A Dark Horse Read online

  Adele clicked a small table lamp to its lowest setting.

  Natalie seemed to collect herself, though her cheeks had already turned a lovely pink. Her gaze captured Adele’s and held it. “Anyone would love them. They’re beautiful,” she said, her voice ringing with heartfelt candor.

  Adele was the first to look away. “I appreciate that…thanks.”

  Natalie glanced down to see Adele’s bright coral-colored toenails. “Cute. I’m not sure how early you get up to go to the station, but it doesn’t look like you’re dressed for work.”

  “Nah.” Adele sat heavily on the sofa and gestured for Natalie to take a seat as well.

  And Natalie did, but at the far end of the sofa rather than the highboy from the afternoon before.

  Ignoring years of lectures on manners, Adele kicked her feet up on the coffee table. “I was on vacation yesterday and will be for the next few days. So only the most comfy clothes for me. Although I might manage to dress up a bit more than my pajamas.”

  Adele chewed on her bottom lip when Natalie didn’t answer. She’d invited Natalie here on a whim, something she’d never done before, because as much as she dreaded it, she knew they needed to talk and she didn’t want to do it at the station or in public. But now she was starting to wonder whether this was a mistake. “I hope this isn’t weird.”

  “You should have woken me up so I could go to a hotel,” Natalie accused without any heat in her voice.

  “Why? We all needed some rest, and we got it. There was no reason to disrupt that by moving you to a hotel, unless you really wanted a mint on your pillow?”

  The corner of Natalie’s mouth curled upward just a hair. But she was clearly too sad to do much more. “I didn’t.”

  “Good.”

  “But as far as being weird,” Natalie raised a disbelieving eyebrow, “you spent the day picking me up at the airport, comforting me, holding my hand in the morgue, and watching me barf and bawl. And the entire time you could have been at home with a good book or parked in front of the television? That is the very definition of weird, Detective.”

  Adele burst out laughing but covered her mouth quickly when she remembered why Natalie was here in the first place, and that she might wake her son.

  Natalie’s smile trembled. “It’s okay. Don’t stop yourself from laughing.” She sighed. “It sounds really nice. And that’s not weird. It makes me feel…good, I guess. It’s good to know that someone is on my side in all this.”

  Thoughts of Landry, Crisco, Josh and Officer Morrell along with a heaping ladle of guilt crashed together in Adele’s mind and mixed toxically with Natalie’s words. She suddenly felt ill. Looking away, Adele set her cup down and began to get up. “I should have asked. How do you take your tea? Milk or honey or—?”

  Natalie waved her back down. “This is fine.” After a small sip, she looked for a plate or coaster or even a book to set the cup on.

  “Just put it right on the table. I’d rather get it refinished every few years than worry about coasters. Besides, Logan uses the table to play cars on, so it’s already under severe abuse.” She drew her finger along several prominent scratches that somehow didn’t distract in the least from the wood’s natural beauty.

  “Where is he?” Natalie glanced around warily as if expecting the preschooler to come barreling out from behind a piece of furniture at any minute.

  “Sleeping.”

  “Ah…of course.”

  Seconds ticked by, and Adele couldn’t think of anything else to say. She didn’t want to talk about Josh’s case yet, but it loomed so large in her mind that it was hard to focus on anything else. For the moment, however, Natalie didn’t seem to be in a rush to get to the hard stuff and needed a distraction.

  Natalie tilted her head to the side and regarded Adele curiously. “You’ve grown out your hair.”

  Surprised that she’d noticed, Adele’s dimples made an appearance. “I cut it short when Logan was born, but I,” she paused, “and by I, I mean mostly my husband, missed the length. So I’ve been trying to leave it alone for the past couple of years.” She ran a hand through the blond hair naturally flecked with gold and light brown strands. “It’s been hell. I’ve nearly cut it all off again about a dozen times, but now that it can go comfortably into a ponytail that doesn’t look like a three-year-old’s pigtail, I think I’m finally past the danger zone. I think.”

