What Happened on Beale Street Page 10

  A lightbulb illuminated in Nate’s head. “Was Danny Andre a counselor here?”

  Wallace watched Nate from the corner of his eye, apparently gaining his own insight. “Danny the friend you’re so curious about?”

  “Yeah, and now he’s dead. I want to talk to someone who knew him. Is that how Danny helped out?”

  “Danny was a great mentor, the best one I ever met who hadn’t walked the road himself.” Wallace rolled up one sleeve to reveal well-healed needle marks. He waited until Nate nodded with comprehension before pulling down his sleeve. “When Danny took someone under his wing, he stayed with them until they were clean. Night and day, for better or for worse, if you catch my drift, no matter how long it took.”

  “Danny was a stand-up guy.” Emotion welled up Nate’s throat upon hearing the former addict’s respect for his old friend. “Did Danny meet Tito Sullivan here?”

  Wallace nodded. “Yep. Just one of his many success stories.”

  “Does Sullivan volunteer now that he’s clean?”

  “Man, you are clueless. Sullivan may be clean, but if he starts hanging around those still on smack, he’ll fall off the wagon for sure. If he ain’t already using now that Danny’s dead.” Wallace made a point of looking at this watch. “Either you start cooking us a pot of chow or move along. I gotta get one of these boys busy or there’ll be a revolt.”

  Nate jumped to his feet. “I appreciate your time, Wallace. One more question. What’s the name of this place? I couldn’t find your sign.”

  “The name is New Horizons. Those who need us find the way. Advertising usually brings nothing but trouble.”

  Halfway to the door, Nate broke his promise of only one more question. “Do you think Mr. Fuentes will be back tomorrow?”

  “No idea. This is the first time he’s been gone more than a day in the five years I’ve been here.” With that, Wallace disappeared through the swinging doors.

  Nate glanced at the recovering addicts, whose focus hadn’t budged from the game show they were watching, and then walked out the door to the stairs to the street. He was halfway back to his car when his phone rang. Caller ID indicated Detective Marino.

  “You’ll be happy to know we collared Sullivan last night.” The detective said in lieu of a greeting. “He’s in a holding cell waiting for a public defender before we question him. He lawyered up. Here I’d been counting on a full confession.” Chip laughed with animation.

  “Last night?” asked Nate. “I was expecting you Tuesday night. I sat there in the shadows all alone and came back last night until it started to pour. ”

  “You gave up too soon. Sullivan showed around three o’clock in the morning. And you ain’t the only name on my dance card, old buddy. I thought you would be thrilled.”

  “Yeah, I am, Chip. Thanks for letting me know.”

  “You’re welcome. I gotta take another call, but stay in touch, okay?”

  Marino clicked off, leaving Nate with plenty of questions, surprisingly little satisfaction, and no thrill whatsoever.

  ELEVEN

  Following a sleepless night, hours of time wasted on paperwork, two fruitless sales appointments, and a depressing stop at the funeral home for final arrangements, Isabelle was desperate to go somewhere after work. With Danny gone and her remaining family still in Natchez, she regretted never taking the time to make friends in Memphis or Germantown. Maybe it was her dearth of girlfriends that led Isabelle to the Carlton late that afternoon. It was a long shot, but she hoped Nicki was back from wherever Danny’s case had sent her. If not, she would sit in the lobby and wait, all night if necessary. Just so she didn’t have to go home yet.

  Isabelle pulled up to the curb just as a minivan drove away, vacating a spot with nearly an hour left on the meter. Even more fortuitous, Nicki was pacing the sidewalk in front of the hotel, punching numbers on her cell phone.

  “Nicki,” Isabelle called, climbing out of her car during a break in traffic. “You are a sight for sore eyes.”

  “Isabelle? What on earth are you doing at the Carlton? Did something happen?” Nicki slipped her phone in her pocket, her face clouding with concern.

  Isabelle mustered a brave smile. “You go first. Tell me why you’re patrolling the street at rush hour on a Thursday afternoon.”

