Target (19 page)

“I don't see how it could help,” Delia said. “There aren't any clues. Let's not go there now.”

She was threatened, and frightened.

“Hey,” Nick said, furious with himself for being so damn clumsy. “This is important for all of us. I'm looking for a way to protect the family.”

“I've always protected us,” Delia said. “It's my job.”

“For God's sake,” Nick said. “The three of us have been adults for a long time. It's our turn to look after you.”

“Don't you raise your voice to me,” Delia said. “I'm not a doddering old fool and I don't need to be looked after. People who have worked with me for years would be amazed by that suggestion.”

Aurelie couldn't stand watching this. “Delia, we love you. You gave up so much for us.”

“No, I didn't,” Delia snapped. “Everything I did was selfish. I did it for myself because I wanted you and I'm going to keep on doing it, so you can all settle down. I've already taken the necessary steps to ensure that creature doesn't get near any of you again. I was going to speak with you about it today and I will. I still have a few details to clear up. It's going to be necessary for all of you to move into this house for the present.”

Nick slumped in his chair, rested his head against the back and closed his eyes.

“Before everything explodes,” Aurelie said. “And that's going to happen real soon. But before it does, I've got to tell you something. Delia, you're the only mother Sarah and I have ever known. We wouldn't choose another one, either, so we think we're blessed that you took us in.”

Delia turned to her. “You never told me that before.” Moisture welled along her lashes.

“Sarah and I try not to think about the past.” She glanced at Nick. “Before we were with Mary, I mean. I doubt if we ever will—that's probably why we've never mentioned not having a mother.”

Nick had raised his head. “Everyone has a mother, Rellie.”

“Everyone is born,” she said with a faint smile. “Let's leave it at that. I just want you to know how much you mean to me, Delia.”

Delia patted her mouth with trembling fingertips and Aurelie popped up to plant a quick kiss on her forehead.

“I'd like to read the letter Mom sent to you,” Nick said.

His attitude annoyed Aurelie. Just because he was uncomfortable witnessing emotion shouldn't mean he had to sound angry.

“As you've said, the letter was to me.” Delia pulled a silk cushion from behind her back and put it on her lap. She pulled at crushed tassels.

“If you don't want to actually let me see it, tell me what's in it.”

“I got it a long time ago,” Delia said. “I don't remember.”

Now Nick was convinced he had to pursue this with her. He couldn't imagine what, but she was hiding something.

“You're a busy woman,” he said. “I don't expect you to remember every word of a letter from sixteen years ago, but apart from asking if you could look after us, was there anything that could be helpful to us now? Did she talk about Colin? Maybe he'd discussed some plans for the future as if she'd be sharing them with him, or…What about the bag that's got sand in it now? What was in it before? Did she say?”

Delia got up, sending the pillow sliding over the marble floor. “I don't remember, I tell you. Please don't talk about it anymore. If I decide I want to, I'll let you know.”

Nick stood, as well. He hadn't known what to expect but this exact scenario hadn't even entered his mind. “You're hiding something. What? Please, don't do this if there's something that could make a difference, a good difference.”

“It couldn't,” she said, backing away, bumping into a chair.

“Stop it, Nick,” Aurelie said, on her feet and going to Delia. “If Delia had information that would help us, we'd already have it.”

He'd like to believe that, Nick thought. Delia's behavior in the past few minutes made it unlikely in his mind, but some of Aurelie's instincts were right. He had been forceful enough, for now, and needed to ease off. “I'm sorry,” he said. “Forgive me. I'm frustrated.”

She didn't answer.

“Forget what I said about the letter. If you ever feel like sharing it, you will.”

“I want the three of you back in this house by tonight,” Delia said, her voice small.

“Did you come up with that idea all on your own?” Nick asked.

The cautious look Delia gave him answered his question.

“You didn't, did you?”

“I can't take any risks with your safety, don't you understand that?” Delia asked. She had stopped moving away. “Whatever I'm doing, I've thought through.”

“Including going to Finn Duhon and asking him to help you find professional protection?”

Aurelie caught at Nick's arm. “What are you talking about? You sound wild. What about Finn Duhon?”

“I like Finn,” Delia said. “I knew him when his father Tom was still chief of police here. And I was glad when he came back to Pointe Judah to live again. He and Emma are a real asset to the town.”

Nick could see that Aurelie wanted more explanations. “Finn is a former Ranger with a reputation as a tough man,” he said. “A hero.”

“He owns Oakdale,” Aurelie said. “I know who he is. He's great. Did you forget Emma owns Poke Around? I see her when she comes in to the store, and Finn shows up occasionally. What do they have to do with anything?”

“Delia decided Finn's the one to make sure we keep on breathing. And bring Colin to justice, I guess—or kill him and put us all out of our misery.”

“Did Finn contact you?” Delia asked Nick. “Did he call and tell you that I'm asking him to help? Why would he do that?”

“Yes, he did. For two reasons,” Nick said. “The request sounds damned odd and he wanted to be sure you were okay, not under excessive strain or anything. After that he didn't have any choice but to explain—at least as much as he's got anyway. Why didn't you come to me first? How do you think I feel that you consider another man more capable of looking after you than I am?”

“For the second time,” Delia said, “I don't need anyone to look after me.”

“Stop it,” Aurelie said, planting her hands on her hips. “What we need is to take care of ourselves, all of us. I don't blame you for hating the idea of someone you know, a peer, being asked to babysit you,” she told Nick. “But can we calm down? We won't get anything done this way.”

Nick smiled. Aurelie had that effect on him, especially when she showed her take-charge side. “Yes,” he said. “You're right. Sorry, Delia.”

