Adieu, Cherie, Adieu
by Pat Smith

Copyright © Pat Smith, December 2001
Cover art by Jenny Dixon
ISBN 1-58608-311-2
Gemstar Edition ISBN 1-58608-432-1
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park GA 31636
http://www.newconceptspublishing.com

Other NCP titles available by Pat Smith:

Chapter One

Deep in thought, Dr. Justin Mathews walked swiftly down the hall towards his patient’s room. Some of his more witty mastectomy patients referred to the procedure as a boob job and a tummy tuck at the same time. He was intent on the difficult but common surgery that he would be performing as he turned into her room.
"Good morning, Mrs. Faire. How are you coping today?"
"I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, Dr. Mathews. This is my single daughter, Tiffany." Diane made an ill disguised attempt at matchmaking as she lay on the bed, drowsy with the effects of a shot given to relax her.
"Miss Faire." Justin looked at the young Miss Faire with sudden interest. His patient, Diane, was a charming older lady, but Tiffany was breath taking. The same round face and wide green eyes complimented with long tawny gold hair. Her figure was set off to perfection in a black sun dress, she was slightly taller than her mother. He became aware that his stare was all too obvious, so he cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses. He could not date a patient, but his patient’s daughter?
"So nice to meet you, Dr. Mathews."
He noticed her cheeks turned a pale shade of pink as she spoke. A refreshing trace of shyness, he thought.
"Same, here, Miss Faire. Diane, I will see you in surgery. This is the last step." He said with a positive air and turned to leave the room.
"Mother, you embarrassed me."
"He is single, darling. I asked his nurse."
"You didn’t!"
"Well, one of us has to be concerned with your future."
"You aren’t dating anyone either, Mother."
"Touché, Tiffany. I just hope it’s not the bad memories of your father that is keeping you from finding someone special. Those last difficult days he was not the man I married. The alcohol had destroyed him for all practical purposes. And then it killed him."
"Mother, I know there was another side to Daddy." Tiffany said stiffly, but the truth of her mothers words hit home.
"It’s time for your trip to surgery, Mrs. Faire." The nurse indicated the approach of the young man who would assist her transfer to the gurney.
Diane gave Tiffany’s hand a last squeeze. She watched the ceiling tiles as she was wheeled down the hall. A tear pooled in the corner of her eye, but she smiled more bravely than she felt as she was wheeled into the busy surgery where masked nurses and technicians were moving around . Dr. Mathews came in, and she felt reassured. He was like the son she never had, a good, kind, caring young man. Tiffany was thirty, and, except for brief romances and a few old friends, she seemed to live her life for their business, the Clothes Horse in the River Key. She feared her daughter would never know the thrill of falling in love, never have the grandchildren that Diane was longing to hold.
"Start counting backward from ten, Mrs. Faire."
The room grew fuzzy and quickly faded away.
* * *
Tiffany stood in the waiting room with a half empty coffee cup in one hand. She looked at the clock for the umpteenth time. It was a long surgery, the reconstruction operation using the abdomen tissue to replace the breast after mastectomy. Tiffany returned to her chair and picked up the book she was trying vainly to concentrate on.
"Miss Faire." He came to her side and touched her arm lightly.
"Oh, Dr. Mathews!" Tiffany turned and looked at him with concern.
"Your mother is fine. She is in recovery and should be going to her room soon. The surgery was a success. I think she will be pleased with the results." He watched her face intently as he spoke.
"Thank you, Dr. Mathews, thank you so much." Tiffany felt relief flooding through her. He was tall with kind brown eyes and chestnut curls that lay on his collar. He looked tired, and she felt sympathy for him.
"Can I get you a cup of coffee?" Tiffany offered. He was a good looking man, but he seemed so distant and impersonal.
"Thanks, but I still have things to do. I’ll see you in your mothers room later." He turned on his heel and walked away.
Tiffany sat down, weak with relief. It had been a long year for her. Her mother had always been there for her. She depended on her for most of her social life. It was wrong perhaps, but Diane had always been the center of attention, and Tiffany was her second banana. Their business had done really well, even without Diane’s input for much of the past year. Tiffany had been able to institute some changes she had been longing to put into effect for some time. Diane had always dominated the business, not necessarily meaning to, but it was her way. Tiffany thought that because of her fathers alcoholism, her mother had been forced to become the bread winner and the head of the family. Living in her mothers shadow, her life after work had dwindled to nothing with Diane ill so much of the time.
"Oh, mother, how could I make it without you?" Tiffany said aloud as she put her face in her hands and waited for Diane to return from recovery.
* * *
Diane became aware of people around her checking her vital signs. Her mind drifted in and out of consciousness, and her mouth was extremely dry, causing difficulty when the nurse asked her questions and she tried to speak. There was pain in her chest and abdominal areas, but she was happily aware of a return to normal roundness where her flat mastectomy scar had been. A smile spread across her face. She was getting back to the woman she had been a year ago when this whole journey through the cancer battle had begun. Consciousness slipped away and when she awoke, she was in a room with Tiffany by her bedside.
"Mother?"
"Tiffany, I’m so thirsty," she croaked.
Tiffany poured a glass of ice water and held it carefully to her mothers lips.
"Thanks!" Diane said as she laid her head back on the pillow.
The room was a sunny yellow color with several colorful flower arrangements sitting on the tables and window sill. It reminded her of her sun porch at home.
"Mrs. Faire, Miss Faire," Dr. Mathews appeared in the doorway.
"Dr. Mathews, thank you, I think." Diane quipped.
"You did great, Mrs. Faire, and I think you will be very pleased with the results." There was a twinkle in his eye when he smiled at his patient.
Tiffany noticed the chestnut colored hair on his arms as he checked Diane’s bandages and had the unsettling thought that he probably had the same reddish brown hair on his chest.
"You can have liquids for the rest of today. You have a pump for pain, and I am giving you floxin by mouth for antibiotic." He explained her medications and the equipment by her bed.
Diane was restless, but she wished that she could sleep to escape the pain and because she felt so tired. After surgery, the anesthetic had the disconcerting effect of keeping her wide awake. She moved her feet restlessly against the covers.
"Mother, are you okay?" Tiffany asked, concerned.
"Just uncomfortable, but it will pass, dear."
"I’ll be back in the morning, Mrs. Faire. Adieu, Miss Faire." Dr. Mathews said as he turned to go.
Tiffany looked after him distractedly. There was a feeling of attraction that she did not understand. He barely addressed a word to her, but there was something in his voice when he said adieu. He had a soft deep male voice with a Southern inflection.
"Can I get you anything, Mother?"
"Some soup would be nice, dear."
"Sure," Tiffany said as she got up to go to the cafeteria.
* * *
It was late when Tiffany left the hospital. She was tired and bored with all the sitting. Walking to her car, the warm breezes caressed her hair and skin, creating disturbing sensations. She wondered what Dr. Mathew’s touch would feel like. A dangerous thought. The drive home was accomplished without much concentration. Inside the house, Tiffany stripped off her clothes and stepped into her nightgown. Relaxing, she yawned and stretched in preparation for a good night’s sleep. She said a quick prayer for her mother before climbing into bed and drifting off.
The phone rang incessantly. It was very late, Tiffany roused herself and looked at the clock. Three in the morning. Fear coursed through her veins. What if it was her mother having problems? She picked up the receiver anxiously to hear a muffled male voice.
"Adieu, Tiffany, adieu." The receiver clicked and the phone went dead.
"What?" Tiffany cried out. The voice was chilling, and the word adieu came back to her. The parting words of Dr. Mathews. Could he have some kind of mental problem? Even brilliant men sometimes had sinister sides to their personality. Who ever had placed the call had a sick sense of humor at best.
The alarm went off, causing Tiffany to moan. She struggled up and yawned mightily, then trekked to the bathroom. A splash of cold water on her face helped clear the fog in her brain. She had to go into work because of the fashion show that would last the entire week. She felt competent in the mechanics of putting on the show, but the public relations department had always been Diane’s forte. Depression settled over her since she had the show without her mothers skills to rely on. The beautiful dream she had about Dr. Mathews had come crashing down since the eerie phone call. But as daylight streamed into her bathroom through the skylight, she thought that perhaps she was being unnecessarily wary of the good doctor. He probably had nothing to do with the stupid phone call.
A slight smile returned to her lips as she started her shower. At least she could dream about Dr. Mathews again. The dream would help her feel more confident about all the socializing she would have to do before the week was over. It was painful for her, trying to make small talk with strangers. She was much more comfortable behind the scenes. She stepped into the shower and had just gotten soaking wet, when the phone rang. She groaned inwardly as she turned off the faucet and stepped out, dripping on the carpet as she walked. She grabbed a towel and raced to the phone.
"Miss Faire?"
It was him, Dr. Mathews. Tiffany felt slightly like a rabbit torn between the desire to taste a carrot in the farmer’s garden and scared to death of the farmer.
"Yes?"
"This is Dr. Mathews, and I wanted to discuss a few suggestions for your mothers recovery."
"Certainly, Dr. Mathews. What can I do to help her?" Tiffany was more than happy for any suggestions to get her mother back to good health again.
"She needs to start moving that arm as soon as she is healed from the surgery. I have noticed some depression in Diane lately, and I was hoping that you could come up with some ideas to get her back into the swing of things. She needs extra rest for the healing process, but she also needs to feel involved with life again after her long bout with illness."
The concern in his voice touched Tiffany.
"I really appreciate the excellent care you have given my mother, Dr. Mathews."
"Thanks, Miss Faire. Your mother is a special lady."
"I will see that she exercises her arm as soon as you say she is ready. And I will think long and hard about ways to get her back into the social whirl she always loved. Her friends have always been very important to her. I have been so concerned with her physical health that I had forgotten about the emotional factor. She has been acting out of character. She seemed almost ready to back out on her surgery yesterday, and that is not at all like her, she has always been so brave," Tiffany said thoughtfully.
"I’ll probably see you later at the hospital, Miss Faire."
"Goodbye, Dr. Mathews and thanks for calling." Tiffany hung up the phone and hurried back into the warm shower. His voice did not sound at all like the voice of the late night caller. Only the words had been the same.
The commotion at her usually orderly dress shop was disconcerting. Models and photographers drifted in and out. The caterer created chaos in her office with trays of hors d’oeuvres tastefully spread out over every available desk surface.
"Tiffany, darling, you look absolutely frazzled," John, her tailor and right hand man assessed her condition.
"John, I’m not good at all with this people stuff like mother is," Tiffany complained.
"You can do the same thing too, Sweetie, just think sex."
"Easy for you to say."
"You should see my new man," John said, and he winked outrageously.
"Well, some people have it and some people don’t," Tiffany said with a pout. But if I could just cast a spell on Dr. Mathews, and he isn’t Jack the Ripper, things could look considerably brighter, Tiffany thought to herself.
Tiffany forced herself out of the mayhem in the office and walked to the front of the store where the runway was set up and patrons sat in front of the drapes. She pushed the heavy material aside and looked out over the well heeled audience. In the front row, Mrs. Armani Prince sat with her entourage, and Mr. Prince was absent as usual. Everything in the world except her man, thought Tiffany to herself of Mrs. Prince. She did not envy the woman her huge diamonds and limitless wardrobe. She was like a well kept brood mare and obviously little else since her husband’s affairs were legendary.
"Please, I want to see that dress more closely," Mrs. Prince said in a strident voice. She used perfect English with a heavy middle eastern accent.
Tiffany started to close the curtain, but was too late.
"Miss Faire, it is I, Louisa Prince. You must come and sit with me here and explain your collection," Mrs. Prince commanded, as she inspected the model wearing the dress that she had taken a fancy to.
"Certainly, Mrs. Prince," Tiffany said lightly, as she parted the curtain and walked down the side stairs toward the audience.
"Tiffany, how is your mother? We miss her! She is still requesting no visitors?"