  Nicki released a screech of exasperation. “That stupid rental agency has kept me dancing on a string for hours, ruining my plans to visit my new friend Henry at his assisted-living center. At first the manager refused to rent me a car without a personal credit card. So I told him I had a company card for Price Investigations. But when the guy came to drop off the car, he wouldn’t give me the keys without Nate’s signature. Then he drove away with my Buick.”

  “Why would Nate have to cosign your rental agreement? You’re over twenty-five.” Isabelle jumped back as a bus splashed water onto the sidewalk.

  “Because Nate’s name is on the card. I just made partner recently, but I haven’t had trouble using it until today.” She rolled her huge brown eyes. “That’s what I get for letting either Nate or Hunter make arrangements for me.”

  Isabelle hooked her arm through Nicki’s elbow. “Let’s go have a cup of coffee and formulate a plan. You look ready to punch someone’s nose, and that’s never a good thing.”

  Once they were seated with steaming mugs before them, Nicki’s tense posture relaxed. “Thanks, Izzy. You were right. I was overreacting to a situation easily remedied. Either Nate will sign for the car in the morning or Hunter can when he flies up tomorrow afternoon.” She took a long swallow of her coffee.

  Isabelle’s anxiety ebbed as well as she focused on someone else’s life. “Tell me about this mysterious fiancé of yours. Have you been dating a long time?”

  “A little over six months, but it was pretty much love at first sight for us. Hunter was my client, so I fought romantic notions for as long as possible. He was a murder suspect. By the time I knew he didn’t do it, I was head-over-heels.” Nicki ducked her head to hide her embarrassment. “It will make more sense after you meet him.”

  “You’re engaged to a former murder suspect? I can’t wait to hear the details.” Isabelle refilled their cups from the silver carafe on the table.

  Nicki happily complied, her irritation with the rental company forgotten. She launched into a complex saga of a dead business partner, a broken engagement, a conniving ex-fiancée, and a father who would do anything for his daughter. When Nicki finished her story, Isabelle still had many questions, but she was certain of one thing. Nicki was engaged to a nice man who loved her very much. And that conclusion filled Isabelle with envy.

  She swallowed down her shameful feelings. “Have you set a wedding date?”

  “Not yet. We’ll sit down to work out the details once Hunter finishes his court testimony and I’m back in New Orleans. But watch your mailbox for an invitation.”

  “I’ll start looking for a dress right away.”

  Nicki reached for Isabelle’s hand, her exuberance fading. “You didn’t drive here after work to hear about my wedding plans. Tell me what happened, Izzy. I’m sorry I ran away with the ball.”

  “Honestly, I’m glad you did.” She glanced everywhere but at her friend. “I just didn’t want to go home until I told someone about last night.”

  “Here I am, ready to shut up and let you talk.”

  Now that the floor was hers, Isabelle’s words stuck in her throat like a chicken bone. If the adage “misery loves company” was true, maybe people with disastrous lives didn’t like to share with those with hopeful futures. Disaster was the only way to describe her recent sales record, her failed marriage, and her every attempt at dating. Underneath it all lay the niggling conviction she might be responsible for her brother’s death.

  “First on the agenda, the medical examiner released Danny’s body to the funeral home. The… ” Her voice cracked just saying the word. “The… undertaker thought a closed casket would be best, but I insisted on one hour of viewing befor
e the service. I thought you’d like to see Danny in better circumstances than on the banks of the Mississippi.” Tears streamed down her face. “The funeral will be at ten o’clock at Germantown’s United Methodist on Saturday. Will that be all right?”

  Nicki chewed on her lower lip, gripping her coffee mug tightly. “Thanks. I would like to see him. And Saturday is perfect since Hunter will be here. If there’s anything I can do, say the word.”

  “Perhaps Hunter could be a pallbearer? I’m not sure who will come to the funeral.” She wiped her face with a napkin.

  “Done. He will be honored.” Nicki sat quietly for a while and then squeezed her hand. “Go on, Izzy. I know something else has you spooked other than funeral arrangements. What happened last night?”

  Isabelle stared at her hands. “Those neighborhood kids were up to mischief again.”

  “What kids?” Nicki set down her mug. “Do you mean someone threw more blood on your balcony?”

