Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

Jesse

G ood thing I had a cup of tea after I caught Tallula dancing yesterday because the night shift turned into an ordeal. We got a call to the Swan residence out on Marais Way where all the mansion properties spread luxuriously toward the waterfront with docks and boat lifts.

Orville and Sandrine Swan are out of town. Mara must be driving all over the parish bringing her kids to their various activities. That leaves Tallula and I really don't want to burden her with this, but duty calls.

You'd think since she and I both live at Pigs in a Blanket and I visit her place of employment on the daily, it would be easy to track her down, but no such luck.

Later that morning, I ask myself, if I were a princess, where would I be? Then I recall her mentioning she had to look after her sister's kids. In the afternoon, I spot her car parked outside the salon. It wasn't there an hour ago.

Inside the Hogwash Hairwash, a few seasonal scented candles burn, intermingling with the odor of hair products. Since I was last in here, Betsy's autumn decorations have multiplied like Gremlins—I know she's behind it because Thelma would be hard-pressed to hang a fall wreath on the door at Pigs in a Blanket.

As we roll into October, for once, Hogwash has had a pleasantly cool climate, compared to some years when summer temperatures overstay their welcome. I've had the perfect weather for my early morning runs.

Moink rushes out from under a chair and greets me. Her little piggy tail goes wild and she tries to climb up my leg but hardly makes it past the lower half of my boot. I give her a belly rub, wondering how much she likes the doggy outfits. Today, she wears a knit sweater in alternating hues of orange, brown, and yellow with golden threads woven through.

Tallula's voice carries from somewhere beyond a bank of mirrors. "It looks like spindly spiders took up residence on my eyelids."

"It is getting close to Halloween." That's Thelma's rasp.

"I offered to try to apply a new set." Molly's high-pitched child-like tone fills with excitement.

"If I've told you once, I've told you a million times, you're not licensed," Betsy speaks with surprising authority.

"At least I still have my tooth-whitening device," Tallula mutters.

Being back in Hogwash, it's been interesting getting to know people and seeing their character from this side of the law—as in me not being a troublemaker with people crossing to the other side of the street when they see me coming. I think I can trust Betsy to be a rule-abiding citizen and asset if need be. I happen to know Thelma doesn't always wear her seatbelt. As for Tallula, her blaze of glory upon leaving Los Angeles recently came to my attention.

"Darlin,' you're not going to find a spa around here—" Betsy starts.

Thelma cuts her off. "The closest thing is the community pool."

"It's a swamp," Tallula counters, appalled.

It's unverified, but I've heard a company is looking to rehabilitate it.

"Though I have done a seaweed wrap before," Tallula says brightly.

"You'd catch a skin condition," Thelma mutters.

Making my presence known, I break into the amusing conversation, saying, "That area is condemned for the time being, so I don't recommend anyone go fishing around for seaweed or anything else."

Betsy jumps with surprise. Thelma's lips remain flat as if not enthusiastic to see more of me than she already does day and night at the B&B. Tallula casts her gaze down, not meeting my eyes.

"You look tired, darlin'," Betsy says.

Thelma arches an eyebrow as if she wasn't sleeping all that soundly the night Tallula and I made the first batch of beignet buns and knows I occasionally keep late hours.

"I had a busy shift last night. But I have good news," I say, hoping to break what happened last night to Tallula as gently as possible.

The three women lean in.

"I found the license plate cover." I leave out the part about how it was on my property.

"That's great. Thank you." Tallula lightly steeples her hands under her chin with gratitude.

"We're holding it in this ongoing investigation, but we will return it to you as soon as possible."

Tallula shrugs. "I don't need it."

The door jingles and Molly appears, nearly breathless. "I heard there's a dragon in Hogwash."

Moink hurries back to her hideaway under the chair. Betsy, Thelma, and Tallula stare, wide-eyed. The two stylists talk at once.

"Dragons are mythological creatures. Do you mean someone is already wearing their Halloween costume?" Betsy asks.

"Maybe they're playing a prank." Thelma casts a wary eye in my direction.