Tiffany made her way to Mrs. Prince, answering the concerned questions of the many friends and acquaintances of her mother as she continued across the room.
"Yes, we all miss that darling mother of yours. Tiffany, are you going to serve those strawberries dipped in chocolate?" Louisa had a sweet tooth that played havoc with her once spectacular figure. She looked at Tiffany with such longing that Tiffany had to smile.
"Of course, Mrs. Prince - Louisa, I will have one of the servers bring you some at once." Tiffany waved her hand gracefully and instructed one of her aids to have the sweets brought out.
"This is one of our more daring creations, the white dotted swiss swirling around the black satin emphasizing the bust line." Tiffany explained the dress to Mrs. Prince.
The model, Jill, a fairly tall girl in her early twenties with wide lips and rather vacant green eyes walked around the area in front of Mrs. Prince.
"Yes, I think I would like this dress. Please have the dress fitted to my dummy and sent to my house when it is finished." Louisa instructed Tiffany, pointing with her long red nails as she discreetly pushed chocolate covered strawberries into her mouth one at a time.
"Of course, Louisa, we will be happy to take care of your order," Tiffany flashed her even white teeth as the model retreated back to the stage.
John came looking for her, and Tiffany excused herself and hurried back stage feeling like there was no place she could get away from the crowd.
"You have Mrs. Prince eating out of your hand, Darling."
"Thanks, John, strawberries of course." Tiffany quipped.
"She is ordering dresses, Tiffany," John countered.
"Only one so far."
"Just give her time." John suggested as he took Tiffany’s arm and led her back to her office and a cup of hot tea that he had thoughtfully brewed for her.
Tiffany kissed his cheek, "I don’t know what I’d do without you?"
"Frankly, Darling, neither do I. It’s not like you have any other men in your life." John shrugged his shoulders.
"John, I don’t know who is worse, you or my mother? I can’t just whip up a man like you’d whip up a dress."
"No, but are you even looking?"
"Maybe," Tiffany said hesitantly. She thought of the disturbing Dr. Mathews with a sigh.
"Hum, that is a good sign. Maybe I’ll dance at your wedding one of these days after all."
Tiffany continued at the show until almost the bitter end, and then she ducked out to rush back to the hospital. Leaving the parking lot, she walked swiftly to her mothers room.
"Mom, how are you feeling?" Tiffany asked with obvious concern.
"Oh, you know. Okay, I guess, but I’m just tired of being sick. I know I’m being spoiled because I’ve always been so healthy and this is all so different for me." She confessed with head down.
"It’s all right, Mom. You’ve been through a lot this year, and you have a right to be worn out." Tiffany thought a minute and came up with one of her brightest ideas. "What about a party at the house celebrating a successful show with all of our models and staff and our best clients and friends?"
"How is the show going before I say yes to this?" Diane asked with a hint of a smile.
"You always do the social stuff best, Mom, but it has really been going well, considering."
"I had no doubts, Tiffany. You never were as confident as you should be." Her mind flashed back to the scoldings that her late husband was fond of giving out when he was in his cups to his wife and daughter. No wonder that Tiffany lacked self esteem. "Planning a party is not like you, Dear, but I’m impressed with your new found confidence. When will this bash take place?"
"The party will be in one week at our house, so you have to concentrate on getting your energy back."
"Really not much else I can do cooped up in the hospital like this. I’ve asked Dr. Mathews to release me in two days, so please ask Mrs. Anton to come and stay with me, Dear. I hope I’ll be ready for a party in that short space of time. I guess if it is too much for me, I can just faint gracefully and be carried upstairs like the prima donna that I am."
"You will do fine. All your friends are asking about you, Mom. They want to see you again. The party will be a good way to get back into your social whirl. I know Mrs. Anton will be happy to come, and I’ll call her when I get home. Then she will be right there to help with the details." Even though Tiffany had never felt much warmth from the dark brooding Mrs. Anton, she always seemed devoted to Diane. Tiffany touched her lips to her mothers forehead and sat back to discuss how Diane was feeling.
"I may be minus a boob, but at least I’m alive, Tiffany. I guess it’s all in how you look at things." Diane smiled triumphantly at her daughter.
Tiffany was happy to hear her mothers words. She knew that losing a breast was very painful to her mother and surely to most women who had to experience the healing art of the surgeon. Her old fighting spirit was coming back, and all it took was the mention of a party.
Chapter Two

Tiffany paced the floor in her room as she dressed. Her dress was a new color, fuchsia floor length and cut daringly low for her, but when she saw it, she just had to have that dress for the party, her first evening with Dr. Mathews. She used every bit of nerve she possessed to send him an invitation to the party. She felt relieved and distressed when he had phoned his acceptance. Now she wondered if he would even show up, after all, he was a busy surgeon. Her pulse raced, he might not appear, and she was flustered already. What if he came, and nothing happened? What if he came, and they clicked? That was what she wanted to happen, wasn’t it?
She put her hand to her heated cheek and bit her lip. She usually just dated old friends and avoided all those silly first date jitters. Safe, that was the story of her life, until now at least. But he was different, he mattered, and that scared her to death.
The party would be starting in just a few minutes. Tiffany had seen to it that Diane was installed in her lounge chair in a beautiful floating gown with brilliant greens that highlighted the peach tones of her complexion. Her mother was weary and closed her eyes for a little cat nap before the festivities. In a way, Tiffany would be relieved with Dr. Mathews there. Just in case her mother got overly tired and needed medical attention. Still, there’d been a sparkle again in her mothers eyes before she closed them. Parties were Diane’s stock and trade, she so loved being surrounded by people. Tiffany envied her mothers ease with people.
Mrs. Anton came into the room and sided up to Tiffany. She placed a cold hand on Tiffany’s shoulder.
"Will you be needing anything, Miss Tiffany?" The dark Creole woman spoke abruptly.
"Thank you, Susan, but everything appears to be taken care of." Tiffany suppressed an involuntary shudder. Mrs. Anton was an excellent housekeeper, still something about the big woman gave her the creeps.
The door bell chimed, and Susan walked away from Tiffany with extraordinary grace and quiet for one so large. The room started to fill up, and the minutes slipped away as she watched anxiously for the good doctor to appear. But if she was distracted, no one noticed because Diane was the center of attention, just as things used to be. Tiffany heard bursts of Diane’s sparkling laughter with relief. Dr. Mathews had certainly been right about his prescription for her mothers recovery. She needed to get back into the swing of things.
Suddenly, there he was. His chestnut hair was slightly tousled, reminding her of a rumpled teddy bear. He smiled widely as he crossed the room to her side.
"I saw your mother on my way in, she appears to be in excellent spirits."
"Thanks to you, Dr. Mathews," Tiffany said with an answering smile. She felt a current between them. His eyes were alive with merriment, as if they shared some special joke.
"Would you care for something to drink or a dance, Miss Faire?" He offered his hand to her, and she touched him, feeling almost afraid.
"Yes to both of those questions, Dr. Mathews. You may call me Tiffany." She glanced at him shyly.
"My name is Justin, Tiffany." Her emerald eyes mesmerized him, and Justin began to think he was losing his grip. A man used to thinking of his job first and last and always, smitten by a young woman he had only recently met. Not his usual style. He believed in long time acquaintances before developing serious relationships. His fiancee had recently walked out on him after a five year courtship, stating that she had had enough. He had sensed her growing disenchantment with his lifestyle. Long hours at the hospital and office, and the annoying beeper going off at all hours of the day and night.
That was probably the whole explanation. The pain of missing Cynthia was causing him to rebound into the attraction he felt for Tiffany, that had to be it. Still her hand in his felt wonderfully warm. The dress she was wearing reeked of class and style, but it was cut seductively low, allowing him a glimpse of her firm breasts. "The face of an angel and a heavenly body as well," he mused to himself.
The music wafted from the large living room as he led her to the punch bowl on the way to the spot that had been cleared for a dance floor.
"You and your mother throw a great party, Tiffany," Dr. Mathews stated, as he swept her out onto the dance floor.
"Thank you, actually, my mother usually does the entertaining, but I inherited the job for tonight." Tiffany blushed as he crushed her against his chest, and she felt the strength of him.
"Is that crab meat on the silver tray?" He said as he spied the food table when they danced by.
"Yes, Justin, and gumbo in the tureen as well." Tiffany smiled up at him.
"You see, I haven’t eaten in awhile, and I’m starved." He danced her resolutely across the floor to the refreshment table and ended the dance abruptly as he grabbed a plate and offered one to her.
"So much for romance," Tiffany laughed to herself as Justin chowed down.
"This may be most rude of me, but my lifestyle frequently forces me to forgo certain meals until eventually." he managed to tell her between wolfish bites of crab.
"Until eventually you pig out." Tiffany finished for him. She began to relax, he was just a man after all. The sight of his immense enjoyment of food brought back to her the fact that she had not eaten in awhile either because of nerves. She took a bowl of gumbo and loaded it with rice. The first spoonful was so spicy it filled her mouth with fire and full of sausage, a delightful combination. He dabbed his face with a napkin and offered her a glass of champagne.
"Thank you, Justin," Tiffany beamed at him. The champagne tasted sweet and bubbly.
"After we finish our drinks, would you like to continue our dance?"
"Of course, Justin." She liked him, he was a lot more down to earth than her earlier impression of him. She would have to compliment Susan on the gumbo, it was excellent. She finished her champagne and set the glass down beside her half eaten bowl of gumbo.
He took her hand and led her back out on the dance floor, but this time when he looked into her eyes, she knew his mind was only on her.
"Cherie, I have to admit to some powerful feelings for you."
Tiffany felt his hands roam her back as they danced a slow seductive tune. It seemed as if they were alone instead of in her mothers house surrounded by a room full of people. Her mind was racing, but her lips were silent as she leaned against him and felt the hard contours of his body through his suit. She laced her fingers around his neck and brushed his cheek with her lips.
"What are you thinking, Tiffany?"
"We have a confusing relationship, Justin. On the one hand you are my mothers surgeon, and I admire and respect you for that."
He stepped back from her and watched her closely.
"Is that going to be a problem for you? I don’t want hero worship here, Tiffany, I am a man as well you know."
She started to answer him when a loud scream cut the air. Abruptly the music stopped and everyone migrated towards the front bedroom where the coats were laid out and the scream originated.
"Dr. Mathews, please, we need you at once!" Susan rushed up to him.
Justin dropped Tiffany’s hand and walked rapidly through the gathering crowd into the smaller room. Half on the bed and half on the floor, the tall angular body of Jill was draped unceremoniously.
Her neck was twisted, and her head hung at a strange angle. The knotted rope that had been used to garrote her lay about her slender neck. Her hair fell in a silken veil over her face which wore an expression of sheer horror.
He examined the body briefly, but he knew from the start that it was useless. She was quite dead. Who ever had murdered her knew exactly what he was doing.
Tiffany came into the room behind him.
"Oh my, no!" She stared in disbelief at the body on the bed. A scrap of paper with some writing on it caught her eye as it lay beside the body on the bed. Tiffany leaned over to pick it up.
"Adieu, Jill, Adieu" was all it said. Tiffany looked at Justin examining the body and shook her head. It couldn’t be, could it? He had been with her all evening. He could not possibly be involved with Jill’s murder but that word "adieu"?
The sirens sounded outside the house, and detectives and policemen were everywhere. Tiffany clutched the note in her hand, not sure what she would do or say about it. Justin finished with the body and gave his statement to the police homicide detective Ross when he entered the room. Then he walked to Tiffany’s side.
"Are you all right?"
Instead of answering, Tiffany handed him the note and waited for his response.
"Sergeant, Miss Faire found this note." Justin handed the note over at once.
"Thank you, Dr. Mathews. Where did you find the note, Ma’am?" His eyes were alive, curious, in a heavy jowled face with curly gray hair.