  “We still don’t know if that was actual blood. I don’t have the results from Germantown Police yet. At any rate, no blood. This time someone left a cemetery wreath on my balcony. Two dozen red roses along with ribbons that said ‘Dearly Beloved’ and ‘We’ll miss you.’ They trailed dead flower petals to my sliding door like bread crumbs in Hansel and Gretel.”

  Nicki’s eyes were round as an owl’s. “Was someone inside your apartment?”

  “Not that I could tell. I think someone climbed to the balcony, which would be no easy feat.” Isabelle tore her napkin into shreds. “Would you come to my apartment and take a look? Maybe it’s not teenage vandalism. If this is retaliation from a bad date, then it could be related to my brother’s murder. I… I may be the reason why Danny’s dead.”

  Nicki grabbed her arm and shook it hard. “That’s ridiculous. The only one responsible is the thug who injected Danny with heroin. Nobody else.” She pulled out her cell phone. “I’ll call Nate and ask him to meet us there.”

  Isabelle grabbed the phone from Nicki’s hand. “No. Can’t you just look into this?”

  “No, I can’t. I’m sorry, but Nate’s the PI on this case. I’ve been demoted to background checks and behind-the-scenes work. Maybe you should tell me why you don’t like my cousin.”

  Her fingers curled around the wad of shredded paper. “It’s not that I don’t like him, but every time we’re in the same room I manage to insult him without provocation. If he described me as rude and arrogant, I couldn’t disagree.”

  “I get that you rub each other the wrong way, but Nate’s a good investigator—the best in Louisiana or Mississippi. He needs to see this wreath and check your building’s security system. He’ll get the results of the blood DNA quicker too. In the meantime, you should move to the Carlton until Danny’s killer is caught. Also until we can prove Tony Markham is behind those terrible things on your balcony. For all we know, the killer and Tony are one and the same.”

  Isabelle shook her head. She’d checked the rates after Nicki mentioned where she was staying. With taxes and parking, even a few nights would equal a month’s rent on her condo. “This is definitely out of my price range.”

  “I mean stay in my suite. Goodness, there’s enough room for both of us. I could be your bodyguard and still be out of Nate’s way.”

  Isabelle smiled at a friend she didn’t deserve. “I see why my brother adored you. You really are a nice person.”

  “Danny also liked salamanders and snapping turtles, so his judgment can’t be trusted. Will you come stay with me?”

  “No thanks, Nicki. Tomorrow your fiancée will arrive. Won’t he be sleeping on your sofa?”

  “Absolutely not. He’ll sleep in Nate’s room.”

  “Well, I have a fat calico who needs me, so I’ll stay in Germantown. I appreciate the offer, though.”

  “All right, but you need to swallow your pride and work with Nate. If you give him a chance, I know he can get to the bottom of this. Trust my judgment. He’s a nice person too.”

  Isabelle drained her mug and pulled the business card from her blazer pocket. Without another word, she punched in Nate’s number. When he picked up on the third ring, she cleared her throat. “Hello, Mr. Price? Isabelle Andre. At the moment, I’m having coffee with Nicki at the Carlton, but there’s something I would like you to see. Do you have time this evening to meet me at my condo?” She held her breath and waited.

  “I’m two blocks away at a red light, so I can follow you back to Germantown. Please tell my cousin she’s to find out everything she can about the New Horizons Outreach Center. It’s in the basement of First Baptist on Fifteenth Street. And ask her to do a background check on Carl Fuentes, same address as the center. That’s where Danny met Tito Sullivan. Danny mentored addicts recovering from both drugs and alcohol.”

  Isabelle jotted names on her napkin while exchanging glances with Nicki. “Danny was a sobriety mentor?”

  “You weren’t aware of this?”

  “Unfortunately, I assumed my brother slept all day when he wasn’t playing music in bars. I didn’t know the extent of his humanitarian nature.”

  “Families are complicated. I’m not here to judge, Miss Andre. Tell Nicki to watch for the name Wallace in connection to the shelter too. Not sure if it’s a first or last name.”

  “I’ll give her your message. How soon will you be here?” Isabelle passed the napkin filled with notes to Nicki.

  “I’m double-parked next to your green Prius as we speak. When you’re finished with my cousin, I’m at your disposal.”

