Every breath Bleu took felt thick and old. The weight on her chest only got heavier. Her first instinct after Madge’s announcement had been to get out of coming to Kate Harper’s, but staying on her own at the rectory was a bad, bad idea.
“It’s nice of you two to come along,” Cyrus said. He tucked a trailing vine of pale pink roses back into an arbor over the gate leading to Kate’s pretty white house.
“I thought Kate would call the rectory again by now,” Madge said. “Don’t you think it’s strange she hasn’t?”
Cyrus closed the wooden gate behind the three of them. “We did speak again today. I called her. She was sad, but restrained—the way you’d expect her to be.”
“Kate’s old world,” Madge said to Bleu. “Proper in a way. I don’t suppose she’s too comfortable letting people see how she feels.”
“Are you sure I should be here?” Bleu asked. “She’s only met me a couple of times.”
“Yes,” Cyrus said. “Jim liked you a lot and he was enthusiastic about the school and the possibility of a senior center. You knew him, and Kate will appreciate it that you can talk about him.”
Bleu smiled at Cyrus and followed along the gravel path.
What she couldn’t ignore was Madge’s agitation. When they looked at each other, Madge constantly appeared about to say something, but never did.
Several wide steps up to a screened porch, also loaded with roses, let them see that the front door was open. Cyrus rang the bell.
Not a sound came from inside the two-story house.
“Oh, dear,” Madge said. “Poor Kate. If she wants to be alone, we shouldn’t intrude.”
“She likes her gardens,” Cyrus said. “She could be out back.”
They trailed in ragged file onto a fork in the path which looked as if it led around the house. Cyrus walked ahead.
His well-washed check shirt didn’t look priestlike. Bleu thought, as she so often did, that he could be any woman’s vital husband, the father of rambunctious children. When he glanced back, it was directly at Madge and his smile flashed just for her.
“Bleu,” Madge whispered. “I don’t think I should have told you what I did. I haven’t heard anything else about Roche—nothing worrying.”
“You did the right thing,” Bleu said. Her eyes stung. It was impossible not to think of being in bed with him, his gentle power and the way he’d excited her made her feel complete. There had been nothing rough or scary about him.
“I only want the best for you,” Madge said.
“I know,” Bleu said, and she did. “Don’t worry. It’s in my hands now.”
Madge hesitated. “You probably won’t see him again, will you? That doesn’t seem completely fair. Lil always makes a lot out of a little. I’m sure she saw Roche with someone, but it didn’t have to be exactly the way she said.”
Cyrus had stopped in front of them.
“Not now,” Bleu said. She didn’t know what she would do about Roche.
Laughter came from behind the house. Cyrus reached the end of the side wall and called out, “Kate? You here?”
More laughter rose. A man and a woman laughing together. Bleu frowned and listened hard. A shared moment. A conspiratorial pleasure.
“She’s already got company,” Madge said, joining Cyrus.
Her cousin had only heard laughter, not something secretive or forbidden. Bleu decided her imagination was wayward.
The three of them went forward until they saw a beautiful garden. Lush hedges and shrubs, banks of brilliant flowers, a perfectly mowed lawn that stretched into groves of fruit trees.
Bleu didn’t see anyone there.
“That’s Jim’s house over there,” Madge said, pointing. “I heard he left that to Kate, too. At least she’ll be really well-fixed.”
Built of split logs on stilts, Jim’s house probably covered four thousand square feet.
Set too far back to be seen from the road, trees all but hid it on all sides except for the one that faced Kate’s property.
“I didn’t expect anything quite so grand,” Bleu said.
“Jim’s house, you mean?” Cyrus asked. “Or this one?”
She blew at a hair caught on her lips. “Both, I guess.”
“Should we come back?” Madge said, already backing away.
“Kate!” Cyrus headed for an archway cut in a tall hedge ahead of them.
He ducked to go through and Bleu followed him.
“Who’s that?” Madge asked when she joined them.
Kate sat in a white wood chaise, facing away from them. Beside her on a stool, a man with a lot of curly brown hair talked quietly, his arms wrapped around his knees. A pale denim shirt stretched over his hunched back. Bleu thought he must be tall. He was certainly well-built.
Kate held a glass toward him and he picked up a jug from a tray on the grass and poured. Then he poured for himself, and they laughed again, their heads close together.
“Maybe another time.” Cyrus swung around and the hardness in his face shocked Bleu.
“Father Cyrus, is that you?”
Bleu saw Kate stand up.
The man also got to his feet. He moved a couple of steps away from her.
“Father? You will not go away without talkin’ to me. Whatever next? George, get more chairs, and glasses for tea.”
George, unsmiling, left at once.
“Hello, Kate,” Cyrus said, turning around again. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“That’s George Pinney,” Madge said, her voice low. “He and his wife have rooms in Jim’s house. George helps…helped Jim with things around the two properties. Mary manages Hungry Eyes. I don’t really know them well.”
Bleu and Madge glanced at one another.
“I’ve met Mary,” Bleu said, wishing it hadn’t been while she was in her pajamas. “But you know that.”