Tiffany felt a flood of relief that Justin was not trying to hide anything. "I saw the note on the bed beside the body when Dr. Mathews was examining Jill."
Sgt. Ross glanced around the room. "This piece of paper looks like it came from that notepad on that bedside table. Who was Jill, Miss Faire?" Sergeant Ross asked while scribbling notes on a pad.
"She was one of our top models. I have a file on her at my office."
"When we finish here, we will accompany you to your office so we can retrieve the file and notify her next of kin." He finished speaking and crossed the room to speak to one of his men near the door.
Louisa Prince stepped into the room with one of her attendants. She looked at the body and gasped. Tiffany thought she looked like she was going to faint as her knees began to buckle, but, with considerable effort, Louisa remained standing. Then she said something in a harsh whisper to her maid.
"Did you know this woman?" The sergeant questioned Louisa as she stood near the bedroom door.
"She was the model who modeled the dresses that I bought the other day at the Clothes Horse."
"When Mrs. Prince wanted to inspect some gowns, Jill modeled them for her, Sgt. Ross," Tiffany explained. It did look odd, a woman of the world like Louisa Prince being so effected by the death of a model she barely knew. But perhaps they struck up a friendship the other afternoon. Tiffany was not sure what the connection was.
"Sergeant, I received a phone call the other night, very late. A man’s voice, harsh and whispering as if disguising his voice, he said, "Adieu, Tiffany, adieu." Tiffany spoke to the policeman, but her eyes were on the note in his hand.
"Did you have any idea who the caller might be."
"None, it was the middle of the night, and the call startled me awake." Tiffany saw a look of fear on Louisa Prince’s face as she listened to the exchange.
The sergeant noted everything that Tiffany said, and his eyes showed obvious concern.
"That could constitute a threat, Miss Faire."
Tiffany put her hand to her mouth in alarm. Dr. Mathews put his hand on her shoulder and stared at the sergeant.
"I tried to tell myself it was just a prank caller, but something about the voice made me think there was more to it then that." Tiffany confessed.
"You haven’t had any more phone calls?" The sergeant questioned.
"No," Tiffany said definitely.
Sgt. Ross rubbed his jaw and frowned.
"Can Dr. Mathews and I go to the other room and see about my mother? She recently had surgery."
"Of course, but our business is far from over, Miss Faire."
Dr. Mathews took her hand and led her from the room as thoughts flew in Tiffany’s mind.
"You had a late night call while you were alone in the house?" He turned to look her in the face.
"Yes, but I’ve lived alone for some time, and I just passed it off as some kind of prank with very poor timing." Tiffany explained. She noticed his grip on her hand tightened.
"There is too much coincidence here with the note and your late night caller, Tiffany. I don’t like to think of you and your mother alone in this house," Justin muttered, as they walked through the room with people huddled in small groups discussing the murder.
"Tiffany, I am suddenly so tired." Diane said as they walked up.
"Are you feeling all right, Mrs. Faire?" Dr. Mathews said and he took her wrist, checking her pulse.
"Just exhausted. Jill was such a lovely girl. I can’t think why anyone would want to commit such an unspeakable act of violence against her." Diane shook her head sadly, cancer could have ended her own life prematurely but surgery and chemotherapy had spared her. Life becomes more precious when you look over the fragile edge.
We’ll get you to your room, mother, and then you can get some rest. Anyway, the party is over now." Tiffany took Diane’s arm and led her upstairs to her bedroom.
Justin strolled across the room after Tiffany left with Diane. He watched the crowd and wondered if the killer was downstairs mingling or had escaped into the night through the open French windows in the downstairs bedroom? A cold hand circled his heart as he thought about Tiffany and her mother alone in the house. The police and the crowd were here now, but what about later? And even the presence of a crowd had not saved Jill.
"Well, what do you think, Doc?" the sergeant asked him as he entered the bedroom.
"A very strong man who knew what he was doing. Unusual murder method, isn’t it?" Justin asked as he looked at the body.
"To tell the truth, you don’t get many garrotings. Mafia, voodoo maybe, or some type of madman, it is an odd manner in which to kill someone. Looks like either the murderer came in through the French doors facing on the courtyard, or he mingled with the crowd and possibly left. He looked out the open door into the crowded room and shook his head. Then he finished his investigation of the scene and signaled for the body to be removed.
"Do you know the ladies of the house well? In your opinion could they have criminal connections, Dr. Mathews?"
"Mrs. Faire is my patient, and a sweeter lady I have rarely met. Her daughter seems to me to be an equally lovely lady. I seriously doubt that either of them would be involved with any sort of criminal activity."
Sgt. Ross shook his head, "Hard to figure why the killer chose the party to attack his victim. It’s almost like he is seeking publicity."
Justin suppressed a shudder. "That would fit the madman theory." He looked up to see Tiffany coming down the stairs. She seemed to float, a vision in fuchsia. Her face was solemn, and he knew that she had much to be concerned about. A small man with blonde hair and bright blue eyes met her at the bottom of the stairs and engaged her in an intense discussion. Justin let curiosity get the better of him, and he left the bedroom and crossed to the stairs.
"John, this is Dr. Justin Mathews, mothers plastic surgeon. John is my right hand man at the shop. I couldn’t do it without him, and he is an excellent tailor if you are ever in need on one."
"Nice to meet you, Dr. Mathews. Tiffany, as I was saying, I can move in here until this whole business is settled. I can’t let you and Diane stay alone in this house with a murderer on the loose." John was red in the face and fairly shouting.
"John, that is sweet of you, however, I wouldn’t think of turning your life upside down like that. Chances are, this is a one time thing, and this particular murderer will never be heard from again. I can’t think who could have been so angry at Jill that he would resort to murder, but one never knows."
"Tiffany, I, too, am concerned about you and your mother alone here." Justin chimed in.
She turned to look at him, her green eyes flashing. "I won’t be forced to live my life in fear. Mother and I can take care of ourselves, we always have. Mrs. Anton can stay with mother during the day for a time."
Justin stepped back, admiring her courage, but worried about her safety none the less.
"Miss Faire, I’m sorry to interrupt. We really need to accompany you to your store so we can collect Jill’s personnel file and contact her relatives." Sergeant Ross joined the small gathering at the foot of the stairs.
"Yes, of course, Sgt. Ross." Tiffany turned to face Sgt. Ross and offered her hand to Dr. Mathews.
Justin felt the touch of her hand and the unspoken request on her lips. "I’ll go with you."
"I’ll stay here with Diane," John spoke up.
"Oh, thank you, John, I really appreciate that." Tiffany gave a sigh of relief and tossed her long blonde mane as she walked with Justin across the room and out the front door following Sgt. Ross.
She climbed into the back of the police car with Justin and settled into the seat conspicuously. What would the neighbors think? Since her fathers death seven years ago, the days of police cars bringing him home drunk had ended. The last drinking bout and the fatal hemorrhage flashed across her mind. All that blood. Daddy, Daddy, why didn’t you stop after what the doctors told you? The little girl in her cried out hopelessly across the years.
Justin seemed to sense her uneasiness, and continued to hold her hand.
"This all seems so unreal. I guess I’m just tired - confused." Tiffany stammered.
Justin put his arm protectively around her shoulders. "This is a nasty business, Tiffany."
"I was so looking forward to this evening, and the party and now everything has changed, poor Jill." She bowed her head for a second then slowly she looked up at Justin. She had never felt so close to a man as she did at that moment. He was there for her, totally there, and she knew it. Her father had been a sick man, she understood that now, but there were so many disappointments in her childhood when his drinking had come ahead of her needs. She had put up a wall between herself and all men. They would not get close enough or matter enough to hurt her ever again. If ever a man stood a chance of breaching that wall, Justin Mathews was that man, and the very thought sent a shiver through her.
Riverwalk loomed ahead, almost deserted in the late evening. It was an intriguing shopping complex along side the river. Tiffany got out her keys and jumped out of the car when they stopped so she could open the doors. Justin followed swiftly behind her. Above the shops, the Mississippi Queen gambling boat was docking. As the policemen followed, Tiffany led the way down the mostly deserted halls, few shops were open in the late night.
Tiffany looked up as the patrons began streaming off the gambling boat on the floor high above them. Armani Prince surrounded by his entourage, including several young women, started down the stairs overhead. Tiffany figured the stocky men who were never far from his side, must serve as his body guards. She wondered if Louisa Prince had left the house by now and returned to her own home? Would Louisa see or even hear from her wandering husband tonight? What a strange relationship.
Inside the dress shop, Tiffany opened the file cabinet and pulled out Jill’s folder. She handed the manila folder to Sgt. Ross.
"Looks like most of her relatives live in the Albany, Georgia area. She has a brother here, guess I’ll try his number first. I hate making these late night calls." Sgt. Ross mumbled as he thumbed through the file.
"Go ahead and use the phone on the desk, Sergeant." Tiffany offered.
He sat down at the desk and slowly picked up the phone.
Tiffany stepped back closer to Justin, seeking his warmth as Sgt. Ross dialed the number. The office was drab without the flash of colors from the dresses in various stages of design and completion during working hours. It seemed strangely quiet except for the drone of Sgt. Ross speaking on the phone. Tiffany rarely experienced this side of her establishment. It could be almost spooky.
"Well, her brother was home, and I gave him the bad news. Poor guy, he was really shook up. He said she was a good kid, never in any trouble, and a hard worker."
"I can testify to that. Modeling is not all glamour, and Jill was always on time and very professional." Tiffany responded as she shook her head sadly.
"Can we take Miss Faire home now, Sergeant? I’m sure she is exhausted." Justin inquired as he placed his hand on her shoulder. Tiffany looked at Justin and half closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth of his hand.
"It’s a wrap, nothing more we can do here. We’ll drop you both back at the house." Sgt. Ross headed out the door.
Inside the squad car, Tiffany settled into the seat and leaned against Justin slightly with her head in her hands.
"We’ll have you home soon, Tiffany," Justin said soothingly against her hair.
"Thanks, Justin." she said with feeling. In no time, they pulled up in front of the now deserted house.
Justin helped her out of the police car and walked with her to the front door. He was troubled about leaving her there, but a certain wariness had crept in. Was she just impressed with his statis as her mothers physician? She had mentioned that as a problem. And what about the growing attraction he was feeling for her? When she was in his arms he wanted those moments to last forever. But things were happening all too quickly for him to make any sense of them.
"Tiffany, I hate leaving you alone." He glanced nervously around the area as the police car pulled away.
"From the looks of things, no one is left here but John, and he is a very dear friend to mother and me. I’m sure he will spend tonight with us." She took the key from her handbag and unlocked the heavy carved front door.
"Call me if you need me, any time of the day or night, Tiffany." He handed her a card with his beeper number on it.
She took the card with a wan smile. "Thanks, Justin, you have been a dear this whole evening."
"I want us to have a real date, Tiffany. How about dinner one night soon? We can include your mom if you’d like?" He looked hopefully into her eyes.
"Sure, give me a call, and we’ll plan a time." She handed him her business card and penned her home number on it hastily.
He grasped her hand and pulled her close. Startled, she looked up at him, but she grinned as he bent to kiss her lips.
Justin groaned, her lips tasted even sweeter then he had imagined. He couldn’t quite bring himself to let her get away without that one kiss. It was so tempting to let one kiss lead to another, but he straightened reluctantly and watched her go in.
"Goodnight, Justin." She murmured as she closed the door.
Those green eyes were going to haunt him until they were together again, he thought woefully as he strolled off into the night and his waiting car.

Chapter Three

Tiffany kicked off her high heels, picked them up by the straps and twirled around in her stocking feet. That kiss was definite evidence that Dr. Justin Mathews thought of her as more than a friend or the daughter of a patient. The way he had been looking at her when he left, was it her imagination, or did that look say "ice cream"! All she knew for sure was that when she looked into his dark warm eyes, she was thinking ice cream. Some paradox, "hot" ice cream. The pink cloud feeling was so good that Tiffany wanted to hold on to it. Still, at the edge of her awareness crept the cold hand of fear that no man was to be trusted or depended on ever. She had learned that at an early age.
