Jenna Ryan - Eden's Shadow

Ty chuckled and moved on. Eden headed for the stairwell.

Lucille’s preference ran to freeze-dried palms, rattan furniture and dim lighting. Blues music drifted out of the private rooms, and the air did in fact smell like raspberries.

Because she’d done her first filling at seven-thirty that morning, Eden’s head felt as fuzzy as the lights. She’d crossed, she reflected, into that weird realm between consciousness and sleep.

The wall beside her was lined with oil paintings, most of them abstract, and every one as dark and mysterious as Armand LaMorte.

“Hell.” With a sigh, Eden started up.

“Hell, is it? And I thought you liked my place.”

Her heart lurched. Pushing a fist into her ribs, Eden breathed out and turned. “I don’t need a coronary to make this night a bust, Lucille. Don’t you creak when you walk?”

Lucille, a tall, fine-boned woman with straight, dark hair, a thick fringe of bangs and bloodred fingernails, gave Eden’s cheek a pat. “You were creaking enough for both of us, love. What are you doing here so late?”

Eden relaxed. “Lisa wants to talk to you.”

“I heard the story.”

“The whole thing?”

“Most of it. There was a police officer here tonight, an old friend. We chatted. He left twenty minutes ago.”

For some reason, Armand’s face flashed in Eden’s head. She pushed it out and asked, “Is this cop a regular friend?”

“Yes, but I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t use that word around Mary. Since my potpourri now contains a hint of poison, I’ll assume she’s upstairs with Lisa.”

Humor crept into Eden’s tone. “Wanna run?”

“It’s tempting.” Lucille plastered on a smile. “I’ll settle for letting you lead the way—in case she’s conned Lisa into buying her a gun.”

Gun, cop, Armand LaMorte. The circle drew her in, as did all the problems Eden saw looming before her. Why couldn’t Mary look like Lisa instead of her?

Barbs flew the moment they entered Lucille’s office. Eden ignored them and drank in the atmosphere to distract herself.

The decor was Haitian with an abundance of ebony wood. Eden zeroed in on the sofa and dropped onto it. Five minutes passed before it occurred to her that Lisa had vanished.

“She made a beeline for the lower balcony.” Mary gestured at a large outer terrace. “Digging helps her deal. She told me to fill Lucille in. Now that’s done, where’s the key to the liquor cabinet?”

Lucille’s brows elevated. “You don’t seem concerned about Lisa’s state of mind, Mary. Since when can’t she speak for herself?”

“She asked, I complied. Who am I to psychoanalyze her? She’s dealing, okay?”

“By digging in my club garden at 2:00 a.m.?”

“Digging’s what she does.” Annoyed, Mary paced. “Why am I talking, Eden, and you’re not?”

“I’m too tired to talk.” She wasn’t even sure she could open her eyes now that she’d closed them. “I see disembodied teeth smiling at me. I think I have an extraction at nine-thirty tomorrow morning.” She forced her eyelids halfway up. “Lucille, why didn’t you tell us about Maxwell?”

“Because he was a dreadful man. Not bad from birth, but he became that way over the years. For you to have known him would have served no purpose.”

Mary prowled the room. “You’d never know she grew up in the bayou, would you, Eden? Bottom line, the guy was a creep.”

“Did Dolores know about him?” Stupid question. Dolores knew everything about everyone in her life.

“She agreed you shouldn’t meet him.”

“But you must have realized Lisa would track him down eventually.”

“I thought Lisa had put that obsession behind her. I had no idea she planned to hire a private investigator to search for him. I wouldn’t have expected her to bother.”

“Well, no, seeing as you lied to us so convincingly.” Mary tugged on the armoire door. “You remember the tale, Lucille. Our natural father sailed off to the South Pacific with a team of scientists and their ship went down, blah, blah, blah.”

Curious now, Eden asked, “What made Lisa look for Maxwell, Mary?”

“Hey, I just found out about the P.I. thing myself. I have no idea what middle sis was thinking or why. Maybe the ship going down sounded hokey to her. It might have to me if I’d cared enough to think about it. I’d say you should ask Lisa, but she’s out of talk mode at the moment. As soon as we came in here, she got that ‘I need to get my hands in dirt’ look in her eyes and took off out the balcony door. Can we go now, Eden?”

“As soon as my muscles reconnect to my brain. Have you spoken to Dolores yet, Lucille?”

“Briefly. She said you didn’t have dinner with her last Sunday. That’s very generous of you. Unwise perhaps, but generous.”

Guilt niggled as Eden recalled her resistance to the police lineup. “It was Mary’s idea.”

“And a selfless one, I’m sure.”

Lucille’s mocking smile brought a scowl to Mary’s lips. “Extraction tomorrow, Eden. Let’s go.” She slid her hip sack over one bare shoulder. “Oh, by the way, Lucille, in case no one’s told you, you look like hell.”

“I’ve been on a diet.” Lucille regarded Eden from her oversized office chair. “Why are you staring at my armoire? Is someone lurking in the shadows?”

“No, only shadows.” And a face Eden couldn’t erase from her mind no matter how hard she tried. She brought her gaze around. “Who might have wanted him dead?”

“A better question would be, who wouldn’t? Anyone he knew could be on the list.”

Eden didn’t buy that. “Few people would resort to murder, Lucille. Nasty phone calls, maybe, but killing’s a drastic last step. The list can’t be long.”

Lucille shrugged. “How long does it need to be? Would there be twenty names on it? Easily. Thirty? I’d say yes. As many as fifty? Possibly. Disgruntled employees have been known to commit horrific crimes. Push the right button and a mind, already badly strained, snaps.”

Eden conceded the point. And yet… “How many disgruntled workers do you figure would look like Lisa and me?”

“Ah, yes.” Lucille sat back. “The witness.”

Mary snorted. “For witness, read real murderer.”

“I’m sure the police have considered the possibility, Mary. At any rate, Eden has rendered his testimony useless, so it’ll be back to basics for now.”

Mary made a sound like a growl. “I’m getting Lisa.”

When she was gone, Eden stood. It was either that or curl up on Lucille’s sofa for the night. “Is Dolores okay about Sunday then? She didn’t sound happy when I called.”

Lucille rose as well. “She’s fine with it, Eden, but I’ll warn you now, she’s on a tear about the family curse.”

Eden tipped her head back to ease the tension in her neck. “Tell her I’ll watch my back.” She glanced at the terrace. “Is Mary shouting at me?”

“Such a loving sister. Eden, wait.” Lucille wrapped a hand around her wrist. “I want you to promise me you’ll let the police handle this.”

“Why?”

“Because I know you. You don’t trust them. You have a stubborn streak, and you love Lisa almost as much as the family you grew up with.”

No, she didn’t. She wanted to, but she didn’t—which was undoubtedly the reason she’d gone along with Mary’s scheme. Guilt was an amazing weapon, as effective as it was destructive.

“Talk to me about this tomorrow, okay?” Eden headed for the terrace door. “My brain’s processing on low right now. I need sleep and time to think.”

She heard Mary outside, ordering Lisa to forget about Lucille’s flowers and worry about what really mattered.

“Don’t let Mary bamboozle you, Eden,” Lucille warned. “Lisa’s freedom is imperative to her, but not for reasons of love. It’s all about money. Mary might not control the bank account, but she controls the next best thing—Lisa herself.”