I turned to find Carly and Jaxson standing in the doorway. She wore a tight-fitting red-sequined strapless evening gown with matching red lipstick that I’m sure rubbed off on my cheek when she leaned down from her stiletto heels to kiss me hello while Cooper and Jaxson shook hands.
While Carly introduced herself to Cooper, Jaxson leaned close to my ear. “Have you talked to Beau yet?”
I shook my head. “No, and I really need to. Have you seen him?”
“Not yet, but we need to talk. When Uncle Bernie didn’t hear back from you, he called me, and I called Beau, but I haven’t heard from him since. Have you listened to your voice mail yet?”
“I just did tonight. So Beau knows about the DNA on the hair ribbons?”
“Yeah. But I haven’t been able to reach him again, so I’m not sure what sort of conclusions he’s made. Obviously not the same one we have, since Sunny is still here.”
“Did he mention anything about the cemetery photos I sent him?”
“Just briefly—something about how the truth has been right there, out in the open, all this time. I asked him what he meant, but he said he had to go. And that’s the last I heard.”
Our eyes met. Jaxson lowered his voice. “I’d really like to talk to Beau and figure out what’s going on.”
“Me, too. He isn’t here, and that alone tells me something is wrong.”
“Or he’s preparing for battle.”
A thread of panic wove its way through me as I recalled the last battle Beau and I had faced, in my cottage, and how I’d almost died except for unseen hands breaking my fall.
“Why are you dressed as a man?” Carly said, interrupting my thoughts. If it had been anyone else, I would have been grateful.
“Why are you dressed as a hooker?” The panic I’d felt earlier made me speak without thinking.
Carly surprised me by laughing. “No—I’m Mary Magdalene!” she said proudly. “Aren’t I clever?”
“That’s one word for it,” I said. “And unique. You certainly won’t see yourself in duplicate tonight.”
We turned to Jaxson, who wore a priest’s cassock with a white collar, black pants, and shoes. “Nice costume,” Cooper said. “Very authentic.”
“Because it is,” Jaxson said. “I borrowed it from my brother the priest.”
“Better known as ‘Father What-a-waste’ because he’s so hot,” Carly said, knocking back something pink and bubbly in a martini glass.
Jaxson kept smiling. “I’m Saint John Neumann, just in case you were wondering.”
“I was, actually,” Cooper said. “I thought it was either him or possibly Saint Francis Xavier, since both have schools named after them in New Orleans.”
I looked at Cooper, impressed. “How did you know that?”
He shrugged with a smile. “What can I say? I’m a nerd. I remember that you once said it’s one of the things you liked about me. Anyway, I did some studying up since I’m probably the only non-Catholic here.”
“Besides Jolene and me,” I corrected.
“Jolene!” Carly shrieked, waving wildly. Grabbing Jaxson’s arm, she pulled him away to go say hello. I stayed where I was, not wanting to witness the carnage.
“Sunny and Michael are headed this way,” Cooper said quietly.
I kept my focus on the table, spearing a piece of ham to place on my plate. “Keep them here for a bit, okay?”
“Got it.”
I stepped around the edge of the table and walked toward the swinging door on the opposite side of the room, quickly moving through it without looking back.
The kitchen bustled with the waitstaff and caterers, and after a few disinterested glances in my direction, I continued through the room to the banquette table, pretending to look out to the back garden, where more luminaries and twinkling lights lit the shadowed garden.
When I was sure no one was looking, I left my plate on the table and walked around the corner and into the morning room. I slid my finger along the chair rail like I’d seen Beau do until I found a soft depression in the wood, and I pressed.
The hidden panel in the wall popped open a crack and I hurried through it, pulling it closed behind me. I took out my phone—too big to fit in my bra—which I had cleverly concealed in the waistband of my pants, held in place by something Jolene called a pasty, something she’d once sworn by in her beauty pageant days and always kept on hand.
I flipped on my flashlight and shone it up the dark staircase. An icy wind wafted down the steps, blowing my hair and misting my face with damp. “Beau?” My voice came out in a strangled burst, not loud enough to be heard by anyone. Aiming the light in front of me, I began to slowly climb the stairs. The temperature dropped with each step, my teeth chattering by the time I reached the top.
I looked at the two closed doors, trying to decide behind which one I might find Beau. I wasn’t even sure how I knew he was up there. It was just a feeling. If there was anything I’d learned from Melanie, it was to always pay attention to my instincts. They were the closest thing most people had to a sixth sense. I knew Beau was nearby. But so was the source of the icy breeze whistling through the rafters of the old house despite the still night outside.
My hand gravitated to the door on the left. I turned the knob and went through it to the attic hallway I remembered from when I was there before. Beau sat in the middle of the walkway, leaning against a brick chimney, a camping lantern and crystal tumbler beside him, a thin layer of amber at the bottom of the glass. The distant hum of voices from downstairs formed a steady backdrop to the snap snap of his plucking at the rubber band on his wrist.
He looked at me, his face expressionless. “Well, if it isn’t Nancy Drew. I’m surprised it took you this long to find me.”
I stopped walking. “And I’m surprised that I even bothered. You’ve been ignoring my phone calls and texts. You’re allowed to be mad at me, but you’re not allowed to just walk away without telling me why. I thought we were friends.”
“Friends?” He smiled. “Is that what we are?”
I didn’t say anything. He was wading into dangerous territory, and I hadn’t worn my boots.
“Friends don’t conspire against me behind my back.”
I reached for the feeling of anger, and clung to it like it was a life raft. “We weren’t conspiring—we were trying to protect you, you idiot. Something your grandmother fully supported. Not to mention that I was doing the exact same thing you’d already asked me to do. You’re welcome, by the way.”