“I've made a lot of mistakes,” she said quietly. “Lots of them. But mostly because I wanted the best for everyone.”

Aurelie created her own diversion by going after the cushion that fell when Delia had stood up. Right here, between the three of them, something was cracking apart. Aurelie wanted to head the whole thing off if it couldn't be fixed afterward.

“You deserve an apology from me,” Delia said. “More than one, but one will do. Where's Sarah?”

“At her place,” Aurelie said.

Delia picked up a phone from a nearby table and dialed. She didn't wait long before she said, “Good morning, Sarah. Please meet me in my rooms…Now. Nick and Aurelie are already here.” She gazed into the distance, flinching once before she said, “You can't hide from what's going on. You can't stay in bed and hope a killer dies of a hangnail by the time you get up. We'll see you in a few minutes.”

 

This was no hot-chocolate-and-cookies invitation to Delia's pink, green and lavender boudoir, the room which, like her bedroom, she had kept as it was in the late 1800s when a Mrs. Lafource, wife of Colonel Lafource, actually lived in the house and these had been her rooms. Today's visit to Delia's faithfully refurbished lair felt like a court appearance with a lot of doubt about who the accused might be.

Delia stood beside an empty, white bamboo birdcage where her beloved parakeet, Yuri, lived when he wasn't taking long baths in his mistress's claw-foot tub. Aurelie could hear voices coming from the bathroom, one was Yuri's delivered with a heavy Russian accent (the bird had been a gift to Delia from an admiring Russian playboy who'd trained him to talk), and the second voice, Sabine's, her rich tones punctuated with laughter.

“Yuri is taking a bath,” Delia said as if this was news. She waved a hand toward the bathroom. “He needs lots of attention, lots of games. Sit down. Sarah shouldn't be long.” She turned away and raised a lace drape from a window set into an alcove.

White silk draperies tinted a shell-pink looped above the curved top of the window and fell on either side to settle in soft heaps on pale green carpet. The same fabric, supported by gilded cherubs, formed soft puffs over a mahogany daybed.

Aurelie never quite got used to the opulence in these rooms but she did understand why Delia had wanted to preserve a little piece of history. “Did Sarah say she was coming right over?” If she had, she should have arrived.

“More or less.”

Aurelie looked at Nick, who had also remained standing. “I hope she gets here soon,” he said. “I've got meetings all day. So do both of you—or at least you've got things to do other than wait around for Sarah.”

“I hear my name,” Sarah said, walking in and going directly to the daybed, where she flopped down on lavender velvet pillows and hauled up her feet, without removing her sandals. “Okay, Delia, here I am. What's so important?”

Nick strolled to the daybed, pulled off Sarah's sandals and deposited them on the floor.

“Thanks,” she said with a sweet smile.

He nodded and his attention wandered back to Aurelie—again. She wore a deep green sundress that fitted snugly over her breasts and showed off a small waist. The full skirt swirled around her knees when she walked. Her black hair was pulled back again, which he didn't like, but plenty of curls had already wiggled free.

“Why are you staring at Aurelie, Nick?” Sarah said, jarring him. She rushed on and when she bent her head back, Aurelie knew she was watching their old trick to hide tears. Sarah looked at them again. “You two have turned into the Bobbsey Twins. ‘Wherever you go, I go.' Isn't that the way the song goes?”

No one answered.

Sarah pointed. “You look guilty, Rellie. Is this meeting about you? What have you done—apart from getting your face messed up?”

Aurelie said, “No, it's not about me,” and picked up a book on New Orleans's monuments. She didn't want Sarah to see her blush. Sarah wasn't mean, she didn't say cruel things the way she just had.

“The only one who
did
anything is me,” Delia said. She opened a door on a tall cabinet, revealing small drawers inside. “I made a mistake because I didn't think before I acted on something I'll regret forever.”

Sarah frowned. She folded her arms across her middle, bare between a black cotton blouse with the tails tied up and a pair of low-slung denim cutoffs.

“Yesterday I wrote down everything I could remember. I shouldn't have had to.” Delia pulled out a drawer and took out an unfolded sheet of paper. This she carried with her to a spot by the window.

“Colin Fox started The Refuge and seemed to care about people in need. Mary already had you, Nick, when she met Colin. On Haight Street. You were three and she was making her way as best she could. In San Francisco, as you know. Colin must have fallen for Mary—no surprise there—and the three of you went on together.”

He hadn't known he was three before his mother got involved with Colin.

Yuri shouted something Aurelie didn't understand and she heard the bathroom door open. Sabine, smiling and holding the purple-headed bird in both hands, came into the boudoir. She stopped when she saw all of them.

“I'll pop this boy in his house and go make coffee,” she said.

“No coffee for me, thanks,” Aurelie said.

“Not for any of us now, thank you, Sabine,” Delia said.

Sabine looked briefly at each of their faces and her smile faded. “Okay, Mr. Yuri, playtime is over for you.” She approached the cage and Nick opened it for her. In went Yuri and Nick closed the cage.

“It's none of my business,” Sabine started, “but—”

“Don't worry about us,” Delia said. “This is just a family summit. Everything's fine.”

“Summit, hmm?” Sabine said. “From what I know, those are when a whole lot of talkin'goes on and nothin'gets done.”

Sarah laughed, too loudly and too long. They were all nervous, Aurelie realized and wished she could comfort her sister. She was hurting. She had begun to piece together, or at least to suspect, that there was more than simple friendship between Aurelie and Nick.

Yuri squawked and opened his beak to make a clicking sound. Then he said, clearly, and with strongly Russian overtones, “Come to your sexy
Psittacula cyanocephala
” over and over until Delia threw a velvet cloth over his cage.