Chapter 9

 

 

Two days later, Rae was sat at the breakfast table in Tante Ina’s kitchen, eating apple pie. As the sun streamed through the windows, the yellow checked curtains made the white kitchen look even brighter. Rae was reminded of all those times she’d sat here with her cousins when they were children. There was always laughter and singing at Tante Ina’s, in sharp contrast to her own house.

For two days Rae had put off coming here. Not because she didn’t want to see her aunt, but because Rae feared asking her the questions that could lead LaMar to unlock the past. A past that seemed like Pandora’s Box, no matter what answers came popping out.

“My Michael tells me the dance hall is lookin’ good, yeah.” Tante Ina eased down into the chair across from Rae. “Says it’s gonna be the biggest thing to hit this town since the seafood plant opened eight years ago.”

Rae picked at the flaky crust. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Says you gonna have the best Zydeco and blues folk around. People will be comin’ from all ‘round here, even New Orleans.” Tante Ina sipped her strong coffee. “Mon Dieu, Lucien would be so happy.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Sa va bien, oui?”

“Oui. Things are going well. The dance hall should be open in another week or so,” Rae replied.

Tante Ina raised both eyebrows at the morose expression on her niece’s face. “You lookin’ mighty pitiful to say life is goin’ so good.”

“I didn’t say that, Tante. I said the dance hall is coming along okay.” Rae put down her fork.

“I knew it. Don’t nobody neglect my pie without a good reason,” Tante Ina said with a chuckle, “especially not my tite mouche à miel (little honey bee).”

“Why did you always call me that, Tante?”

“Because you can make sweet music, like the bee makes honey. But you got a bad sting when you get mad.” Tante Ina pinched her chin.

“I never thanked you.” Rae caught her soft, plump hand.

“Thanked me for what?”

“All those days you let me sit in this kitchen with Elise, Michael and the rest without asking why I showed up.” Rae kissed her aunt’s skin, rough from hard work. “You don’t know how much it meant to me.”

“Oh poo,” Tante Ina said in a gruff voice. Her eyes were glassy. “Stop your nonsense – you one of my children. I tell everybody I born six, but I got ‘bout twenty altogether.” She got up to put her cup in the sink. Before turning back to sit down, she dabbed at her eyes.

Rae laughed. Tante Ina was right. Uncle David would just shake his head when he came home from work to find the house full of children. Nieces and nephews crowded into Tante Ina’s living room and kitchen, and spilled out into the yard. Rae thought Tante Ina was the quintessential mother hen.

“Now don’t try to change the subject on me. What’s got you frownin’ like this, cher?” Tante Ina would not be put off.

“Back about two years ago, when Daddy was so sick that time and I came home, we had a long talk. We worked out a lot of things. Daddy said he was sorry for making Mama so sad.” Rae could see Lucien with the vividness of a color photograph, sat in his favorite easy chair with a cotton afghan covering him from the waist down.

Tante Ina nodded. “Broke my heart to see it. ‘Letha was good for Lucien, but he hurt her bad. There were women, too, you know.”

“I heard the talk, but... So it was true?” Rae had already guessed as much, though her mother never said a word against him. Lucien had alluded to being no good as a husband.

“Not so many as some tried to put out, but yeah. I told Lucien one was too many. But it wasn’t just that.”

“I know. Anyway, Daddy said he wished the dance hall could be open again to give us something of our own, along with the land.”

“And you doin’ that, cher. A good job of it, too, to hear your cousins braggin’ on you.” Tante Ina patted her hand. “So why the long face? You made peace with your papa.”

“He begged me to prove Pawpaw Vincent wasn’t a thief.” Rae gazed into Tante Ina’s eyes, the color of pecan shells. “I’ve hired a private investigator to try and track down what happened to him.”

“Mais, jamais de la vie (well, for goodness sake),” Tante Ina said in a soft voice. “He wants to talk to you, so he can get more information to go on.” Rae watched her aunt with growing concern. Tante Ina sat staring out the window at the landscape. “To find out the truth.”

“The truth could snap us up like a big alligator, cher. I ain’t talked about that in years.” Tante Ina blinked as though trying to gain her bearings. She looked at Rae. “We were all tore up, you know. Us children cryin’ for Papa, and Mama half out her mind for days, my lord. Then she got quiet. That scared us even more.”

“So much pain. Maybe he left and that was wrong. But Daddy was so sure.” Rae had been moved by Lucien’s faith in the father he had not seen since he was six years old.