  Natalie nodded knowingly, then made a face. “Been there, done that. I cut mine into a short and highly disastrous shag during undergrad, and it took four years to get it back to the way I wanted it. If I ever cut it off that short again, it’s staying off. I don’t have the fortitude to grow it out anymore. Was yours always this wavy?”

  “Nah. The waves come mostly with the length.”

  Natalie absently drew her finger along the lip of her cup. “It’s nice, Detective.”

  “Thanks.” Adele shifted uncomfortably.

  “You were right.”

  “About what?”

  Natalie scrunched up her nose apologetically. “This is weird.”

  Adele released her words on a single rushed exhale. “Thank God you think so too! I thought it was just me.”

  “Ah…no.”

  Their laughter mingled together softly and they relaxed a tiny bit more. Adele let her gaze sweep over Natalie and she felt an unexpected rush of protectiveness and warmth. She honestly liked her. But there was so much about Natalie that she’d forgotten. She hadn’t remembered that Natalie’s face could transform into something that could stop traffic when she laughed, or that her jawline was so sculpted and strong, or that her eyes, especially when shiny with tears, were such an intriguing shade of light blue.

  “Detective—”

  Caught zoning out and staring, Adele snapped to attention. “Oh, Lord, wait. I can finally say this.” She didn’t think she needed to mention it was because she was no longer working her brother’s case. “Please call me Ella. My mother calls me Adele, but everyone else calls me Ella. And you’ve been killing me with the constant ‘Detective, Detective, Detective,’ ever since you insisted that I call you Natalie. Fair is fair.”

  “Okay,” Natalie said, her voice still raspy from a day and night spent in tears. “I guess I know how you feel. Try having students only a few years younger than you, or someone who is older, calling you ‘professor’ all day long. Ugh. When I first started teaching I felt like such a poser.”

  “But you really are a professor, not a poser.”

  Natalie shrugged one shoulder. “It just all seemed so stuffy and formal, like a kid dressing in her mother’s clothes and trying to be a grown-up. Giving me the title didn’t make me feel like one of them.” She tilted her head from side to side. “Though I guess I did get used to it, eventually.”

  “That much school must have taken forever. Your folks must be so proud of you.”

  Natalie’s expression flattened, but tears still leapt into her eyes. “I suppose.”

  Aww, shit. Mentioning Natalie’s parents when she still had to call them about Josh’s death was stupid. Adele wanted desperately to fix her blunder, but Natalie’s voice cut into her thoughts before she had the chance.

  “What about you? College?” Natalie asked carefully, as though she didn’t want to insult Adele in case she hadn’t gone to college at all, but was dying to shift attention away from herself.

  Adele couldn’t blame Natalie for being wary. But rotten cops like Officer Jay Morrell notwithstanding, things in New Orleans were changing faster than television shows intent on focusing on voodoo, racism, and poverty led people to believe. Even the cops could be educated. “I went to Tulane and have a BA in philosophy and a master’s in social work.”

  Natalie let out a low whistle, misty eyes round and appreciative. “Wow. Those are challenging degrees.” A sniff. “Your parents must be proud.”

  “They are proud, I think. It took a while for them to get used to the fact that I’m a cop, when everyone else in the family som
ehow works in retail. But they did, even though I’m the odd duck.”

  They both stopped talking for a moment and took sips of their tea. And this time the silence wasn’t as awkward.

  It felt, Adele realized, surprisingly good to truly start to get to know one another. It reminded her that she needed to work fewer hours, not just for Logan or Landry, but also for herself. It had been far too long since she’d made a real friend.

  Natalie wrapped her slender fingers around the cup that was almost too hot to hold that way. “Being able to call you Ella makes one thing much nicer for me.”

  “It’s got less syllables?”

  “It makes it easier to really say thanks,” Natalie corrected mildly.

  Adele’s smile slipped away. “No. It’s not—”

  The look on Natalie’s face was incredulous. It not only silently asked Adele whether she was for real, it stopped her cold. “You’re not going to try to actually stop me from thanking you,” Natalie said unequivocally.