  Isabelle flushed for no apparent reason as she said goodbye and ended the call. She looked at Nicki. “Nate’s already outside, and I don’t want to keep him waiting. This is the name of the outreach center he wants you to check out, along with Carl Fuentes and someone named Wallace. Could you use this for our coffee?” Isabelle pulled a ten from her wallet and then impulsively kissed Nicki’s cheek. “Thanks for being here for me.”

  Nate waited until the dressed-for-success Realtor buckled her seat belt and pulled into traffic before falling in behind her. Isabelle drove like a little old lady. Or maybe she didn’t think he could keep up with her in traffic. She seemed to have zero confidence in any of his abilities. At the next red light, he punched in Nicki’s number.

  “I’m not even back to my room, boss. Stop bugging me. I’ll check out the names you gave me, but I need a little time.” Nicki sounded like her normal, sassy self.

  “That’s not why I called. I want to know why Miss Andre came to the Carlton and why she called me. I don’t like walking into situations blind.”

  “She was afraid to go home alone. More trouble at her condo last night. These aren’t out-of-season Halloween pranks, Nate. Somebody is stalking her.”

  “And she wanted you to investigate.” He didn’t hide his pique.

  “Well, I am a PI and licensed to carry a gun, but don’t get your underwear in a twist. I told her to call you since this might be related to Danny’s murder.”

  “Marino arrested Tito Sullivan last night, so he’ll be in custody for at least the next forty-eight hours. I just found out this afternoon.”

  “That’s good news, no?” Nicki didn’t sound convinced.

  “We’ll see. Sullivan may have a rock solid alibi for all we know. Right now, tell me about Isabelle.”

  “Somebody left dead flowers from a grave on her balcony. Pretty icky, don’t you think? One ribbon said ‘We’ll miss you.’ ”

  Rage surged up Nate’s spine. He closed the distance between his car and Isabelle’s. “That sounds like a threat to me. I’ll call the Germantown PD and have them meet us there. We’ll need police reports to substantiate future restraining orders or to get an arrest warrant on stalking charges. Why don’t you dig up everything you can about this Tony Markham too?”

  “You got it, but this could take all night. Better bring back a deluxe pizza, double cheese.”

  “When does Hunter arrive? Does he need me to pick him up at the airport?”<
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  “Tomorrow after six, but he insists on a taxi. I’m so glad he’ll be here for Danny’s funeral. It’s set for Saturday at ten at Germantown United Methodist.”

  “Good to know. Miss Andre already asked me to be a pallbearer. I’m glad Hunter can serve instead of a skinny girl like you.” Nate expected Nicki to rail against the description, but she didn’t. Discussing her best friend’s funeral didn’t bring out her sparring nature.

  “Hunter won’t mind at all. Good thing I brought a dress along. Do you think navy will be okay? I don’t own any black.”

  “I’m sure navy will be fine. Gotta go, Nic. Miss Andre is getting on the expressway and traffic is heavy.” He disconnected the call to make sure Isabelle never left his sight.

  When they arrived at her condo, Nate parked in a guest slot and followed her to a three-story building. In the elevator she seemed nervous, but considering his own clammy palms he wasn’t surprised. It took more than one attempt before her key turned in the lock.

  “Sorry. I’m more flustered than I thought,” she said when the door finally swung open.

  “Who wouldn’t be?” Nate stepped into her meticulous living room. There wasn’t a stack of old magazines, unread junk mail, or empty pizza boxes in sight. Every time he visited someone else’s home, he always walked around with a trash bag the moment he returned to his. An overweight cat bumped against his leg, startling him. “Who are you, little missy?” Nate said as he reached down to scratch the feline’s head.

  “That’s Chester. You’re the first male he’s ever approached.” Isabelle rubbed her forearms as though cold.

  “I have that effect on children and small animals. It’s big people who run in the opposite direction from me.” Nate had no idea what triggered the confession, but when he looked at Isabelle, she held his gaze for several seconds.

  “Why don’t I show you to the latest addition to my balcony?” She crossed the room to the slider and opened the drapes.

  The sight of the morbid decoration turned Nate’s blood cold. “Did you handle the wreath or touch the railing? The police will want to dust for fingerprints.”