Darkwater Lies Page 11

  “I’m not sure anything about this is simple.” Dimitri provided more details about Princess Katerina and the value of the jewels according to what Edmond and the princess had told him and Adelaide.

  “I hear ya, man, I do. No worries. I’ll start on this immediately and should have an initial report ready in the morning. How about I call you around ten and give you an update?”

  Really? “That fast?”

  Rodney smiled. “I said an initial report. Just what I can find out in my starting-point queries and look-see.”

  “Oh. Okay.” That made more sense. “I just need to stress again how critical discretion is on this matter.”

  Rodney nodded. “I understand completely, and I assure you, I’m the epitome of discretion. I’ve never had a complaint yet in that regards.”

  “Good because . . . Well, you understand.”

  “I do.” Rodney ran a hand through his almost shoulder-length hair. “Let me get through my questions now.”

  “Okay.” Dimitri sat back in his chair, allowing himself to relax a little. Ever since he’d walked into the gritty little office on the backside of the Viavant-Venetian Isles neighborhood, about twenty or so minutes from the Darkwater Inn, his gut had been twisted into knots. Now he felt like he could breathe somewhat.

  “Chances are slim that I’ll be able to recover the cash, but I’m sure you know that.”

  Dimitri nodded. He’d figured that fifty grand was gone forever. “Aside from the cash and the tiara, there was nothing else inside the safe, correct?”

  He started to nod, but hesitated. Adelaide had been so ada- mant . . . “There’s a chance that there was something else in the drawer itself, but I don’t know what.” Dimitri scrambled to remember what Adelaide had described. “Something tubular in a black pouch.”

  “Interesting. No idea what it could be?”

  Dimitri shook his head. “I’m not even sure there was something else in there. One person says there was, another says there wasn’t. We know for sure the diadem and the cash were in there, though. There’s no question on those.”

  Rodney nodded. “I’ll keep my eyes open for anything that might could have been in the safe that would be tubular that would fit in the drawer.” He flipped through the papers Dimitri had provided him. “The 200EH safe’s drawer, if I remember correctly, is about fifteen or so inches deep and somewhere about two and a half feet wide. That would easily hold a small-to-medium-sized tube and the tiara.”

  Dimitri nodded.

  “And the cash was not in the drawer, yes?”

  “Right. The cash was on the shelves in the safe.” Dimitri knew this to be true. They always kept it there and had for years.

  Rodney nodded, as if he were mentally cataloguing all the details. He pointed at one of the pages. “These are all the people who were inside the vault within the last week and knew what was inside the safe, correct?”

  “Yes. That’s everyone.”

  He glanced over the list, tilting his head from side to side. “Not too many people on your list.”

  “Not many people knew what was in the safe.”

  “Limits suspects. Makes my job easier.” Rodney looked up from the papers. “And three of those are now dead.”

  “Yes.” Dimitri still had a hard time accepting the murders. Three men, gone . . . and for what? Money? Jewels?

  “Okay. Well, I’ll see what I can dig up and figure out.” Rodney stood.

  That was it? Dimitri pushed to his feet. “You don’t have any more questions for me?”

  Rodney grinned. “Not right now. I’m sure once I start digging into the case I’ll have more.”

  Dimitri handed the man a check that should cover quite a chunk of the fee. Rodney glanced at the amount and nodded. “This will get me started.”

  “Okay, then. I guess I’ll just wait to hear from you tomorrow morning.” Dimitri extended his hand.

  Rodney shook it. “Yes, I’ll call you around ten.”

  Dimitri let the older man lead him out of the back office and onto the street. Several people—the unsavory types—stared at him as he returned to his car.

  As he drove off he sent up a silent prayer that he’d done the right thing. Even if it wasn’t, at least in doing his father’s bidding he’d bought himself a little time to figure out what to do to save Lissette’s position at the Darkwater Inn.

  And Adelaide’s.

  14

  Beau

  “Blue Oak never disappoints.” Vincent Fountaine swiped a napkin across his mouth. “I don’t think I could ever get tired of the Doobin’ Lubin. Ever.”

