He glanced out the glass partition that divided his office from the reception area. Deanne sat in front of the computer, her brow furrowed as she concentrated on her work. Her dark hair fell like a curtain across her smooth cheek, and she unconsciously lifted a hand to tuck it behind her ear.
With his eyes, Don traced the contour of her jawline, the graceful curve of her neck, the sensuous mounds of her breasts beneath the light blue blouse she wore. For a moment, he imagined himself undoing the pearl buttons, slipping the silky fabric over her shoulders and down her arms, planting his lips on one of her dusky nipples as she moaned softly into the darkness.
Jesus.
He took no small measure of delight in the stirring of his body as he watched her. What a kick it had been to find out that he could still pleasure a woman like Deanne. That even at his age, he still had a few good miles left in him.
But guilt punched a hole in his happiness, and his newly found swagger deflated like a pinpricked balloon.
He didnt know what he was going to do about Lynette.
Don hadnt set out to hurt her. She was still his wife, the mother of his grown children, and he would always care about her. But he was sick and tired of the pretense. Maybe if Deanne hadnt come along, he could have muddled through the rest of his life without thinking too much about what he was missing. But now he didnt see how he could ever go back.
Shoving some paperwork aside, he got up and walked out to Deannes desk. She looked up with a ready smile, the same one she had for everyone, but there was a little knowing glitter in her eyes that she reserved just for Don.
How had he gotten so damn lucky?
Hey, she said softly.
Hey. He could see just the barest hint of cleavage from where he stood. Deanne was a curvaceous woman, and even the conservative clothes she wore couldnt disguise the lush body beneath. Lynette was thinner and firmer and a much better dresser, but there was something soearthy and maternal about Deannes softness.
Is everything okay at home? Lynette sounded pretty upset.
I dont know. I need to drive out there and see whats going on.
Of course. If theres anything I can do She slid her hand over his and squeezed.
Don waited a moment, then slipped his hand away. Theyd been careful to keep their relationship private. He didnt want word to get out until hed had a chance to talk to Lynette.
Coward, a little voice in the back of his head goaded him.
Hed had plenty of chances to talk to his wife. It wasnt like it would come as a total shock or anything. Lynette had to know things werent right between them. It might even come as a relief.
Of course, Evangeline wouldnt take the news well. Not that it was any of her business. Hed had reservations about her marriage to Johnny, but she hadnt been of a mind to listen so now she could just damn well sit back and bite her tongue the way hed had to do for so long.
Vaughn would be okay. He was a lot less judgmental than his sister. He might not be thrilled by the news, but at least hed be supportive.
I dont know how long this will take. I might not make it back in time to have dinner with you, he warned.
A little frown puckered Deannes brow as she pouted her full lips. Ill miss you.
Ill miss you, too.
Her voice lowered and her eyes deepened. What aboutlater?
Ill get away if I can. You know that.
Don?
Hed started toward the door, but now he turned back. Yes?
She glanced around as if making sure they were all alone. Come back to me, she whispered.
His heart melted and he nodded.
He thought about Deanne all the way home, and it was only when he pulled into his driveway that his conscience started to act up again.
What was he doing? What the hell was he doing?
Men his age didnt have affairs. This was just crazy. Men his age gardened and golfed and took fishing trips with their buddies.
Men like him didnt cheat on their wives or turn their backs on a forty-year marriage. They didnt attract the attention and the affection of a woman almost half their age.
Exceptmiracle of miracles, he had.
And as he sat in his car and stared at the one-story ranch he and Lynette had shared for nearly as long as theyd been married, it hit him suddenly that this house was no longer his home. He didnt belong here anymore.
The only place he felt truly at peace was in Deannes soft, warm embrace.
He was so preoccupied with getting back there, he didnt even notice the blond woman who watched the house from across the street.
Thirteen
Evangeline was driving back from the lab late that afternoon when she got a call from Lapierre. As usual, the captain got right to the point.
Did you hear from a woman named Lena Saunders today?
Yeah, I did, Evangeline said. She called you, too?
A little while ago. What did she tell you?
She said she had information that might help catch Paul Courtlands killer and she wanted to meet in person to talk about it. I told her I was no longer working that case. When I tried to redirect her to Mitchell, she hung up. I figured she was just some crackpot having a little fun.
Shes not a crackpot, Lapierre said. At least, not the kind that we usually hear from on investigations of this nature.
