A Masquerade of Saints (Saints Mystery Series Book 3) Read online

  She handed me a rusted key and told me to use the side door. I waved to Claudia as I walked past the car to the garage. There was a light switch just inside the door that illuminated the room with a florescent glow. The lamps hung from low rafters. The garage held two John Deere mowers, weed whackers and a gator utility cart. At the back of the room was a workbench covered in cans and sprayers. I thought that might be what Carmen meant by a desk and moved the cans around, looked under the table and turned up empty. I walked along the back wall to a door that looked like a closet. Inside was a neat office lined with filing cabinets. In the center of the room was a brown metallic desk with a duct taped brown chair. The top of the desk looked peculiar. There was a rectangular shaped patch of paint in the center, which was darker than the rest of the paint. It was as if something used to occupy that space that wasn’t there anymore. A desk calendar immediately came to my mind.

  I opened the center drawer and found the address book. It had a green cover and gold writing. I had just got it opened when I heard the door at the front of the garage open and slam shut.

  “Get the hell out!” Carmen yelled.

  I pulled the address book from the drawer and placed my finger in the “B” section, ready to turn the page, when Carmen started for me.

  I got the page open and started running my finger down the page, before I could read any of the names she reached forward and slammed the book shut on my hand and grabbed my arm.

  “Get off of my property,” she said. “I called Remy. He told me you weren’t no friend. He said you got him fired from his job at the Hadley House.”

  “I didn’t,” I protested. “We left on good terms.”

  She pointed to the door and told me to leave. On my way out I noticed a set of high windows along the wall by the door. The center one did not have a latch.

  I was walking slowly trying to look for a security system when Carmen came up behind me and pushed me out the door. As soon as she got me out she locked the handle. I stayed a few steps away from her and said, “Carmen, really, I didn’t know I got Remy fired. Please tell him I’m sorry.”

  She ignored me and I got back in the car.

  Practice makes perfect

  I told Claudia what happened on the drive back to my house. She was as baffled as I was.

  “You want to look into it more tomorrow? Me and Isobel are free as birds in the morning,” she said.

  “Not tomorrow. I have to play piano at the hospital with the choir and then start practicing hymns for Sunday. Hopefully Maurice will come through with my piano.”

  “He will. What are you doing tonight? I’m thinking about playing a game of Bourre down at my cousin’s house on St. Charles.”

  “I have my first practice tonight with the choir and then…” I trailed off not wanting to finish the sentence.

  “And then you’re going to break into that garage and get your information.”

  “Well of course that,” I said. “But that was not what I was thinking about. I wasn’t going to tell you what else I’m up to. But those boys probably will if I don't. Beau is coming into town for Mardi Gras. He said he would be here tonight.”

  “Oh, I see,” she said and smiled slyly at me. “You two have fun committing petty larceny together.”

  “That is the only sin we will be committing together if you are insinuating more.”

  “I ain’t one to judge,” she said. “Look in the back seat. Baby girl is four months old and I only been married nine months.”

  “Well there is nothing like that between Beau and me. I’m still talking to the police officer that worked on Josephine’s case. He’s really… different.”

  She pulled up to my house and put the car in park. “Let’s get my cables out of the trunk and give your car a jump.”

  She handed me her cables after I popped the hood on my car. We stood for a few moments letting her car give my battery a charge. It started back up with no problems.

  I took the cables off and handed them back to Claudia while I let the engine run.

  “See that,” she said. “I gave you a jump because I’m in Louisiana. That’s something no cop in New York can do for you right now. But I bet Beau would be willing to give you a jump if you needed it.”

  I shook my head at her and involuntarily laughed, “That sounds filthy Claudia.”

  “It’s Mardi Gras, sweetie pie. As good a time as ever for things to be filthy. And if you and Beau are looking for a place to watch the parades you come down to my cousin’s house. She has a balcony, and she’s having people over every night.”

  My furniture was delivered that afternoon and it looked perfect. The wood of the dresser and the bed perfectly matched the wood of the window seat and the crown molding in my bedroom. The piano had a dark crackle finish, which shined by the light of the window. No sooner had the piano arrived then a tuner came to make sure it was properly set up.

  While the tuner worked on the piano I unpacked and made my bed. The finished room, with the new dresser, nightstand and piano was perfect. I decided Claudia had a magical ability to picture things in a way that others couldn’t. In a matter of minutes she had perfectly decorated my bedroom.

  I hopped on the bed and was happy to find it soft and cozy. The tuner tipped his cap to me after he had finished and left a card on the piano. He never said a word.

  After he was gone I put my music from the pastor on the piano and started on the choir songs. I had played most of them before. I went through them each twice, just enough to knock the cobwebs out of my fingers.

  When I was done I closed up the piano and noticed two nails on the wall over the instrument. I decided they would be good place to put my Mardi Gras masks, one a silver sun and the other a bright golden moon. The two complimentary masks were something Josephine and I had splurged on several years ago. They were not ordinary plastic masks coated in glitter that you could buy in any tourist shop. They were Venetian masks with elaborate pattern work. The webbing over the cheeks looked like lace but was really intricate metal work, executed so perfectly it looked like flowing fabric. The sparkle on the masks was from hand placed Swarovski crystals.