  The corner of Adele’s mouth twitched at Natalie’s boldness. She crossed her legs, one bare foot dangling. “Was that a question?”

  “Not really.” Natalie’s eyes flashed with resolve. “I know you haven’t met them, but this is coming from my parents too. Thank you, Ella, for everything you’ve done. And I don’t care what you say, you helped far more than was required by your job.”

  Natalie gestured at the room around them. “Here I am taking yet another one of your days off, drinking tea that you made for me, and sitting in your living room at the crack…no pre-crack of dawn.” Natalie shook her head and spoke with utter conviction. “Ella has been the one helping me, not just Detective Lejeune, and for that I am deeply and profoundly grateful.”

  Adele’s throat tightened and tears pricked the back of her eyes. Yes, she’d tried to be kind. But she hadn’t helped Natalie or her family. Not really. She hadn’t found Josh until it was far too late. Now to make matters worse, she was nothing less than a coward for not officially reporting or even arresting Morrell. But how could she do that now with Natalie looking at her like she was some sort of damned savior?

  “I know you feel badly that you didn’t find Josh before now.”

  Adele’s eyes widened.

  Natalie gave her a knowing look. “You’re not that hard to read. Even though I’m far better with words than feelings.” She sighed. “Not finding Josh wasn’t your fault.”

  That was empirically true. The problem was it didn’t make Adele feel better or even less frustrated. For months, when she was between other active cases and even when she wasn’t, she’d followed up on Josh. But nothing had worked. “I really tried.”

  “I really believe you.”

  Adele’s mouth was too dry to swallow, and she forced herself to finish the last of her tea, ignoring the fact that it was still a bit too warm to drink so quickly.

  “Hey.” Natalie moved closer, not stopping until their thighs were touching. She set her cup on the table, her entire focus on the detective. Natalie lifted a hand, and for a second Adele thought she was going to cup her cheek. But her hand fell away before she made contact. “Are you okay?”

  Adele rubbed her eyes. “I think I’m just overly tired.”

  “Then you should go back to bed.” A frown flitted across Natalie’s face and she moved to stand. “I can call a cab and—”

  Adele grabbed both of Natalie’s hands to stop her. “I didn’t say I was tired of you. But I’m beat.” That was an understatement. The day before her tank had been utterly and completely empty and Adele was only slightly better now. She knew it was playing hell on her emotions. “And I know you’re beat too.”

  Natalie tilted her head in acknowledgment. “I’ve cried more in the past twenty-four hours than I have in my entire life. Even after twelve hours of sleep, I’m not still just tired, I’m exhausted.”

  “So let me help you by telling you what I know. Then you can get some real rest without any more wondering. You’ve wanted to ask me more about Josh since the morgue.” She squeezed Natalie’s hands in encouragement. “Ask.”

  “Okay, Ella.” Natalie’s eyes closed for a second before she reopened them and soldiered on. “Who killed my brother?”

  Adele was anxious and relieved at the same time. “We think it was a man named Crisco…I mean, Otis Etienne. He’s a fifty-five-year-old, homeless alcoholic, no family, and no job. He sometimes hangs out on street corners, begging drivers for spare change. He’s lived in abandoned buildings or under the overpasses for years and years.”

  “Why d-do you think he did it?”

  “He was found passed out near your brother and in possession of the murder weapon. And…” Adele’s voice petered out before she was done.

  Natalie waited, but when it became clear Adele wasn’t going to continue she prompted her. “And?”

  Detective Lejeune, not Adele, squared her shoulders and chose her words with extreme care. She spoke as though she was on the witness stand. “And the arresting officer and homicide detective assigned to the crime, who happens to be Landry, both obtained confessions.”

  Natalie let out a groan of relief. “You caught him and he confessed! That’s wonderful!” She pulled Adele into a bone-crushing hug that seemed to surprise them both. “This is going to make things easier for my parents.” Natalie’s lips were pressed so close to Adele’s ear that when she spoke Adele shivered. “It won’t bring back Josh, but just knowing that the man who did this to him is going to be punished will help.”

