Red Beans And Vice Part 10

As he started to walk away, Heaven called out, "I'm sorry. I didn't ask you your name."

The big man kept on walking.

Heaven hung up the phone. She had just talked to Hank about her mishap coming home from his relatives. She'd spent ten minutes regaling him with how wonderful everyone was, except his aunt of course. Then she told him what had happened when she left and asked him if he thought she should warn the cousins. Hank was worried about her, but thought warning the cousins was unnecessary. "After all, I've been around for lots of your brushes with death. No one has ever bothered me," he said matter-of-factly.

Heaven wasn't sure Hank was right. It still creeped her out that whoever had run her off the road had been watching and waiting outside the cousins' offices. But what would the bad guys do, go in to a doctor's and ask what the redhead had been doing there? Search the place for something Heaven might have left there? As far as she knew, none of these threats were toward anything but her big mouth and her inquiring mind. No one thought she was holding the crown jewels. The problem started with her being in New Orleans. That was p.i.s.sing someone off.

Heaven went over and laid down on the bed, closing her eyes. The law firm would be here in a minute. She would go down and try to help Mary with her colleagues. Will had arrived twenty minutes ago and Heaven took that opportunity to go change her clothes and call Hank. She wasn't tired or even sleepy. Her mind was going a mile a minute. This Leon Davis must be a total idiot. He was looking so good for Truely's murder. Heaven's eyes closed.

She must have dozed off for a minute, despite her belief that she wasn't tired. She awoke with a start when voices from the first floor turned harsh. It was Mary and Will, not quite yelling but sharp, strident. Heaven quickly rolled off the bed and had every intention of sneaking down a floor and listening in the stairwell. But before she got to the second step, she heard a second man's voice, followed by a woman's. The lawyers had arrived. Will was greeting them, his voice warm again, full of compa.s.sion and southern hospitality. What a con he was, and how appealing it was. Heaven straightened her clothes, mussed her hair and went downstairs.

"That's the last of them," Heaven said as she walked back from the front hall. She had just seen the last three callers to the door.

It was a little past eleven. The house had been full. Not only did Mary's legal partners come, bringing dinner from Pascale Ma.n.a.le's, most of the staff of the law office came as well. Then many of the neighbors had seen all the cars and decided a full-blown home visitation was in progress and they dropped by. The house was full of cigar smoke and empty whiskey gla.s.ses. Bowls of shrimp peels from Ma.n.a.le's famous barbecued shrimp were everywhere. Heaven had tried to help the staff keep up for a while, fetching drinks and taking dirty plates to the kitchen. She'd given up about an hour before. Now she started arranging all the dirty gla.s.ses she could find on the wicker library table on the enclosed porch where Will and Mary were sitting, nursing a nightcap.

"Heaven, stop that. We have extra help coming tomorrow for the next few days. I should have realized this would be a strain on the staff," Mary said almost dreamily.

Mary readily confessed earlier that she had a prescription of something from the tranquilizer family that her doctor had given her to get her through the week. During the evening, as she watched Mary pound back gin and tonics, Heaven hadn't bothered to mention you usually shouldn't mix those kinds of pills with lots of alcohol. Mary was a big girl and the hospital wasn't that far away. Heaven herself enjoyed the feeling of a Valium and a bottle of wine served together on occasion. Grownups and heartache, that was the real lethal combination.

Heaven made a quick sweep of the dining room and brought in five more empty gla.s.ses to add to her collection. She put them with the rest and joined Will and Mary. "That was certainly an evening Truely would have loved. It had the flavor of an Irish wake mixed with French Catholic political intrigue."

"Don't forget the Germans. There's some of those first German settlers in the mix there," Will offered.

"Oh, they're no fun when it comes to a funeral. Let's forget them," Mary said with a little hiccup.

"Well, Heaven girl, if you think that was a good wake, wait till Sat.u.r.day. Boy, does Truely have something special planned for Sat.u.r.day."

Sat.u.r.day. Heaven planned to be in her restaurant in Kansas City plating homemade ravioli on Sat.u.r.day. She bit. "What are you referring to, Will dear?"

"That's right. It's in the will," Mary said.

"What's in the will?" Heaven asked, thinking this could easily turn into a Three Stooges routine.

Will explained. "Truely stipulates in his will how he wants his death to be celebrated. I prefer to think of it as a celebration of his life. He had a party out at the roasting facility once every few years. It was always a big blowout. Last time the theme was, 'Will Work for s.e.x.' You should have seen the costumes at that one."

Heaven was a bit surprised. Truely seemed a little too proper to have a party with everyone tricked out like hookers. She tried to picture what Mary had worn. Her corporate suits? By some standards they would be appropriate as a uniform of someone for sale. "What did you wear, Will?"

