W
hen Charlotte entered Loving Care Day-Care, there were only a few children in the large playroom, and those that were there were seated around a television set watching Barney. The only adult in the room was a young woman who looked to be an older teenager.
“May I help you?” she asked.
Charlotte nodded and smiled. “I’m here to pick up Davy Martinez.”
“He’s probably with the others out back on the playground,” the girl offered. “Just go that way.” She motioned toward a door.
The door opened to a short hallway, which led to another door. The moment Charlotte stepped outside she was greeted by sheer bedlam. The playground was a small area enclosed by a chain-linked fence that appeared to be about six feet tall. Noisy children of all shapes and sizes squealed and laughed as they clamored for turns on the various jungle gym equipment and the riding toys.
It took Charlotte a few minutes to locate Davy, but she finally spotted him sitting alone in a sandbox in a comer of the play area near the back fence.
As she made her way through the children, she noticed that although Davy was surrounded by plastic buckets, shovels, miniature dump trucks and draglines, he wasn’t playing with any of the toys. Instead, he was staring through the fence toward the narrow alley that ran alongside the playground.
“Davy!” Charlotte called out. “Time to go.”
When Davy turned his head toward her and frowned, Charlotte tried telling herself that he was probably just disappointed that his mother wasn’t the one who had come to get him, and his disappointment had nothing to do with her personally. At least she hoped that was the case.
Charlotte knelt down beside the little boy and smiled at him. “Hey, buddy, you ready to go?”
“Where’s Daddy?”
“Ah... he’s still busy, trying to help the police,” she told him, unable to think of anything else at the moment. There was simply no other way that she could think of to explain about Daniel being in jail. “But he’ll be home real soon,” she hastened to add and prayed it was true. “Until then, though, he wants you to stay with me. Remember? Me and Sweety Boy,” she said, hoping to distract him.
He stared at her for what seemed like forever, then he finally nodded.
“Good. Let’s go.” Taking Davy firmly by the hand, she led him back through the maze of children to inside the house, where she signed him out. Though he went with her without protest, the solemn expression on his little face worried her. Any minute she expected him to burst into tears. Only when she’d settled him in the van did he finally speak again. She breathed a sigh of relief as he began chattering away, telling her all about how some kid named Tommy had bit another kid and left a big boo-boo on his arm.
During the drive home, Charlotte made noises to reassure Davy she was listening to him, but she was only half listening. Her thoughts kept swirling around Lowell Webster and the possibility that he’d either murdered Ricco himself to cover for his son Mark or he’d had him murdered.
But even if she found a way to meet Lowell, to be around him, what then? What purpose would it serve? It wasn’t as if she could just come right out and ask the man if all the gossip she’d heard about him from Nadia and Patsy was true. And she certainly couldn’t ask him outright if he’d murdered Ricco Martinez. Even if there was a way of asking him, he’d be a fool to admit to any of it, given his present political ambitions.
The more Charlotte thought about it, the more frustrated she grew. Davy was still chattering away when she pulled into the driveway. As she switched off the engine, out of nowhere a possible solution to her dilemma dawned on her, a way to spy on Lowell without him even knowing who she was or that she was spying. And she knew just the person who could help her out.
When Charlotte and Davy entered the house, Sweety Boy began his usual chatter and squawking, vying for attention.
“Play with Weety, Aunt Chardy? Me play with Weety?”
Charlotte set her purse down. “Tell you what,” she said as she slipped out of her shoes and pulled on her moccasins. “Aunt Charley needs to make a few phone calls first. If you’ll be a good boy and watch TV for a little while, then I promise I’ll let Sweety out of his cage. And if you’re very, very good, I might even let you pet him.”
Davy grinned from ear to ear and thumped himself on his chest with his fist. “I be good.”
“I know you will. You’re a good boy,” Charlotte told him as she turned on the television and settled Davy in front of his favorite afternoon show.
Satisfied that he’d be content for a little while, she headed for the phone. But as she drew near the desk, her footsteps slowed, and she began to have qualms about the solution she’d come up with and about contacting her old friend Carrie Rogers.
Involving Professor Mac and Jane Calhoun was one thing. At least they knew Daniel and had sympathy for his situation. But what she was contemplating doing now was a different matter. Carrie didn’t know Daniel, and she didn’t know about his predicament. Even so, if anyone had an “in” with whoever cleaned Lowell’s offices, Carrie would.
Still Charlotte hesitated. First gossiping, and now lying and subterfuge as well. Just how far was she willing to go, and where would it all end?
Charlotte glanced over at Davy, but in her mind’s eye she was seeing Daniel holding Davy with one arm, his other arm wrapped around Nadia, all three of them standing at the foot of her table on Easter Sunday as Daniel announced that they were now a family.
The truth. It will end with the truth.
Ruthlessly tamping down her feelings of guilt, she turned her attention to the phone. Beside the phone, the light on her message machine was blinking. At first she tried to ignore it.
Just do it. Make the call before you lose your nerve.
But the blinking light beckoned, and she hesitated. What if the call was news about Daniel or Nadia? Or it could be business.
If you had Caller I.D., you wouldn’t have to wonder who had called
. She had considered having Caller I.D. service installed, but since she already had the answering machine, she’d never been able to justify the added expense—until now. Maybe it was time to reconsider.
“Probably just one of those stupid telemarketing calls,” she muttered. But there was only one way to find out. With an exasperated sigh, she tapped the MESSAGE button of the answering machine.
“Hi, Charlotte, it’s me.”
Madeline.
“Sorry I wasn’t here when you called Sunday.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right,” she muttered.
