Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I hurried over the police tape and pulled the door shut and whispered, “Not a word about the earring. I was never in there.”

I yanked off the gloves and shoved them in my pocket as Ida Belle, Gertie, and I headed for our rooms to hide. But we were too late. I heard the footsteps coming up the stairs and glanced back just as Bryce came into view. He locked in on Corndog and Petunia and then looked our way, frowning.

“Sorry, Bryce,” Petunia said. “We were just about to start pulling linens and didn’t hear you come in.”

“Don’t touch the linens in that room,” he said. “I’ll take them with me. You can get them back when all this is wrapped up.”

“I doubt I’ll want them at this point, but that’s fine. Can we clean in there yet?”

“Hey, you!” he yelled just as we reached our room doors.

I knew he was talking to us. So here was the dilemma. Did we turn around and risk him recognizing us? Or did we continue into our rooms and pretend we didn’t know he was talking to us? I had a feeling that if we chose option number two, he’d just come bang on our doors, so I turned.

“Are you speaking to us?” I asked as Ida Belle and Gertie turned as well.

“Yeah,” he said as he finished huffing up the stairs and gave Corndog and Petunia a critical eye. “I thought you said no one else was staying here.”

“They just arrived yesterday,” Corndog said. “You didn’t say anything about not renting the other rooms. This one is still closed off, just like you said to do.”

He put his hands on his hips, clearly frustrated. “I shouldn’t have to tell you not to rent any more rooms when you just had someone die here. And that goes double when, as far as I can tell, you’re on the hook for it.”

Corndog paled and Bryce waved at me. “I’m Sheriff Benoit and I’d like a word with you.”

“Here we go,” Ida Belle mumbled.

I started toward him, and he studied me as I approached. At first, his expression was one of complete annoyance, then it shifted to disbelief, and by the time I stood in front of him, outright anger.

“You,” he said. “I know exactly who you are, and you’ve got no business in my parish.”

“Really? I wasn’t aware that taking a couple of vacation days was restricted to certain parishes. You’ll have to point out that law to me.”

He clenched his jaw. “You think I’m going to believe that you’re here for a vacation? Don’t even bother trying that one on me, sweetheart. I know exactly what you’re up to.”

“Don’t ever call me sweetheart. And what is it exactly that you think I’m doing?”

“You’re here to insert your nose in official police business. Well, I’m not your boy toy so it’s not going to fly here.” He looked me up and down and smiled. “Unless you want to give me a spin. Then maybe we can talk.”

“Bryce Benoit!” Petunia said. “I can’t believe you’d say such a thing and to one of our guests. You were raised better.”

“No he wasn’t,” Corndog said.

I smiled and stared at his feet, because I’d met a million Bryces in my time, and I knew exactly where to hit them. Then I looked back up at him.

“Size nine. Carter’s an eleven, so I’m going to pass.”

Ida Belle snorted and Gertie started laughing so hard she choked. Bryce’s face turned beet red.

“I ought to arrest you right now,” he said.

“For taking a vacation or pointing out your, um, shoe size?”

“We both know you’re not on vacation.”

“Well, good luck proving that. The Department of Defense tried and couldn’t manage it, so I have my doubts that you can.”

“Why is it not a surprise that you’re in trouble with the DOD?”

“Oh, I’m not in trouble with them. I’m helping coordinate a lawsuit against them, but my attorney and I still have some bandwidth if you’d like to be added to the list. He loves taking down people who abuse power.”

His eyes widened and I knew he had no idea what to make of my cryptic statement. But given my past, he also knew I might be telling the truth.

“If you’re done with the threatening and gross soliciting part of this conversation,” I said, “I’d like to go brush my teeth and head out for a hike. I came here to relax, and you’re upsetting my chi.”

“You came to relax where a man just died?”

I shrugged. “I didn’t know him. Didn’t know anything about his death until I got here. He died from an allergic reaction, right? Since the three of us aren’t allergic to anything, we’re probably safe.”

“I’m allergic to buttholes,” Gertie said. “And I’m getting itchy.”

“Get out of my sight,” Bryce said. “But if I find out you have anything to do with my case, then I’ll have you sitting in a jail cell with so many charges your attorney will never get you out.”

I laughed and his entire body tensed. “Sure you will.”

I turned around and headed for my room at a leisurely pace, which I knew would only serve to hack him off even more. I heard stomping and glanced over as I opened the door to my room to see him headed back down the stairs carrying a wad of linens and nary an evidence bag in sight. Corndog looked back at me and gave me a thumbs-up, and Petunia grinned before they both hurried after him.

“I’m sorry they have to deal with him,” Gertie said as we headed into my room. “He really does make me itchy.”

