style="font-size:15px;"> “Where are you going?” Mary demanded.
“I have an old red T-shirt somewhere. I also have to phone Dolores and tell her about Sunday night.” The lights popped off then on. “Look, let’s get this done while I’m still feeling halfway sane.”
For some reason, the words Mary had recited earlier ran through her head.
“‘…For deeds long past, chère child will reap, my vengeance curse, of death—or worse.’”
It was a family curse, Dolores had told them, passed through her to their birth mother Lucille, then on to Lucille’s eldest child. In the para-scientific world, that made Eden the target of its voodoo wrath.
And for the first time since she’d heard it ten years ago, the malice behind it made Eden shiver.
ARMAND LAMORTE stood in the shadows on the glass side of a two-way mirror and regarded the assortment of women behind it.
Without looking away, he spoke to the officer who’d just entered, a veteran cop with a gimpy leg and a ratty clipboard. “What’s the woman’s last name, Al?”
“Mayne, Lisa. She’s twenty-eight. Owns two big garden supply shops and a catering company in the city. You know the family?”
“I’ve heard of them. She inherited well.”
“Every dime of the old family money. She was the sole heir, adopted at twenty-two months. She has two blood sisters but no siblings in the legal sense.”
“The three were split up?”
“At a young age. Don’t know the story there.” Al flipped through the wad of papers on his clipboard. “I do know the other two weren’t as lucky moneywise. The youngest crapped out totally. Her old man lost his job and turned to alcohol. Her ma died when she was ten.”
Armand’s gaze settled on the most striking of the women behind the glass. She wore a snug fitting red T-shirt that ended just above the waistband of her equally snug jeans.
Al followed Armand’s gaze. “That’s Eden Bennett, one of the sisters. She’s older than the suspect by a year.”
Armand half smiled. “I met her ex once.”
“Then you’ll know she’s not a fan of cops or cop stations. She called in a favor and got herself into the lineup. I’ve seen the pair of them close up. There’s a strong resemblance.”
“That should confuse your witness nicely.”
“You don’t have to sound amused,” Al grumbled. “I’m stuck with the paperwork on this one, and trust me, between Burgoyne and his holdings, a tardy witness, no murder weapon and now a doppelganger tossed into the mix, I’ll be filling out reports for the next six months.”
Armand kept his eyes on Eden. “You think Lisa Mayne hit him?”
“Personally? No. Poison’s a woman’s weapon.”
Armand’s lips curved. “Some would call that a sexist remark.”
“I’m sixty-two and deskbound. I’m entitled. I told you, I’ve seen the woman. In my jaundiced opinion, she wouldn’t have bludgeoned the guy.”
“Maybe she has a Jekyll and Hyde personality.”
“Not from what I saw. A little off in space, maybe, but hey, she’s rich.”
Armand couldn’t resist a grin. “You need to get out more.”
“What I need is for Parker to get his butt in gear. He’s handling the witness. Name’s Robert Weir. He looks like a librarian.”
“Credible?”
“On the surface. Says he freaked when he saw Burgoyne get hit. Did I mention they were business partners?”
“Burgoyne and the witness?” Armand regarded Eden through half-lidded eyes while he rolled that tidbit over. “What’s Weir’s story?”
“He panicked when he saw the murder, took off and hid out at home for two days.”
“Didn’t want to get involved?”
“Something like that. He told us up-front he wasn’t fond of his late partner.”
Armand slid his gaze sideways. “So if the surviving partner had no love for the dead one, where do you read the words credible witness?”
“We have no priors on the guy, in fact no charges of any kind. Three parking and two speeding tickets in the past fifteen years, all paid in full. He has an ex and a kid, a daughter. No problem there. He’s on the books for child support, and there haven’t been any gripes from his former wife, so he must be coming through. He has a condo in the Warehouse District and he went to Tulane.”
“Your alma mater.”
Al’s expression grew pensive. “I wanted to be a pro running back in those days.”
Armand ran his eyes over Eden’s legs. He’d bet a month’s pay they were the longest in the room. “There’s no security in pro sports, Al. You’re better off here.”
“Uh-huh. And while we’re on the subject, you’re here tonight because…?”
“Why else? I missed your smiling face.”
Al snorted. “I haven’t smiled since that bullet shattered my kneecap three years ago. You got nothing better to do, go hunt up Parker and tell him to get in here with that witness.”
She didn’t paint her fingernails, Armand noted. And he could see the green of her eyes from here. “You need to slow down, Al, lay back.” He smiled. “Take a vacation.”
“Love to. You wanna do my job while I’m gone?”
“Sorry, already booked.”
“That’s what they all say.” His head came up. “Is that Parker’s voice?” He paused on his way out. “You gonna leer at Lisa Mayne’s sister all night or check out that waterfront hotel you mentioned earlier… Is that you, Parker?” He raised his voice before Armand could answer. “We’re in 5C,” he called. “Later, Mandy.”
Armand nodded. Eden had a look of alertness about her that he found intriguing. She wouldn’t miss a trick—which would make her extremely difficult to deceive.
A smile curved on his lips even as his eyes lingered on Eden’s face. He pushed off from the wall. He had his work cut out for him.
Chapter Two
It took the better part of three hours to straighten things out. If you could call them straightened. Eden’s neck and shoulder muscles felt knotted, and she could still hear one of the women in the lineup crunching hard candy.
Lisa had been dazed throughout the ordeal. She still was. Eden watched her through a glass room divider from her
