Tell Me Something Good (35 page)

“The lines had been cut. Several neighbors
reported their phones went dead late last night.” Noel rubbed his
eyes. “Keisha, they found Earl in one of the rooms upstairs. He’d
been knocked out.”

Keisha’s eyes widened with horror. “Oh no! Is
he—” “He’s alive, but barely. Smoke inhalation. The fire must have
smoldered for a long time before smoke spread through the house.
They just found him and took him to the hospital.” Noel rose
slowly, as though he carried a heavy weight.

“We have to call his mother,” Keisha said
through tears. She glanced at Lyrissa. “Earl is a single parent.
Kamal is four and Jasmine is ten. His wife was killed two years ago
in a car accident.”

“Earl’s sister is going to keep the kids. Can
you go to the hospital and stay with his mother? I’ll wait here for
Andre and the insurance people.”

Keisha stood up. She collected herself. “Of
course. I’ll make sure she’s okay, then come back.”

“Let me help,” Lyrissa said to Noel.

“No, baby. I’ll get you a cab back to the
apartment. It was good having you here, though. I love you,” he
murmured and kissed her lightly.

Lyrissa watched him walk away. Keisha hurried
off in the opposite direction with a distracted goodbye. She sat
alone, gazing at the hustle of activity from firemen. The coffee
shop filled with customers who talked about the fire and rumors
they*d heard. Their voices were muffled. Lyrissa only heard echoes
of Noel’s deep voice saying, “I love you.”

“What the hell happened?” Carlton paced the
floor of his office and wrung his hands. “How did Earl get
hint?”

Julie sat in a leather chair. She seemed
tense but in control. “Lower your voice or the whole office will
hear you,” she said in a dipped tone.

Carlton halted and darted a frightened glance
at the closed door. He sat next to her. “The house was supposed to
be empty. You didn’t mention anything about a fire. The collection
was supposed to be intact after all this settled down,” he
whispered harshly.

“I’d moved most of the good pieces to the
front room after that wine and cheese party I hosted. Remember,
they ‘stole’ most of it, anyway. Nothing valuable was seriously
damaged.” Julie waved a hand.

“And Earl?”

Julie wore an irritated frown. “That fool
wasn’t sup-posed to be there. He must have changed his schedule.
Anyway, Keisha says he’ll live.”

“Was he burned?” Carlton flinched as though
feeling the flames.

“No, just a bit of smoke inhalation. He might
be in the hospital for a while, maybe have lung problems,” Julie
said in a distracted tone. Earl’s health did not seem to be her
real concern.

“Good God, Julie! Noel says the police will
charge the arsonist with attempted murder if they catch them.”
Carlton rubbed his face with a shaky hand.

“That’s a big if. Arson is a very difficult
crime to solve.” Julie tilted her head to one side. “Actually, the
fire wasn’t a dumb move. Anyway, those guys will make sure they
don’t get caught now.”

“If they’d been smart, they would have made
the fire look like an accident.”

“I told Keisha that those rags had been left
after the cleaning crew finished up. The fire actually started in a
wall. So the fire department isn’t sure it wasn’t accidental now.”
Julie smiled at him.

“Yeah, and Keisha also told them all about
the electrical contract work,” Carlton shot back. “They’ve ruled
that out as a cause.”

“I never would have guessed she had that much
intelligence.” Julie’s thin mouth turned down into a sour
expression.

“Seems your plan wasn’t so well thought out
after all,” Carlton snarled.

“A minor detail. They’re calling it a
suspicious fire. As I said, most arson cases are never solved.
Except this one will be, with a little help from us.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re so cocky!” Carlton
stood and went to his desk. He sat down hard.

“Stay calm and everything will fall into
place. Lyrissa will get a nasty surprise very soon. Imagine
thinking she could get away with such a scheme.” Julie wore a nasty
smile.

“Why should anyone believe she’d steal art?”
He shook his head. “You must have been crazy to hire street
criminals to commit burglary. Now Earl is hurt, and—”

“Shut up, Carlton!” Julie leaned forward and
pointed a manicured finger at him. “It was your idea to frame her,
or have you forgotten?”

He shrunk back against the chair. “Okay,
okay. What’s done is done,” Carlton muttered. “Just make sure those
men can be trusted to keep their mouths shut.”

Julie snorted. “Hell no, they can’t be
trusted. They’re scum! But they’re well-paid scum who don’t know
who we are.”