“Lucien thought Papa hung the moon. He was still cryin’ for him long after us older children stopped. But your daddy was just a baby, cher. He couldn’t know.”

“Maybe, but nobody knows for sure. There could be another explanation.” Rae did not add that even she couldn’t think of one.

“I’m gonna tell you somethin’ I never breathed to another livin’ soul before now, not even David.” Tante Ina leaned forward. “I was there the night Mama caught Papa with Miss Estelle. She couldn’t sleep. She followed him one Friday night. When he got home ‘bout three in the morning, Mama let him have it. I was hidin’ under that old sofa with the claw legs. He finally owned up to it and swore to break it off.”

“Then that proves–”

“Don’t prove nothin’. A week later they were back at it, honey. Old Miss Dixie, with her gossipin’ self, told it. Not that she was much different from the other folks in town. They said Miss Estelle was still steppin’ out with a man and Henry Jove was boilin’ mad.”

“But that was just gossip like you say.” Rae tried to find some hope.

“I put two and two together, and came up with four.” Tante Ina got up and poured more coffee in her cup. “Tell me you think different.”

“That does look bad,” Rae admitted. They sat quietly for a time. “But they said some man, not Pawpaw Vincent.”

“Yeah, say she was ridin’ in the car toward Lake Charles and couldn’t see who was drivin’. In that Ford Mr. Henry bought for her, too.”

“Then it might not have been Pawpaw Vincent.” Rae sighed at Tante Ina’s look of skepticism. “Yeah, pretty flimsy.”

“Child, we both grabbin’ at straws. We never wanted to believe the talk but... I remember that day.”

“Tante Ina, Daddy never told me much besides saying Pawpaw didn’t do it.” Rae wanted a first-hand account, as much for herself as for LaMar.

“It was September, ‘round Labor Day. We were all gettin’ ready for a parade down at Chauvin’s field.” Tante Ina’s voice took on the smooth tone of a storyteller and she smiled at the memory.

Rae did not want her to stop. “Mr. Chauvin’s field was where black folks had picnics,” she said in a soft voice, to prompt her aunt for more.

“Yeah, nice man. I dated one of his boys for a while. Mr. Chauvin had some big tables he built and would rent out his park, or so he called it. We called it a field.” She chuckled. “Used to make him so mad.”

“It’s a nice park now, with swings and such for kids; a building for receptions, too. Pawpaw Vincent took y’all there?”

Tante Ina continued, “Usually, on holidays, but that time, no – he didn’t come home that night. Mama got up and packed a basket. I heard her tell Tante Marguerite she wasn’t gonna let Papa spoil our fun. She sat off talkin’ with her sisters. Like kids, we knew somethin’ was wrong, but soon got caught up in playin’ and the firecrackers.

“Long ‘bout two o’clock, Henry Jove come barrelin’ up in that big Chrysler of his, and jumps out. He starts yellin’ how Papa was a thief. Mr. Joe tried to get him to lower his voice so us children wouldn’t hear, but he was too out of his mind. Mr. Henry was yellin’ ‘bout his Estelle. And, I’ll never forget this, he cried. That man just sat down and bawled. ‘Fore long we heard there was money missin’, too.”

“They searched for them, right? I don’t understand why they didn’t find them,” said Rae, thinking that even in 1963 they must have been able to trace people.

“The law didn’t much care ‘bout black folk business back then. Old Sheriff Leblanc flat out said he wasn’t gonna waste his resources runnin’ up and down the countryside. The sheriff in New Orleans found Miss Estelle’s car. That fine car would have given them up for sure; the color of a sable coat. Guess that’s why they ditched it,” added Tante Ina.

Rae thought her aunt seemed all talked out, her face tired and sad looking. “I didn’t mean to get you upset, Tante.”

“I’m okay, baby.” Tante Ina wore a slight smile. “Fifty years helped me get used to it. But the talk after Papa left, the way we got treated, was awful.”

“You’d think Monmon Marie would have gotten sympathy. She was a victim, too.”

“Folks couldn’t take it out on Papa, so... Besides, Mama had a bad temper, even back in those days. She told ‘em what was on her mind. Said Papa shoulda taken their money cause they was all fools to trust Henry Jove. They said Papa must’ve left her some ‘fore he took off. Mama kept us goin’ on hard work. If there was extra money, I couldn’t tell.” Tante Ina closed her eyes.

