The Mystery at Belle Magnolia (Madeline Donovan Mysteries Book 3) Page 17

  He took his sister in his arms, holding her for a moment, and then guiding back towards the crowd.

  She knew it was impossible to convince anyone. The only way was to find the murderer of LaLande, and that seemed more and more elusive as the days went on.

  Now alone, the forest made her shudder, as she remembered her assault. This time, she moved swiftly through the brush to the desolate cabin.

  "Are you any better?" she asked of Hannah.

  "Somewhat. Did you find a place for the girl?"

  "As it happened, when we came into the clearing, her brother was there."

  "Good. I feel better that she is gone."

  "We need to get you back. Do you think you can walk with me helping you, or should I go for Samuel? He is waiting in the carriage for us."

  "Let me finish the water, and then we will go. It was a mistake to come here. If I may take your arm, I will make it."

  Walking slowly, they both spoke little and concentrated on their task to return to safety. Madeline was relieved when she once again heard voices.

  Samuel ran to them when he saw Madeline with Hannah.

  "Miss Hannah, you are safe. You're hurt...oh my, let me help you," he said as he lifted her into the carriage.

  "I know, Samuel. We were as shocked as you when we found her. We will tell you all when we return," said Madeline.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Mafia

  It was after midnight when they arrived at Belle Magnolia. Madeline's anxiety level caused her to twist the handle of her satchel, and tap her foot. When she realized it, she took to breathing deep breaths to calm herself. She would gain nothing if she could not think properly. Her neck and throat were hurting, but she would ask Father for help with that.

  The household had expected their late arrival, and everyone was bedded down for the night. The house was dark, with Belle leaving only a few lamps lit inside to give them safe passage through the hall.

  "Samuel, wait a moment. I will get Father to help you with Hannah," said Madeline.

  "Yes, Miss."

  Hannah had fallen asleep, and Madeline was glad of it. She ran up the steps but did not call out to anyone.

  She was not surprised to find her father still sitting in a chair in his room, and he immediately jumped up when he saw her.

  "I worried this was too much for you. You look a fright, my girl. What has happened now?" he asked.

  "We have Hannah, father, but she is hurt. I don't know how seriously, for it is a head wound, and I know those can prove serious. Please come."

  Between the three of them, they lifted Hannah from the carriage and brought her up the steps to the main house.

  "Let us take her to the drawing room. I feel it unsafe to have her travel up that long staircase," Dr. Donovan surmised.

  "Madeline, please bring my medical supplies down, and...get Belle."

  She had never seen Belle openly weep as she was now, not even after Wesley's death.

  "My darling girl is home. Thank you, Madeline, for everything. You have brought my Hannah home. My mind had imagined such terrible things," she said.

  "Prepare yourself. She was injured. Father is tending to her now."

  "How serious is it?"

  "It is a head wound. Father can tell you more. They are in the drawing room."

  Belle quickly took the stairs down to Hannah, with Madeline following right behind her.

  "Thank the Lord, she will be all right," said Father. "Now, Madeline, you do look poorly."

  "Yes, Father. May I have some medicine to ease the pain in my throat?"

  "Of course, as soon as I am through with Hannah. Have some hot tea, and I will meet you in my room."

  It was not a cup of tea that she wanted, but a small glass of absinthe. She would have a bath, no matter if the water were cold. She did not wish to disturb anyone and went to the well herself to draw the water, but Samuel saw her and offered his assistance.

  "No, Miss, I will heat the water for you over hot rocks and have Mrs. Brown bring it to you. After a night such as this, I'm sure you'll feel better after a warm soak."

  "Thank you, Samuel. You have been a godsend to stay with us, transporting us everywhere. We are all so grateful."

  "It is all right, Miss. I like to think that I am doing my part for poor Mr. Randolph," he said as he bowed his head and did the sign of the cross.

  Belle stayed with Hannah downstairs, her Father feeling she should not move just yet.

  It was quiet now. The warm water soothed her aching bones. The absinthe seemed to calm her, but the morphine her father gave her—although comforting—made her restless instead of sleepy.

  Lying in the bath long after the water had turned cool, she stared out the window wishing Russell would appear to her. She knew those days were in the past, but still, on nights like these, she wished more than ever to speak to him.

  She put her finest silk nightgown on, lit several candles, and went to her writing desk near the window. It had been a while since she wrote in her journal, and she was too exhilarated to sleep.

  August 15th, 1889

  Russell,

  You have been lost to me for so long sometimes I can no longer recall the sound of your voice. I see you and the children with me wherever I go, but your faces seem to blur now, and that somewhat terrifies me.

  I have friends, and, of course, Father, but I remain unable to fill the void that you, Will, and Nate have left in my heart. I pray every night for you and hope you are all in heaven.

  I think we are closer to finding out who killed our Wesley. We have stirred the pot, and people are beginning to boil.

  I...

  She stopped writing when she heard the men outside. It was nearly three in the morning. Her main concern was that Jonathan was all right. They were huddled together as they walked, and she could not tell if he was.

  Donning her night robe, she hurried down the stairs to meet them.

