Cypress Nights (20 page)

“Why?” Kate stared around. “Are you goin' to say somethin' that people who care about me can't hear?”

“Not a thing.” Cyrus smiled at her and his chest expanded with the big breath he took. “Are you okay for money? I mean do you have enough for your running expenses?”

Kate nodded. “Thank you for askin'. Some would shy away from a delicate subject like that. I know my late husband didn't provide for me, but other members of my family did and I'll manage. I didn't want Jim to leave me anythin', but he wouldn't hear of anythin' else. It'll be a while before things can be settled, but then—” she looked away “—then I'll be a rich woman. Rich with no one to share anythin' with. I'd give up everythin' I have if I could get Jim back.”

“I know you would,” Cyrus said.

Madge and Bleu looked at each other and quickly away again. Cyrus was serious. The woman was sucking him right in with the helpless-victim act. Why did men fall for that?

“Do you know if Jim has any other relatives?” Cyrus asked. He had told Madge and Bleu that Spike wanted him to ask these questions so Spike wouldn't have to.

“If he did have any, he never mentioned them,” Kate said.

“When the coroner is finished with his…work, Jim's funeral will have to be arranged. I know you aren't related to him, but since the two of you were close, if there aren't any relatives, you should be the one to decide how things are done. If you want to, of course.”

Kate put her feet on the chaise again. She folded her hands in her lap and looked far away.

“Kate?” Cyrus said.

“Don't press me,” she said. “I can't bear it. Madge, you arrange everything and let me know the details. You're used to these things. He liked a rose in his buttonhole. There's to be a fresh one for the viewin'. And plenty of food for after the service. Champagne so we can toast Jim.

“Make sure I'm in the front pew and I'll walk behind the casket. That's the least I can do for him.”

Bleu eyed the shoes one more time. Just because the prints Roche found might have been too big didn't mean a thing. With the mud being wet, a person's feet could have slipped and made the prints bigger.

“I'll talk to y'all another time,” Kate said.

Cyrus got up at once, and Bleu followed with Madge.

Unexpectedly, Kate turned sharp eyes on Bleu. “Enough damage has been done because of this silly scheme of yours.”

Bleu's skin prickled.

“A fancy school in a little place like this? Such airs. And who's going to afford to send their children there, I'd like to know?”

“Kate,” Cyrus put in quickly. “Bleu didn't decide we should have a school, the parishioners did—or many of them. Bleu's only here because we asked her to come and help us.”

“Give it up, before someone else dies,” Kate said, still focused on Bleu. “It's a cursed idea. You weren't here and I was just a child, but that old school went up in flames and a lot of children died. Burned to death. Trapped in that little hall in there. They were singin' in the mornin', their little faces turned up like flowers to the sun. And they all died.”

Madge made a strangled sound.

“Kate, Kate,” Cyrus said. “No one talks about it. I didn't even know there had been deaths. How terrible.”

Tears brimmed in her eyes. “Don't you go buildin' another school. Hear me, girl? Not again—or I know terrible things are goin' to happen. They already did, didn't they?” She leaned forward, as if begging for understanding.

“Hush,” Bleu said. Before she could stop herself, she put a hand on the woman's cheek.

Kate pressed her own fingers over Bleu's and kissed her palm.

Revulsion cramped Bleu's stomach but she didn't pull away.

“I'll tell you how I know,” Kate said, crying openly. “I was late for school that day. When I got there, the place was all smoke and flames and people tryin' to save the little children. The mothers and fathers cryin' and screamin'. But I was late, so I was fine. The whole area knew about it, but that generation's all but gone now. People came from all over to help. I can still see all the parents tryin' to rescue their babies.

“I walked home just sobbin' all the way. I walked home alone. Nobody came lookin' for me.”

R
oche leaned on the hood of his car with his ankles crossed.

He had better look more nonchalant than he felt. Sam Bush told him Bleu had gone with Cyrus and Madge to see Kate Harper and Roche decided he would come to Kate's and wait for Bleu.

Given the changes between them, the uncertain feeling he had didn't make a lot of sense, except that Bleu had stood him up before and he was afraid that, after the morning's drama, she might do it again.

He had to see her.

