I stood where I was for a moment, debating whether to let the pastor know I’d heard their conversation or pretend I hadn’t. But there were too many secrets and too many accusations to just turn around and walk away. I was dying to know who Tyrone was and what had happened to him. The key to Dontae’s death was in those details, I was certain of it.
When I was convinced that we were alone, I stepped out of the shadows and walked quickly across the garden. “Pastor Rod? Are you all right?”
His head jerked up at the sound of my voice, and he made a visible effort to compose himself. “Well hello. Out for a bit of fresh air? Where’s your husband? Don’t tell me you left him alone.”
“Actually, I’ve been looking for Lula Belle. Have you seen her?”
The pastor nodded slowly. “She’s in her room, I believe. She said she was going to lie down for a bit.” He scooted over on the bench. “Would you like to join me?”
I had a feeling he was just being polite, but I thanked him and sat before he could change his mind.
“What do you want with Lula Belle?” he asked warily. “If I may ask?”
“I just have a few questions about someone she used to know.”
“Maybe I can help. Lu and I have been friends forever.”
A chill from the stone bench crept through my jeans. “Maybe you can,” I said, suppressing a shiver. “You all knew Monroe Magee when he lived here before, isn’t that right?”
Pastor Rod inclined his head a fraction of an inch. “I knew him.”
His careful phrasing wasn’t lost on me. “And so did the others,” I said. “Do you know if Monroe and Lula Belle were lovers?”
The pastor looked a little taken aback. “That’s an odd question to ask, don’t you think?”
I shrugged. “I guess it is, but I think it’s a question you know the answer to.”
He actually laughed, which surprised me. “Well, you have me there. But you’ll have to forgive me for not indulging in idle gossip.”
He was good at dodging my questions, but I didn’t let that discourage me. I’d just have to come at him from a different angle. I decided to lay a few cards on the table, in the hopes that it would encourage the same from him. “I heard you and Tamarra talking. Can I ask what happened in the past that she’s so determined to keep hidden?”
He dodged again, saying, “You sure do ask a lot of questions.”
“What can I say? I have a curious nature.”
The pastor’s smile faded, and his gaze dropped to his hands. “It’s a personal matter. You understand.”
I was disappointed but still not ready to give up. I stretched out my legs in front of me and let a little time pass before I tried again. “It sounds like Monroe stirred up some old hurts when he came back. Is that what Tamarra wants to protect all of you from?”
“Tamarra’s a sweet girl, Mrs. Broussard. She cares about the people she loves.”
I immediately felt guilty for getting on his case about telling the truth while still masquerading as “Mrs. Broussard,” but I tried not to let it bother me. It was, you know, for the greater good. “I can tell she does, but keeping secrets isn’t always the best way to handle things. Doesn’t the Bible say that the truth will set you free?”
The pastor conceded my point with a nod. “It does.” He rolled his head on his neck and let out a weary sigh. “Grey said you’d talked to him yesterday, but I was under the impression he didn’t give you any information.”
“He didn’t give me much,” I admitted.
“And yet you expect me to spill my guts?”
“Why don’t I tell you what I know, and you can fill in the rest.”
The pastor didn’t exactly agree, but he didn’t refuse, so I jumped in and hoped he’d keep his end of my proposed bargain. “I know that Monroe worked at Letterman Industries back in the seventies and that some of the people who live here worked there, too. I know that something happened back then that everybody wants to keep hidden, and I suspect that whatever it was, it had something to do with why everyone is so angry with Monroe, and with Dontae’s death. I heard Tamarra say that she’s worried that you and the others will be charged as accessories to murder, but I don’t know whether she’s talking about Dontae’s death or whatever happened forty years ago. How am I doing so far?”
The pastor rubbed his neck slowly and let out a sigh that seemed to come up from the depths of his soul. “Sounds like you know quite a bit.”
“Not really. Who
is
Willie? Hyacinth’s husband?”
“Can I ask where you heard that name?”
“Cleveland mentioned him earlier tonight. Am I right? Was he married to Hyacinth?”
The pastor nodded slowly. “Yes, Willie Fiske was Hyacinth’s husband, God rest his soul.”
“And Tamarra’s grandfather.”
“That’s right.”
“How does Monroe Magee fit into all of this? Why do so many people think that Monroe killed Dontae?”