“Will you talk to LaMar?” Rae had to ask. Everything she’d heard left her wanting to follow any thread, no matter how weak; there were too many unanswered questions.

“LaMar Zeno? That boy who helped out Savannah and Paul?”

“Yeah, that’s him. Savannah gave me his name.” Rae had called her cousin when she remembered how a black private detective had helped her out three years earlier.

Tante Ina patted Rae’s head. “I’ll tell him as much as I can remember, cher. Just hope you don’t get your heart broke fishin’ for the truth.” She started washing the dishes.

A sense of foreboding ran through Rae at her aunt’s words. She began to wonder if there could be an answer to this mystery that would not hurt someone.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next day, Rae sat on her back porch strumming her fingers across the strings of her old, acoustic guitar. She played for at least an hour every day. Not so much for practice, though that helped, but as a kind of extension of herself. It was part of her daily routine, much as others had a second cup of coffee or read the morning paper.

She strummed a Creole tune that Monmon Marie had taught her when she was four years old. The summer evening’s still bright sunshine brought a faintly cooling breeze, which rustled the leaves of the trees. Rae changed to a blues song that told a sensuous tale of true love finally found. The last notes faded away; a deep thrumming that implied passionate lovemaking without one word of lyric needed.

Hand-clapping came from her left. Simon stood there, wearing a light green knit, polo shirt and cotton pants the color of wet sand. His muscular body, outlined against the splash of light took her breath away.

“This is the first time I’ve heard you play alone. That was beautiful, Rae.” Simon sat down next to her and kissed her forehead. “I’ve missed you.”

Rae’s skin tingled from the touch of his lips. “We saw each other the night before last.”

“You didn’t call me at the office yesterday morning. My day got off to a bad start without the sound of your voice. And last night you seemed unwilling to talk.” Simon watched her for several seconds.

Rae’s heart pounded. “Simon, you think maybe we’re moving too fast after all? The history between our families can’t be just brushed off.”

“No, but it shouldn’t keep us from being happy.” Simon cupped her chin with one strong hand and turned her face to his. “You make me happier than anyone or anything else. I can’t let you go now, Rae.”

His words hit her with such force that her resistance sagged. Rae welcomed his arms around her. She held on tight, half afraid it was only a lovely dream that this wonderful man wanted her so much.

“Simon, there are some things you should know about me.”

“I don’t want to hear confessions, Rae.”

She pulled back from him. “Just listen. Please?”

“Okay,” Simon said softly, wrapping his arms around her again. “If you need to tell me, go on.”

“When I was just a teenager, Darcy and I dated.”

Simon did take his arms away, but he tensed. “Any feelings left for him?”

“No, none at all, but–”

“Then it doesn’t matter. No more than all those girls I swore to love forever when I was fifteen.”

Rae felt him relax against her. “I felt you should know. Someone might take great pleasure in telling you about it.” She knew Toya would paint a graphic picture worthy of a tabloid newspaper.

“Then they’ll be disappointed when I don’t faint from the shock.” Simon chuckled.

“I’ve also hired a private detective to find out what really happened to Pawpaw Vince.” Rae looked at him. “LaMar Zeno has all ready begun investigating.”

“Good,” Simon said in a firm voice.

“What?” Rae had not expected this reaction at all. “Everyone else I’ve told, even Andrew, said maybe I should leave it alone.”

“Strange how the folks you think would welcome it get cold feet.” Simon held her tighter. “The truth might settle all those bad feelings once and for all.”

“Or prove Pawpaw Vince was exactly what folks said he was – a thief. Then they could spit on us for good reason.” Rae imagined the self-righteous expressions.

“How is that different from the way some of them act now?” Simon asked.

“Good point.”

“Actually, most of the people who felt the most bitterness have died since then. Old man Pitre and his son, Mr. Wilson and Mr. Leland, all gone home to rest, as my grandmother says,” said Simon, gently rocking Rae back and forth.

“Except your grandfather and Mr. Henry, who are still here.” Rae did not add that they were the two most aggrieved by Pawpaw Vincent’s alleged betrayal. “Mr. Henry lost more than money.”

“Rae, do what you have to do, and don’t worry about it. Papa Joe and Mr. Henry survived their loss fifty years ago. I doubt it will devastate them now. Either your grandfather did it or he didn’t.”

Rae’s anxiety spiked. “But what happened to the money if Pawpaw Vincent didn’t take it?”