Another half hour passed before he saw Madge lead the way from the side of the house with Cyrus and Bleu behind her. All three looked at their feet, and their faces didn't give him confidence that he'd get a happy greeting.

But his excuse for showing up was in the can, and it was good.

Bleu saw him first but didn't wave. He did.

She must have said something, because the others looked in his direction and Cyrus did raise a hand.

“Hey,” he said when they got closer. “Sam told me Bleu was here. I figured since it was past time for her to go home, I'd stop by and take her.”

Cyrus said, “Good. She needs to get out of here.” He pulled his eyebrows down. “It's been difficult.”

“I should go back to the rectory and finish up some things,” Bleu said.

Roche kept the smile on his face, but his jaws locked.
Sure you should. And you intend to duck out on me again, don't you?

“Absolutely not,” Cyrus told her. “You've had a long, hard day, and I don't want you back at the rectory. Madge or I will come and get you after morning mass tomorrow.”

“No need,” Bleu said. “I'm getting a bicycle.”

“The hell you are.”
Damn it,
Roche thought. His unruly mouth got him every time. “I mean, I don't think that's a good idea.”

“Fortunately, it isn't a decision you have to make,” Bleu said. “I'll be fine. I'll get something from the insurance on my car. When I can, I'll get another one. Ozaire Dupre told me he can find good second-hand ones. He might already have found me a bike, and he knows about a dog he thinks I'd love, too. Only I can't get one yet.”

“Ozaire's a regular one-man procurement machine,” Roche said. “I hope you didn't pay him for a bike before seeing it. He probably pulled it out of the bayou.”

“What did he do to you?” Bleu said. “He's been nice to me.”

Roche looked at the toes of his shoes. “Ozaire's got a lot of good points.” He decided not to bring up the man's willingness to assassinate someone's character when he had no proof.

“Why don't you come back with us, Bleu?” Madge
asked. She put an arm around Bleu's shoulders. “I'll take you to Rosebank with me, and you can really rest. You'll need to air your place out before you sleep there.”

Roche crossed his arms and watched Madge. She wouldn't look at him. “That ozone stuff does great things,” he said. “The fire department sprayed it all over so there's no smell. And the door's been fixed.”

Bleu's eyes glittered as if she might cry. “Thank you,” she said.

He didn't want gratitude, but he did want to know why Madge was getting in the middle.

“I think Kate is deeply upset,” Cyrus said. “I'll counsel her if she'll let me, but perhaps she'll come and talk to you, Roche. We expect grief, but one moment she's in denial about Jim's death and the next she's angry and confrontational about it.”

“I'll see if I can make an excuse to talk to her,” Roche said. Bleu was staring at him. “I could get Dr. Reb to take me with her. She probably plans on coming over here anyway.”

“Good idea.” Cyrus slapped his shoulder. “See if you can get Bleu to eat something. I don't think I've seen her have a meal all day.”

“She's taking me out to dinner,” Roche said, smiling at each of them. “We're going for Chinese takeout.”

Cyrus laughed and glanced at Madge. “I might see if Madge will share a lonely priest's chicken pie,” he said. “Lil Dupre prides herself on the ones she makes for me.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Madge said, all smiles. She sobered at once. “There's plenty there for you, Bleu.”

A confused light entered Cyrus's eyes. “Bleu and Roche are eating together,” he said. “We'd best get back.”

All the way to Cyrus's car, Madge repeatedly craned to see Bleu and Roche.

“What's up with Madge?” Roche said. He settled a hand on Bleu's back but she hurried to his car, away from his touch.

When they were side by side in the front seat of the BMW, he said, “I've got the food in the trunk. I didn't think you'd feel like stopping.”

She turned her face from him and kept it averted, while he drove away negotiating the narrow, mostly unimproved roads in the area where Kate lived.

A pinkish-gray haze hung in the distance. Waiting for Bleu, he'd been aware of how heavy the air felt, but the moisture that formed on his back had little to do with that. “How was your day?” he asked.
Lame.

“Not so good. But there wasn't any reason it should be.” She face forward and lifted her chin. The humidity had curled her hair.

“I was serious about what I got for dinner,” he told her. “There's a new Chinese place on Main Street.”

She showed no interest.

“I meant what I said about the ozone spray, too. That stuff's a miracle. The fire didn't actually go through the wall of the house, but plenty of smoke got in.”