The pastor linked his hands together over his knees and studied the shadow they made on the ground. “I don’t know about Dontae’s murder,” he said after what felt like forever. “Far as I know, nobody had any reason to want Dontae dead.”
“If Monroe didn’t kill him, do you think whoever did might have been trying to kill someone else? Like maybe Monroe himself?”
The pastor nodded again. “I think it’s possible.” He looked up at me and said, “Believe me, Mrs. Broussard, if I
knew
anything at all, I’d come clean immediately.”
“But you suspect.”
“I suspect.”
“And do you know why anyone might’ve wanted Monroe dead?”
He sent me a ghost of a smile. “That’s where it gets tricky.”
“So tricky that you’ll risk your professional reputation to keep somebody’s secret?”
Pastor Rod smiled sadly. “I’m a man of God. I should be above earthly things, right?” He groaned a little as he got to his feet. “It’s not somebody else’s secret, Mrs. Broussard. It’s my secret, too, but it’s not about me. Forty years ago, we were all young and stupid. We thought we were invincible, and nobody had any idea that the decisions we made then would have such long-lasting consequences.”
I was afraid that he was going to walk away, so again I asked, a little more pointedly this time: “What happened back then?”
He looked down at me, frowning deeply. “Why do you care so much, Mrs. Broussard? You barely knew Dontae, and it’s not as if you and Hyacinth are friends.”
I thought about telling him about my friendship with Old Dog Leg, but I feared that if the others thought I was on Monroe’s side, they’d never talk to me again. “I don’t like unanswered questions,” I said. “I lost my parents in an accident the year I turned twelve, and there are still way too many things about
that
that I don’t know.” I stumbled a bit as I said, “And my first husband was a murder victim, too, so I can’t just sit by and let Dontae’s death go unsolved. It’s easy to see that your friends have been hurt by what happened all those years ago. Maybe talking about it after all this time would help.”
Pastor Rod was quiet for a long moment, then seemed to come to a decision. “You’re right. We all worked at Letterman Industries together—me, Monroe, Cleveland, Grey, Dontae, and Willie. The pay was horrible. We worked hard, but none of us was ever able to make ends meet.”
He sighed again and closed his eyes. “A few of us thought we had a solution to all of our problems. We knew there was a big shipment of stereo equipment at the warehouse—the kind that would bring big money on the streets.” He slid a glance at me and almost smiled. “They were some killer eight-track players. Hot stuff back then.” His smile slipped away and the sadness returned. “I’m not proud of what we did, but I’ve made my peace with God.”
“And who was Tyrone?”
“The night guard. A friend. But he wasn’t in on it. We timed everything perfectly. Knew we’d be in and out before he came by on his rounds. And we would have been.”
“What went wrong?”
The pastor opened his eyes and blinked in the darkness. “I wasn’t inside, you understand. I was the driver. They called me Hot Rod back then.” That ghostly smile made a return appearance. “There was nobody around here better behind the wheel.”
“You were a getaway driver?” A sharp laugh escaped my lips.
“I’m a man of many talents,” he said. “I wasn’t always this old, you know.”
“So what happened? What went wrong?”
He shook his head. “Monroe was there. He wasn’t really part of our group, but Primrose was sweet on him and she’d already told him too much. We had to pull him in. He tripped an alarm, and Tyrone came back early to check. The others tried to get out before Tyrone realized who they were. They were wearing ski masks, so they should have been able to just disappear. But Monroe panicked, called Willie by name.”
My heart dropped like a rock, for Willie, for Monroe, for Pastor Rod, and for Old Dog Leg. “What happened?”
“Tyrone pulled his gun. We were friends, but he was furious. He felt we’d betrayed him, and he wasn’t going to let us get away with it.” His voice cracked, and an incredible sadness settled over both of us.
“Willie shot him?”
Pastor Rod nodded. “Afterward, he took the fall for all of us. Insisted right up to the end that he was working alone.”
“And Hyacinth went along with that?”
“She put up a fuss, but Willie was adamant. She went to the police once, but he told them that she was lying to save him.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “And the police believed that?”