“Then there was another thief. Maybe Miss Estelle left with some other man nobody knew about.” Simon offered the explanation in a casual way, but jumped at Rae’s strong reaction.

“Cher, you’re brilliant!” Rae kissed him hard on the lips.

She was relieved beyond belief. Why hadn’t I thought of that? It did not have to be Mr. Henry or, thank goodness, Mr. Joe. Maybe the truth did not have to destroy her new-found happiness.

Simon grinned at her. “Thanks. Uh, what in particular helped you to see this profound truth? Not that I’m arguing with the results.”

“You made me see the obvious.” Rae could not tell him she had suspected his grandfather of not only stealing the money, but framing her grandfather. “I was just so worried that since evidence pointed to Pawpaw Vince, it might be true.”

“Baby, that old saying about the sins of the father has to be put aside by you and the rest of this town.” Simon brushed her hair with one hand. “Even if you find proof that he did it, it’s his sin. Not yours.”

“I know. It’s just that it meant so much to Lucien to prove the father he loved wasn’t a bum.” Rae leaned against him. “Maybe it’s just as well Daddy won’t be here. In case we do find Pawpaw Vincent stole the money and left his family behind for Estelle.”

“From what I hear, Estelle was friendly with more than a couple of men in this parish.”

“Simon St. Cyr, you’ve been listening to nasty old gossip.” Rae feigned a look of shocked disapproval and then winked at him with a wicked smile. “Tell me more.”

“Just that she wasn’t exactly Saint Estelle when it came to men. My grandmother, great aunts and aunts used to talk while they were cooking or sitting in the yard after supper. They said Mr. Henry shouldn’t have been surprised she took off.”

“So Estelle was generous with her affection?”

“Very generous from what I overheard.”

Rae shook a finger under his nose. “Shame on you for eavesdropping, you little rascal.”

“Hey, can I help it if the tree I sat under to rest was near them?” Simon tried to look innocent.

“Don’t try that boyish charm on me.”

Simon traced the neckline of her shirt to the top button. “I thought you liked my boyish charm, Ms. Dalcour.”

“Well, maybe just a little.” Rae watched his finger with fascination as it touched the curve of her breast. She felt icy hot inside. “Okay, a lot,” she said, her breath short.

“Tell you what, you give me another tune and I’ll treat you to dinner.” Simon spoke with his lips pressed against her cheek.

“Dinner? Is that all?” Rae murmured.

“Not even.” Simon grinned. “Come on now, play for me.”

“You don’t want to hear...” She melted at the sensation of his finger on her lips, cutting her off gently.

Simon handed her the guitar. “Your music is an important part of you. I want to share everything. Please, just you and me.”

“You got it, babe,” she replied.

For two hours all of the music inside her welled up and out through her fingers. The couple sat side by side, making love without touching. Simon joined in on some of the old Creole songs he knew; his voice a deep baritone. Rae watched him laugh at the funny songs and grow quiet at the sad ones. As the sun went down, they became one in spirit. Rae marveled that there could be this kind of heaven on Earth.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Now what are you going to do, Mr. Genius?” Marius sneered at Darcy. He spoke up as soon as the door closed behind the Pantheon project director’s representative. “Latham was not happy with the news that you messed up our plans.”

Darcy stared back at Marius from where he sat in a dark green, leather chair, behind his massive desk. The office was a study in elegance. Prints of New Orleans jazz bands adorned the walls and the polished, oak furniture was impeccable. Darcy’s spacious office was in a modern building that was part of a new development. Mr. Henry rented the spaces at cost from the owner, as he had helped him to make quite a few profitable real-estate deals.

“I didn’t mess up anything.” Darcy spoke in a deadly calm voice, which should have warned his cousin.

“Really? You got a little too clever. You did exactly what grandfather predicted: outsmarted yourself.”

Darcy leaned back in his chair. “No one can ever accuse you of that, can they?”

“What, screwing up a major business transaction?” Marius asked. His sneer twisted what should have been attractive features, but were made ugly by his personality.

“No, of being too clever,” Darcy retorted. “Don’t get any ideas that you can use this against me.”

“Who, me?” Marius spread his arms wide. “I wouldn’t dream of doing anything like that.”

“Good. Otherwise I might be forced to tell Grandfather and the U.S. Attorney about that deal you cut.” Darcy’s voice was cold.

