regretting that they were moving so quickly?
She took a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and then found Keenan walking away from the bar with a glass in hand.
“I thought I might find you near the bar,” she said as she approached him.
“Yeah. I handled the wedding fine, but I thought the photographer was never going to finish.”
“I’m sure he’s nowhere close to finished, but the worst of it is over. What are you drinking?”
“Scotch on the rocks.”
“I thought you were a beer man,” Josette said.
“I usually am but this is a special occasion, and they have premium double malt Scotch. Besides, I need fortification to get through my required tasks. I’ve been known to flub a toast or two.”
“I have a feeling few would notice at a party this loud and lavish.”
“You could be right. Would you like a cocktail?”
“Not yet. I’ll stick with champagne for now.”
They took their drinks and made their way to the head table, squeezing into the seats with their names on the printed place cards until they’d finished the required events and were free to party. Several others joined them including Moose, Lance, Sara and Beth.
Everyone except Keenan was in a festive mood. He was quiet, more distracted than she’d ever seen him. Maybe he was nervous about the toast, though it was hard to believe considering his level of self-confidence.
A few minutes later, the band started playing and the bandleader called for Mr. and Mrs. Bart Gordon to take the dance floor. Thinking of Addison as Mrs. Gordon would take a while.
Appetizers continued to be served by traveling waiters.
Keenan excused himself to make a phone call.
It was a good half hour before he rejoined her. He was distracted and withdrawn from the conversation as if he’d left the wedding reception behind and moved into a private world.
She was determined not to ask about the call. If he wanted her to know, he’d tell her. He’d said there was no one waiting for him back home, but a man like him must have a lot of women after him.
Keenan remained that way the rest of the evening—not exactly ignoring her, physically close but emotionally distant. Josette decided it was likely the kiss that had put him on edge.
Hours later as the guests began to trickle away, Josette stepped out on the now-empty fourth-floor terrace. Leaning against the metal railing, she watched the silver reflections of the moon on the Mississippi River.
Josette heard footsteps behind her. Without turning, she knew it was Keenan who had joined her. He put his arms around her and spooned her body against his.
“At the risk of being redundant, did I tell you that you are breathtakingly gorgeous tonight?” he whispered.
“No, I don’t believe you mentioned that.”
“The second I saw you take one step down the aisle, you literally took my breath away.”
She turned in his arms. “Really? Because I’m getting the distinct impression that you’re growing bored with me and my multitude of life complications. Not that I blame you.”
“Where did you get an idea like that?”
“You’ve been preoccupied much of the evening. I assumed you were regretting last night’s kiss.”
“Regret? Hardly. I dreamed about that kiss half the night.”
“Then what’s wrong? And don’t tell me nothing, because I won’t believe you.”
He ducked his head, then met her eyes. “I was trying not to ruin your entire evening, but I can see I may as well be straight with you.”
“Please do.”
“Detective Hyde called me tonight. There’s a new development in his investigation. He thought it best you hear about it from me before you heard it anywhere else.”
“Just say it, Keenan. I’m not a child who needs protecting. I can handle the truth.”
From the way he looked at her, she was suddenly not so sure.
Chapter Fourteen
Keenan knew of no easy way to sugarcoat this. He’d never been good at that anyway and there was no point in lying to Josette. She’d see through it in a second.
“A few hours ago a female body was pulled out of Bayou Lafourche about ten miles south of your dad’s house.”
Josette wrapped her arms tight around her chest and stared out at the Mississippi River for what seemed like an eternity before turning back to face Keenan. “What does this have to do with me?”
Her voice was so soft he could barely hear her, strain affecting her every syllable.
“Detective Hyde believes there’s a chance the body could be your mother.”
He felt her tremble, though she kept up a brave front. “Why would he think that? He wouldn’t just call me to come look at a body if he had no solid clue to lead him to Isadora. He must have told you something more.”
“He claims he only wants to rule out that possibility quickly before the media run with it.”
“How long has the body been in the water?”
“They can’t say until they get a more accurate forensics report, but one of the cops on the scene thinks no more than a week.”
Josette took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Then it can’t be Mother. She hasn’t been in this area for over a year. If she were, she would have let me know.”
Keenan wished he was as sure of that as Josette was. From the little he’d learned about Isadora, he didn’t put anything past her. And no one seemed to understand her weird bond with Antoine, who was behaving strangely himself.
“What else?” Josette asked. “I want to hear it all now, not have it measured out like foul-tasting medicine.”
“Detective Hyde said he got a tip by phone yesterday that danger was coming to Alligator Cove and that only Antoine Guillory could stop it.”
Keenan had been dreading having to tell Josette that ever since he’d heard the words from the detective. He was amazed that Josette stayed as calm as she did, though it was killing him knowing how much this was hurting her and how much more it would hurt if the body turned out to be Isadora.