  Adele closed her eyes and took in an unsteady breath full of Natalie’s light floral perfume, trying not to feel the guilt that was coiled around her chest like a boa constrictor. Landry was right. Natalie and her family did deserve justice. And she was selfish for considering any action that would deny them that.

  Natalie gave Adele a firm squeeze, her hands blazing hot against the thin cloth covering Adele’s back. Adele barely resisted the overwhelming desire to melt into the embrace. This was the divine comfort she’d so desperately needed the night before, only from the entirely wrong person.

  Both women pulled away at the exact same second.

  With a self-conscious look, Natalie moved a little farther back down the sofa.

  Adele licked her lips, grateful for the space to breathe. She wished she had some tea left in her cup to distract her. “I didn’t catch the suspect, but I was there when he was arrested.”

  Tears stung Natalie’s eyes for the umpteenth time since that morning and she wiped at them futilely with the back of her hands. “Why did he kill Josh?”

  Seeing pain painted in stark colors across Natalie’s face made Adele want to hug her all over again. The urge was nearly irresistible. “We’re unclear on that.” She wished she’d remembered to bring more Kleenex along with the tea. The top of Natalie’s blouse was soaked with tears, and she looked more than miserable.

  “It could have been a robbery and then a fight over that,” Adele continued. “Or maybe just a fight. The suspect is being released from the hospital today or tomorrow and then he’ll go into a cell. The police will also question him again, maybe more than once. So unless he refuses to cooperate, we’ll get more information soon. His time in the hospital will delay the upcoming deadline for his arraignment, but that will happen within the next few days too.”

  “Hospital?”

  Adele’s skin began to crawl. Tell her. She opened her mouth but nothing came out.

  Confused, Natalie searched the detective’s face. “Did Joshua do something wrong? Did he attack the man first and that’s why they fought?”

  Adele sat on her hands, her heart sinking. She was making everything worse. “Don’t think that, please. The investigation has just started, but we have no reason to believe Josh did anything wrong at all. He was just unlucky.”

  An unhappy, vertical crease in Natalie’s forehead eased. “Then why is the suspect in the hospital?”

  “The suspect, Crisco, was injured while resisting arrest.�
� It was out before she could stop herself. The first outright lie.

  “Serves him right,” Natalie said bitterly, her face suddenly granite. “No matter how badly he was hurt at least he’s still alive. He must also be a stupid murderer if he actually fought the cops.”

  Adele’s tone was dull. “Right.”

  “So what happens now? You said an arraignment?”

  “Yes. Crisco will go before a judge and plead guilty or not guilty.”

  Natalie’s eyes clouded over with a look that said her sharp mind was going a mile a minute. “But he confessed so he’ll plead guilty, right? If he was going to make the state prove their case, there would be no reason at all to confess.”

  “Right.” Lie number two. This is what drowning feels like.

  “Can I be in court for the arraignment? To watch?”

  Adele nodded reluctantly. “You can. But you don’t need to be. He’ll plead guilty, and then the judge will set a date for sentencing in a few weeks or so. You won’t miss much if you go home.” Please, Natalie. Go home. “Your job—”

  Natalie dismissed the idea abruptly. “A teaching assistant can fill in for me while I’m gone. I’m in no shape to work and this is more important.” She had to take a few breaths before continuing. “That man murdered my baby brother.” Her words were like broken glass, causing her to bleed right before Adele’s eyes. “I want to see him. I need to see him and to feel sure that he’s going to go to jail for a very long time. Forever.”

  “Okay,” Adele rasped, her expression pained.

  The anger melted away from Natalie’s eyes and her demeanor softened. “You look as wrung out as I feel. I should go.”

  Adele pinned Natalie with an intense look. “Nuh-uh. You should stay. The hotels will still be there tomorrow. Or the day after. In fact, stay here until you go home. I’d like it if you stayed here.”