Marius blinked at him. “Wha–”

“You got a contract with DHH to sell them office supplies. Your buddy made sure you got it, even though you weren’t the lowest bidder and he got a kickback. Using the mail to defraud is a federal offense.” Darcy raised his eyebrows. “And Graydon Bell is a very tenacious U.S. Attorney.”

“I didn’t! You can’t prove–” Marius swore under his breath and balled up his hands into fists.

“Don’t mess with me. Do we understand each other?” Darcy’s stare was as hard as steel.

“You wouldn’t dare risk dragging the family name through the mud.”

“Wanna bet? No one will head this corporation but me. No one,” Darcy said.

“Grandfather would stand by me.” Marius tried to recover some advantage. “It wouldn’t even get to trial. Grandfather knows how smart business is done.”

“No doubt you’d have the best attorney possible. But do you think Grandfather would let you near a responsible position of any of the family businesses after that?” Darcy shook his head slowly.

Both men knew the answer.

Marius pounded the arm of his chair in frustration. “You bastard!”

“I’m sure you’d do the same for me, cousin,” Darcy shot back.

Marius sat fuming for several minutes before his sneer returned. “What about your secret meetings with the police jury president? Grandfather would not be happy.”

“How did you find out–” Darcy dipped his head in a slight bow. “Seems we have a stand-off.”

“Let’s be honest, Grandfather is not going to cut you out and promote me. But he will make sure we’re rewarded equally. So let’s protect each other, since we both could lose big time.” Marius adopted a practical tone.

“Agreed. Now do you have any suggestions regarding Pantheon?” Darcy waited patiently.

After a few moments, Marius brightened. “We could get the Feds to declare part of the Dalcour property as wetlands. Then they would lose it.”

Darcy gave him a look of contempt. “So would we, Marius. That would take the land off the market for any kind of development. What a stupid idea.”

Marius glared at him. “Well, what do you suggest?”

“Pantheon wants, no needs, this plant. The state and the Feds are on their backs about the waste they produce at other sites. Part of an agreement they made to avoid hefty fines was to safely dispose of hazardous by-products.” Darcy was back in control. He leaned back into the rich leather of his chair.

“Really? Hmm, I didn’t know that.” Marius rubbed his chin.

“Of course you didn’t. But I do. They won’t squawk if we use a different tract, adjacent to our land.” Darcy brushed the sleeve of his cotton shirt.

“But what will Grandfather say? He really wants to get his hands on Dalcour property.” Marius seemed to hesitate at the thought of Henry’s displeasure.

“He’ll get over it. It’s time he let us handle the day-to-day affairs anyway.” Darcy looked at his cousin. “He deserves a rest after all these years.”

“Wait a minute, this means you’ll have to have Bayou Latte dredged and a road built. You know how he’ll react.” Marius went from hesitation to obvious fear. Henry Jove was a force of destruction when angry.

“You want a multi-million-dollar deal to take wings and fly away? We either decide to ride out Grandfather’s displeasure or kiss that plant goodbye.” Darcy did not seem the least bit concerned about Henry’s reaction. “Besides, when I show him all those lovely zeros in the profit column, he’ll be quite happy.”

Marius brightened again at the mention of money. “You’re right. So, when do we start?”

“I’m meeting with Latham and his bosses in New Orleans in a week. You get started with the process to have dredging done.”

“Right. What about Rae Dalcour? Are we just going to let her stay? Toya won’t be happy.” Marius stood.

“I don’t care if she throws one of her temper tantrums. Ignore her.”

Marius scrutinized Darcy. “Of course, your weak spot for Rae Dalcour doesn’t have anything to do with it. Right?”

“I don’t have a weak spot for anyone,” Darcy snapped. He caught himself when he saw Marius smile with satisfaction.

“I would have thought exactly that, until now.” Marius leaned on the desk. “Keep your priorities straight.”

“All she wants is to open some juke joint on the bayou. So what if Dalcours still own property?”

“I don’t care about some old family feud.” Marius dismissed fifty years of animosity with a wave of his hand. “We can make big money developing that land – millions.”

Darcy gazed at him. “What are you thinking, Marius?”

“That Toya is right about one thing – we need to take care of Rae Dalcour.”

“Leave Rae alone,” Darcy said. “I’ll see she comes around in my own way.”

“You got two weeks, cousin. Then I’ll take over.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Rae made a full turn to look around the living room. “Darn, Andy. Looks like a tornado touched down in here.”