She called out to Kate, “Don’t go to any trouble, Mrs. Harper. We only want to know how you are.”
“And let you know how the case is progressing,” Cyrus added.
Kate held a starched lace fan. She flipped it open and wafted it very rapidly before her face. Over the top, she stared at them with pale blue eyes. Red hair curled beneath a broad-brimmed straw hat.
George Pinney came back with folding chairs slung behind one shoulder. He had little difficulty holding three in one hand. In the other, he carried glasses.
Quickly, he set up the chairs, lifted the tray from the grass to the stool he’d abandoned and poured for everyone. Then he stood away a little, wiping his hands on his dark pants.
“This is George,” Kate said, looking up at the man from beneath the brim of her hat. “I don’t know what I’d be doing without him and Mary. If I had to sit here all the time imagining my poor Jimmy lyin’ dead in the church, why, I think I’d just curl up and die. At least I could go to join Jimmy then.”
Bleu pursed her lips to stop a grin. This wasn’t supposed to be funny.
“Kate,” Cyrus said. “You know Jim’s body hasn’t been released—”
“No!” Kate completely hid her face with the fan. She shook her head and the hat brim wobbled. “Don’t, please, I can’t bear it. Who would do such a thing to a sweet, innocent man who never hurt a fly? I ask you, who would do that?”
“Someone who has lost his way in life,” Cyrus said gently. “We’re here for you. The whole town is here for you.”
“Not the whole town,” Kate said.
Cyrus shook his head. “Don’t think about any of that. Whatever you need, you’ve got it. We’ll make sure of it.”
Kate sniffed. “Thank you, Father.”
“Do you need something now?” Cyrus asked.
Bleu watched his honest face, looked at Madge watching him, too, and felt so sad.
“What I need is for some people in this town to stop sayin’ terrible things about me.” Kate dropped the fan in her lap and raised her pointed chin. She had a smooth, heart-shaped face, pale against her red hair, and now her spirit brought her back up straight. “I do know what’s been suggested. Jim and I have kept company for some years. We aren’t—weren’t—children, but our intentions were pure.”
“Of course they were,” Cyrus said.
“Weren’t they, George?” Kate said. “You and Mary have been here. You’re my witnesses that Jim and I had a chaste friendship. We were two lonely people who helped each other get through life. He made sure I was looked after. I kept him company.”
Bleu thought about the dinners she had cooked for him. She smiled at the woman. “And you made sure he didn’t starve,” she said. “You do remember me, Mrs. Harper. I’m Bleu Laveau. I so liked Jim—he was the best-tempered man.”
Kate’s white lace dress settled gracefully around her. Even her neck and the skin revealed between crisp lapels showed little sign of age.
“Jim Zachary would do anything for me,” Kate said, apparently not hearing what Bleu said. “George here did all the shoppin’ and Mary cooked our meals. Jim’s and mine, that is. We ate here. They ate over there.” She pointed a pale orange fingernail toward Jim Zachary’s house.
“That must have been a great comfort to you,” Madge said. She set the basket of baked goodies down near Kate.
Bleu took inventory of the woman. She wasn’t old, or even elderly. Early fifties at the most. And she showed no sign of arthritis that Bleu could see.
“What are you goin’ to do about this nonsense talk?” Kate asked Cyrus.
High-heeled pumps showed off a pair of slim ankles.
“If someone says something they shouldn’t, I’ll be sure to have a chat,” Cyrus told her. “But you don’t have to worry about that. You’ve got other things on your mind.”
“I surely do,” Kate said. Her mouth trembled. “I laugh because I don’t want to cry. I talk as if I’m angry because it stops me from screamin’. I dress myself up and put on makeup because there’s no way I’m going to let folks in this town, the ones who don’t like me, chatter about how I’m lettin’ myself go. Jim wouldn’t like it and neither do I.”
“I admire you for that,” Madge said. “I don’t know if I could be as strong.”
Bleu couldn’t keep her eyes off Kate’s shoes. They didn’t look very big, but neither were they tiny. Were they large enough to make the footprints outside the rectory?
Now she was being a fool. No way would this fastidious woman climb around in the mud—or pack filthy burned books into a box and wrap it up like a wedding gift. And Jim would have had to put his head down on the pew and hold still while Kate stabbed that knife through his neck.
Bleu swallowed several times.
Even then, it was doubtful Kate could have got the blade to go in, skewer the bench, then pull the thing out.
Nausea washed over Bleu.
Two tears slipped from the corners of Kate’s eyes. “I told him not to get involved,” she whispered.
Cyrus caught Bleu’s eye and shook his head slightly. “Whoever did that to Jim wasn’t rational,” he said. “I think it was a random thing.”
“No, Father. My Jim died because he was too good and because he always championed the underdog.” Her china-blue gaze settled, without malice, on Bleu. “He told me how angry he was that people didn’t treat you well, Bleu. He thought the new school was a wonderful idea, and the senior center, well, he couldn’t stop talkin’ about that. He wanted there to be a place for the old people to go. He talked about hiring a nurse to be there just in case, and makin’ the place handicapped accessible. There would be plenty of room in the end, that’s what he said. Although I never could figure out how.” She raised her shoulders and she held her glass out.