The house was quiet. John would be sleeping in the bedroom next door to her mothers. He was a dear man, devoted to Diane. He could go out on his own with his business acumen at any time, but he chose to stay with "The Clothes Horse" out of loyalty. In the darkened house, his presence did much to dispel her fears. Although John’s build was slight, he was very muscular and capable of moving the heaviest mannequins and boxes of merchandise with ease. She was confident he could be quite a hurdle to a potential murderer. Maybe Justin, like John, could be trusted at least a little bit, Tiffany thought wistfully.
She tiptoed upstairs quietly, holding on to the polished mahogany banister as she went. A shiver went through her as she spied the doorway to the downstairs bedroom taped with yellow warning police tape so no one would wander in and disturb evidence. She would have to contact Jill’s family and find out about the funeral arrangements tomorrow, poor Jill.
* * *
Louisa Prince glanced at the luxurious night gown laid out on her bed with contempt. Armani would not be there again tonight.
"Who knows where he goes?" she uttered with despair.
"Mistress?" Her faithful maid, Hoyida questioned.
"I wish I were home with the Fellahin." Louisa turned away from her bed with a tear in her eye.
"The people would welcome you, Mistress."
"And Armani would like to send me back home alone," Louisa declared.
"The blue Nile is particularly beautiful this time of year as it flows from the highlands of Ethiopia through your husband’s cotton fields. Could you not find peace there, Mistress?"
"I was taught that a wife’s duty is to be faithful to her husband. What good has this done me? There is no peace for me anywhere unless Armani returns to my side or I rid myself of him forever."
‘Inshallah," the maid whispered.
"Yes, Hoyida, God willing I will find the answer to my questions soon." She went to the small wooden chest hidden behind the heavy drapes and withdrew the divorce papers she had had drawn up. They were just words on paper unless she decided to go through with it. Divorce by a wife was unheard of in her country. People envied her money and position as the wife of a wealthy man. Few would understand or support her if she decided to divorce him. Even her own children might turn against her. Armani would be furious. He wanted her in the shadows, faithfully waiting his return whenever he decided to grace her with his presence. Doubts assailed her even as she looked at the papers fearfully. She hastily put them back in hiding so one of the other less trustworthy maids would not discover her secret.
Only here in the United States could she divorce him and get a share of his American holdings to live on. She was an educated woman born in a country where fully half of the population was illiterate. Her husband had not stolen all of her dreams. She had a longing to become an independent woman, working and living on her own as did the mother and daughter owners of her favorite dress shop. Tiffany and Diane Faire could leave their homes and business unattended, not under the constant surveillance of maids.
She had moved from her parent’s house into the house of her husband as was the Egyptian custom. A desire for freedom was calling her. She was so very tired of spending her nights alone, endlessly waiting for her husband to return. She had explained all this to Hoyida. But even her faithful maid, Hoyida, did not understand completely. Louisa laid down on the bed with her clothes on, too discouraged to change. A sigh escaped her lips as she touched the empty pillow beside her head.
"It was a terrible thing tonight, the killing of the model, Jill. The method still frightens me, Hoyida." Louisa raised her head to glance at her maid. "It was much like a murder committed in the name of Allah to punish a faithless wife."
"Yes, Mistress, but why would an American model be executed in such fashion? It was just a coincidence. Perhaps you will change into your nightgown now?" Hoyida hovered near the bed with her hands out-stretched and a look of distress on her dusty features.
"All right, Hoyida, I’m sure you will not allow me to sleep in anything less than what would suit the wife of Armani Prince, no matter how empty that title has become." Louisa got up from the bed and began undressing so she could slip on the nightgown Hoyida had carefully laid out.
* * *
Justin laid down on the bed with his long legs askew and stared at the ceiling. Tiffany was a temptress, he decided. Surely no woman had the right to be so dangerously sexy and at the same time so undeniably sweet. He was torn between the need to protect her and the yearning to ravish her. He had to get some sleep, he had an office full of patients to see tomorrow, as well as his hospital patient rounds. He could not remember ever being so distracted by Cynthia. The relationship with Cynthia had been comfortable, no surprises. This thing with Tiffany had barely started, and already he wanted to touch her intimately. He would call and talk to her first thing tomorrow and set up some sort of date, anything to be near her. He stifled a yawn and rolled over to doze off.

Justin looked at the alarm clock with bleary eyes. It was five-thirty, time to get dressed and make hospital rounds. Some birds were making a racket outside his apartment window in the rosy dawn but nothing could annoy him this morning. Thoughts of Tiffany flitted across his mind, and even in his sleepy state, he smiled.
"Damn, it’s way too early to call her," he cursed softly. He got out of bed and stretched, reaching for the closet door to lay out his white coat and gray trousers in preparation for hospital rounds.
The pager system overhead went off blaring his name. He went to the nearest desk and phoned in. Dr. Draggett wanted him to consult in the preop wing, room four-twenty. A car wreck had left a young man with ugly facial wounds caused by flying glass and burns. After surgery for broken bones, he would be in need of plastic surgery.
Justin went into the room and nodded to Dr. Draggett as he assessed the patient’s condition. The patient was under sedation and would be taken to surgery shortly.
"Deep wounds on the forehead, Harmen."
"What can you do for my patient, Justin?"
"The wound running down his cheek from the left eye should be fairly easy to fix, but the forehead may require some skin grafting." Justin touched the face of Dr. Draggett’s patient lightly.
"When he is up to it, tomorrow or the next day, I’ll have you in to meet him and discuss plastic surgery." The older doctor turned and headed towards the door to the operating room.
Justin’s pager went off, he groaned and headed back to the desk where a phone could be found.
"Miss Edwards, no more drug refills for that patient. She has had more than enough time to recover from the pain of a face lift." He realized that he had been short with his office nurse, and it was not her fault the patient was demanding more pain killers than necessary. The interruptions caused him to get behind in his schedule. He still had three more patients to see before he headed back to his office.
"Hey, Dr. Mathews!" A small boy with bright blue eyes and tousled blond curls shouted when Justin entered the room.
"Hey, Tim, how is it going?" Justin pulled the covers down and raised the boy’s pajama top. A run in with a rocket on the fourth of July had left his patient with a nasty scar across his stomach which Justin had done surgery on to correct.
"You are looking better every day, young man. When the risk of infection is over in a day or two, we’ll let you go home."
"Really, Dr. Mathews?"
"Really, Tim."
"You got any jelly beans today, Doc?"
Justin fished in his coat pocket for one of the small plastic bags of candy he kept for his young patients. "You’re in luck, mister." Justin smiled as he handed the jelly beans to Tim.
With a sigh, he turned and headed towards the door. The phone in the hall afforded a little privacy, so Justin ducked behind the pillar and grabbed the receiver.
"Tiffany Faire, please." He clutched the phone and inclined his head slightly.
"Tiffany, it’s Justin. How are you doing after last night?"
"Oh, Justin, well, I’ve had better days. I just got through talking to Jill’s family about the funeral arrangements."
"I’m sorry. What I called to ask is, That date we made for some evening soon, would you have dinner with me tonight?"
"Tonight?"
"Or tomorrow night, if this is too short a notice." Justin pressed, determined to see Tiffany as soon as possible.
"Hey, can I check my schedule and call you right back?"
"I’m not in my office, just use my pager number, okay?"
"Sure, Justin."
He hung up the phone and hurried on down the hall.
"Dr. Mathews, I want to have my sleeping pill no later than nine o’clock and my water is never cold enough and."
Justin wearily eyed Mrs. Thornberry as she intoned a never ending list of grievances. Her three jowls quivered as she recited her complaints. Her cold slate eyes never left his as she pleaded for sympathy.
"I’ll have my nurse check into this for you, Miss Thornberry."
Justin interjected, as he backed out of the room hurriedly. Her treatment for skin cancer had left her in need of plastic surgery. He could understand her anxiety. He breathed a silent prayer, "Lord, give me patience with my patients." Once in the hall, his beeper went off and he headed straight for a phone.
"Tiffany?" Justin clutched the phone expectantly.
"Tomorrow night at seven would be just fine, if you wouldn’t mind stopping by the funeral home after dinner. But there is no way I could see you tonight. Things are a mess." Her low sweet voice with a slight southern drawl filled his ears.
"Sure, we can do that." He hung up on a somber note. He glanced at his watch, he had just enough time to make it to the office for his scheduled appointments. He was always running behind. It would be a day later and he scarcely knew where the hours went.
* * *
Tonight was the night and Justin finished with his last patient on time and pulled out of the parking lot, heading for home and a quick shower before picking Tiffany up. The Jag responded to his touch, and he left traffic behind as dusk gathered. Soon he would be with her again, and his impatience caused him to jam his foot down on the accelerator.
* * *
Diane had left earlier in the afternoon for a beauty shop appointment that Mrs. Anton carried her to. Tiffany was enjoying the quiet house after a busy day at the Clothes Horse. She was dressing for her dinner date with Justin when she heard a curious swishing sound outside her bedroom door. Perhaps Mrs. Anton had returned to do some cleaning?
"Susan?" Tiffany called out hesitantly, as she paused with her dress over her head.
Suddenly the door opened, and Tiffany had the impression of someone in a skirt with some kind of heavy veil over the face, but she was concentrating on getting the dress on and running towards the balcony at the same time. Fear coursed through her veins as the apparition gained on her.
Dark skinned hands grasped at her, catching the bunched dress which she ducked out of as she continued toward the second floor balcony. She collected her wits enough to scream, but she doubted if anyone could hear her. The figure keep coming closer as she rounded the bed. She snatched the chair from her dressing table and threw it on the floor behind her. Her assailant stumbled and make a low guttural sound, almost like an animal.
Tiffany pulled the French door open and rushed through the billowing curtains wearing only her lace teddy, she was thankful for her long legs. She slammed the door and pushed one of the ornate wrought iron chairs under the door knob, successfully stalling her attacker. Then she climbed over the railing and was getting ready to drop to the ground when she recognized Justin’s car pulling into the driveway below.
"Justin!" she screamed with all her might and dropped off the balcony.
Before her feet touched the ground, Justin dashed out of his car and was there to catch her. She felt his arms around her nakedness, and she was so glad to see him she could have wept.
"Tiffany, what happened?" He caught her and spun her around to face him. He had dreamed of seeing her clad scantily and in his arms but not jumping off a balcony in full flight.
"The murderer is upstairs!" She yelled as she clung to him.
Justin put Tiffany down gently and hurried into the house through the back door in time to see the retreating skirted figure racing down the front stairs and out of the front door. He gave chase, but a car waited at the edge of the bushes by the front gate which sped off before he could get a license number. Disgusted, he hurried back to the house.
Tiffany fled upstairs to find something to wear and phone the police.
"Sgt. Ross, I hate to disturb you, but this is Tiffany Faire, and an attempt has just been made on my life," she spoke into the receiver distinctly, trying to hide the panic she felt. She gave Sgt. Ross the low down and then hung up the phone.
Justin looked up as she floated downstairs in a jade green jumpsuit that perfectly accented her eyes. She seemed strangely calm after the attempt on her life.
"I just phoned the police, and they will be here in a few minutes, Sgt. Ross assured me. I would like to eat dinner sometime tonight," she said with a sigh.
"You seem unaffected by this, Tiffany, what gives?" His dark eyes surveyed her intently.
"I guess I’m just beginning to get accustomed to this insanity. What was that thing? A man, a woman, a ghost? My dress is ruined because that thing ripped it right off me. At first I heard a noise, and I thought it was Susan coming to straighten up my room. She took Mother to the beauty shop, and they should be getting back any time now." She paced as she talked, being careful to keep a space between them because if she found herself in his arms, she was sure she would crumble.