"1970s polyester pimp suit, powder blue, with platform shoes," Will said without hesitation.

"So Truely wants a party for his wake?" Heaven asked cautiously. She couldn't stay through Sat.u.r.day. No way.

Will went over to the library table and pulled out the drawer. He picked up a rolled-up scroll and tossed it on Heaven's lap. "Tomorrow a couple hundred of these go out all over New Orleans."

Heaven supposed the idea of the invitations' design was a scroll at the gate of paradise, where Truely hopefully was. The invitation said, "In honor of Truely Whit-ten, Red Beans and Rice, Dress as your favorite Vice. Sat.u.r.day, Eight o'clock at the roasting plant," in elaborate gold script. Down at the bottom of the invitation it mentioned: "The Iguanas, Kermit Ruffin, Charmaine Neville will perform." "Now don't tell me all these famous New Orleans musicians are dropping their Sat.u.r.day-night gigs to play at Truely's wake?" Heaven said skeptically.

Mary nodded. "Truely set aside enough money to take care of it. He'd already made arrangements with the musicians' managers and there was extra money to hire replacements for whatever gigs they were supposed to play."

Which led Heaven to her next question. "Did Truely have some premonition he was going to be murdered?"

Mary and Will both shook their heads. "Absolutely not," Mary said, stumbling over the word absolutely a little. "He just enjoyed organizing this part of his death. He thought it would happen when we were old. He got a kick out of the thought of a bunch of old coots dressing up like hookers and gamblers."

"Truely had a family plot. He knew that his funeral would be at the cathedral. There wasn't much to plan concerning his demise so he went for the party," Will said.

"Mary, I just don't think I can stay," Heaven said.

"No way," Will responded quickly.

"You have to," Mary said.

"I need to get back to the restaurant. I missed last weekend and I shouldn't miss next weekend."

Mary leaned forward and sloshed her drink slightly. The liquid spilled on her foot and she stared down at her one wet shoe, a demure low-heeled pump. "Oops." She tried to focus on Heaven. "I know this is a terrible imposition. But there's money to pay someone to replace you."

"That's not the point. I just-"

"The point is I need you here. I need you to find out who was messing with the nuns. If you can find out who it is, I know it will solve Truely's murder," Mary pleaded.

"The police-"

Now it was Will's turn to plead. "Heaven, honey. At least you're gonna stay for the funeral, right?"

"Of course."

"Then the soonest you could get home would be Thursday. I don't, and I'm sure Mary Beth doesn't, expect you to stay around forever until this thing is solved. But if you just stay until next Monday you could make Mary Beth feel better about the investigation. That's just three extra days, more or less. And it would make Truely happy if we threw lots of money at you, just to cover your expenses back in Kansas City. And then you'd be here for the party."

Heaven got up and poured herself a cognac out of a cut crystal decanter. She noticed the bottle was almost empty. Truely's friends weren't seeing him to the next life with punch and cookies. "I'll have to talk to Murray and see what he thinks. If the kitchen is holding up, I'll stay. But don't think for a minute I'm going to figure out all these crimes."

Will came over and gave Heaven a hug. "Just do your best, sugar. That's all we ask."

Mary Whitten was barely with them. She nodded at Heaven through eyes that were slits. "Thanks," she said, slurring.

Will went over to Mary and pulled her to her feet, removing the gla.s.s from her hands as she stood up. He placed it on the library table. "Now I'm gonna get Miss Mary Beth here upstairs. I think I'll spend the night in the guest room on the second floor. See you in the morning, Heaven."

As the two lurched around the corner, Will only slightly more sober than Mary, Heaven started turning out lights. She was thinking about Mary Beth. Heaven couldn't remember if Will had always called her Mary Beth, or if he was affecting Truely's name for his wife. It sounded so foreign to Heaven's ears, still.

The dark was comforting and, although she had intended to go right upstairs and go to bed, Heaven sat down on a big comfy wicker chaise lounge and sipped her drink. What a mess. She was homesick for Kansas City and the restaurant and the waiters and the cooks and Hank. She couldn't think of a thing to do that would shed light on any of this. The only thing she knew for sure was that someone badly wanted her to go home and Mary needed her to stay.

Heaven didn't know how long she'd been asleep, but all of a sudden she was wide awake, still sitting on the porch with her legs stretched out on the chaise lounge and the empty cognac snifter in her hands. She listened. Nothing. What had made her start like that? She continued to sit quietly, looking around at the windows that made up the gla.s.sed-in porch. She had to turn her head hard right to see, but she finally spotted him. The shadow of a large man was out on the gallery, right in front of the French doors. Heaven immediately knew it was the man she'd seen at the coffee warehouse. She felt it in her bones. He was jimmying the door, trying to break in. Was he Truely's murderer, now coming to kill Mary, too?

