all.'
The two of them stood like that, Edith crying, Jodi patting her shoulder, together in the heat of the day.
CHAPTER 21
W e drove to Edith Boudreaux's house, parked in the drive, then went inside so that she could share her life with her long-lost daughter.
It was a nice house, furnished in Early American and smelling faintly of Pine-Sol. Everything was clean the way a home can be clean only after the children are older and have moved out. A grandfather clock stood in the entry, and a Yamaha piano was against the wall just inside the door. A cluster of family photographs sprouted on top of the Yamaha. Edith and Jodi moved together ahead of me, and there seemed a careful distance between them, each overly polite, each watchful and uncertain. Jodi said, 'You have a lovely home.'
'Thank you.'
'Have you lived here for very long?'
'Oh, yes. Almost fifteen years, now.' You see? Like that.
I sat in a wing chair at the end of the couch as they moved around the room examining the artifacts of Edith's life, as if we had stumbled upon a long-sealed chamber beneath the great pyramid.
After a little bit of that, Edith said, 'Would you like coffee? Coffee won't take but a minute.' Nervous, and anxious to please.
Jodi looked at me, and I said, 'That would be very nice. Thank you.'
When Edith was gone, I lowered my voice. 'How are you doing?'
Jodi made a little shrug. 'It feels creepy.'
'We can leave whenever you want.'
She shook her head. 'I'm here. I might as well learn whatever I can learn.'
'Sure.'
'I won't be coming back.'
I spread my hands.
Jodi frowned. 'Well, I can't very well be rude.'
'Absolutely not.'
When Edith came back with the coffee, Jodi was looking at the pictures on the piano. Edith had bypassed the Yamaha before, and didn't seem thrilled when she saw Jodi over there. Jodi said, 'Are these your brothers and sisters?'
Edith poured the coffee, then handed me a small plate with three pecan pralines. I hadn't had pralines in years. She said, 'Some of them.' Not looking that way.
Jodi said, 'Show me who's who.'
Edith made a little frown as she joined Jodi at the pictures. 'This is my mother, standing with my aunt. That's Jo-el when he was a boy. And these are my brothers and sisters. That's m amp;. I was sixteen.'
Jodi nodded and leaned closer to the pictures. 'Which one is your father?'
Edith seemed to pull herself in. 'I don't keep a picture of my father here.'
'Elvis says you take care of him.'
'Yes, that's true.'
Jodi stared at Edith for a moment, then looked back at the pictures. 'How do you and they live with it?'
Edith started to speak, stopped, then found some words. 'Families keep secrets. We've never once spoken of it in all this time. My brother Nick was closest to my age. He was twelve, but he's dead. Sara was ten, and the others even younger. I don't know if they know or not.'
Jodi made a whistling sound through her teeth. 'He murdered a child and he got away with it. Just like that.'
Edith crossed her arms again, as she had at the gazebo. 'A man named Duplasus was the sheriff back then. He came to the house, and my father told him exactly what happened and why.' She pulled her arms tighter, protection from the cold. 'I'm sure Mr. Duplasus felt that my father's rage was justifiable, a white girl being ruined by a colored.'
Jodi said, 'Jesus Christ.'
Edith came back to the couch. 'Yes. Well. Things like this used to be called crimes of passion. Would you like more coffee, Mr. Cole?'
'Yes, ma'am. That would be nice.'
Jodi turned away from the piano and stood in the center of Edith's living room. 'You could've said something. You still can.' She looked at me. 'There's no statute of limitation on murder, is there?'
'Nope.'
Edith said, 'My father is eighty-six years old. He's incontinent and he talks to himself, and much of the time he's incoherent. I care for him now in ways that he doesn't always like, but I'm the only one to do it.' She shook her head. 'I'm not as angry as I used to be. Leon's been gone a very long while.'
Jodi's jaw worked.
Edith made a little shrug, and seemed profoundly tired. 'It's just the way we feel about it. I guess that's why we have this trouble.'
I said, 'Milt.'
Edith looked at me. 'My, but you must be a good detective.'
Jodi said, 'Who's Milt?'
Edith looked at her. 'He didn't tell you what's going on?'
Jodi was frowning. 'What didn't you tell me?'
Edie said, 'Some of the same people who were blackmailing you are blackmailing us, too.'
Jodi looked at me. 'What?'
I said, 'I told you what was relevant to you. Edith's business is Edith's business.'
'Jesus Christ, but you're a tight-lipped sonofabitch.'
I shrugged. 'Privacy is my middle name.' Jodi wanted me to fill her in and Edith said it was all right with her. I said, 'Rebenack was working for a man named Milt Rossier. As near as I can figure it, Rebenack uncovered Leon Williams's murder and sold it to Rossier so that Rossier would have leverage over Edith's husband. Rebenack double-crossed Rossier by going behind his back to blackmail you. Rebenack thought he was being sharp, but that brought me into it and focused attention on Rossier.' I looked at Edith. 'You know Rebenack is dead.'
She looked confused.'No. Jo-el hasn't said anything.'
Jodi said, 'Jesus Christ. Is everything in this family a secret?'
I said, 'After Lucy Chenier and I came to see you, Rossier's goon picked me up and brought me out to the crawfish farm. There's no way that Rossier would've known that I came to see you unless your husband told him. Rebenack was out there, too. Rossier wanted to know why I was digging around, and he became upset when I told him that Rebenack was putting the twist on Jodi. He didn't know that, and I suspect he killed Rebenack because of it.'
Edith shook her head. 'Jo-el wouldn't murder anyone. I don't believe that.'
I shrugged.
Edith put down her coffee cup and said, 'I told Joel that thirty-six years is enough lying. I said that I didn't want him to do anything wrong, and he said what was he supposed to do, go arrest my father?' She shook her head again and rubbed at her eyes. 'This is a nightmare.'