"I think I’m losing my mind, Justin. How can these things just keep happening? Who is doing this to us?" She looked at him with tears gathering, and he reached down and kissed her lightly.
"I don’t know who is doing this, Tiffany. Unfortunately, it looks like some kind of mad man. I can’t say why, but the figure I saw running was definitely more masculine then feminine, despite the skirt. I don’t believe in ghosts." He wished with all his heart that he could give her some kind of comfort, but there was none in sight.
Sgt. Ross arrived just as Susan drove up with Diane.
"Sgt. Ross, whatever are you doing here?" Diane asked, puzzled as they approached the house together.
"I’m afraid there has been another incident at the house, Ma’am. Can I be of assistance?"
Susan gave him a sack of groceries with a grateful nod.
"No!" Diane gasped, almost dropping her packages on the driveway.
"Don’t worry, Mrs. Faire, your daughter is okay. Evidently you had an intruder while you were out."
Tiffany opened the door wide and stood back as they entered. Diane rushed to her daughter.
"It’s okay, Mother, nothing happened because I jumped into Dr. Mathew’s arms as he walked up the driveway, and the intruder left out the front door."
"However did he get in?" Diane gasped.
"It may have been carelessness on my part. I’m not sure if I locked the door when I came in from work. I was expecting Dr. Mathews shortly, and I just came upstairs to change. Evidently the intruder came into my room behind me."
"Sgt. Ross, my daughter’s life is in danger, and you must do something."
"As of this moment, we have not got anything definite to go on, Mrs. Faire. The skirted, masked figure is consistent with some kind of voodoo. Believe me, we are checking into every possibility."
Voodoo, black magic, Tiffany glanced at Susan as she stood in stony silence with her black emotionless eyes staring straight ahead. She knew that Susan was not fond of her, but this?
"All right, let’s sit down and go over the details, and then you two can be about your business," Sgt. Ross said gruffly.
Justin cleared his throat and agreed. Having Tiffany land in his arms in a lace teddy was almost more than he could handle. He desperately wanted to be alone with her.
"Mother, when we finish here, would you like to come to dinner with us?" Tiffany glanced up from the table where they were all sitting.
"No, Tiffany, I think I could use a little rest after a busy day. Besides, I think you two young people need to be alone. Thanks for asking, dear."
Justin glanced at Diane with relief. Regardless that she was one of his favorite patients, he really wanted to spend the evening with Tiffany alone.
When Tiffany finished answering questions, she walked to Justin’s side, and he put his arm around her possessively.
"Are you feeling ok, Tiffany?"
"Compared to what, Justin?" She walked ahead of him out the door and into the scent of flowers in the night air.
"You appear so calm on the outside, sometimes it scares me."
"I’m a business woman, Justin. You know how it is. The show must go on." There was a slight tremor in her voice belying her brave exterior.
"Yes, I know the feeling all right, I’m a doctor, and it’s much the same thing. The show must go on no matter what is happening with you." Justin opened his car door for her.
"Just don’t lock me out of your real feelings," Justin told her with a quick kiss on the cheek.
Sure, Tiffany thought to herself, if I know my real feelings. Sometimes it’s not that easy. When you are used to wearing a mask twenty-four hours a day, how can you tell what it is you are feeling?
Walking in from the parking lot to the front of the restaurant, Tiffany liked the ambiance - a small place in the French quarter. Vintage portraits of Elizabeth Taylor and Marilyn Monroe graced the walls with feathered ceramic Mardi-gras masks.
"A bottle of Mont Blanc, please," Justin ordered after they were seated.
When the waiter brought the wine, Tiffany held out her glass and smiled. She had an odd momentary feeling that someone was watching them, and she glanced around the room, puzzled, but saw no one paying them any particular attention.
"The sunshine at last," Justin said, observing her face. He could not resist placing his hand on hers across the table.
She shook her head. "I’m sorry. With everything that has happened, you must think that I’m always frowning."
"No, not really, I see laugh lines around that mouth."
"Thanks, I think." She smiled at the reference to her wrinkles, thinking he was a plastic surgeon, first, last, and always.
Dangerous, Justin thought to himself, as he found himself getting lost in her sparkling green eyes.
"Shrimp cocktail for an appetizer?" He queried her.
"Sure, and I think I’ll have the pettite sirloin medium." She fought the urge to touch his pouting lips with her fingertips. The way he looked at her, she felt like a rare painting or jewel. Those sienna eyes spoke volumes without a word passing between them.
"I - I don’t know what to say, Tiffany. We have only just met but." Justin struggled with his feelings.
Suddenly her eyes grew large, and a silent scream froze in her throat as she watched a snake fall twisting and turning from the skylight above the table.
"What the!" Justin yelled, as he jumped up and grabbed Tiffany around the waist and walked backward away from the table.
"Charlie, bring your cleaver!" the nearby waiter yelled out.
With that, a huge black chef burst through the kitchen doors and dispatched the snake in a heart beat.
"No problem, folks, either this creature wandered into our roof from nearby trees, or some college kids are playing pranks with a harmless snake." The waiter acted as if snakes routinely landed on his table, and he calmly ushered them to another table.
"Woah, what an evening, I don’t know if I can take may more of this fun?" Tiffany mumbled as Justin poured her a fresh glass of wine.
"Now this does look like some kind of voodoo warning. I don’t buy the accidental snake falling from the sky theory." Justin thought out loud.
"I had the feeling we were being watched earlier. Not a friendly feeling. We may have been followed here." She mused.
"We could call the police, but at this point in time, all I want to do is eat dinner in peace." He replied.
"I agree, whoever did this is probably long gone. We can call Sgt. Ross tomorrow and tell him what happened." She said with finality as she tried a jumbo shrimp dipped in cocktail sauce.
She was so blasé about the whole thing that Justin found himself becoming fascinated with her personality. What made this woman tick? He took a sip of his wine and pushed his glass around the table with his finger tips.
"Do you paint?" Tiffany asked him.
"Sketch, how did you guess?" Is she a mind reader, he wondered.
"Being a plastic surgeon is an art form," she told him.
"True, do you paint, being involved with clothing design is also an art form?" He said with a smug look on his handsome face.
"As a matter of fact, I do. You know the Sunday afternoon variety of artist," she answered lightly.
"We could take out sketch pads to the zoo one Sunday afternoon." He looked into her eyes hopefully.
"Do you think that would be wise, what with our friend the snake dropping in for dinner?"
"It doesn’t seem to make any difference what you do or where you go, it’s been danger as usual," he answered.
"You have a point, you are on for some Sunday afternoon sketching, providing I live that long."
They finished dinner at a relaxed pace, and Tiffany looked at her watch with concern.
"Justin, we need to leave for the funeral home now."
"Sure. Waiter, our check please." Justin paid the check and directed an extra tip be paid to the cook for dispatching the snake.
He guided Tiffany from the restaurant and towards the car with a watchful eye in case anyone were still about with evil intent. He eased the Jag into the night and then put his arm lightly around Tiffany’s shoulder.
Chapter Four

Tiffany stood in the back of the chapel, talking with Jill’s family and glancing at the beautiful copper casket holding the still body. One so young, so full of life only a few short hours ago. The pain was all too real in the faces of her family. She realized how sweet it was to be alive with Justin. She could be lying there instead. A shiver ran down her spine, and she stepped closer to Justin.
"Do you want to leave now?" Justin whispered discreetly in her ear.
"Yes. She said softly, sadness in her voice.
He took her hand, and they walked away slowly. He looked at her sad face and longed to hold her close until the pain might ease for her. Once outside, Justin kissed her on the cheek in the soft gathering darkness and opened the car door for her.
"She was so young, such a waste," Tiffany said out loud.
"Hum, her family certainly seemed devoted to her."
"I’m getting past fear and into anger. I hope they catch this nut case and soon," Tiffany declared, biting her lip.
"Would you like to go somewhere for coffee, like my place, and talk?" Justin glanced at her hopefully.
Tiffany turned towards Justin and smiled shyly, "Okay."
Okay. Not no, but not enthusiasm either, Justin thought to himself as he headed the car in the direction of his home. Maybe he could convince her it was a good idea before the night was over. At least, as long as she was with him he did not have to worry about her being alone and vulnerable with a madman on the loose. Getting out of the car, he wrapped his arm around her and held her close, feeling the warmth and sweetness of her. She seemed distant, probably still thinking about Jill and the funeral home.
When they entered the foyer, he was aware that his phone messages were spilling over by the incessant flashing button.
"Do you mind terribly if I listen to those damn messages? Some of them might be important." Justin looked at her quizzically.
"Go ahead, whatever. I’ll just go into your kitchen and make us some coffee."
"Sure, Tiffany, down the hall and to your right, the coffee and filters are in the cabinet right over the coffee maker."
Justin pressed the message button and prepared to listen.
She walked out of the room and paused just out of sight, figuring out which doorway lead into the kitchen and heard a very soft feminine voice.
"Justin, this is Cynthia, your fiancée, and I’m so terribly sorry about the misunderstanding, and I would like a chance to talk. Call me when you get time."
Tiffany froze to the spot. Justin was engaged, a little fact he forgot to mention no doubt. She hurried on in the direction of the kitchen, feeling like a fool. Trust a man, and you deserve what ever you get dealt. A cold hand gripped her heart, and a tear trickled down her cheek. All those warm protected feelings, those longings for something more between them vanished in a heart beat, leaving nothing but pain behind. She found the kitchen and looked around for the coffee maker. A strong cup of coffee, and she would leave Dr. Mathews’ house, never to return.
Damn that girl, now all of a sudden she wants to be engaged to me again. Well, it’s too late for that, Cynthia. In fact, you may be replaced much sooner then either of us imagined. Obviously, you thought I would just be waiting around until you decided to come back. Wrong, dead wrong, girl. Now, what other messages has this machine got for me? When the messages had run through, he made a quick call to the hospital and walked to the kitchen to find Tiffany.
"Perfect timing," Tiffany said as she sadly poured steaming cups.
"Smells wonderful. Tell me, Cherie, how is that darling mother of yours doing?"
"Mom is really feeling ever so much better, your prescription for a party worked wonders. If we ever get free of this criminal hounding us."
"We need to set up her last surgery in a month or so when she is feeling up to it."
Tiffany saw him switch back to the doctor, completely concerned with his patient. She admired his dedication and the genuine concern he showed for Diane.
"I’m sure Mother will be happy to put this all behind her. I will talk to her about it in the next few days and see what time frame we can come up with." She took a sip from the warm cherry cup and put it down on the marble counter behind her. She felt him so near and yet so far. The male scent of him was more inviting than the coffee.
"Tiffany," he took her hand and drew her close, putting his fingers under her chin and lifting her solemn face to his.
She tried to fight her feelings, but when his lips sought hers, she tasted the sweetness of his mouth and opened to the exploration of his tongue. She felt the movement of his hand on her breast, and she moaned, knowing the heat wave that was enveloping her senses could not be stopped.
"Tiffany, talk to me," Justin pleaded as he stroked her body. "I need to know what you are thinking, do you feel anything for me?"
"Justin, oh, Justin, yes, I have oceans of feelings for you but."
"But what?" he asked, shaking his head in frustration.
Tiffany looked at him with tears in her eyes. Even if he was a rogue, she could never feel this way about another man. Maybe she should just settle for whatever he offered. But she wanted all of him and needed all of him or nothing.
"No, Justin, I can’t do this!" Tiffany could not be satisfied with just a little corner of this man’s heart. The pain was unbearable, but she backed away from his arms with her hands pushing against the material of his coat.
Justin turned around and faced the kitchen window, looking out into the darkness. His male hormones were raging, and he needed a minute to change gears. He could tell she was very upset. Was it because he was her mothers doctor or was something else bothering her? After all, he did not know her that well. Only that he had feelings for her that would not quit. He breathed deeply and turned to face her.
