“I’m also looking into your felony conviction.”
That surprised Raoul. I swear, Charmaine has the most interfering family in the whole world. “Who asked you to do that?”
“Charmaine.”
That figures. He glared at Charmaine, who was clearing the table of soiled dishes. She stuck her tongue out at him.
“Well, let me amend that. Charmaine didn’t directly ask me to help you. She just mentioned that you’d been framed. I know a good private investigator. Really good. Are you interested?”
“For sure,” he said, and jotted down the name and number on a nearby pad. “Though I don’t have much cash right now.”
“Use my name for a reference. He owes me.”
“Thanks for your help.”
“One more thing. Charmaine asked me to check out your divorce.”
“Oh?” Immediately he felt as if he had a boulder in his stomach.
“You’re not.”
“I already knew that.” The boulder churned, turning him a little queasy.
“Do you want to be?”
Divorced from Charmaine? “Yes. Sure. Hell, I don’t know.”
“That’s the same thing Charmaine said.”
Hmmm. Now, that is interesting. He glanced over at Charmaine, who was singing “Laughin’ My Way Back to Lafayette” along with Jimmy Newman on the radio and washing dishes in the soapy water of the sink. She kept the beat by rolling her hips from side to side, with an occasional shimmy thrown in. Raoul was pretty sure he was going to have a stroke or something by the time Charmaine left.
If she ever does leave, a voice in his head, or some place, said. He looked toward the front porch, through an open stretch of space between the kitchen, dining room and living room. There he saw a life-sized, plastic statue of St. Jude peering in at him through the window.
He groaned inwardly. Could it be?
Nah.
Wanna bet? the voice said.
He groaned aloud then. I am being attacked from all sides. I do not friggin’ stand a chance.
One ringy-dingy, two ringy-dingy…
Rusty was long gone, and Charmaine had just finished her phone call with Luc when the wall phone rang again.
Should she or shouldn’t she answer it? Rusty had ordered her not to, but then he was probably being overly cautious. On the other hand, Luc had advised her to be careful, too. Not answering a ringing phone bothered her. Maybe she could just pick it up and wait for the other person to speak first. That wouldn’t be so bad, would it? No risk there.
Tentatively, she held the receiver to her ear.
“Hello. Hello. Is someone there? Rusty?”
It was a woman. Charmaine bared her teeth and replied sweetly, “Mr. Lamer is not available right now. Who’s calling?”
“Amelie Ancelet. Dr. Amelie Ancelet. Since when does Rusty have a secretary?”
I’ll give you secretary, Ms. I-am-a-doctor-bigshot. But then the woman’s words sank in. “You’re a physician? What’s wrong? Is Rusty sick? Oh, my God, was there an accident or something and he’s in the emergency room? Did he fall off his horse?”
The woman on the other end laughed. A young laugh. “I’m a veterinarian. A friend of Rusty’s.”
I’ll just bet.
“Who is this, by the way?” the friend asked.
Charmaine took great delight in announcing, “Mrs. Lanier.”
“Huh?”
“Mrs. Rusty Lanier.” Oooh, boy, I am really pathetic, getting my jollies by proclaiming my wifehood. Not that I’m really a wife, but it does come in handy.
“Charmaine?”
Red flags went up in Charmaine’s head. “You know about me?”
“Of course. Rusty talks about you all the time. His famous ex-wife.”
Famous? I can just imagine what he said about me. Well, tit for tat, buddy. I really should not be doing this, but what the hell! “Not so ex, honey.”
“I beg your pardon.”
You very well should be begging my pardon… hitting on a married man. “We’re not divorced.”
There was a telling silence on the line. Friends, indeed!
“Would you tell Rusty that I called? And remind him about the party on Saturday night.” Amelie’s voice was chilly now.
“Sure thing, Amelie. I’ll give my husband the message. Bye-bye.”
Charmaine shook her head at her own juvenile behavior when she hung up the phone. It was only then that she noticed the St. Jude statue on the front porch where she’d placed it yesterday till she could find a place for it. Good ol’ Jude seemed to be watching her through the window. For one brief moment, she thought she heard the statue speak to her. “Tsk-tsk-tsk,” it said.