Название | Behind the Mask |
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Автор произведения | Joanna Wayne |
Жанр | Зарубежные детективы |
Серия | |
Издательство | Зарубежные детективы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn |
She grimaced. Fate had been unbelievably cruel the past few days. It had ruined her visit with Grace Ann, Brigit and the rest of her high school friends with a senseless crime. And as if that weren’t enough, it had struck the crowning blow, reuniting her with the one man she had hoped never to see again.
Everything had ended between them long ago. He’d told her that if she left him to go away to college, he’d be out of her life forever. She’d thought he was only bluffing. She should have known better. His threats had never been idle. Three months later, he’d forgotten her so completely he married someone else.
She shook her head to clear it and slipped the key into the Mercedes’ lock. It went in easily, but the key wouldn’t turn. Lindsey fiddled with it, slipping the key in and out several times before she finally got the door unlocked. So much for her friend’s fancy car. Even Lindsey’s old Toyota opened without a problem.
What a weekend. Now she even missed her car, she mused, sliding into the driver’s seat. She checked the rearview mirror and then maneuvered her way into the sparse Sunday-afternoon traffic. In a few short hours, she’d be home again. Then she could begin to put this bizarre weekend behind her.
Not that she’d ever forget it. Not that she wanted to until the killer was in custody, locked away so that he couldn’t kill again. That might take a long time without a description of him, identifying details she should have been able to provide. She had watched the whole thing, and she was letting everybody down, especially a young blond woman who should have had her whole life in front of her.
Lindsey glanced at her watch and then pulled over into the left-turn lane. She’d be cutting it close, but she had to drive by the LeBlanc house one more time. It was a long shot, but returning to the scene of the crime just might trigger some memory that would lead to a positive identification of the killer.
A warning nagged at the back of her mind. She’d promised Graham she’d butt out and let him handle things. But this wasn’t breaking her promise, she assured the nag. She was just going to drive by for one last look before she left town.
Lindsey eased her foot from the accelerator as she neared the house. She didn’t have the address, but she had no trouble locating it this time. She drove by slowly. There were lights in at least one window.
That was odd. The LeBlancs were supposedly out of town, and surely Ruby wouldn’t be working at six o’clock on a Sunday evening. Lindsey pulled around the corner and parked. It wouldn’t hurt to take a look. She could take a brisk walk by the house and still make it to the airport in time.
She dropped her keys into her pocket and scooted out of the car, stepping over the roots of an ancient oak. The house was about half a block away, enough distance to give her time to study it as she approached.
There were lights on the first floor, in one of the rooms facing the street. The second floor was bathed in total darkness, and so was the turret that topped the house like a crown. Lindsey stopped at the edge of the property and bent over as if tying a loose shoelace. She lingered as long as she could, but there was nothing to see but the impressive architecture of a St. Charles mansion.
She walked slowly past the house, trying not to be too obvious in her spying. There was a car parked in the drive, old and sporting a front end that had weathered a few New Orleans fender benders. It might belong to Miss Ruby, but it hadn’t been there yesterday.
A car door slammed somewhere behind her, and her heart crashed against her ribs. She turned and watched a family of four climb from a van and enter a house down the street. She took a deep breath, forcing air into her lungs. The murder had left her jumping at shadows.
By the time her gaze had returned to the LeBlanc house, a male figure was walking out the front door, his silhouette framed in the soft glow of streetlights. Lindsey slipped behind one of the oaks that lined the avenue. The man couldn’t see her here. Unfortunately, she couldn’t see much, either.
Angry voices carried across the manicured lawn, and Lindsey strained to hear them above the traffic noises. Eavesdropping was not her style, but the volume wasn’t making it much of a challenge.
“You lied to me again. I told you about that. I can’t trust you anymore!”
The voice was Miss Ruby’s. Lindsey scooted around the tree trunk until she had a partial view of the action. Growing darkness masked their features, but there was still enough light to make out their shapes and movements. The young man with the housekeeper looked to be in his mid-twenties, overweight, and with scraggly hair that hung to his shoulders. So much for honest Ruby’s vow about never inviting anyone to the house. Or maybe she hadn’t invited him.
“I told you I’m sorry. I took the key one time. That was all. I just wanted to show the place to someone.”
“Don’t lie to me.” Her voice became a whine. “You were with that girl you’ve been hanging out with. She’s nothing but scum. She and all her friends. I told you to stay away from them, but you just won’t listen, will you?”
“They’re not scum. They’re my friends. But you won’t have to worry about Roxy anymore.”
“Like I believe that, any more than I believe the rest of your lies. You move into your own place and take up with riffraff. Just like Jerome. You forget your raising and take up with worthless scum. You’re breaking my heart, and you don’t even care.”
Lindsey stretched to her full height and peered over an overhanging branch. Miss Ruby followed the boy down the walk, her shrill voice whistling through the twilight air.
“Friends, humph! They’re just using you. That’s all. You better wake up before they get you in a lot of trouble. And I might not be able to help you this time. Mr. LeBlanc doesn’t like getting involved with the law, and I promised him you’d keep clean.”
“I am clean, Mama. I told you. I didn’t take nothing. Just the lousy old key, and you got it back, didn’t you?”
Mama. So Miss Ruby had a son, one who had taken a key. She’d have to tell Graham about this. He couldn’t be mad at her for coming here once she gave him some helpful information. Not that it mattered if he was mad or not. She was a private citizen with a perfect right to stop on a public street.
“Sure, I got the key back. But I don’t want you lying to me. I don’t want you ending up like Jerome.” Now she was all but pleading.
“No, Mama. I won’t. I promise.”
“And I hope you mean it. I sure hope you mean it. Now why don’t you come in and get a bite of supper? I’ve been cooking all day, getting ready for Miss Katie. She’ll be coming in tomorrow, and soon as she does, she’ll be filling the house with company. That woman thinks about nothing but having a good time. Not like the late Mrs. LeBlanc. God rest her soul. Now that was a lady.”
“You save your cooking for Miss Katie, Mama. I’m not hungry.”
“Of course you are. I made pecan pie. You know that’s your favorite.”
Shoulders down, the boy turned and headed back up the stairs, following meekly behind his overbearing mom.
Lindsey started back toward her car, but a strong hand grabbed her shoulder and swung her around.
“Did you miss your plane?”
“Graham, you frightened me! I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I could say the same for you. There’s a little difference, though. I’m a detective. I’m supposed to be here. And if I remember correctly, we made a bargain.” His fingers dug into her flesh.
She pulled away. “I’ve kept my part of the bargain, although it was a stupid agreement to begin with. I was just driving by, and I wanted