“Exactly when did you and Detective Hyde have this lengthy conversation?” she asked him.
“He left me a message when we were walking from the cathedral to the reception. I called him back during the reception.”
“Why didn’t you tell me then?”
“You were here to celebrate the wedding of your best friend. I thought you deserved at least a few hours without being hit by another bombshell. Besides, they don’t know how long it will be before they move the body from the crime scene to the morgue. You could have ended up waiting hours at either location.”
“Call Detective Hyde and tell him I want to see the body as soon as possible, wherever it is.” She stiffened and stepped away. “Never mind. I’ll call him myself.”
A few minutes ago, she’d been trembling. Now she was taking charge and giving orders. She wasn’t only smart, beautiful and talented, she had spunk. The bad thing about spunk was that in the wrong situation, it could be dangerous.
Isadora Guillory tended to keep life interesting and mysterious. She might have become involved in almost anything, could have easily shown up back in Alligator Cove or anywhere else in the world.
All Keenan was certain of was that he planned to make damn sure Josette’s body didn’t get pulled from an alligator-infested bayou. He was here to keep her safe, whether she wanted his help or not.
* * *
IT WAS THREE in the morning when two detectives Josette hadn’t met before led her and Keenan down a long, institutional gray hallway to a room at the far end of the morgue. Other investigators were still in the spot where the body had been found.
A continuing chant echoed in her mind. Not my mother. Not my mother. Not my mother.
Detective Hyde wasn’t with them at the morgue. That had to be a good sign. If the detective had even the slightest belief the body could be Isadora Guillory, surely he’d be here to find out in person.
The deputy in charge stopped at a gray metal door and put his hand on the knob. “Are you ready, Ms. Guillory?”
She swallowed hard as Keenan put a hand to the small of her back and they stepped inside.
The body was laid out on a long, rectangular table. Josette pulled the bulky sweater she was wearing tight around her and shoved her hands into the front pockets of her favorite ripped jeans that she would never wear again.
She was immediately thankful for the menthol salve a deputy had given her to put under her nose in order to cut the sickening smell of human decay.
“This isn’t going to be easy for you to look at,” the deputy warned. “The body is exactly as it was when it was pulled from the bayou this afternoon, including bits of algae and other vegetation clinging to her skin. Forensics never wants to lose a scrap of evidence.”
“I understand, but can we just get this over with for now?” Her heart felt as if it would pound out of her chest and she wanted only to flee from this room as fast as possible.
A crime scene expert stepped to the end of the table, took the corners of the pale gray sheet that had loosely covered the body and pulled it down until the body was on full display.
Josette went limp. She struggled to breathe. The bones encased in the translucent, damaged skin that lay in front of her weren’t a person at all. They were an empty vessel.
She’d never imagined that death was this potent. Fighting the urge to retch, she put a hand over her mouth and ran from the examination room to the ladies’ bathroom they’d passed on the way down the hall.
Keenan followed her and held her head while she threw up in the toilet.
When she had nothing left in her stomach, he dampened a paper towel from the dispenser and handed it to her.
She pressed it against her forehead until her insides calmed a bit.
“It’s not my mother,” she said.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. Did you see a heart tattooed on the victim’s forearm? No. My mother had one right here.” She touched the underside of her wrist. “I remember because tattoos are not allowed for the character she plays on The Winds of Scandal. She always complained that the makeup artist had to cover it up.”
There was another reason as well, one Josette would keep to herself for now. Even dead, her heart would have recognized her mother.
Yet, staring at the cold void of what had once been a living, breathing human being was a harsh new reality for Josette. She’d convinced herself for a year that her mother could not be dead.
Isadora was simply off on a search for herself as she had done before. Perhaps she’d been successful this time and she wasn’t ready to come back to her old lifestyle.
At worst, she might be hurt, or sick, but not dead. A woman as vibrantly alive as Isadora had always been couldn’t possibly be dead.
Death was real. Death was final. Death was invincible. But not Isadora.
* * *
DAWN WAS ALREADY flirting with the horizon when the keys to Brad’s BMW were apparently handed to the one person on duty to handle early morning valet service at the hotel.
Keenan realized more than ever what a good friend Bart was even though they seldom saw each other.
Addison’s family had been just as accommodating, insisting the Princess Suite be extended for two more days, on their tab.
The newlyweds hadn’t returned last night. Instead, they’d checked into a hotel near the airport for an early morning flight to Venice. That left Keenan with a room of his own and Josette with a luxurious two-bedroom suite.
Deciding on who slept where would have been a far more interesting dilemma if both he and Josette weren’t both too drained of energy to finish what they’d started the night before.