  I went to the church that night for my first practice with the choir, and I was convinced the choir matron Donna hated me. She looked over my shoulder the entire time I played and tapped her hand on the instrument to a rhythm not in time with mine. At the end of the night she said, "Just play the notes as written on the page. I’ll bring the energy."

  I drove home from the practice annoyed. I knew I could have played better if she would have backed off. I thought about her until I was halfway home, and then I turned my thoughts to Beau. I knew he would be waiting at the house for me, and I wondered how he would react to my plans.

  When I was a block away from home I called him.

  “You up for some trouble?” I asked.

  “Always,” he replied.

  “Good. Meet me outside in ten minutes.”

  I drove by the house and honked the horn. Beau ran out with a beer in his hand and jumped in the car.

  “Shit, I like those guys you livin’ with. They is fun as all get out. Let me know if one of ‘em gets arrested and opens up another room?”

  “Is that what happened to the last roommate? Did he get arrested?” I asked.

  “Yup, three to five for assault,” he said. “So what sort of trouble we getting into tonight? Three to five sort of trouble?”

  “More like community service or a fine, as I’m a first offender,” I replied.

  “You serious?” Beau asked. Without answering I revved the engine and headed in the direction of Carmen’s house.

  When we got to her neighborhood I told him what had happened when I tried to get the book earlier in the day. After hearing what had happened, he was happy to be my accomplice, though he said he could only be a lookout. He had gotten more cautious now that he had his job at the parish police station.

  We pulled up to the house, which was lit up in ever
y room. Carmen was definitely home. I asked Beau to stay in the front and smoke a cigarette while I went to the back. If he saw anybody coming he was supposed to cough as loud as he could.

  He lit up his cigarette, and I started for the garage. I got close to the house and stayed low, walking by the bushes. The windows were open and as I got closer I could hear Carmen speaking in Spanish. I stayed as close to the house as possible so they would not see me. The leaves of the bushes brushed me as I walked by and suddenly the noises in the house stopped and everything around me went quiet. I couldn’t tell if it was because they heard me or from something else so I stood still and looked back at Beau. He was waving for me to keep going. I continued under the next window and jumped when a booming shout came from the house, “Feliz cumpleanos!”

  Laughter, followed by a rousing rendition of “Feliz cumpleanos, feliz cumpleanos” followed. I was overhearing what I assumed was a birthday party.

  I continued to the back of the house and found the back door wide open. There was nobody near it, but it was propped with a brick. Anybody standing in the kitchen would have a perfect view of me standing on the side of the building.

  I acted quickly. Running to the door and picking up a recycling box next to it, I quietly dumped the contents onto the ground and ran to the window of the garage. I placed the recycling bin on the ground and reached overhead to pull up the window. It was unlocked just as I had hoped. I pulled it open and placed my hands on either side of the sill and pulled myself in. This was a feat that would have been impossible a year ago, but since I had injured my leg I spent months working on my arm strength to pull myself around.

  Once I got my top half through the window I realized I had not thought of what to do on the other side. There was a five-foot drop in front of me. I looked around trying to figure out how to get through without landing on my head. I knew I was in a precarious situation with my legs still hanging out the other side of the window. I had no way to know if they had been spotted.

  I stayed in the window for a moment trying to decide if I should teeter forward or back, when I felt somebody tug on my foot.

  My heart raced and I tried to hold on to my position as I was pulled from the window. Luckily it was Beau holding me. He held his finger up to his mouth to let me know I should be quiet.

  “There is nothing to catch me on the other side,” I whispered.

  He nodded his head and stepped up to the recycling bin. He lowered me down and flipped me around so I was facing him. He bent down and picked me up by my legs then eased me in feet first. I shimmied in and when I had just my head left in the window I mouthed thank you to him. The window closed gently after me, and I heard him walking back toward the road.

  I didn’t want to risk turning on the lights so I walked to the back of the room in the dark and felt my way to the desk. I felt all only to find the book was gone. I opened all of the drawers and ran my hands through them but found nothing. Even the center drawer was completely empty. I bent down to the floor and reached under the desk, nothing.

  My search was a bust. I couldn’t think of where the book might have gone so I started for the door. I had just made it to the larger room where the utility vehicles were kept when I heard a cough come from the other side of the door. I panicked and searched the room for a place to hide. The handle started to jiggle, and I felt my way to a lawnmower I had seen earlier. I had just gotten up on the seat when the door cracked open, but the person on the other end had not opened it all the way yet. They stood for a moment yelling something towards the house.