“And I appreciate you keeping Davy,” Madeline continued. “I—I just couldn’t handle everything at the time. I’ve been so upset and worried about Daniel, I can hardly think straight Anyway, I thought you might like to know that I was able to see Daniel today. It—it wasn’t easy seeing him there ... in that—that place.” Her voice choked up, and it was a moment before she continued her message.
“Oh, Charlotte, what are we going to do? Daniel says everything will work out, but what if it doesn’t? What if—” She choked up again. Then, after a brief pause, she continued, her voice almost a whisper. “Daniel told me about Nadia—about her being pregnant. He also told me he was worried about her and Davy.” Madeline stopped to clear her throat. “In fact,” she said, “that’s one of the reasons I called. I can help out with Davy ... if you need me to.” She paused as if waiting for an answer, then said, “Well, just let me know. Call me, okay?”
The machine beeped, signaling the end of the message. With mixed emotions churning inside, Charlotte glanced over to where Davy sat entranced with the TV actions of Barney, the big purple dinosaur.
Charlotte wanted to believe Madeline was sincere, wanted to believe the best about her sister with all of her heart. But how could she? From the beginning, Madeline had made it crystal clear how she felt about Nadia and Davy.
More than likely, the reason she was changing her tune had more to do with Daniel shaming her into making the offer to help. Either that, or Daniel had laid it on the line to his mother: my way or the highway type of stuff. It was a sure bet that Madeline’s offer wasn’t out of the goodness of her heart. Madeline thought only about her own welfare, and in Charlotte’s experience a leopard didn’t change its spots, at least not overnight.
Charlotte worried her bottom lip with her teeth. She could take Davy to Madeline. Doing so would certainly make her own life less complicated. But how would yet another upheaval in his young life affect the little guy, especially since he seemed to have finally adjusted to staying with her?
On the other hand, maybe she was letting past experiences with her sister prejudice her judgment. Maybe, just maybe, once Madeline was around Davy and saw what a darling little boy he was, she might have a change of heart.
And maybe pigs can fly.
Tormented by conflicting emotions, Charlotte closed her eyes and shook her head.
When in doubt about what to do, do nothing.
Charlotte wasn’t sure where she’d heard the adage or if she’d read it somewhere or whether she’d simply made it up herself, but regardless, she decided that it was good advice.
Besides, if she could somehow prove that Nadia and Daniel had nothing to do with Ricco’s murder, then she wouldn’t have to make a decision at all. “The sooner this mess gets straightened out,” she murmured, “the sooner everything can get back to normal.”
Lowell Webster
. Charlotte couldn’t help feeling that he was the key.
And if he isn’t?
Ignoring the pesky little voice inside her head, she reached for the Rolodex. Once she’d located the card she was searching for, she tapped out the phone number listed on the card.
A woman answered the call on the third ring. “Big Easy Janitorial Services,” she said. “Keeping it clean is our business.”
“Hi, this is Charlotte LaRue. Is Carrie Rogers in?”
“Oh, hi, Ms. LaRue. If you’ll hold a second, I’ll check.”
The line clicked, and as Charlotte was treated to an ear-full of Dixieland music, she thought about Carrie.
They had met years ago. Like Charlotte, Carrie had also built up a thriving cleaning service, but Carrie had favored commercial services as opposed to Charlotte’s preference for domestic services. And Carrie had done extremely well. Her business had grown to the point where she had contracts for some of the largest office buildings in the New Orleans CBD area.
Through a mutual friend, Carrie had heard about Charlotte, and she’d tried to persuade Charlotte to work for her as one of her top managers.
At the time Charlotte had been tempted to take Carrie up on her generous offer, but the thought of being confined behind a desk all day had held little appeal, despite the generous benefits of the job. Besides, she truly loved the old homes she cleaned, loved the personal, hands-on aspect of her work. In the end she’d decided that she’d be much happier working for herself.
Abruptly, the music stopped and a booming voice cried out, “And just what, pray tell, do I owe the honor of a call from you for? Don’t tell me you’ve finally changed your mind about working for me.”
Charlotte laughed. “And be filthy rich like you? No way. Why, I wouldn’t know what to do with all the money I’d make.”
Carrie snickered. “Yeah, right! So, what’s up, Charlotte?”
Charlotte sobered quickly and swallowed hard. “I need some information, Carrie, and I figured if anyone can tell me what I need to know, you can.” Before she could chicken out, she rushed ahead. “The no-questions-asked kind of information,” she explained. “And you have to promise that you won’t tell anyone about this conversation.”
“No-questions-asked, huh? Sounds intriguing. You haven’t, by chance, found another dead body, have you?”
Charlotte cringed at the reminder of the horrible experience she’d had at the Deviliere house just a few months earlier. “Not exactly. Like I said, no questions asked.”
“Well, phooey, that’s no fun.”
“Came!”
“Hey, just kidding, Charlotte. To tell the truth, it gives me the willies just thinking about
anyone
finding a dead body.”
“Me too,” Charlotte agreed.
“Okay, so just what is it that you need to know?”
“Will you promise not to tell anyone that we talked or why?”
“Sounds serious.”
“It is,” Charlotte confirmed.
“Okay, okay, you’ve got my promise.”
“Well ... I was wondering if you might just happen to clean the offices of A to Z Import-Export?”
Carrie whistled through her teeth. “Oh, wow, you’re talking Lowell Webster, aren’t you? Don’t I wish I had that contract, but, no, unfortunately for me, I don’t clean his offices.”
“Do you know who does?”
“Why sure. Zachary Carter has that contract, darn his hide. You remember Zack, don’t you?” Without waiting for an answer, Carrie continued. “We both bid on it, you know, but Zack had someone on the inside, and he won the bid.”