Heaven screamed as loud as she could. The silhouette outside the door straightened up and turned quickly. She heard the thud when the big man jumped off the gallery. Heaven screamed again and got up, figuring that the intruder couldn't possibly shoot at her as he high-tailed it down the sidewalk. She fumbled for the light on the porch, turned it on, and then went into the dining room and turned on the lights in there too. Will Tibbetts stumbled down the stairs in his boxer shorts. "Heaven, are you all right?" he called.

"Someone was trying to break in."

"Where?" Will asked.

"The French doors on the porch. I fell asleep out there. It was the man I saw at Truely's office last month."

"What man?"

"Don't you remember? Oh, never mind. I don't know if it was him. I just know a large man, tall and heavy and strong-looking, was outside the door, trying to get into the house," Heaven said.

Will went out on the porch and jiggled the French doors. They opened easily. He stepped out on the gallery and looked down at the door handles. "Yep. The wood's splintered. I guess your big man didn't have any lock picks. Some kinda amateur?"

Heaven was done. She was tired and scared and hurt by Will's skepticism about everything she said. "He's not my big man, you a.s.shole. You act like I just make this stuff up to amuse you. I'm sick of your smug att.i.tude. I want nothing more than to go home to Kansas City. Right now I care very little about who is messing with the Sisters of the Holy Trinity and only a tiny bit more about who killed Truely. I'm going up to bed and I don't care if someone breaks in and steals every item in this house, not that I think for a minute that it was a regular, run-of-the-mill burglar. Don't say another thing to me." With that Heaven swept up the stairs. Will knew not to make a peep.

"Heaven, I'm so sorry. Please tell me Will hasn't run you off," Mary said pleadingly.

This morning, the tranquilizers and booze from the night before had taken their toll on Mary. She looked puffy in the wrong places. She was standing in the doorway to Heaven's room. Heaven was still in bed. Now she pulled the sheet over her face, not ready for the day.

"I lost it last night but it won't happen again, I promise. I was so out of it on alcohol and pills, I didn't even hear you scream."

Heaven still didn't speak. She could act like she was really angry and pack and leave. It might mean the end of a friends.h.i.+p but she and Mary hadn't been that close since she moved to New Orleans. What the h.e.l.l.

"Mary, someone needs to take me seriously. A man that I think could be the same man I saw at Truely's office last month tried to break into your house last night." Heaven's voice was m.u.f.fled by the covers.

"I know. Will told me. He said you were furious with him."

"I'm just tired of all this c.r.a.p. Whatever or whoever killed Truely and stole the sisters' cross and vandalized the convent is not done yet. And I'm not admitting I think it's the same whatever or whoever that did all these things because I'm not sure it is. Mary, you could be in danger."

"Heaven, maybe it was you they were after. After all, you're the one that's been a.s.saulted twice in the last week," Mary pointed out.

Heaven pulled the sheet off her face and glared at her friend. "Don't remind me. And knowing that I've been a.s.saulted twice you're still asking me to stay here longer?"

Tears started sliding down Mary's cheeks. "Yes. I need a friend."

"You have Will," Heaven said crossly.

Mary wiped at her face with the sleeve of her pajamas. "I don't blame you, I really don't," she said as she walked out of the bedroom.

Heaven flopped from side to side in bed for a while, then grabbed the phone and dialed Murray. "Your voice sounds so good to me," she cooed when he answered.

"What is this, some s.e.x call?" Murray said a bit nervously. Murray wasn't much for s.e.x talk.

"I wish. Here's what's happening down here. The funeral won't be until tomorrow and I have a seat on the evening flight to Kansas City. You can't know how much I want to be on that airplane. But Mary has asked me to stay until Monday and try to sort out what is happening with Truely's murder and the problems at the convent."

"Well, do you want me to tell you that you have to come home? I will, you know, but it would be a lie," Murray said, catching on right away to Heaven's mood.

"Part of me wants to stay and poke around a little more. Part of me wants to get out of town while I'm still in one piece." Heaven gave Murray the short version of what had happened to her on Sunday.

"Hank already called and told me about it," Murray said with a touch of pride that he'd been Hank's confidant.

"And then last night I fell asleep on the porch. Someone tried to break in through some French doors right where I was snoozing. I realize thieves read the obits to get ideas but I don't think that's the kind of break-in this guy was planning. There had been a hundred people in and out of Mary's house that night. It didn't look like a deserted dead person's house at all."

"You think it had something to do with Truely's murder?" Murray was getting interested now.

"Yes. So what should I do? Stay down here until someone finally injures me, or come home while the gettin' is good?"

