“Whoa.” He drew back looking shell-shocked. “Darn it. I’ve got to go.”
“We’ve got to go.”
The day’s flow of tourists had deserted the wide and winding way along River Road. Most of the once fantastic mansions were set well back, but often on modest lots cut from the vast acreage they once commanded. The visible signs of fortunes made in indigo and sugar clung to the shabby-grand houses. So did the odor of inequity.
“I haven’t been out here in years,” Gray said. “I like it better in the evening. You can’t see the decay so clearly.”
Marley said, “You’re right. A bit like a faded photo in sepia tones. But it’s so creepy, it’s great.”
“You would think that.”
She didn’t come back at him for the remark and he was grateful.
The devil made him ask, “Are you afraid of the dark, or ghosts, or any of that stuff?”
Marley glanced at him and, with a completely straight face, said, “Not the dark. Ghosts are okay if they aren’t the mean kind. Pinching isn’t my thing. And getting your ears pulled is the pits. I could do without poltergeists. Werewolves can be benevolent—but they’re unpredictable. I don’t think about any of those much, but I really have negative vibes about the undead.”
Glad I asked. “You don’t really think all that stuff’s for real?”
She gave him an odd look. “Don’t you?”
Gray frowned, searching for a way to change the subject. “You didn’t say how your dad is. It must have been at least kind of nice to see him.”
“It was. He’s my dad. Same as always. Bossy. He was just fine, thank you. Gus doing okay?”
He smiled to himself. “Irascible as ever. I got in a few hours’ work this afternoon and he hovered the whole time. All he wanted to talk about was you.”
“Am I supposed to feel bad about that?” She gave him a puckish smile.
Gray sighed. “Gus has got a sense of humor, thank God. If you can laugh at yourself it’s got to make life a lot easier—even when it’s hard.”
Myrtle Woods bore no marker. If you didn’t have an idea where to turn in, you’d drive right by.
“I think this is it,” Gray said, driving his well-used gray Volvo between the trunks of old trees. He rolled down his window and the thick, exotic scent of jasmine, magnolia and the musky bite of evening clover filled the car.
“It’s a good thing I came with you,” Marley said.
Gray took a moment to say, “I’m glad you came, but why is it a good thing?”
“It’s deserted out here and it’s going to be dark soon. I wouldn’t want you here on your own.”
He laughed. “You’re going to protect me?”
“You’d be surprised what I can do if I have to,” she said, glad she sounded braver than she felt.
“No, I wouldn’t…Car over there. One familiar expensive black sedan. I think it’s the one she was in yesterday. Do you see Sidney?”
“Nope. I hate those tinted windows. They look like they should be on mob cars.”
Gray drove up and parked beside the BMW.
Marley registered that he wore a lightweight jacket. He was usually more casual. “Isn’t the jacket hot?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“Take it off then. We aren’t going to a garden party.”
“I’ll be keeping it on.”
She stared at him. “Do you have a gun?”
“Yeah. I know what I’m doing. Let’s go.”
They didn’t have far to go. Sidney fell in beside Gray before they reached the front steps of the house. She gave Marley an unfriendly look and said, “Do you mind waiting here?” to her. “Gray and I need some privacy. We can go to the gallery at the back,” she added to Gray.
“We’re all in this,” Gray said. “Marley comes, too.”
Sidney narrowed her dark eyes. “You wanted to see me at Scully’s,” she told Marley. “You didn’t say why. I don’t see why I would interest you.”
“You didn’t give me a chance to tell you why. I’m looking for Liza Soaper and Amber Lee.” She deliberately didn’t mention Pearl Brite. “I have a history with them.” That wasn’t a lie.
“History?” Sidney quit walking. “What kind of history?”
“Let’s go out back and talk,” Marley said.
“I don’t like evasive people,” Sidney said slowly.
“That makes three of us,” Gray said. He walked up the wide front steps, wooden and rotting in places, and started off along the gallery that surrounded the house.
Marley kept up with him, and Sidney’s hurrying feet in very high heels could soon be heard catching up with them.
A number of white wicker chairs lined the wall under the back windows. Two had been pulled forward, a table placed between and a bottle of white wine nestled in an ice bucket flanked by two glasses.
Marley only just stopped herself from saying, “Cozy.”
Without pausing, Gray pulled up a third chair and indicated for the women to sit, which they did. He joined them and said, “Wine?”
Sidney echoed Marley’s, “No, thanks.” Marley crossed her legs and jiggled a toe. She didn’t check out how Sidney might be looking at her.
“Let’s have it,” Gray said. “We don’t have to worry about being overheard here.” Lawns in need of mowing stretched away from the house. Coming close to the gallery without being seen would be impossible.
“I’m only going to talk to you, Gray,” Sidney said. “I don’t know Marley.”
“Really? I thought you’d lived in New Orleans all your life.”
“I have.”
“But you never heard of the Millets.”
Sidney sighed. “I try not to take any notice of silly gossip. I come from an old family, too, and we keep above that sort of thing.”
“Silly gossip?” Marley said.
Sidney waved a white hand. “Psychic or paranormal or whatever. Rubbish. Everyone knows there’s no such thing. And the red hair. Decent people would be sympathetic to something like that.”
Neither Gray nor Marley responded.
“You can’t help being born with hair like that. The gene must be very strong. You could always dye it, though.”
Gray hummed.
Marley gave Sidney a sweet smile. “I knew the first time I saw you that you had a generous heart. Thank you.” People like Sidney Fournier weren’t good at recognizing sarcasm and Marley wanted to gain the woman’s confidence. “You’ve been through a lot with Amber missing, Sidney. It must have been so hard to have people pushing you from all sides. I’ll never understand why men of the law-and-order type don’t have more empathy.”
Sidney shook her head. She was even more beautiful in the failing light, the gold tones from the setting sun accentuating her olive skin and the fine bones in her face. “Thank you,” she said. “It’s been so horrible. And I haven’t known where to turn.”
“Why, Sidney?” Marley inched closer to the other woman. “You have family and friends.”
Sidney burst into tears, shocking Marley, who got up and rubbed Sidney’s shoulders. She patted her back. “Take it easy. Give yourself time. Take some deep breaths.” She glanced at Gray who looked bemused.
“It’s my family and friends I’m worried about,” Sidney said. “I don’t know what to do. I want to go to the police, but I can’t. It’s too dangerous.”
“They said you didn’t want to talk to them at all,” Gray pointed out.
“I’ve been threatened,” Sidney said through gulps. “Not openly. Oh, no, it’s very subtle, but I know what it all means. If I say anything about what I think, someone will get hurt.” She passed the back of a shaky hand over her mouth. “If they haven’t already. I think they have, don’t you?”
Marley looked at Gray who gave a slight shake of the head. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Sidney,” he said. “Tell me what you wanted to say.”
Sidney got up and paced the length of the back gallery. She stopped in front of them. “I got a call from a man who said he can prove I’m the one who knows where Amber is. He said I’d be accused of doing something to her and I’d go to jail. He said…he said they could convict me without a body.” She cried again. “Just ignore me. I haven’t been able to tell anyone anything. It’s all bottled up inside.”
“The police need to know,” Gray said gently.