"Carl Soto said the police found a dragon hoard last night."

I roll my eyes toward the ceiling. "In case no one noticed, I am the police and no, we did not find a dragon hoard. We uncovered some items, purportedly stolen by the Bling Ring." I don't mention that several acres of private property were dug up and not by wild boar—not mine in this instance but nearby. Rather, someone with a shovel. I think I know what they were looking for .

"That makes slightly more sense," Tallula says.

"Where? I need to see this for myself," Molly says.

I sigh. "Miss Hazelwood, involving yourself in an investigation is a crime." The technicalities linked to that statement are varied, but her meddling is not helpful.

"Sorry, sir."

I nod mildly, letting her know it's okay.

Tallula scrunches up her shoulders as if she's anything but. "Deputy, you said that you had good news. Usually, with good news comes bad news."

I can no longer avoid the inevitable. "I was looking for you, Tallula, because you're right."

For a salon that's usually full of chatter, it goes deathly silent.

"Is she under arrest?" Molly asks, excited by the prospect of a small-town scandal.

"Nothing of the sort," I say with what I hope sounds like assuring authority.

"Any laws I broke were out of state. Probably." Tallula clutches Moink to her chest.

I'll have to follow up on that later, but strictly speaking, likely it's well out of my jurisdiction. "No, this is another matter."

"He's hoping you keep a few beignet buns stashed away for special customers since you run out so fast," Betsy says, voice full of hope.

"There was an incident out on Marais Way. I'm going to need you to come with me."

"At my parents' house?" Tallula swallows and then lifts her chin when I nod as if prepared to meet whatever fate has in store.

When we get outside, I say, "You can follow me in your car, if you'd like."

She goes still. "That means you trust me or you're setting me up."

With a shake of my head, I chuckle. "You and that imagination. Yes, I trust you. No, I'm not doing anything sneaky. I just gave those three enough gossip to keep their tongues wagging through tomorrow. Hop in or follow me, and I'll explain more in a bit."

She doesn't move.

I rest my hand on her shoulder. Moink licks my thumb. "It's a property issue." I'm not trying to be cagey, but Molly gets her hot tips from somewhere, and I'm not about to blab about what happened right here on Main Street.

Tallula eyes the SUV and then her Lexus. "If you don't mind, I'll just follow you."

If I were off duty and in my truck, I would feel slightly insulted, but a police vehicle can be intimidating, especially considering her concern about being arrested, probably worried about what she live-streamed before returning to Hogwash. "I've been in the backseat enough times to understand."

She offers a small smile, and we head to a part of town that has its own security. Usually. I'm not exactly sure what happened here last night, but have a good idea. I'm not keen on getting involved, but considering my job, I have no choice .

As we pull through the wrought iron gate of the Swan Estate with its twin golden swans, I have second thoughts about letting Tallula ride alone. Likely, she's getting nervous and thinking of worst-case scenarios. Thankfully, she has Moink with her.

It's bad, but not that bad. More like something I would've done when I was seventeen.

Tire tracks crisscross the otherwise perfectly manicured lawn leading to the front of the palatial two-story antebellum home with curved wraparound verandas, stately columns, and a wide front entryway.

However, red water runs in the fountain topped with a massive pair of swans. One wears what looks like a white dress. The bottom of it balloons in the colored liquid.

Tallula leaps out of her car. Stricken, she yells, "Is that blood?"

"No, we tested it. Just food dye in the water. It was darker earlier. It'll run itself out of the system."

Her hand claps over her mouth. "Is that my wedding dress? It was a Kitty Mircachi mini, an original design."

"We've been trying to reach your parents, but they're not available."

"They go to France this time of year. Also, Mara mentioned they might stop at the lake house up north on their way home to see the fall colors since the leaves turned later than usual." Unfortunately, they'll be back in time for Thanksgiving. Not that I'm ungrateful, I'm just not eager to see them and be chided. Because no matter how good I try to be, it's not enough .

"I attempted to contact your sister, but she hasn't been answering."

"She had an appointment today."