  Beau chuckled, but Addy’s dad had a point. The hearty sandwich from the BBQ joint was a masterpiece of pulled brisket, smoked sausage, coleslaw mixed with pickles, onions, and a signature BBQ sauce stuffed on a bun. It was melt-in-your-mouth delicious.

  Addy stuffed empty take-out containers into the trash. “You should try something else from the menu, Daddy. Everything is amazing.”

  “You try everything. I’ll stick with what I love.” Addy grinned at Beau as she shook her head.

  He grinned back and carried silverware to the sink. He was as comfortable in Vincent’s home as he was his own. No wonder—the Fountaine house was practically his second home. After his father died in the line of duty when he was a boy, Vincent had taken Beau under his wing. Taken him hunting and fishing, showered him with fatherly praise, and made sure Beau always had a remarkable male role model.

  Beau had never forgotten how Vincent had stepped into the part of parent after Beau’s mother was killed by a drunk driver when Beau was just a teen. He didn’t know what he would’ve done, who he would have become, had it not been for Vincent Fountaine. So,naturally, when the best-selling thriller author had asked Beau to be his crime investigation source, Beau had been only too happy to agree.

  That had been a decade ago, and the bond between the two men had only grown, even when last year Beau had finally revealed the secret he’d kept for fifteen years: that he’d been a match as a living-kidney donor to Addy’s alcoholic mother and hadn’t donated. Both Vincent and Addy had understood, which made Beau know the Fountaine family was his own. Being with them . . . Beau was home.

  Addy finished folding the dishtowel and laid it over the sink separator.

  “Okay, Addybear, out with it. What’s on your mind?”

  She grinned and went to stand behind her father, wrapping her arms around his neck and placing a kiss on his cheek. “You’ve always been able to read people, Daddy.”

  He guffawed. “Not all people, but definitely you. So spit it out. What’s bugging you?”

  She sat down and motioned for Beau to sit as well. “It’s about Claude Pampalon.”

  Beau’s gut tightened into a wad. “I can’t discuss an ongoing investigation with you, Addy. You know that.” But boy did he want to talk it over with Vincent. Yet that would mean asking the man he respected most in the world to keep something from his daughter, which would break Vincent. Beau wouldn’t put him in that position.

  “No, I actually have something I need to tell you. Officially, I guess.”

  “Oh. Okay.” He pulled out his ever-present notebook and pen.

  “I know Claude Pampalon told you and Marcel that there was nothing in the safe except the cash and the princess’s tiara, but he’s lying.”

  That snapped Beau’s head up to look at her. “Maybe one of you are just mistaken?”

  She shook her head. “No. I checked.”

  “How?”

  Addy held out her hands. “Let me explain.” She took a drink of her root beer in the Blue Oak cup. “The video surveillance from Monday morning showed Claude carrying a cylinder-shaped item in a black pouch into the vault. I saw it in the safe’s drawer Monday evening when I put Katerina’s tiara in there. I touched it. The black pouch was velvet and sat in the back of the drawer. I put the tiara in front of it, shut the drawer, then locked the safe.” Her eyes were steady as they held his stare. “I kno
w this, Beau. I’m one hundred percent positive.”

  “Okay.” But . . . that didn’t make sense. “Is it possible that he maybe got it out after you put in the tiara?”

  She shook her head. “That’s what he said he did, but he didn’t.”

  “How do you know?” Vincent asked.

  “Because of the video surveillance. From the time we left after putting the tiara in there, he never went back into the vault. Not once. So there was no way for him to take anything out. It would’ve been impossible for him to have gotten into the vault without being caught on camera, and he never went back in.” She turned back to Beau. “He said that what he’d had in there wasn’t valuable and he’d had it in the safe for sentimental reasons. Does that sound like Claude Pampalon to you?”

  Beau snorted. “Not even close.” He glanced back over his notes. “But, Addy, that doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I agree, it’s not logical. Unless . . .”