Who is she, then?
Shes a writer.
You mean like a reporter?
No, she writes books about true crime, mostly sensational murder cases in Louisiana. Turns out shes published several books over the past ten years or so.
So shes working on a book about the Courtland case already? Evangelines tone was skeptical.
I dont know about that, Lapierre said. All I know is that she dropped some pretty big names during our phone conversation. By the sound of it, shes cultivated an impressive roster of sources in local law enforcement, including an NOPD deputy chief.
Which one?
Doesnt matter. What does matter is that the woman is well-connected.
Okay. So shes well-connected. Evangeline was puzzled by the phone call. Why was Lapierre telling her all this? Is she coming in to give a statement?
She claims she suffers from a mild form of agoraphobia. According to her, shes prone to panic attacks anytime she leaves her house. So Im sending someone to her place in the morning to hear what she has to say.
If you dont mind my asking, why are you telling me about her? Evangeline said. Im off the case, remember?
If you dont mind my asking, why are you telling me about her? Evangeline said. Im off the case, remember?
Oh, I remember all right. But Lena Saunders is refusing to talk to anyone but you, Theroux.
Me? Why? I dont even know her.
She says she knew Johnny.
Evangeline was stunned into momentary silence.
Her heart started to pound as she clutched her cell phone. How?
Evidently, he was one of her NOPD contacts.
On which case?
She didnt say.
Even though the name had sounded familiar to Evangeline earlier, she was almost certain she hadnt heard about Lena Saunders from Johnny. She would have remembered. And yet if he really had been one of the womans contacts, why hadnt he mentioned her? He surely would have brought it up if he had talked with a writer.
I still dont understand why she wants to see me.
You can ask her yourself tomorrow, Lapierre said.
Does this mean Im back on the case?
Nice try, but this is a one-time-only situation. The woman claims to know something about the Courtland murder case and we need to know what that something is. And since she has some influen-tial friends up the food chain, Im inclined to accommodate her just this once. The last thing I want is a deputy chief breathing down my neck.
Lapierres voice lowered conspiratorially. Look, Theroux. I cant tell you what to expect when you go over there in the morning, but just watch yourself, okay? This woman may not be the kind of tinfoil-hat whacko were used to dealing with, but if you ask me, she sounds like a real kook. This could be nothing more than a figment of her imagination, but weve got to hear her out anyway. When you leave her place, you come straight back to the station and see me. Dont talk to anyone else about this, not even Hebert. You got me?
Yes, maam, Evangeline said, resisting the urge to gloat. The unintended consequence of Lena Saunderss request was that now Evangeline had more leverage than shed had ten minutes ago. Not much more maybe, but if she played her cards right, she might just persuade Lapierre to put her back on the case.
Where and when do I meet her? she asked.
Nine oclock tomorrow morning at her house.
She gave Evangeline the Garden District address, then hung up.
A few minutes later, Mitchell called. Thought youd like to know, I just heard from Lorraine. She was over at Lindas house when Nathan called. Sounds like hes on his way to the cemetery. If you hurry, you can probably still catch him.
Hey, thanks for the heads-up.
No problem. You want me to meet you over there?
Im only ten minutes away. Hed probably be gone by the time you could get there.
Yeah, youre probably right about that. Traffics a bitch today. Anything else going on I should know about?
Evangeline hated keeping things from Mitchell, but she also knew better than to get on Lapierres bad side. Same old, same old, she muttered.
They chatted for a few more minutes, and then she called her mother to warn her shed be late picking up J.D.
It wasnt until shed hung up that Evangeline remembered shed yet to thank her mother for the mobile.
The sun was just setting when Evangeline pulled her car to the curb near the cemetery gates. Killing the engine, she watched as a tour guide shepherded a group of tourists to a waiting bus.
Thats good, she thought. Get them all out of there before dark.
Although popular destinations for tourists, New Orleans cemeteries were extremely dangerous at night. Common sense dictated that the narrow paths between the rows of vaults and tombs could effectively conceal a mugger, and yet every year people fell prey to vicious assaults, especially in the old cemeteries near the Quarter.
Before she climbed out of the car, Evangeline slid her gun into the back pouch of her bag. Then she slipped the strap over her shoulder and across her body for easy access. As she walked across the street, she stayed alert for any untoward movement.