"The gettin' was good when you came home from New Orleans last month. It's all been downhill since then, babe. What if you do this-tell them you'll stay if I can find someone to replace you in the kitchen, which you know I can. But if it doesn't feel right, come home on Friday."

"Good plan, Murray. A bald-faced lie, but with a touch of truth. After all, anything can happen in the restaurant world. You really could need me by Friday."

"The thing to do is try and do some investigating that doesn't involve being alone in dark places, okay, babe?"

"Daytime work, eh?" Heaven was sitting up now. Talking to Murray had brought her back. How could she think of leaving when there was so much to do? He was right, she could leave any day, citing an emergency. She felt much better.

"Just do me a big favor and call in every so often. You know how Sal will worry." Murray could blame Sal for being the worrywart when they all knew Murray was much worse.

"It will be the highlight of the day. Hopefully tomorrow I'll have something to run by you. Something I discovered in the daylight in a crowded place."

"There you go," Murray said. "I'll hold down the fort. Don't worry about us. Oh, by the way, I told Jack."

"Told him what?"

"That you'd talk to him about working in the kitchen when you got home."

"Are you sure you didn't say it was a sure thing because I'm such a softy?"

"No, nothing like that," Murray said in a soothing voice.

"Until tomorrow then," Heaven said, hung up and bounded for the shower.

In twenty minutes flat she was dressed and downstairs pouring a cup of coffee. Mary and Will looked up from their ham and eggs expectantly.

"Want some breakfast?"

"I'd love some breakfast. I can't eat those messy shrimp with the skill that you New Orleanians do so I quit dinner early," Heaven said cheerily. She walked over to the business end of the kitchen and talked to the woman manning the stove, a new person Heaven figured for one of the temps Mary had hired.

"Heaven," Will began, "I'm sure sorry I didn't take the matter with the burglar seriously last night. I apologize." He sounded fairly sincere.

Heaven ignored him. "I talked to Murray, and he's going to work on covering me in the kitchen. I still may have to leave, but at least I'm not going home on Wednesday."

Mary held out her hand toward Heaven. "Thank you."

Will tried again. "Yes, Heaven, thank you. Does this cold shoulder mean the last words I'll ever hear you say to me is that good old-fas.h.i.+oned a.s.s-chewing you gave me last night?"

Heaven turned grandly toward Will and smiled. "Apology accepted, Mr. Tibbetts. Now jump back, you two. I'm going to go do some investigating. Can you draw me a map to the new convent of the Sisters of the Holy Trinity, the one they actually use?" A huge omelette appeared and she dug in.

Heaven didn't mess around. In just a few more minutes she was in the car with the map that Mary had drawn for her. After several wrong turns she located the neighborhood the convent was in. New Orleans was so d.a.m.ned hard to navigate because the city wound around right beside the river. There wasn't a grid anywhere except the French Quarter. All the rest of it turned back on itself. She drove slowly around the area where the convent was located, then parked her car on a side street and pulled out her cell phone and dialed. "Amelia?"

Heaven smiled at Amelia's h.e.l.lo. "Thanks for giving me your personal cell phone number. I guess since I'm always in the middle of trouble, it was a way for you to angle for an exclusive."

Amelia's response made Heaven get out of the car and start walking toward the corner. "I'll get to the point," Heaven said. "I'm sure you're ready to go on the air soon. Do you have a researcher that you could throw a job to?"

Heaven walked farther out in the road, scrinching her eyes to see down the street. "Will you have them find out who owns the condominiums named the Chalfant? And also a complex named Annunciation, and then Creole Cove. Can you meet me later for a drink? Napoleon House is fine. After the six o'clock news, about six thirty. Don't let me forget to tell you what happened to me Sunday," she said and clicked off the phone.

Heaven got back in the car and headed for the the other side of town. She needed to retrace her steps from Sunday night in the daylight. For one thing, it might help her find a reason for the truck hit-and-run. For another, she needed to see that she was on a perfectly normal stretch of highway, not the southern equivalent of Sleepy Hollow, where that headless horseman ran up and down the road. The images in her mind were less concrete than they would be after she saw the fis.h.i.+ng camps and lakes in the daylight. When she reached Versailles, the Vietnamese enclave, she considered stopping at the cousins' but decided against it. If she told them what had happened on Sunday they would feel responsible. If she didn't tell them, she would feel uncomfortable, lying by omission. Hank was right. It was better not to include them in her sordid affairs unless they had to know.

Heaven slowed down after she pa.s.sed the last Vietnamese shopping area. She was curious and detoured down a side road; seeing neat brick houses, a school, an old woman walking on the side of the road with the traditional peaked straw hat on her head. This must be the neighborhood where the cousins lived. She drove down to the end of the main road through the residential area and turned around, back to the highway continuing east.