  “Unless what?”

  Her gaze darted between Beau and her father. “Okay, this is going to sound crazy, I know.”

  “Go ahead, honey.” Vincent leaned back in the kitchen chair and considered his daughter intently. “Give me your theory, no matter how outlandish.”

  She let out a puff of air. “Okay. What if Claude was in on the robbery?”

  She couldn’t be serious. “Addy—”

  “No, hear her out.” Vincent nodded at her. “Go on.”

  She took another drink of her root beer. “Think about it. He arranged to have the princess come. He knew when she arrived and where the tiara would be kept.”

  “Yes, but he couldn’t be sure she’d bring the tiara. After all, if she had asked permission, she would have been denied.”

  “What better way to get her to bring the tiara at any risk than to tell her she’d be queen of his Mardi Gras krewe and get to ride on a float in a real parade?”

  All of that was true, of course, but still . . . “Are you saying he’s a hacker?” That was a reach at best.

  She shook her head. “Of course not, but he could have hired someone. He could have given someone access and set up the whole hack as a distraction.”

  Zach had said someone most likely had to have physical access to the server to set up the hack.

  “I’m not saying Claude went into the vault himself, but I can see him hiring someone to do it.”

  Pampalon was just the type to hire someone to do his dirty work. “But there would be a money trail. He’d have to pay the hacker, and the actual thief.”

  She nodded. “Fifty thousand cash is a hefty sum for one, and whatever was in the black pouch could have been payment for the other.”

  Ahh . . . now he saw where it all came together. Possibly.

  What Addy suggested wasn’t as farfetched as he’d initially concluded. But the implications were horrific. “That’s an awful lot for a man to orchestrate just to get some jewels.” He held up his hand when she opened her mouth. “Yes, I know about the possibility that Princess Katerina’s tiara is part of the Romanov family jewels. I realize that would make it invaluable, but that would also make it impossible to sell without fear of being caught.” Even for Pampalon, that was a huge risk.

  “Unless they remove the jewels and sell them off in pieces.” Vincent’s low voice turned both Beau’s and Addy’s head. “When I was researching for one of my books, I spoke with a gemologist who told me that often in the black market, if there is a hot piece that the thief can’t move, they’ll pull the jewels out and sell them in pieces. Then later, sometimes years and years later, once the investigation dies down, the thief will collect and put the original jewels back in the original setting to sell to a private collector.” Vincent shrugged. “Or, as in my book, after the insurance company paid the claim and enough time had lapsed, the owner was able to reconstruct her necklace and wear it. The ultimate version of having your cake and eating it too.”

  Beau nodded slowly and looked at his notes. It was possible. Plausible. Could even be likely. He didn’t like Pampalon even a little bit, but he didn’t consider the man to be a murderer either. Then again, maybe that hadn’t been part of an original plan.

  He stood and pocketed his notebook. He needed to look over the evidence again. Maybe pull some info on what Mr. Pampalon had been doing in the days leading up to the robbery. “I appreciate you telling me this, Addy. I’ll look over the evidence to see if your theory will fit.”

  “I’m not saying I know Claude did anything wrong because I don’t.” Addy stood and pushed the chair under the kitchen table. “I’m just saying that there was a black velvet pouch with something in it inside the safe’s drawer when the tiara was taken.”

  “Okay.” He clapped Vincent’s shoulder. “Thank you for dinner.

  As always, I’ve enjoyed our visit.”

  “Anytime, Beau. You know that.”

  “I do.” He did, too, and the sincerity warmed him.

  Addy smiled at him. “May I walk you out?” Her voice seemed softer, lower, as if she were unsure of herself with him, which was silly.

  “Of course.” He gave Vincent a final pat on his shoulder and opened the kitchen door, letting Addy precede him around the porch. She clearly had something on her mind that she wanted to tell him but didn’t want to discuss in front of her father. Since she’d had no qualms about discussing Claude and the robbery in front of him, what else could it be?

  Nerves filled him as he followed her into the darkness. She always found a way to keep him off balance.