Andrew lived four miles down the road from their family home in a double-wide trailer he’d bought at a government auction. Despite the clutter inside, the three-bedroom home did not look too bad. Andrew took her comment with his usual easygoing outlook.

“Serena helps me out once a week, cleaning up.” Andrew shoved a stack of magazines on fishing and cars out of the way, so his sister could sit on the sofa.

“You’ve got some charm. Your ex-wife helps you clean up and your girlfriend comes over to cook. Don’t you get a little confused sometimes?”

Andrew grunted. “Serena comes by for her child-support check and to beg for money as much as anything. And Marilyn is a nag.”

Rae smiled. “Those kids of yours are cute as can be. Little Aletha Ann has the prettiest fat, brown cheeks.”

“Yeah, they’re good-lookin’ little rascals. Hey, Robert is on the honor roll at school, too.” Andrew went to the refrigerator and came back with two bottles of Barq’s crème soda.

“That’s wonderful. See what good genes us Dalcours have to pass on?” Rae took a long drink. “Um, I sure missed this stuff. It’s good to be home.”

Andrew plopped down in the chair next to the sofa. “No place like home.” He put his feet on the coffee table with a satisfied sigh. “How is work at the dance hall comin’?”

“Almost through. I’m having flyers for the grand opening printed up. Gonna have ads in the Baton Rouge newspaper. Got a listing in four small papers that are mostly about local interests – those are free.”

“You’ve really got this all planned out. Sounds good.”

“We’re going to have our grand opening on Memorial Day weekend.” Rae was pleased with the progress she’d made.

“Three weeks away. You’ll be ready by then? I know how much needed to be done on that place.” Andrew shook his head. “It was in a mess.”

“I lit a fire under those guys. We’ll be ready in another week or so. Jamal and Wes are bringing the band, and guess who’s coming in to sing on Monday at the big outdoor barbecue?”

“Who?”

“Kenny Neal.” Rae beamed at him.

“Get outta here, girl! You gonna make Neville’s investment back in three days.” Andrew looked impressed.

“I’ll settle for a modest profit to start. But I think this thing is going to take off.” Rae heaved a sigh. “I’ve kept one of my promises to Daddy. By the way, LaMar called the other day. He thinks he’s got a lead.”

Andrew’s good humor evaporated. “Oh?”

“I tell you, Savannah was right about him. He’s good. He found out the sheriff in Orleans Parish had witnesses that saw a couple leave the car. One lady is still living in Kenner. Anyway, LaMar thinks he can trace the couple at least to where they stayed after leaving the car.”

Andrew twisted his hands together. “I’ve been thinking it might be best to just forget about it. What difference could it make after all these years?”

“It will make a difference to our family,” Rae said.

“I don’t think anybody cares about it these days. Nobody treats my kids bad cause their name is Dalcour,” Andrew said. “Tell that detective to quit lookin’.”

“Since I hired LaMar, you’ve been acting real funny. What’s up?” Rae leaned forward to stare at him hard.

“It’s just we don’t want no more trouble.” Andrew did not look at her. “Once the dance hall starts goin’, you’ll get respect from everybody for bringin’ business to town.”

“I’m not buying that line, Andy. You never cared what folks in Belle Rose thought. What’s the real reason?” Rae persisted.

Andrew sat back against the cushion and looked at her. “Remember I told you I went up in Daddy’s attic?”

“Yeah, to look for his burial policy and stuff…”

“I found some papers.” Andrew got up and walked to the open screen door of the trailer.

“What kind of papers?” Rae got up to stand behind him. She tugged on his arm. “Andrew, tell me what this is about.”

Andrew turned around. His eyes were sad. “I found some old letters that Pawpaw Vincent wrote. Love letters to Estelle Jove.”

Rae sighed with relief. “I knew he’d been having an affair with her. But that doesn’t make him a–”

“And there were some papers where he wrote off for information on living in South America. He said in one letter that money wouldn’t be a problem.” Andrew shook his head and then walked back to drop into the chair again.

Rae felt a pounding in her head at his words. “But Daddy was so sure...”

Could it be that their grandfather had been so selfish that he’d left his family to face poverty and persecution? Had they been defending him all this time when he’d cared nothing for the pain he left behind?

Andrew looked at her with eyes clouded with pain and anger, caused by a man whom neither of them had ever known. “I think maybe he did exactly what they say he did, Rae. Our grandfather was a lyin’, wife-stealin’ thief.”