"I didn't want to bother you, but?—"

"Who would do such a thing? Is there another gang besides the Bling Ring running rampant in Hogwash? The Dragon Gang or something?"

I almost laugh. "I don't think so, but I'm hoping you can help me. It doesn't appear anyone went inside, but we want to check to be sure. Also, there's something by the front portico you should see."

Today must be Tallula's day off. At the Coffee Loft, she usually wears sensible tennis shoes, but she totters in a pair of sky-high heels as if the sight of all this makes her wobbly. She stumbles slightly and I reach for her arm.

Going still, she slowly turns to face me, blinking a few times. Her chin trembles.

"We made sure the premises are secure. You're safe." As a police officer, those are routine words to use, but I mean it. I'd protect Tallula with my life.

She steps closer and winds her arm through mine, clinging tight. She clutches Moink in her other. I'm on duty, but I can't deny the streak of warmth that shoots through me.

"This is the part in the movie when everyone screams at the screen for the pretty girl to turn back," she says at a stage whisper.

My voice low with an attempt at reassurance, I say, "Princess, this isn't a movie."

"That almost makes it worse." She whimpers .

Meeting her eyes, I say, "I will not let anything happen to you. Promise." I was never good with promises, but if given the chance, I'd keep this one.

When we reach the entrance with a large red door framed by two etched glass panels, Tallula gasps. Written in spray paint are the words, Who's the loser now?

"Who would—?" Then she shakes her head. "This is revenge for the llama drama and the flag fiasco...and other things."

"Then you know who did it?"

"Yes—" She's about to say more then falls quiet.

"Yes, but?" I ask, certain she was about to add a conjunction. Who says I didn't pay attention in school? Fine, everyone, but I did focus and make up for all that missed learning when I was at the Academy.

"I have to get this cleaned up. If my parents see it—" She frets.

"It's not like this is high school, you had a party while they were away, and have to hide the evidence."

"No—"

"No, but," I echo, similar to before.

She stabs the keypad on the door and then scurries inside and turns off the alarm. "Doesn't look like he got in."

"No, if the alarm was armed, the service provider would've contacted us had anyone come inside and not turned it off."

"My parents are going to freak out."

I turn in a slow circle, taking in the marble floor in the foyer, the chandelier with polished crystal above, and the golden railing of the staircase spiraling to the second floor. I've never been inside such a fancy place.

"You grew up here," I whisper.

"Played the role of the obedient daughter. Look where that got me," she mutters.

"If you'd like, I can take a quick spin around to make sure everything is secure."

"Be my guest." Tallula lingers by the door as if she doesn't want to be here a moment longer than necessary.

Following protocol, I make sure nothing looks out of place, which isn't hard to do since the reigning queen of opulence appears to have decorated the home. The paintings, silver, and antiques are impressive. The gold filigree moldings and ceiling murals even more so. Every inch of the home invites the eye to land and admire...but my attention repeatedly returns to Tallula.

She confirmed that she grew up here. Are children even allowed inside places like this?

I make quick work of my inspection and return to find her crouched by the door, petting Moink.

Just before I say we can lock up, I notice an advertisement on the wall for Swan's Syrups, reminding me of a contest my grandmother entered years ago. The logo in the corner looks to be the same as when Tallula's great-grandfather started building his empire. It says Swan's Syrup's: the finest molasses in the world! A pair of swans float in a pool of dark, sticky refined sugar, aka molasses, the byproduct of sugar production.

"Is everything?—?"

"As far as I can tell." I'm now certain this incident is separate from the Bling Ring and everything we discovered last night. But I can't rightly claim my cousin isn't involved, which makes me wonder if he faked his disappearance. And if so, why?

When we get outside, dusk settles over the marsh, bringing with it a blanket of misty fog. With the vandalism behind us, Tallula visibly relaxes and her shoulders lower away from her ears.

I open the car door for her. With the window down, I peer through and say, "For the record, I think you look beautiful without all the makeup. I prefer the natural look." I gesture toward my eyes. "The false lashes and stuff."

The worry lines on her forehead smooth and the corner of her lip lifts into a smile.

I can't help but return one.