Not One of Us(73)

“Hello, Officers,” I said cheerily, edging into the group. “Everything going all right?”

They all abruptly turned to stare at me. Lieutenant Oliver spoke first. “Everything’s under control, Ms. Trahern. How’s your brother doing?”

“As far as I know, he’s fine. Presumably right at home where he should be. Of course, I’d feel more certain if there was a cop car still parked in front of our house, so . . .”

Oliver didn’t appear the least bit fazed by my dig. “Good to hear he’s doing well. Deputy Blackwell’s told me that you two have an appointment on Monday to talk about a possible lead on the case.”

I had to bite my tongue to keep from asking if they believed their mere presence at the Blessing meant more than solving an actual crime. Bottom line—they worked for the mayor, and this event was a huge financial boon to Bayou Enigma.

“Yes. It wouldn’t take that much of her time to hear me out before then. But, whatever. Good day, everyone.”

I hoofed it back to the pier, eager to exit before my bitterness caused me to say more that I’d probably later regret. Cheers and clapping erupted by the picnic area. I’d missed the cook-off winner announcement.

“Jori, wait.”

Tegan popped up beside me. “I can spare a few minutes to talk if you’d like.”

“Gee, thanks.” I kept walking. “Wouldn’t want to impose.”

“I’m trying to help you the best I can, given the circumstances. If you’d rather wait until Monday, then okay. I realize you’re busy too.”

I came to a halt. “I don’t mean to be ungrateful. It’s been super stressful for me ever since I came home. The transition would have been difficult enough without all the added drama.”

She nodded and folded her arms. “Of course. I’m a single mom, so I understand a little about stress. Not that I’m comparing my situation to yours. Tell me more about your aunt and why you think she’s behind everything.”

I filled her in as succinctly as possible, conscious of her valuable time ticking away. “So you see, my aunt’s a great actress. For years, I never dreamed she had this dark side—until I talked to her ex-husband.”

“Your theory is that she threatened you and kidnapped Zach to keep you from exposing her crime of buying a baby.”

“It sounds far fetched when you repeat it back to me like that, but yeah, that’s exactly what I believe.”

Tegan nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe. But you can’t believe your aunt killed her own son that she loved or had anything to do with the Cormier murders. You used to think the threats were all tied into everything else.”

“True,” I admitted. “I was way off there. I wanted so much to help discover what happened to Deacon that I lumped everything together in my mind.”

“Do you think your aunt’s really capable of murdering Strickland?”

I didn’t hesitate with my answer. “Yes.”

“Very well. Lieutenant Oliver and I will interview her as soon as possible. If she confesses or we uncover evidence to arrest her for suspicion of murder, I’ll let you know. In the meantime, don’t speak with your aunt or tip her off in any way that we’re investigating her.”

“Absolutely.”

Tegan turned to the group of officers by the waterfront and waved. “I should get back.”

“Wait. Before you go. Have y’all made any progress in the Cormier case?”

“I can’t answer that.”

“You told me there’s evidence that law enforcement was always aware they’d been murdered. Can you give me anything more specific?” I’d been eaten up with curiosity ever since she’d slipped me that tiny bit of information.

“Why are you so obsessed with that old case? I know you used to date Deacon in high school, but still.”

Dating in high school. Put like that, it sounded as though Deacon and I merely had a passing crush for one another as kids. But as corny as it might seem to outsiders, Deacon had meant so much more to me than a teenage crush. He always would.

During a difficult time in my life when my mother was dying and Zach was in his own bubbled world, he’d been the one person I could talk to. Really talk to. Mimi was great, a solid presence in my life, but hardly one who invited emotional conversations or wanted to listen to my vulnerabilities. She was old-school tough and would merely tell me to accept what was and move on, just as she had done.

I struggled to explain this to Tegan. “Call it closure. I may have only been a teenager when he disappeared, but I’ve never felt closer to anyone than I did Deacon. Not even now.”

Her face softened, but she shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I really can’t jeopardize the investigation by discussing it.”

Even though I’d expected that response, I sighed, and my shoulders hunched forward. “I get it.”

“Blackwell!” One of the men called her name from the waterfront.

She nodded at him and began walking away. “Later, Jori.”

I watched as she marched toward her peers. Halfway there, she held out an arm to them, an index finger waving. One moment, she signaled. To my surprise, she turned around and headed back to me.

“We discovered a recording,” she said. “On it, Deacon was being filmed by his mother. He wore a tux and held a corsage in one hand. Moments later, someone entered the house, and gunshots were fired. There’s a long pause on the recording, but before the battery died, there’s the sound of the killer and one or more of his accomplices returning. Presumably to clean up and dispose of the bodies.”