George Pinney scrambled to refill her iced tea and Kate drank, raising her delicate white throat.
“Poor George,” Kate said. “He lost his job, you know.”
“Now, Miz Harper,” George said, his face darkening. “No need to bother people with my little troubles, not when there’s much bigger things to worry about.”
“I think it embarrasses him if I talk about it,” Kate said, as if the man couldn’t hear every word of her conversation. “He used to be quite somethin’. Worked for a law firm in N’awlins, not that I know anythin’ about things like that. Now look at him. And Mary’s away all day workin’ at that café. Not a suitable job for an educated woman at all.”
Bleu’s attention repeatedly wandered. She didn’t think she liked Kate Harper and felt sorry for George Pinney, who must need whatever he earned working around the two houses or he would never tolerate being humiliated by Kate.
“I’m going to have to get back,” Cyrus said. “But I did want to cover a few things with you first, Kate.”
“Of course, Father.” She leaned forward and slipped a slim hand into one of his big, tanned ones. “You can make me feel safe and that’s a blessin’.”
“Would you rather we spoke alone?”
“Why?” Kate stared around. “Are you goin’ to say somethin’ that people who care about me can’t hear?”
“Not a thing.” Cyrus smiled at her and his chest expanded with the big breath he took. “Are you okay for money? I mean do you have enough for your running expenses?”
Kate nodded. “Thank you for askin’. Some would shy away from a delicate subject like that. I know my late husband didn’t provide for me, but other members of my family did and I’ll manage. I didn’t want Jim to leave me anythin’, but he wouldn’t hear of anythin’ else. It’ll be a while before things can be settled, but then—” she looked away “—then I’ll be a rich woman. Rich with no one to share anythin’ with. I’d give up everythin’ I have if I could get Jim back.”
“I know you would,” Cyrus said.
Madge and Bleu looked at each other and quickly away again. Cyrus was serious. The woman was sucking him right in with the helpless-victim act. Why did men fall for that?
“Do you know if Jim has any other relatives?” Cyrus asked. He had told Madge and Bleu that Spike wanted him to ask these questions so Spike wouldn’t have to.
“If he did have any, he never mentioned them,” Kate said.
“When the coroner is finished with his…work, Jim’s funeral will have to be arranged. I know you aren’t related to him, but since the two of you were close, if there aren’t any relatives, you should be the one to decide how things are done. If you want to, of course.”
Kate put her feet on the chaise again. She folded her hands in her lap and looked far away.
“Kate?” Cyrus said.
“Don’t press me,” she said. “I can’t bear it. Madge, you arrange everything and let me know the details. You’re used to these things. He liked a rose in his buttonhole. There’s to be a fresh one for the viewin’. And plenty of food for after the service. Champagne so we can toast Jim.
“Make sure I’m in the front pew and I’ll walk behind the casket. That’s the least I can do for him.”
Bleu eyed the shoes one more time. Just because the prints Roche found might have been too big didn’t mean a thing. With the mud being wet, a person’s feet could have slipped and made the prints bigger.
“I’ll talk to y’all another time,” Kate said.
Cyrus got up at once, and Bleu followed with Madge.
Unexpectedly, Kate turned sharp eyes on Bleu. “Enough damage has been done because of this silly scheme of yours.”
Bleu’s skin prickled.
“A fancy school in a little place like this? Such airs. And who’s going to afford to send their children there, I’d like to know?”
“Kate,” Cyrus put in quickly. “Bleu didn’t decide we should have a school, the parishioners did—or many of them. Bleu’s only here because we asked her to come and help us.”
“Give it up, before someone else dies,” Kate said, still focused on Bleu. “It’s a cursed idea. You weren’t here and I was just a child, but that old school went up in flames and a lot of children died. Burned to death. Trapped in that little hall in there. They were singin’ in the mornin’, their little faces turned up like flowers to the sun. And they all died.”
Madge made a strangled sound.
“Kate, Kate,” Cyrus said. “No one talks about it. I didn’t even know there had been deaths. How terrible.”
Tears brimmed in her eyes. “Don’t you go buildin’ another school. Hear me, girl? Not again—or I know terrible things are goin’ to happen. They already did, didn’t they?” She leaned forward, as if begging for understanding.
“Hush,” Bleu said. Before she could stop herself, she put a hand on the woman’s cheek.
Kate pressed her own fingers over Bleu’s and kissed her palm.
Revulsion cramped Bleu’s stomach but she didn’t pull away.
“I’ll tell you how I know,” Kate said, crying openly. “I was late for school that day. When I got there, the place was all smoke and flames and people tryin’ to save the little children. The mothers and fathers cryin’ and screamin’. But I was late, so I was fine. The whole area knew about it, but that generation’s all but gone now. People came from all over to help. I can still see all the parents tryin’ to rescue their babies.
“I walked home just sobbin’ all the way. I walked home alone. Nobody came lookin’ for me.”