"Tiffany, it’s ok. We can just drink our coffee and talk."
"I’m sorry, Justin." Tiffany drank deeply of her strong coffee and put the cup down. She struggled to regain her composure. She was sure he would be completely turned off by her erratic behavior.
"Do you want to sit in the living room or at the kitchen table?" Justin asked matter of factly.
"Kitchen table."
"I’m very attracted to you, Tiffany. Guess I’m trying to rush into things." Justin spread his hands out as they sat down at the table.
"So much has been happening, Justin. Now is just not good for me, for us. Can you give me some time?" Tiffany lied, not wanting to confront him with what she had overheard.
She reached across the table and touched his hand, it was a very strong hand with long fingers. Somehow it was reassuring just to feel the warmth of him. She could feel him tremble slightly, and the thought that he must feel a strong attraction to her was reassuring and frightening at the same time. The touch of his hand felt like an electric current racing through her. His voice haunted her dreams. The pressure of his lips moved mountains within her.
He caught her hand in his and pressed his lips to her finger tips.
"Give us a chance, that’s all I ask, Tiffany."
She looked into his dark warm eyes and was filled with longing and the fear of wanting him so much it hurt.
"I don’t know, Justin. Please take me home, I need time to think."
* * *
Monday morning hit her in the pit of the stomach as she woke from a hazy place where she and Justin were sitting on two chairs, back to back, and feeling very alone. That just about explained the state of affairs between them. All that rain hitting the window, dripping off the bushes and making the flowers droop. She crawled out of bed and reached for her trusty warm peach terry robe, a little frayed around the edges and somewhat the worst for wear, but ever so comfortable. Her big orange cat, Taffy, protested at being disturbed from her favorite resting place, nestled in the robe on the bedside chair.
She looked at the pile of clothes beside her bed with disgust. Wash time again. Diane was not up to her usual housekeeping chores yet, so Tiffany began gathering the clothes for both of them to lug them over to Susan’s house for laundry. Susan usually picked up the basket after Diane sorted the clothes for her, but Tiffany had let the clothes pile up, and she felt guilty about having Susan lug the heavy basket in the pouring rain. She looked at the wall clock and realized she just had time before work to finish the chore. She had grown spoiled living with her mother and being waited on. Coffee in hand, she wandered from room to room, gathering towels and clothing into her basket. She sat the cup down on the kitchen table and sighed. She was doing all of the things she needed to be doing, but her heart was elsewhere, with Justin, wherever he might be. At least the killer had not reappeared, and there had been no spooky phone calls. She was beginning to relax again.
Diane was sleeping late these mornings, trying to regain her strength. Rest was the best medicine, and she couldn’t do any lifting either. She would have to take Diane back to Dr. Mathew’s office at the end of the week for a checkup. But she expected nothing from the visit but to see him briefly with Diane there.
Resting the laundry basket on her car door, Tiffany fished for keys in her purse. Rain pelted her rain scarf and dripped into her eyes. At last she found them and unlocked the door, thrusting the basket of clothes inside, and headed for Susan’s. Susan had been spending more time at Diane’s house since the murder, but she still spent a portion of her time in her own home as was necessary.
Susan’s house loomed on the right, an older, slightly run down house in one of the poorer neighborhoods. Tiffany pulled into the driveway and hauled the overflowing clothes basket out of her car and lugged it up on the porch. Resting the basket against the door while she rang the bell, she waited a minute and then tried knocking. The door opened slightly, evidently left unlocked.
The strong smell of coffee and some kind of incense greeted her as she called out for Susan, but no one answered. Susan must have planned to be gone for only a few minutes to leave the coffee on and the door unlocked, Tiffany reasoned. She cautiously opened the door wide and walked in with her basket. She looked briefly around for a good place to set the basket.
To the right side of the entry hall was a small alcove, the smell of incense wafted from behind a thick curtain with an odd African motif. She sat the basket down and could not resist investigating. She drew back the rough curtain and observed candles flickering on a mantle with a copper brazier where the incense burned. The walls were papered in an old faded rose pattern. The woodwork was dark like the bare wood floor, both scratched and marked with age. On the wall over the mantle was a small framed picture, old and faded like the room.
Something about one of the figures in the photo caught Tiffany’s eye. It hit her that the man in the picture was a young image of her father. He was standing in close union with a dark young pretty woman holding a dark baby. She stood back in shocked silence. When was this picture taken? Who was the woman? Who was the baby?
She put a trembling hand to her mouth and backed out of the suddenly stifling room. What did all of this mean? Who could she ask? Could the photograph be a picture of her father? She left the basket in the narrow hall and rushed back out the door into the pouring rain.
When she got to the shop, she touched the silky material draped across her desk and eyed the pattern with feigned interest. Tears gathered at the back of her eyes and she breathed deeply, feeling the pain of unanswered questions.
"What’s wrong, sweetie, need a cup of tea?"
"Yes. Thanks, John." Tiffany looked up to see him bending over her desk. John was totally devoted to Diane and the Clothes Horse, but he tended to tell tales out of school. She dared not speak to him about what she had seen at Susan’s. She resumed her work when the phone rang.
"The police called me back about the snake that landed on our table in the restaurant the other night, Tiffany." Justin’s voice was strained.
"Justin?"
"They searched the garbage until they found the remains of the snake. It was a deadly poisonous green mamba snake found only in Africa."
"Oh God, Justin!" Tiffany got up from her desk and slammed the door of her office for privacy.
"I guess we should forget the zoo trip for the present time."
"Justin, that’s an understatement. It seems like the zoo is coming to us. I don’t have anyone else to ask, could you give me a little time this week, the sooner the better, like one afternoon." Tiffany’s hand shook as she held the phone.
"What’s up?"
"Mrs. Anton, Susan, our housekeeper. I went to her home to take a basket of laundry. The door was open, and I stepped in to put the basket down and leave her a note. I saw this sort of alter in a side room. There was incense burning and a picture of a man with a woman and a baby hanging on the wall. The man looked a great deal like my father as a young man. I need to go back there and do a little snooping. I can’t tell my mother or the police until I find out what is going on." Tiffany raked her fingers through her hair nervously.
"Tiffany, this could be tied in with the murder. You should tell the police, but I understand why you are hesitant." Justin wondered what he was getting himself into. His normal reserved stance had left him sidelined much of his life. Taking chances simply was not his way. "I see your point, but breaking and entering is not my stock and trade, Chere."
"Nor mine either. I think that Susan is divorced and lives alone since her aunt, who raised her, passed away. When Susan is with Mother, I can slip over there. All I want is for you to know where I am in case anything happens."
"No way, you can’t go in there by yourself after the snake incident." There he said it, like an idiot putting his life and career on the line. He could see the headlines now, local doctor busted for breaking and entering. What was it with his infatuation with this woman? Would he ever be able to say no to her? Justin kicked himself mentally.
"I’ll check with Mom and find out when Susan is going to be with her for a time, and then I’ll call you.
"And you’ll wait until I can get there and not try to go into that house by yourself?"
"Yes, Justin, I promise." Tiffany knew she needed Justin for right now, but she intended to keep plenty of distance between them.
It seemed preposterous, could Susan be trying to kill her? Susan had been with them a long time and before that other members of Susan’s family. Susan’s mother and aunt had worked for Diane ever since she had moved into the house as a young bride. Tiffany had heard her mother talk about them and even remembered the aunt, although Susan’s mother died a long time ago, and Tiffany didn’t remember her. How old was Susan when her mother died? Tiffany never even thought to ask.
"Tiffany, it’s not your thanks that I am after, there is a lot more." Justin reminded her.
"Oh, Justin." Tiffany said with a sigh, shaking her head.
"Got to run, I’ll be talking to you later this week." Justin hung up.
Tiffany put the phone down and paced the room trying to clear her head and refocus on the day’s business. John came bringing the promised cup of tea.
"Thanks, John. By the way, do you know anything about our housekeeper, Susan Anton?"
"Big woman, seems rather quiet, spooky almost, but she does a bang up job as a housekeeper. Diane is certainly satisfied with her. Never heard a word of gossip about her, keeps to herself as far as I know. Is she causing you some problems?" John asked, concerned.
"No, and don’t go spreading any rumors. I was just curious about her, that’s all." Damn, nothing and I was so hoping for some information on Susan, anything to put to rest these awful suspicions I have about her, Tiffany thought to herself. She got up and sipped her tea as she paced the room and then sat down to continue her work.
Several hours slipped by as she cut fabric and sketched on the current designs. At last she picked up the phone and dialed her own number.
"Mom, how are you?"
"Still a little sore and still tired, but other than that, I’m doing great."
"Would you be going out anywhere, you and Susan?"
"Why do you ask, darling? Is there something I can get for you?"
"Well, maybe. Are you planning to go anywhere today or tomorrow?"
"Late this afternoon I was thinking of going to the tea room and meeting a couple of gals from my Bunco club."
"That’s great, mom!"
"I’m not supposed to drive yet, so Susan was going to carry me. What did you want us to pick up for you?"
"Ah…some fresh tomatoes from the vegetable market would be nice in a salad for dinner tonight." Tiffany fished for an answer.
"Sure, only I thought you only liked tomatoes in season."
"Well, I just have a hankering for some now. Anything wrong with that?"
"No, of course not, dear. We’ll stop on our way home."
Tiffany hung up with a satisfied smile. Now, would Justin be able to make it on such short notice? She beeped him and sat back to wait.
"Tiffany?" Justin rang her back on his cell phone.
"Can you meet me here at Riverwalk around three or so, and we’ll drive over in my car?"
"Shit." Justin cursed softly.
"Don’t come." She gritted her teeth at his reluctance.
"No, I’ll be there Tiffany."
* * *
Tiffany was waiting in her car parked in the reserved spot when Justin approached.
"Justin, you don’t have to do this." she began.
"Wrong, Tiffany, I have to be here for you. This is extremely dangerous, end of discussion." His jaw was set, and he intended to hear no more of her arguments as he opened the passenger side of the car and climbed in.
Tiffany glanced at him with longing so intense she thought her insides would crumble. He sat there so determined. His jaw tense and his eyes concentrating on the road as they drove towards the old house and it’s mystery.
As they neared their destination, he turned towards her, his eyes pleading. "Tiffany, what ever happens, I’m here for the duration."
She looked at him in astonishment. She knew his position in the community demanded he act accordingly.
"Thanks, Justin. You’re being here now says a lot."
They pulled up in front of the old house, and Tiffany started searching in her purse and pulled out a credit card with a triumphant smile.
"Are you going shopping, Cher?" He frowned at her, puzzled.
"Watch this. I’ve been locked out of my house a time or two myself."
Tiffany marched up to the door, and Justin held the screen for her. She forced the credit card between the door and the door jam, pushed the bolt back, and opened the door.
"You have a real knack for this." Justin complimented her.
Inside, her confidence vanished, and her fears returned as she opened the curtain and beheld the small picture above the mantle. In addition to the incense burner and the candles lay a crude doll dressed in a scrap of material that Tiffany recognized as the fushia material she had worn the night of the party. Beside it lay a long wicked looking hat pin.
"Justin, look at this."
"Your party dress, I remember the color well, Cherie."
"This isn’t going too well."
"I think we should search the house as quickly as possible and get out of here." Justin looked out the door nervously.
"I’ll take the kitchen, and you take the living room," Tiffany suggested as they left the alcove.
Tiffany walked into the dark kitchen lined with wooden cabinets and a small wooden table in one corner. She searched a pile of mail on the table and found nothing but bills and ads. The first of the cabinets yielded only chipped china, plastic cups, and the like. In the last cabinet, she found some cook books. A dark volume with a half moon on the cover caught her eye.