“He definitely hasn’t changed any,” Ida Belle said.

“Sure he has,” Gertie said. “He’s gotten worse. What the heck was he thinking, coming in here and threatening Corndog and Petunia? They are some nice people, and I don’t care if Corndog’s memory and eyesight aren’t what they used to be, I still don’t think he used the wrong oil.”

“I’m not convinced either,” I agreed. “But there’s what we think and what we can prove.”

Ida Belle nodded. “The interesting thing is that Petunia had no peanuts or peanut-based items open and available in her kitchen. That means Justin either brought something in himself or got something with peanuts from one of the others.”

“I’m betting on one of the others,” Gertie said. “If he’d brought something in himself, wouldn’t they have found a food wrapper somewhere in his room?”

Ida Belle shook her head. “Bryce didn’t find the earring or notice the lipstick stain on the pillow, so even if he found a wrapper would he have bagged it as evidence or simply tossed it?”

“He’s stupid enough to have tossed it,” Gertie said. “I wish we could see the evidence and the ME’s report. If we knew what food the peanuts were in it might help narrow things down.”

I nodded, trying to come up with a way to get the report that didn’t involve breaking and entering, but I couldn’t think of a single thing. Justin had been a resident of another state, but I didn’t know anyone in Miami who could push the issue.

Figuring it wouldn’t hurt to ask someone who might have some ideas, I pulled out my phone and dialed Detective Casey, a NOLA homicide detective who had helped us out a few times and was someone I trusted to keep things to herself. Especially my things.

“It’s my day off, Redding,” she said when she answered. “I’m having a massage for the first time in two years and getting my hair done for the first time in three. So help me God, if you cause any trouble in New Orleans, I’m canceling our friends card.”

“We’re not even in Orleans Parish, so your hair and muscles are safe.”

“Thank God because I’m going gray. Gray! I’m only forty-one. I’m not supposed to go gray for another twenty years or better. I blame you for that as well. Partially, anyway. The captain gets a chunk and a few are probably on my daughter. So what legally questionable pursuit are you up to now?”

“Nothing legally questionable. Well, not yet, anyway, but I’ve got a situation and wanted a second opinion on options. ”

I gave her a rundown on the case and she groaned.

“What is it with you? Are you offering discounted rates for cases run by incompetent cops?”

“I take that to mean you know Sheriff Benoit?”

“I’m not calling that idiot ‘sheriff’ or anything else remotely resembling a law enforcement title. He’s a joke. Worse than a joke. Jesus, Redding. Can’t you give me something better to work with? How about a nice financial crime in the city? Why do you always have to have impossible crimes with crap cops and sympathetic collateral damage?”

“Just a talent, I suppose. What I would like to see is the ME’s report, but I can’t figure out an angle for acquiring it that doesn’t fall under illegal activities. And Bryce is just itching to put me in jail.”

“He just met you five minutes ago. That’s a record, even for you.”

“It’s not about me. He grew up in Sinful in Carter’s shadow.”

“Bryce grew up under the shadow of cockroaches.”

Gertie snorted and I had to laugh.

“Miami would be the only jurisdiction that could access the report given that he was a resident,” she said. “But it doesn’t sound like they’d have a good reason to.”

“Not really. The death has been put down to natural causes, so unless he had people in Miami gunning for him, who came to Voodoo Island unnoticed and accessed a locked room to kill him, I don’t suppose they would.”

“Impossible and undetectable crimes—that’s your specialty. Don’t get me wrong, if you say something’s up with the whole thing, then I believe you, but I’m afraid they don’t just let us pull background reports and files from other agencies without good reason. And trust me, the narcs in Internal Affairs check everything. Bunch of haters who couldn’t make detective, most of them.”

She blew out a breath. “I’m afraid I don’t have a good answer for you. I don’t know anyone in Miami either, and even if I did, they’d be sticking their neck out and there’s not anything in it for them. This Justin doesn’t sound like a great guy, so my guess is Miami isn’t going to miss him. There certainly no incentive for them to get crossways with another police force or with their own IA.”

“What about this ME…Simpson? Do you know anything about him?”

“Oh yeah. We call him Dr. Who. As in ‘who gave him a medical license?’ You’re really batting zero on this one.”

“So you’re saying there’s a good chance he made an incorrect call with accidental death.”

“Let me put it this way—Bungling Bryce and Dr. Who wouldn’t know a homicide unless they committed it themselves.”

I sighed. I’d figured as much.

“Now, that doesn’t mean this is murder,” Casey said. “But if we’re talking your instincts versus their track records, I sure as hell wouldn’t accept accidental as the gospel.”

“Well, it seems that legally, I have no other option but to accept their take.”