“How do you know those kind of people?”
Carlton wore a curious expression.

“Never mind. Except for this little blip with
Earl getting hurt, we can still win.”

He studied her in silence for several
seconds. “You’re cold-blooded, Julie.”

A slow smile spread across her face.
“Worried?” Carlton continued to look at her a few moments more
before he shook his head. “No, your fingerprints are all over the
dirty work. You made the contacts and set things in motion.”

“Yes, I did. I can prove you gave me the
money, though.” Her eyes glittered with malice.

Tiny beads of sweat popped out on his
forehead. “How?”

Julie stood and smoothed the front of her
green Donna

Karan dress. “We’re in this together. Don’t
make the mistake of thinking otherwise.” She strolled out of his
office without a backward glance.

Carlton rocked his chair back and forth in a
jerky, nervous motion. “Bitch!” he mumbled low.

Lyrissa, Mama Grace, and Aunt Claire were in
Ebony’s law office on Camp Street. They were on the tenth floor of
a twenty-story building. The window behind Ebony gave them a view
of the New Orleans business district skyline. The brilliant blue
sky was dotted with fluffy clouds. Yet the idyllic scene contrasted
with the anger in the office.

“This is a plot to steal our painting again!”
Mama Grace pounded on Ebony’s desk as she spoke.

Ebony moved a crystal pen stand away from
her. “Take it easy,” she said.

“Noel wouldn’t do such a thing,” Lyrissa said
for the tenth time in five minutes. “You’re being paranoid.”

“Grace has a point, Lyrissa. The St. Denis
family can be very crafty,” Aunt Claire said with nod.

“Look at the lies they’ve spread about Jules
Joubert!” Mama Grace slapped a palm on a recent copy of the
magazine with the stories.

“All those women and illegitimate children!”
Aunt Claire’s eyes twinkled. “He drank like a fish. We knew that.
But, my goodness. When did he find the time, not to mention the
energy, to paint?” She started to giggle, then stopped at a
venomous look from Mama Grace.

“And he made copies of his own work, then
sold them as the originals.” Ebony shook her head. “I won’t he to
you, this is bad.”

“I want to sue them for defamation of
character and get our painting back.” Mama Grace shook a finger at
Ebony.

“You can’t defame a dead person, Miss Grace,”
Ebony said patiently.

“You should have told us about Jules, Mama
Grace,” Lyrissa added. “We’d look like idiots, pressing a lawsuit
now.”

Mama Grace huffed for a few moments. “So he
wasn’t perfect,” she admitted grudgingly.

Aunt Claire put a hand to her mouth as she
smothered another giggle. Ebony cleared her throat loudly and
glanced at Lyrissa.

“In other words, most of it’s true.”

“Which doesn’t change one basic fact—they
stole his painting and we’ve got the documents to prove it.” Mama
Grace wore an intractable scowl.

“We’d better wait. No need in pressing your
claim now. I’m sure Mrs. St. Denis will dredge up more dirt on the
old rascal. I mean Mr. Joubert,” Ebony added quickly, when Mama
Grace glared at her.

“Then there’s the police investigation of the
burglary.” Lyrissa got up and walked around to the window. “Very
smart thieves. They took five of the most valuable pieces.”

“One of which just happened to be our
painting. What a coincidence!” Mama Grace said, sarcasm dripping
from her voice.

“She’s got a point, Lyrissa. My suspicious
legal mind teds me something is up,” Ebony said.

Lyrissa spun around and looked at Ebony. Her
friend’s skeptical expression said it all. Mama Grace gave a curt
nod. Aunt Claire lifted a shoulder. She wanted to refute the
argument, but couldn’t. She’d thought the same thing more than
once.

“Noel isn’t involved, even if what you’re
thinking is true,” she insisted.

“Your totally objective assessment, of
course,” Ebony said quietly.

“I know him. Noel would fight us face to
face. This kind of sneaky stunt isn’t his style,” Lyrissa said.

“He’s a St. Denis! All charm, but deadly as a
snake.” Mama Grace spoke with conviction. “You’ve got to face the
truth, Lyrissa Michelle.”

“I know his family’s reputation is deserved.”
Lyrissa stared out the window again. “But Noel wouldn’t... either
way, Ebony is right. We should wait.”

“We don’t even know where the painting is,
anyway.” Aunt Claire blinked rapidly as she glanced at them all in
turn.