  Addy

  What was she doing? She’d lost her mind, that’s what was happening.

  Addy hugged herself, wishing her father’s driveway would just open up and swallow her whole.

  “Are you cold?” Beau moved beside her. Close enough that she could smell his spicy cologne.

  Oh, mercy. “No. No. I’m fine.” She was insane. Why had she ever listened to Tracey? This was crazy. Just the idea of telling Beau she was interested in him . . . It was asinine. She couldn’t be that bold. Not like Tracey.

  “Are you okay, sha?”

  Oh, merciful heavens, her hormones must be in overdrive or something, because the softness of his voice nearly made her swoon. Dadnap Tracey!

  “Addy?”

  Heart racing. Pulse pounding. Knees literally shaking. She turned and faced Beau.

  Sweet, kind Beau. The boy who had always been there for her when her mother was drunk and embarrassing. He’d never let any of the other kids tease her about her mother’s drunkenness and let them get away without a busted nose or black eye.

  The teen who’d taken up for her when her first boyfriend cheated on her and broke her heart. Beau had listened to her rant at the unfairness, let her cry on his shoulder, then gone and beat the snot out of Rusty Pitts. Broken one of his ribs and everything.

  Loyal and honest Beau. The man who had loved his own mother to distraction and done everything he ever could for her. A perfect son. The man who had done so much for Addy’s father, filling in the shoes of a son Vincent had never had.

  Beautiful Beau with the expressive eyes that could undo Addy’s anger with just a glance. His smile that warmed her all the way to her toes. His arms that made her feel safe and protected when he danced with her. Walked with her. Held her.

  Kissed her.

  “Addy?” Those eyes of his locked on hers, and for a moment— that single, time-standing-still moment under the February full moon—she felt at home.

  “I like you.”

  Beau chuckled. “Is that a surprise?”

  Her heartbeat echoed in her head, deafening. Words wouldn’t form as she stared at him.

  “Oh.” He stared at her and stopped laughing. “Oh.” Her inability to speak cemented her to the spot.

  “I like you too.” He took a step toward her.

  She put her hand on his chest. His heart thumped against her palm. She had to be honest. Had to play fair. “But there’s also Dimitri.”

  He fro
ze. The moonlight reflected the pain in his eyes. “I see.”

  “I don’t know what I’m supposed to tell you right now.” She really just wanted to curl up in bed and pull the covers over her head. Or vomit.

  “What am I supposed to say to that, Addy?”

  “I don’t know. I just . . .” She was going to slap Tracey across the face or punch her in the gut the next time she saw her for putting these crazy ideas in her head. “It’s very awkward, and I know I’ve been putting you both off for a year, but going to Europe allowed me to really analyze my past and move past the hurt and fear of a relationship, and I did that, or at least I’m pretty sure I did, and I want to have a full life complete with someone to love me and someone for me to love, but I don’t know how to make that decision, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do or feel or even think, but I know that it’s all so crazy, and it’s driving me nuts and—” She ran out of breath and gulped in air, staring at the ground.

  Beau’s soft chuckle jerked her head up.

  “Addy Fountaine, are you trying to tell me that if I asked you on a date, you’d agree to go with me?”

  Relief filled every muscle in her body, and she thought she might collapse. “Yes. Yes, I think I am.”

  “Then how about we go out to dinner on Saturday night? Does that sound good?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “Then I’ll pick you up at six, okay?”

  The parade for Claude’s krewe was scheduled for noon. Six would be plenty of time to handle everything after the conclusion and still have time to get ready. She nodded again, not trusting herself to speak.

  Without warning, Beau moved and had her in his arms, hugging her. He kissed the side of her neck with the gentleness of the evening breeze, then released her. “I’ll see you Saturday if I don’t talk to you before.”

  Addy nodded like a silly schoolgirl before turning back toward her father’s house. It was all she could do not to skip all the way back inside. She did manage to resist the urge to turn and wave as she heard Beau start his car and back out of the gravel driveway onto the street.