“Uh-huh. Legally , that’s correct. I’m sorry I can’t help with this one, but I don’t see a way to insert myself that the captain can pitch a good story for. Even though I know he likes Bryce and Dr. Who as much as I do. If you figure out a way to tie it to NOLA, let me know.”

As I slipped the phone back in my pocket, I heard the downstairs door slam.

“Sounds like Bryce left,” Ida Belle said .

I nodded. “We better head down and see what kind of trouble he brought with him.”

Corndog and Petunia were standing in the kitchen and they both looked pale.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

Corndog dropped onto one of the stools. “He said he’s going to charge me with manslaughter.”

My heart dropped, and Gertie sucked in a breath. It was even worse than I’d imagined.

Petunia shook her head, tears of anger and fear already forming. “Why would he do that? Even if Corndog made a mistake—which I don’t believe for a minute—how can he charge him with killing that boy?”

I shook my head. “It honestly doesn’t make sense to me. I don’t know what he gets out of it. You said there’s no bad blood between you, right?”

“We don’t like him,” Petunia said. “No one with a lick of sense does, but we haven’t ever had bad doings with him. Certainly nothing that would make him want to charge Corndog with a crime.”

I blew out a breath. “Bryce can’t actually charge you with anything. The DA has to do that.”

“But he’s the one whispering in the DA’s ear, isn’t he?” Corndog asked.

“Yes. But I have my doubts the DA would want to pursue it. It wouldn’t look good, and most DAs are all about their image. The majority are looking to make a go at a political career, and launching legal attacks on senior citizens is bad for voting business.”

“What if they offer me a plea to avoid trial?” Corndog asked. “That’s what they do in the TV shows. Not that I’d agree, mind you. I know darned good and well I didn’t make a mistake. I’d have to sign a statement saying I did it, wouldn’t I? That’s the same as lying under oath.”

I could tell he was getting worked up and tried to calm him down.

“It’s more likely the entire thing will be dropped because no one can prove what actually happened. They can’t prove you used peanut oil any more than we can prove Justin didn’t eat something after dinner that had peanuts in it. There’s enough reasonable doubt here to fill the Gulf.”

“Then why bother pushing this to the DA at all?” Petunia asked. “Why try to cause us trouble when he knows nothing is likely to come of it in the end?”

“Except costing us a bunch of money for an attorney,” Corndog said. “And the rumors will kill our business. No one will want to stay someplace where the owners kill their guests.”

Petunia gave him a bleak look, and I clenched my jaw in frustration. He was absolutely right. Even without proof, the court of public opinion could ruin them. I wasn’t worried about Corndog going to prison or even facing a conviction. Alexander would never let that happen. But I couldn’t do a thing about gossip.

And gossip was more lethal and more corrupt than the legal system.

As soon as we were in Ida Belle’s SUV and on our way home, we went over our options. It was a brief discussion because there weren’t a lot of them. Either we turned the mess over to Alexander and let him deal with the DA while the gossip chips fell where they may, or we pushed the homicide theory with zero support from the ME, no proof, and a handful of suspects by reason of opportunity but with no solid motive.

“If we want to pursue this, I think we have to work it backward,” I said finally. “Usually we have a murder and we look for motive and opportunity. In this case we have opportunity but no clear indication of murder and no motive. We’re out of luck on the murder verdict because Simpson doesn’t sound any more competent than Bryce. So that leaves motive to pursue.”

Ida Belle nodded. “You want to figure out who had a good enough reason to kill Justin and then maybe you can back into the how and when.”

“Exactly. If we can get enough, Alexander might be able to push the state police to step in, and then we’d have a real investigation. And hopefully, a qualified autopsy.”

“If the parish is stuck with the cost of burial, they’ll cremate him,” Gertie said. “For that matter, if his friends decide to take that on, they will probably make the same decision. Younger generations aren’t as hung up on burial traditions as older folk.”

“And it’s a lot cheaper,” Ida Belle said. “I’m going to be cremated. Already got it arranged. If I’m not sleeping on silk sheets with a ten-thousand-dollar piece of wood around me while I’m alive, I’ll be darned if I’m going to when I’m dead.”

I nodded. “I think the first place we have to start is that earring. If Bryce had discovered it, then he would have blundered into the middle of the group and asked them who it belonged to. He doesn’t strike me as the type who knows when to keep an ace in the hole.”

“Definitely not,” Ida Belle said. “The person who lost it must have been worried that it had come off in the room and it was still there since Bryce never mentioned it. But if Petunia found it while cleaning and turned it over to Bryce, then he might ask questions they didn’t want to answer.”

“So what’s our first move?” Gertie asked.

I stared out the window for several seconds then huffed.

“We head home and pack a bag. We have a reunion to crash.”