“They had their man. They didn’t worry about looking any further. That’s how things were back then for people like us. I know it was selfish to keep our mouths shut, but Willie was going down for murder anyway. Telling the truth wouldn’t have lightened his sentence at all.” It was more than selfish, and I wondered if their silence had led to Dontae’s murder. Misery and guilt radiated from Pastor Rod’s dark eyes. “We promised Willie we’d stick with Hyacinth and make sure she was taken care of. She was too proud to take charity, so one by one, the others moved in here and made sure she had a steady income.”
“What about Monroe?” I asked.
“The others wanted to throw him to the wolves, but he ran off. None of us knew where he’d gone. After a while, we went on with our lives as best we could. At least, I did, and I thought the others had.”
“And then Monroe came back.”
“Only God knows why. He said that he heard about Willie dying in prison. Got some foolish idea that he needed to apologize to Hyacinth.”
“He thought an apology would make things better? After all this time?”
Pastor Rod shrugged. “He told me that he’d gone to Oregon and made a new life for himself. He had a wife and a couple of children. Got a good job and tried to put the past behind him. But lately, I guess he’s been looking back. It’s a side effect of old age, the urge to reach back and fix what you did wrong.”
“So he returned to New Orleans and said he was sorry. How did the rest of you react to that?”
“Not well. All of us men were in on that warehouse job together. Monroe was no worse than the rest of us, but he was no better either. Maybe we all kept quiet while Willie took the fall, but the rest of us stuck around to make sure Hyacinth was taken care of. Monroe didn’t even bother to do that.”
Which explained the hostility I’d sensed the night Gabriel and I checked into the Love Nest. “What else did he plan to do while he was in town? Did he tell you?”
Pastor Rod shook his head. “I don’t know. Nothing specific. His wife died last year and the kids are busy with their own lives. He doesn’t see much of them and he’s lonely. Maybe he just wants to be with friends and family again. A guilty conscience is a stern taskmaster. It’ll get you doing things that don’t make much sense.”
He was about to say more, but the sound of voices nearby reminded us that we weren’t alone at the Love Nest. Just like that, the pastor shut down in front of my eyes. “I’ve said too much. Please, Mrs. Broussard, if you have a heart, let this remain between us.”
“I can’t promise that,” I said. “The police are investigating Dontae’s murder. You know it’s going to come out eventually.”
His eyes looked haunted, his face gaunt. I think he would have sacrificed himself if he thought he could save the others. Just as Willie had tried to do. I thought over what he’d told me. “How does Lula Belle fit into the robbery?”
“She doesn’t.”
I didn’t believe him. “She’s here and she’s one of you. Primrose clearly blames her for what happened back then.”
The pastor’s gaze flickered toward mine. “Lula Belle hasn’t always behaved with discretion,” he said reluctantly. “Her antics caused some dissension between Willie and Hyacinth. And Primrose is very protective of those she loves.”
“What kind of dissension, exactly?” As if I couldn’t guess.
Pastor Rod shook his head and stood. “I’ve already said too much.”
“Then I’ll just ask Lula Belle.”
Pastor Rod rubbed his face and groaned. “I wish you’d just drop the whole thing. I think that would be a kindness. But if you insist on talking to Lula Belle, I will ask you to leave her alone tonight. She’s not feeling well. She complained of an upset stomach after dinner. Let her sleep. You can talk to her tomorrow.”
He put a hand on my shoulder briefly, then left me sitting in the garden while I tried to absorb everything he’d told me. It wasn’t until he’d been gone for a few minutes that the importance of what he’d said hit me.
Lula Bella wasn’t feeling well. After dinner. In a house where someone else had been poisoned less than forty-eight hours earlier. Not good. Not good at all.
Twenty-six
Panic almost choked me as I raced back along the path and let myself inside. I thought about calling for help, but I didn’t know who to trust, so I rushed past the parlor and turned down the corridor into the annex.
I had a feeling of déjà vu as I reached Lula Belle’s door and knocked. She was an unpleasant old woman, but that didn’t mean I wanted her dead.
“Lula Belle? Are you in there?”
My heart was in my throat and my senses were on such high alert I think I could actually hear the blood pumping through my veins.
“Lula Belle?”
I was so sure she was dying that when the door flew open, I stumbled backward a step in surprise. The last person I actually expected to see was Lula Belle, but there she was, scowling up at me. She wore a pair of silky pajamas and a hairnet, a pair of scuffed purple slippers on her feet.