“That was going to be my next point, Miss
Claire,” Ebony said. “Let’s use the time to make our documentation
damn near irrefutable.” Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t intend to
lose.”

“I’ll go over every piece of paper myself.”
Mama Grace stood. “Come on, Claire.” Sure of her younger sister’s
obedience, she marched out without looking at her.

Aunt Claire rose from the chair slowly. She
walked over to Ebony and pecked her on the cheek. “I know you’ll
kick legal butt.”

Ebony laughed out loud. “Thanks for the vote
of confidence, Auntie Claire.”

“You’re welcome. As for you, sugar,” she went
to Lyrissa and hugged her, “I know how you feel. I hope you’re
right about him. Bye-bye, girls.”

Lyrissa sat on the edge of Ebony’s desk with
her arms folded. Ebony swiveled her captain’s chair slowly back and
forth. Neither woman spoke for a time. They listened to the distant
sound of phones ringing outside Ebony’s door.

“What a mess,” Lyrissa said finally.

“Girl, I don’t like this crap one bit. I’m
getting a bad feeling about the whole thing.” Ebony tapped a black
Cross pen on her yellow legal pad.

“Me, too, Eb.” Lyrissa watched a cloud shaped
like a cotton ball drift across the blue sky. “I’m not going to sit
and wait, though.”

Ebony glanced at her. “What are you going to
do?” Lyrissa looked back at her with a determined smile. “I’m not
sure, but I’m working on it.”

Lyrissa walked beside Noel down one of the
many paved paths in Audubon Park. The sunny morning had turned
cloudy. Neither spoke more than a few words for thirty minutes.
Noel held her hand loosely, a thoughtful frown on his handsome
face. She’d allowed him time to think. Yet her anxiety grew as his
expression became more distracted.

“It might rain. We should have come prepared,
like good scouts.” She tugged at his hand playfully.

“No, we didn’t expect bad weather so
soon.”

“Let’s sit down over here.” Lyrissa pointed
to a bench sheltered under a wide oak.

They strolled over and Noel brushed a few
leaves from the seat. They sat down and Noel gazed out over the
park. Lyrissa knew his mind wasn’t on the view.

“We might as well say it out loud.” Lyrissa
looped her arm around his.

“This whole fight over a painting is way past
crazy,” Noel said.

“I’d suggest we negotiate, but I’m scared to
put our grandmothers in the same room. I can see the headline,
‘Septuagenarians Choke Each Other to Death,’ ” Lyrissa
deadpanned.

“God, yes! All the family secrets are out
there on both sides of this feud.” Noel grew quiet again.

Lyrissa glanced at him. “What?”

Noel turned to her. “I’m proud of my family.
Sure, my relatives, past and present, have done a few things close
to the line. But those stories pretty much label us as
gangsters.”

“You’ve got to admit a lot of it is true.
Most of the stories about Jules are hundred-year-old gossip,”
Lyrissa said defensively.

“At least three women declared him as the
father of their children in court, and what about the copies of his
paintings?” Noel let go of her hand.

“Accusations, not proof,” she replied.

“Gustave St. Denis founded schools for poor
blacks in New Orleans. His grandson helped freed slaves who poured
into this city after the civil war,” he replied in a stiff
tone.

Lyrissa heard his grandmother’s brand of
pride in his voice. She looked at him hard, remembering Mama
Grace’s warnings. “Gustave St. Denis ‘acquired’ a lot of real
estate in a shady fashion. He also supported the Confederate
government in Louisiana. Then, once the Union Army captured the
city, he became a carpetbagger.” “He never truly supported the
Confederacy or slavery. His journals prove that,” Noel said
heatedly.

“So he lied when it suited his needs. Oh, I
almost forgot—he was a founding member of the Astoria Club. They
didn’t admit dark-skinned Blacks. Your parents are members, too.”
Lyrissa arched her eyebrows.

“Those days are gone and you know it,” Noel
snapped. “On the surface, maybe,” Lyrissa shot back.

“Don’t generalize about my friends and
family, damn it.” Noel sat forward with his elbows propped on his
knees. “Talk about being biased!”

They sat next to each other in tense silence.
Lyrissa wondered why one of them didn’t just get up and leave.
Something held her to the bench, an invisible cord that connected
her to him. Yet each angry word sawed away at it. Soon they’d be
hanging on by a slender thread.

“Maybe we should stick to talking about the
weather, after all,” she said finally.