  Jonathan saw her and called out, "It's all right, not too much damage; nothing more than what I expected."

  Walter and Hugh were on either side of him; thankfully, she saw no blood.

  "A few unexpected quick blows to the chest, but then there were four of them. We are fortunate nothing more came of it. They ran away like the young cowards they are," said Walter.

  "I just need to catch my breath. I am grateful there were no guns, only fists. I could use a bourbon," said Jonathan.

  "It looks like Father's work will never cease. I will have him come down and take a look at you," said Madeline.

  "No...truly, it is nothing," he replied.

  "I insist. We will meet you in the drawing-room," she stated.

  Father threw his robe on and joined her within minutes of her knocking on his door. He looked so very tired, and she wondered how much longer they could impose upon him.

  "I will sleep tomorrow, God willing. But tonight I am needed," he said.

  Madeline brought Jonathan and the other men drinks of bourbon while Father wrapped Jonathan's chest with bandages.

  "There is some bruising, and there will be tenderness for a while. Otherwise, I believe he is all right," said Father.

  "How is Hannah?" Hugh asked.

  "She has a nasty blow on her head. It needed a few stitches, but with rest, she will be just fine,"

  "Please do not keep me in any further suspense—tell us what happened," requested Madeline.

  "You may wish to sit, Madeline," said Hugh.

  She took a sip of hot tea, and said, "Please, go on."

  "It was not Vinnie who came to collect the money and collect he did. He took it all, but we recovered most of it. No, it was your Mario, the man you have agreed to meet today," continued Hugh.

  "Oh, no...not that sweet boy. I know he's arrogant, even somewhat narcissistic, but I did not get the feeling he was the type to do the strong-arm part of the business," said Madeline.

  "He brought along three young men. It was fortunate that you did have Guy and his fri
ends keep watch. I don't think it would have ended as well," Walter said.

  "I don't understand. If you were willing to give him the money, why would he harm you?" asked Madeline.

  "It is their reputation. They must put fear into people besides extracting their fees. It is like that in Chicago. This boy, however, seemed excited to be there, enjoying the task of it," offered Walter.

  "Hugh, how did it go with Vinnie?" she now asked.

  "Smooth, just like any business transaction. He said he would get my money back, less the fifty percent recovery fee. It seemed reasonable for an underworld dealing. I would not have expected less. He promised it would be done within the next day or so, however, we knew Jonathan would make himself available and that it was likely it would be tonight. I particularly requested that there be no violence. He assured me there wouldn't be, of course," said Hugh.

  "Well, he hasn't seen you with Jonathan. We may still be able to go through with our plan tomorrow to meet with him," said Madeline.

  Hugh asked, "Are you sure you want to do that?"

  "More than ever. He is the weakest link, and someone who I think may be persuaded to talk," replied Madeline.

  "We will have to return to the Dauphine early in the morning to give the appearance that we are staying there," Hugh said.

  "Yes, we must sleep now, at least for a few hours. We can rest at the hotel in the morning. I will meet you here tomorrow at seven," said Madeline.

  The morning came quickly upon her, but even though she had only a few hours sleep, she felt refreshed and anxious to return to the city. She attributed part of that feeling to the morphine she had taken.

  Everyone else was asleep when she met Hugh in the drawing room.

  "Let's have our breakfast at the hotel. Hopefully, it will add to the appearance that we were there during the night," said Hugh.

  Samuel was sleepy-eyed, barely able to stay awake during their trip. However, it was not a long distance and soon they were at a table at the Dauphine New Orleans.

  "I feel I am tired, I could fall asleep right here," said Hugh.

  "I am tired too, but seem unable to sleep. Father's medicine has kept me jittery, and the elements of this case have kept my mind humming. I cannot stop thinking about Mario."

  "You will have to do your best acting today, as well as I. We must appear casual with him even after what we know."

  "Yes, there is so much I wish to know from him. I will be on my guard. I also wonder what happened to Andrew. I know by now Jonathan must have told you the story," Madeline said.

  "It is curious that he did not meet with her. Unless someone scared him off. Perhaps he came after you were all there," suggested Hugh.

  What time did Mario say he was meeting us at the hotel?"

  "I believe he said around one in the afternoon."

  "Do you mind if we go back to the room? I would like to rest till then."

  "I think we all need that. It is such a beautiful suite; it will be lovely to wait there."

  Hugh went into the adjoining bedroom, and when she peeked in a short time later to ask him something, he was already asleep.

  There was a small buffet table with tea, coffee, biscuits, and fruit. Taking her tea and a few strawberries, she lay on the divan and tried to rest. The morning sun streamed through the silky window dressings, making the room cheery, but also made it difficult to fall asleep.

  She had not wished the bedroom and had gladly given that up to Hugh, for she knew her medication made her too restless to put the bed to good use. Her thoughts also kept her from any state of drowsiness. The idea of Mario attacking Jonathan made her furious, but she knew she would have to get close to the young man if he were to reveal anything of importance to her.

  When she realized that she could not rest, she walked around the suite, gazing out the windows. The balcony looked inviting as a place to observe the bustling city waking up.