She opened the cover to find someone had written Susan Faire on the inside cover. The table of contents revealed all manner of spells and the like.
"Justin," she cried out softly.
He came into the kitchen at once.
"Have you found something?"
"You might say that. Look at this," she held the book up for his inspection.
He gave a low whistle of surprise. "Susan Faire on the cover of some kind of voodoo book."
"Voodoo, I just can’t believe Susan is responsible for all this? Is she planning to do away with us and take over the Clothes Horse and use our last name or something?"
"I didn’t find anything else, how about you?" Justin looked at her anxiously.
"No, I think that is enough."
"I know it’s pretty hard to swallow, but we need to get out of here." Justin spoke quietly.
Tiffany turned and put the book back into the cupboard. She picked up her purse on the table and glanced around the room one last time before proceeding Justin out of the musty smelling kitchen
"I don’t know what to do, Justin. Who is Susan Anton, and what is that picture on her wall about?"
He put his arm around her shoulder as they hurried to the car.
Chapter Five

Pulling into her space at Riverwalk, Tiffany was alarmed to see the flashing lights of numerous police cars at the entrance and an ambulance pulling away.
"What the?" Justin jumped out of the car as soon as they had stopped and made his way through the crowd to see if he could be of assistance.
Sgt. Ross was talking to a group of his men when Justin walked up.
"Ah, Dr. Mathews, we meet again." Sgt. Ross beamed at him with recognition.
"Can I be of any assistance?"
"No, but where have you been in the last hour or so?"
A fine sheen of sweat broke out on Justin's upper lip as he tried to think of a good answer not involving breaking and entering.
"Tiffany and I went for a drive. Here she comes now."
"Ah, Miss Faire, you and Dr. Mathews been for a drive?" Sgt. Ross drawled, giving her the eagle eye.
"Why yes, Sgt. Ross. What ever is going on here?"
"About how long have you been gone, Ma’am, if you don’t mind me asking?"
"Only an hour or two, Sergeant."
"That’s convenient for both of you since a lady got garroted in a dressing room of the shop next to yours just after she left your shop with a Clothes Horse shopping bag in her hand less than an hour ago. Stranger still, she bears a strong resemblance to you, Miss Faire. We found a note written on the back of a sales slip in her bag and it had the same message that was found on the body of the model, Jill, ‘Adieu, cherie, adieu.’
"No!" Tiffany’s hand flew to her mouth. "I’ve got to call my mother, please excuse me."
She pushed through the crowd and ran through the mall to her office rushing in with Justin, she grabbed the receiver and hastily punched in the numbers.
"Mom, Mom, are you all right?" Tiffany yelled into the phone when her mother answered. Her mind was racing with terrible thoughts about Diane alone with Susan especially after finding the voodoo doll and book.
"Sure, Honey, Susan and I just got back with your tomatoes."
"Has Susan been with you the whole afternoon?" Tiffany bit her lip as she waited anxiously for her mothers answer.
"Of course, what’s wrong, Dear, you’re acting so upset?"
Justin his hand gently on Tiffany’s shoulder.
"Nothing, Mom, there was an incident at the mall, and I was just worried about you." Tiffany paced with the receiver in her hand.
"An incident?" Came her mothers quick response.
"I’ll tell you about it when I get home. Listen, I really have to go now, Mom."
"Okay, Darling, we’ll talk later."
Tiffany hung up the phone and turned to face Justin.
"Are you going to tell Sgt. Ross about Susan?" He faced her solemnly.
"What can I say? That I broke into her home and found a voodoo book and a strange doll I suspect may represent me? Besides, Susan was with mother the whole afternoon, it couldn’t have been her."
"Cheri, what about accomplices? She could be a voodoo priestess or something." Justin had an ominous expression on his face.
"Susan? I feel she has never really liked me, but she was always so devoted to mother. I’ve known her a long time, since she was a child. And as a young woman who came to work for us after her aunt died and her marriage failed. Her mother worked for my mother from the time she married my father and moved into this house until her untimely death as a young woman. leaving Susan an orphan as a baby to be raised by her maiden aunt, I was only a baby myself, so I do not remember Susan’s mother, but Mom said she was very beautiful and a sweet person. Mom and my father were very fond of her. Susan’s aunt worked for Mother after her sister died and used to bring Susan along to play with me quite often. Aunt Lidel took care of me a lot of the time while I was growing up since my mother was always so busy with the Clothes Horse. Aunt Lidel was very strict and sort of old fashioned, but she was good to me. Susan and I just never hit it off. I liked to climb trees, and she liked to play with dolls. The name in the book, Justin, I need to know who Susan Anton really is before I say anything to anyone." Tiffany was deep in thought as her last sentence trailed off into silence.
He took her into his arms, the desire that was always there on the edge of their encounters muted with the deep concern he felt for her.
"You smell wonderful, Cherie, just the right mix of spring flowers and spice." He inhaled the fragrance of her honey blonde hair as he sifted it through his fingers.
"Justin, oh Justin." She sank against his chest and put her arms around him, feeling the strength and warmth of him.
Sgt. Ross knocked lightly on the office door.
"Come in," Tiffany spoke softly and stepped back from Justin.
"I must drop by to see your mother." Sgt. Ross said as he walked through the door. "Is she all right?"
"Yes, she is fine. I was just worried, the woman being killed here this afternoon and the horrible incident when that thing came after me at home." Tiffany shared her deep concern with Sgt. Ross.
"That’s understandable, but I’m more worried about you, Miss Faire. The snake falling on your table, and the apparition chasing you in your home, and now a woman who resembles you being murdered next door to your shop. We found another note in her shopping bag with the same cryptic message, "adieu, cherie, adieu." There is a pattern here, and I expect I’ll have to take a trip down to Madam Marie Boudreaux’s shop to see if she can give me any clues." Sgt. Ross expounded on the case.
"You talk to Madam boudreaux?" Tiffany asked incredulously.
"Yes, I do on occasion. She has a lot of insight into voodoo, and we have a few murders from time to time that are related to that sort of thing." Sgt. Ross folded his arms across his broad chest defensively.
"I don’t like this, Cheri, things are getting pretty murky," Justin’s dark eyes flashed a warning.
"I have a better idea. I can ask Madam Boudreaux to meet us at your home, Miss Tiffany, and she can check the place over." Sgt. Ross proposed as he stared into space.
"My house?" Tiffany gasped, holding on to her desk.
"Hum. Sometimes she can sense things simply by being in a place where voodoo has been practiced," he explained.
"Really, I’d like to see that," Justin said, his scientific hackles rising.
"Tiffany pointed to the phone, "Go ahead and call Madam Boudreaux, Sgt. Ross, Mother is at home."
"And Susan Anton, is she there also?" Sgt. Ross asked pointedly.
"Yes, what does that mean? Susan was with Mother all afternoon." Tiffany felt compelled to explain. She wondered if Sgt. Ross had his suspicions about Susan.
The detective picked up the phone and placed a call. He spoke in muted, tones and when he was through, he turned to the others.
"Madam Boudreaux will meet us at the house. Let’s get going. I’ll call in my report on this latest homicide on my way over." Sgt. Ross walked to the door and turned the knob.
"I’ll follow you to your house, Tiffany," Justin said softly in her ear.
Tiffany picked up the phone and called again to let her mother know what was about to take place. She hung up, and Justin followed her out to the parking lot. He stood beside her car and held the door for her, lightly brushing her lips before she closed the door. Tears welled up in her eyes as he walked away.
"Damn him!" I care so much, and I don’t want to feel this way!" She muttered as she pounded her fists on the steering wheel before she pulled away from the curb.
Justin parked in the circular driveway behind Tiffany’s car. He hesitated. She was already inside. What was going on with her? She was so vulnerable and so very beautiful, yet she was putting distance between them at every opportunity. He could feel her holding back, withdrawing from him, and it hurt.
But he wanted to see this voodoo queen in action. Everything in his scientific mind rebelled at the notion of voodoo being anything but a hoax. Why would a police detective consult a woman like this? He had to find out exactly what was really going on.
"Dr. Mathews."
"Susan," Justin intoned, looking at Susan curiously. What would she think about Marie Boudreaux coming to the house? Her dark eyes said nothing as he walked past her into the living room where everyone was gathered.
"Mrs. Faire, you are looking splendid as usual, how are you feeling?" Justin asked as he spied Diane perched on the edge of her chair.
"Oh fine, Dr. Mathews, really just doing great but looking foreword to getting my strength back and going back to work." She rolled her eyes at him.
"After your check up Friday, I’d say you can go back in about three or four weeks, but I want you to just relax and enjoy life until then." He smiled at her, thinking what a go getter Diane was.
"Susan, would you mind bringing us some glasses of mint tea?" Tiffany inquired as she walked into the room, purposely staying on the opposite side from Justin.
He looked at her with longing, she had changed into a pair of camel slacks that hugged her graceful legs. He could imagine those legs wrapped around him, and he attempted to move closer to her without being too obvious. Just as he had almost reached his goal, the door opened, and in walked Sgt. Ross and a small dark lady dressed in a long emerald skirt that swished around her with each step. Her eyes were a shimmering silver color behind wire framed spectacles. She had dark gray hair done up in braids atop her head.
"Madam Marie Boudreaux, may I present Diane Faire and her daughter, Tiffany, their housekeeper, Susan Anton, and Dr. Justin Mathews," Sgt. Ross intoned as he entered.
She nodded her head and stood looking around the room before making her way to the satin covered sofa in the center of the room.
Susan carried the tray of tea glasses around the room. Justin was almost positive that there was a glance of recognition between Susan and Madam Boudreaux when Susan handed a glass of tea to the voodoo queen.
Susan passed behind Tiffany’s back, grazing her with the heavy tea tray.
"Ouch!" Tiffany muttered.
"Oh, excuse me, madam." Susan said in an exaggerated manner.
Tiffany glanced back at Susan in time to see a smirk on her dark features.
"Marie, I brought you here in connection with a series of murders and attempted murders beginning in this house."
"Of course, I know that, Sgt. Ross." She looked at him with a touch of scorn.
"What else do you know, Marie?" Sgt. Ross looked at her expectantly.
She held her long fingered hands out and seemed to be feeling the air for a time. She looked out the French doors at the flowers blooming there and seemed to study something.
"It is my opinion that these murders are not voodoo, Sgt. Ross." She looked at him with a deep scowl on her face. "Really, Sgt. Ross. I don’t get any connection with the darkness here."
"Something chased Miss Tiffany upstairs, would you like to see that room?" Sgt. Ross asked hopefully.
"No, it is not necessary. Thank you very much for the tea." She paused to take a long sip. "I’m sorry that I can’t help with this investigation. It was very nice meeting all of you." She settled back on the sofa and smiled slyly.
"That’s it? Not very convincing," Justin grumbled.
"You were hoping for a demonstration of my powers so that you could debunk me, Dr. Mathews?" She looked at him with eyebrows raised.
"You could say that, Madam Boudreaux." He itched to ask her where she knew Susan from, but he knew he should stay out of it. Justin drank from his tea in tense silence.
"Please excuse me, I am going to step into the kitchen with Susan," Diane interjected, leaving the room.
"Everything that has been happening suggested voodoo including a green mamba snake being dropped on a table where Dr. Mathews and Miss Faire were dining." Sgt. Ross persisted with his reasoning.
"Green Mamba snake? That does sound like voodoo, Sgt. Ross. But I am really not getting any vibes here. Still nothing is fool proof. Maybe something is blocking my perceptions?" It was Madam Boudreaux’s turn to be perplexed. She turned her silver eyes on Sgt. Ross with renewed curiosity.
"Susan is cooking up some of her earth shaking crawfish etoufee tonight, would all of you like to stay awhile?" Diane smiled at the small gathering invitingly as she returned from the kitchen.
"Ah, Mrs. Faire, is there anything I can do to help in the kitchen?" Sgt. Ross asked eagerly.