“Thank you for coming back for me this morning,” she said. “I'm sorry I did my panic thing. I never know when it'll happen. When it does, I can't seem to move. You ought to know about that.”

“No big deal.” He glanced sideways, and she was looking at him. Roche nodded and said, “I'm grateful I didn't leave your place any earlier this morning. I might have been too far away to know what had happened.”

She didn't say anything.

“Did I hear right, that you'll consider teaching at the new school?”

“If there ever is one,” Bleu said.

“There will be.”

“Not if Kate Harper has her way.”

“Meaning?” he said.

“Oh, nothing. She's understandably upset about Jim and thinks he was killed because he supported the school. She doesn't want it built at all.”

“She won't have any say in that,” Roche said. “Not that I blame her for her conclusions.”

“Her conclusions are right,” Bleu said. “It's obvious.”

“I can't argue with you,” he told her. “But Cyrus isn't going to roll over and play dead because someone's involved in a dangerous game.”

“That was an unfortunate choice of words,” she said.

“You're sniping.”

The words left his mouth without passing his brain.

Bleu clammed up.

“I shouldn't have said that,” he told her. “But you asked for it.”

“Now who's sniping?” Bleu said.

They drove in silence for the next fifteen minutes. Businesses had closed for the evening on Main Street, and the lowering sun threw long shadows from tree trunks.

At the end of Crawfish Alley, Dr. Reb Girard brought her Land Rover to a halt at a stop sight and she waved, her red hair glinting in the light. Reb practiced from the house on the alley where her father had practiced before her.

“She's something,” Roche said, feeling daring. “She loves medicine. If she didn't she could stay out at Cloud's End and host garden parties. Marc has plenty for both of
them.” Marc Girard, a successful architect, had inherited a good deal of the commercial real estate in the town. Cloud's End was the Girards' impressive home just outside Toussaint.

“You should understand how dedicated some people are to their professions,” Bleu said.

He just stopped himself from slamming on the brakes. This would be easier if he had not started needing to see Bleu these days, to be with her. Arguing wasn't something he did well, but he would find out what was going through her head.

In the townhouse driveway, he parked far enough down for her to see how untouched the place looked. The team from Green Veil had put in some productive hours.

Bleu cleared her throat. “Look at this,” she said. “I can't believe it.”

“The crew we use at Green Veil do good work. There's always plenty to be done out there.”

“The front door…It's new.”

“Thanks to me, the old one got pretty badly abused,” he said.

“They cleaned up the garage? And my car's been taken away?”

“It's totaled. The car went to the insurance adjuster. But you already know that. I don't think the cleanup took as much as you think it did. Smoke damage often looks worse than it is.”

If she let him know he wasn't welcome to come in, he would argue. Wouldn't he?

“Thank you, Roche.”

“You already did that bit,” he told her. “I'll get our dinner out of the trunk. I put it there so it wouldn't smell in the car.”

“Roche…”

He let her pause go on. This time he wouldn't fill any gaps for her.

She ran her fingers through her hair. The white blouse and tan pants she wore were simple. On her, they were classy and sexy.

“You did tell me we had a date tonight,” he said. So he'd given up and filled in some of the silence—he was human.

“I know.” She turned a little ring with a pearl in it around and around on her right hand.

“Let's go.” He sprang the trunk and got out of the car. Praying she would lighten up, and that they'd be able to relax together, he grabbed the bags and slammed the trunk.

She was out of the car, but at least she hadn't scurried up the steps to get away from him.

He smiled at her.

Bleu smiled back, quickly, and looked at the ground.

Was it guilt? Was that it? She felt guilty for sleeping with him, having sex with him—and enjoying it? He had no doubt Bleu had loved the sex. He had also clued in to the reticence she had worked through.

He caught up with her at the bottom of the steps to the front door. “Wait,” he said. “Look at me, Bleu.”

She didn't.

Roche shifted all the bags into one arm and held her elbow, pulled her to face him.

Her expression shook him. Tears shone along her eyelids and her mouth trembled. She stood very straight, very stiff.

“What's wrong with you?” he asked. “I thought—”

“You thought I'd never find out about you?” Bleu said. “Is that what you thought?”