  The rafters from the ceiling were at my chest and I pulled myself up onto one. As soon as I was up the door swung open and the lights were flicked on. A young man walked briskly to the back room and started digging through a closet. While his attention was on the closet I slid forward, closer to the door and hid as much of myself as I could over a florescent light. He left the closet with a broomstick and walked to Curly’s office. He left the door open as he flicked on the light and looked at the desk with his hands on his hips. He stepped forward and ran his finger along the discolored rectangle on the desk. Then he looked around the room. I knew I was only partially covered by the light and held my breath hoping somehow if I didn’t breathe I would be invisible.

  He shrugged, turned off the office light and left the room. He went back to the door of the main room and just before he shut off the florescent bulbs, I saw the corner of a book poking out from underneath the workbench along the back wall. As soon as he closed the door I let out the breath I had been holding in and climbed down. I went to the book and grabbed it. It did not have the same feel as the book from before - it was heavier. I picked it up and tucked it into the back of my jeans.

  I opened the door and closed it softly behind me, making sure I locked it. I looked to Beau who was urging me to run. I bent low again and scuttled away from the house as fast as I could. I overheard one word on my way out “Libro?” I didn’t need to know Spanish to understand it was the young man asking about the missing book.

  When I reached Beau he grabbed my hand, and we ran together to the car. He fired up the engine and we sped towards town. Once safely away he asked, “Did you get it?”

  “I got something, but it’s not the same book from before.”

  I switched on the interior light and examined the book. The cover said “Kalendar.”

  I opened the book and turned to Beau, “I think it’s a calendar, but it’s misspelled. Maybe it’s a Spanish thing.”

  I flipped through the last week and only found times and locations. Two days ago it said, “Marlene Baxter 11:00 a.m.” The other days said things like South Lawn Tulane 10 a.m. I skimmed the rest of the pages and found no addresses.

  I looked at Beau and shook my head. “I think it’s his calendar. And it looks like he had a meeting with my real mom, Marlene Baxter, just a few days ago.”

  A fine performance

  The hospital was clean and modern. The entry was a bright two-story atrium with a balcony that encircled the room. The floors were gleaming white and blue diamonds. It was a very inviting space for a hospital and had all of the modern trappings, including a coffee shop.

  The piano was to the right of the entrance and was the highlight of the sitting area with chairs and loveseats all around it. Donna saw me and pointed from me to the piano bench, as if I didn't know where I as supposed to sit.

  I sat and warmed up with scales. I arranged the music in front of me while the choir got into place. Donna moved people around for what seemed like no good reason. Then, shortly after we were in place, patients were brought in to watch the performance. Most of them were elderly, in wheelchairs and with I.V. bags. After a crowd was assembled, I thought we were ready and waited for my cue to play.

  Donna stepped away from the choir and over to me. She bent low and said, “Play something for goodness sakes, Fanchon. Haven’t you ever performed before? You need to play something while we wait for everybody to arrive.”

  I set my hands on the keys and searched my mind for something to play. I decided on an old slow jazz number. A couple of the elderly patients swayed to the music and smiled. I thought I had chosen well until I looked at Donna who was staring at me with her nostrils flared.

  I committed to the song and played for several minutes before an elevator in the back of the room beeped and delivered a group of nurses and children. They were ushered to the front of the room and given the best seats.

  I saw two familiar faces in the mix. Hattie, the short, red haired firecracker of a nurse I met when I broke my leg, and standing next to her, an older white haired nurse who followed Hattie everywhere. The older nurse, whose name I did not know, had a habit of repeating whatever tactless thing Hattie had to say.

  As soon as Hattie saw me at the piano she waved at me, a small wave with her sausage-like fingers up next to her chubby cheeks. She elbowed the nurse next to her who copied the tiny wave.

  I acknowledged them with a nod and turned my at
tention back to the piano. I was excited and nervous to be playing for an audience again.

  Donna clapped her hands, and I quieted my jazz number. The choir stood at attention in front of her. I checked that I was on the right page of sheet music and waited while Donna got the room started. When the rhythm was right I played the intro to “This Little Light of Mine,” and by the time the entire choir joined in for the chorus, I felt the music take over and barely glanced at the pages. My hands found their place on the piano as if performing and me had never been apart.

  The performance went by in a blur and more than once I watched Donna turn around and give me a wide-eyed look of surprise. I was proud of my performance. I knew I had given it my all when I got up to take a bow at the end and noticed that the front of my shirt was soaked with perspiration.

  The women from the choir made rounds after the performance and talked to the patients who had come to visit. They were acting familiar with most of the crowd, even the children. A little girl with thick glasses and light hair came to me and asked if I would teach her a song. Her nurse nodded her head and I escorted her to the piano. I showed her a simple version of Mary had a Little Lamb, which she played easily.

  She got up from the bench, put her hands on her hips and said, “That was boring. Teach me something better next week.”

  I was taken aback, but said, “I will think of something. Maybe you will be home by then?”

  The nurse behind her locked eyes with me and, with a solemn expression on her face, shook her head.

  I looked at the girl and said, “Just in case you’re not, I will have something ready.”

  She looked at me very matter of fact and told me I had better.