  She sat for almost an hour until the heat was so intensely upon her and the fan no longer kept her cool, leaving beads of sweat running down her neck and face. Turning to leave, she saw who she believed was Andrew LeBlanc walking in the vicinity of his office. She had a two-hour grace time before her meeting with Mario.

  Scrawling a note to Hugh, she left to pursue Andrew.

  When she reached his office, she was told he was not in, but she could hear him speaking. They requested that she leave. Knowing he would most likely not come out through the front entrance, she took a chance and went to the alley behind his office.

  She leaned against the building, fanning herself to persuade the heat to leave from her body. The air was thick with humidity, making it even difficult to breathe.

  When she stayed no more than fifteen minutes, she was about to give in to the heat when the door to the alley opened. She turned her face away from the door so that she no one would immediately recognized.

  As he walked by her, she grabbed his arm and said, "Mr. LeBlanc, we must talk. Please, don't walk away."

  He looked for a moment as if he were going to bolt away from her. His eyes stared at her, with such animosity, for intruding on his life. Then he straightened himself and said, "We shall have a cup of coffee together, but then I must leave."

  "That would be most agreeable and more than I had hoped for."

  They made their way to the coffee house, with Madeline walking hurriedly to follow him. He did not speak nor even look to see if she was able to keep up with his brisk pace.

  He ordered the coffee, stirring it continuously without looking up at her.

  "What is it you want of me, Mrs...I'm sorry I have forgotten your name?" asked Andrew.

  "Donovan...and I think you already know the answer to that. I am here to find out if your relationship with Hannah may have contributed in some way to Wesley Randolph's death."

  There, she said it. She had meant to be less direct but felt he would not give her much of his time, so she must be blunt with him.

  He tugged on the collar of his shirt, furrowing his brow.

  "What could you possibly be thinking? I not only feel insulted by your question but feel I cannot give a reply to such absurdity. Hannah was, no—is,—the only woman I have ever loved. I would do nothing to hurt her."

  "I believe there is a lack of truth in that statement, for you most definitely have hurt her. Could it be possible when I saw you rummaging through Wesley's office that you were looking for love letters...love letters from Hannah to you? I also found some rather risqué photographs of Hannah when she was younger."

  "Where did you find the letters?"

  "In Wesley's desk."

  "That is impossible, I looked—I mean, you must be mistaken."

  "Why would Wesley have such intimate letters unless you gave them to him?"

  "Again, that's absurd. What reason would I have to do that?"

  "I can think of many, to incite him into jealousy, to have him mistrust his wife, to cause a divide between them, to..."

  "Stop. You've made your point. I don't know how Wesley got those letters. If you have seen them, you know they belong to me. They were a treasured memory."

  "Were you in some way trying to get Hannah back by using those old letters to cause a rift between her and her husband?"

  She had used the word "old" for a reason: to see if he reacted. They were dated as if Hannah had just recently sent them to him.

  He did not, however, seem to notice even the term she had used.

  "Those letters are between Hannah and me."

  "Why did you not meet her at the cabin? She said she sent you word by telegram. Do you know someone injured her?"

  "Is she all right?"

  "She is healing but has a significant injury on her head."

  "Thank goodness it is nothing worse. I'm sorry, please tell her that."

  "You didn't answer any of my questions. Why did you not meet her there if you supposedly still love her?"

  "I can say no more. If you think I harmed someone, go to the police, but pl
ease leave me alone."

  With that, he threw some money on the table and left.

  She found herself feeling perplexed and unable to determine how Andrew fit into the picture. If he was reluctant to tell her anything, did that prove his guilt or just his desire for privacy pertaining to a delicate matter?

  Feeling tired, hot, and irritable, she returned to the Dauphine.

  Seeing Hugh and the loveliness of the room immediately lifted her spirits.

  "I just woke a few minutes ago and saw your note. Were you successful? Did you see LeBlanc?" asked Hugh.

  Madeline replied, "I did. He spoke little, but still revealed one thing: he was aware of Wesley having those letters. He all but admitted he was looking for them. Surprisingly, he was quite frank about his feelings for Hannah, stating he was still in love with her. However, he refused to tell me anything about the supposed meeting at the cabin. He also made it known that he wished me not to bother him again.

  "People with secrets seldom like to be bothered. Just like Mario, although, he seems to tend toward revealing his. Andrew keeps things close to the vest; you could almost tell that about him at our first meeting. Mario seems like he is itching to tell his inner thoughts. That will be an advantage to us today."

  "We'll see. If he became injured after the altercation, he might send word he is unavailable."

  "I think he will be anxious to see you either way. I saw the way he looked at you."

  "Hmm...that's interesting. I suppose I don't observe those things as I once did."

  "When the time comes when you are ready, I am sure you will have many suitors."

  He had never said anything like that to her before, and she felt a sudden shyness when looking at him.

  "You flatter me, but I am afraid it will be difficult to find a place in my heart for someone other than the father of my boys. I know I should begin again, and perhaps that day will come. I don't think it is here yet."

  "I understand that such a loss will take a long time in the healing. In the meantime, you have my friendship for as long as you desire it."