"Of course, Sgt. Ross, I am sure we can put you to work."
"Please, call me Milton, Mrs. Faire," his pale blue eyes sparkled as he allowed himself to take in her figure beneath her apron.
"And you may call me Diane, Milton. Just follow me." Her grin was real as she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. She had thought that part of her life was over after the mastectomy, and here was this rather good looking man flirting with her. A police detective no less.
"Madam could help me clean de crawfish while I start de sauces." Susan inquired as Diane and Sgt. Ross entered the kitchen.
"An apron, Milton?" Diane offered a smart checkered number to the sergeant.
He smiled as he took the apron from her and succeeded in touching her hand. Diane blushed, feeling those warm feminine feelings again as she crossed to the refrigerator and began taking out the crawfish and handed them to Sgt. Ross who had stationed himself at the sink
Susan melted butter in one of her pots and began adding various spices that sent pungent smells wafting from the kitchen.
"What exactly do you sell in your shop, Madame Marie?" Justin asked, unable to contain his curiosity.
"Hum. Books, charms, decorative things for tourists. Maybe you could use a love charm, Dr. Mathews?" She smiled watching him try to move closer to Tiffany as she edged discretely away from him.
"Maybe something like that." Justin appeared chagrined at being observed.
"Tiffany, would you like to come into the kitchen and chop tomatoes?" Diane called out.
"Sure, Mother. Come on Justin." She took his hand with reluctance to lead him into the kitchen. His hand felt warm and strong, and he impishly messaged her palm as they walked, sending chills of delight up and down Tiffany’s spine.
"Madam Boudreaux, would you care to join us in the kitchen?" Tiffany invited her.
"No, child, I need to sit here alone and commune with the spirits." She settled back on the sofa and gazed into space, almost trance like.
"You could join me at my apartment after the etouffee, Cherie," he whispered in her ear as they neared the refrigerator.
She looked into his dark brown eyes alight with an inner fire, promising her all the love her lonely soul could ever hold.
"You do make the most tempting offers, Justin." She looked at him directly with sassiness. "I’ll decide that later."
"Later, Cherie." A grin lit up his eager face from ear to ear.
The tomatoes felt firm and cool under the running water as Tiffany handed them off to Justin who was deftly chopping them into fine pieces on a cutting board of hickory that had been in the family for years.
"Smells wonderful, Susan," Tiffany said as she scooped the chopped tomatoes into a bowl for Susan to add to the boiling spices.
"Cajun people, we make the best cooks, Miss Tiffany," Susan remarked proudly.
"Maybe I should learn some of your recipes. I might need them one of these days," she said, looking at Justin with undisguised longing.
"I’ve never seen that look in your eyes before, Miss Tiffany. Too bad for you." Susan said softly for her ears, a smirk on her face.
"Am I that obvious?" Tiffany asked sadly, catching the look on Susan’s face. Why does she dislike me so? If only Justin were totally available, she would move heaven and earth to have him. What kind of relationship did he have with Cynthia anyway? He never mentioned her or called her or anything that Tiffany knew of.
Susan had seemed just a bit sympathetic to her now. More than she ever remembered her being in the past. Surely Susan did not want her dead. Not Susan, a trusted servant in her home for years.
"Diane, is this crawfish ready for the pan?" Milton asked as he looked at the sink full of seafood.
"Looks ready to me. Susan?"
"Mon amies, yes I think that you can add the rest of de ingredients to our etouffee now." Susan’s face was flushed with the heat from the stove, and her dark hair hung in tendrils around her face, but her dark eyes were lively, a startling change from the stoic demeanor she usually had.
"Step aside, Justin, I believe it is time for Milton to add the shellfish to our dish!" Diane shoed Justin away from the pot he had been busy stirring.
Milton took over the spoon from Justin and added the shellfish to the boiling pot.
"Thank you all for helping. Now you can go set the table while I finish up out here." Susan invited them gracefully to leave her kingdom.
"You two, grab the silverware and napkins while Milton and I bring the plates," Diane directed the troops as they retreated from the kitchen into the dinning room. She began laying her graceful white china on the gaily printed tablecloth. Fatigue laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, Diane wandered into the living room and dropped down beside Marie where she sat on the sofa staring into space.
"The answers, I just don’t see any answers, and this distresses me, Mrs. Faire." She turned her luminous silver eyes on Diane, searching her face.
"I know what you mean. Since this whole thing began with the terrible death of Jill, one of my best models, nothing makes any sense. But I know that Milton, Sgt. Ross was really hoping that you might have some insight into things." Diane patted Marie’s thin hand, noticing the unusual silver ring she wore for the first time.
"I am a voodoo queen, and this ring has been in my family for generations. It is a sign to my people of my powers. My mother and her mother before me had the gift." She twisted the large ring on her slender finger as she spoke.
Diane flinched and moved away from Marie slightly. "I cannot judge what I do not know. Sgt. Ross had faith in your good will, or he would not have brought you here, Marie."
"You used to have the gift, Marie, until today." Sgt. Ross chided her as came into the living room and sat in a nearby lounge chair.
"So it would seem." Marie agreed, shaking her head.
"Dinner is served," Susan announced, coming into the living room just as Justin and Tiffany finished setting the table.
"We can all take a seat," Diane announced, and she took Sgt. Ross by the arm and led him to a place beside her at the table.
"Yes, Ma’am," Justin agreed as he followed Tiffany into the dinning room.
Milton took a heaping portion of the bright red crawfish on his gleaming white plate and passed the platter.
"Oh, I forgot a dish for shells. Susan could you bring us some?" Diane requested.
"Yes, Ma’am," Susan hurried towards the kitchen.
"She is such a dear." Diane watched Susan retreat. When Susan returned, Diane continued, "I don’t know what I would have done without you these past weeks, Susan. Please join us at the table, dear."
"Susan looked startled, and a tear gathered at the corner of her eye. "Why thank you, Ma’am." She hurried to bring another place setting to the table and joined the party.
Tiffany had to admit that Susan had been very good to her mother. The discoveries she had made in Susan’s home made her uncomfortable, but she tried to quell the feelings of danger she felt in Susan’s presence.
"Mother and I can never express our gratitude to you, Susan," Tiffany echoed her mothers sentiments.
"Thank you both so very much, but it was my pleasure." Susan looked at Diane with unashamed admiration in her eyes. "Madam has been so very brave."
"Enough drivel," Diane declared.
Tiffany toyed with her fork and pretended to eat while watching Justin shyly and wondering what the evening would bring.
Milton finished his dinner first and put his napkin down, declaring that it was the finest food he had eaten in years.
"Miss Susan, you have my compliments. And in appreciation, I’m going to tackle those dishes."
"Sgt. Ross, I could not possibly let you do that. It will only take me a minute. I’ll bring all of you coffee in the den.
"None for me, thanks, Susan. It was an excellent dinner, and I appreciate your having me, but I must be going. The last trolley runs shortly." Marie Boudreaux rose and prepared to leave.
"If you find out anything, Marie, please call." Sgt. Ross rose to see her out.
"Yes, I understand how important this is to all of you. I am only sorry that I don’t have any information for you at this time. It is very difficult to live with the threat of danger surrounding one." Her silver eyes swept the people in the room one last time as she prepared to leave.
Diane walked into the den with Milton after he returned from showing Madam Boudreaux out and seated herself on the sofa with a sigh of weariness.
"Do you need me to leave now, Diane," Sgt. Ross asked her with concern in his voice.
"No, no, Milton. I’m just a little tired. After the coffee, I’ll be fine. Where are you two off to," she asked as she observed Justin and Tiffany heading for the door.
"An evening stroll, Mother." Tiffany said, her cheeks coloring slightly.
"Nice night," Milton observed sagely.
"Excellent," Justin rejoined with gusto as he put his hand on Tiffany’s shoulder and started out the open door.

Chapter Six

Justin put his hand on her waist, guiding her gently into the courtyard. The moon- light glistened on the damp leaves. He inhaled the fresh clean smell left after the rain. She was beside him, and they were alone at long last. She was as warm and inviting as the sun after a dark night. He felt as if he had lived his whole life alone until he met her.
She whirled to face him in a dark corner beside the magnolia tree that towered above them. He put his arms around her and brought her close, pressing the softness of her body against him in a passionate embrace.
"Tiffany, what am I supposed to do about you, about us?"
"Justin, oh, Justin, just hold me." She returned his embrace feeling her fears and reservations melt in the heat of him. What ever the uncertain future, they had tonight at least.
He bent his head and kissed her full on the lips, releasing the passion that had been burning inside of him since he met her.
"Come with me, Tiffany." He breathed into her hair.
Tiffany was overcome with love for this very special man in her life, and, lost for words, she could only nod her head. Justin took her hand and led her to his car.
"I love you, Justin Mathews," Tiffany whispered into his ear as he opened the car door for her. "The others will wonder where we went to," she added as an after thought.
A smile spread from ear to ear, and Justin looked at her in amazement.
"Really, Cher? You love me? As for the others, let them wonder." He felt as if a load of bricks had been lifted from his heart. He knew he had to have this woman for his very own or die trying. The ride to his place was accomplished in minutes. The moon raced with the clouds, creating a backdrop of beauty to the hanging moss that dangled from the trees. Arriving at his place, the stone entrance spelled fortress. He held her hand and led her inside the marble floored entry hall. He paused to lock the door against the outside world, and, for once, he did not even check his answering machine for the messages that he knew would be there.
"Do you want a drink or coffee?"
"Do you have any white wine?" She looked at him curiously.
"Blue Nun?"
"Wonderful, I think." She hesitated, seeming unsure.
He kissed her lips sweetly and went to the refrigerator for a chilled bottle of wine. She followed him into the kitchen. He opened the cupboard and took two wine glasses and guided Tiffany into the living room.
He sat the wine bottle in an ice filled bucket on the glass topped coffee table and poured wine for the both of them. He offered her a glass. She was like a beautiful rare bird seated next to him on the massive sofa that dominated his living room, ready to take flight at any moment. Would she stay with him or fly away at the slightest provocation?
Tiffany bit her lip and sipped her wine. "It is delicious, Justin." She smiled at him. She was committed to spend this evening in his arms. Regardless of his fiancé or any other consideration. Thinking back, she had wanted to be in his arms from the very first meeting. It felt good, natural to be here, alone with the man she loved. She was being stalked by a mad killer, this might be her only chance at love. At the thought of the attempts on her life, she shivered, wondering if the killer might have followed them and was lurking outside, waiting for an opportunity.
Sipping her wine and glancing at the French doors across the room, she wondered
how safe they were? Medical books dominated the book shelves on the back wall. A basket ball rested in a special niche there, she wondered if he played?
" Cherie, I would take no chances with your safety." He reassured her when he noticed her nervous glance at the outdoors.
He understood her fear, it was natural considering all that had happened. He wrapped his arms protectively around her and held her close. Then bent his head to take her lips in a light teasing kiss that deepened as he held her close.
She felt a quickening of her pulse as she slipped her tongue into his accepting mouth and tasted the sweetness of the man.
He pulled away and took off his glasses and laid them on the huge glass coffee table, "These darn things get in the way," he mumbled.
"And we don’t want anything getting in our way," she answered in a sultry voice.
He placed his hand on her breast, softly kneading the fullness as he unbuttoned her blouse with his other hand. She ran her fingers through his soft chestnut hair and kissed the side of his neck.
"Tiffany," he breathed in her hair as she kissed his neck, and chills ran through his body.
He reached around and undid the lacy bra to touch the rosebuds of her nipples. He bent his head and teased first one and then the other with his tongue. Tiffany sighed with pleasure and undid the buttons of his shirt. She touched his strong hairy chest and kissed his nipples.
"Can we adjourn this meeting to my bedroom, Cher?" Justin asked, breathing deeply.
"If you like," Tiffany smiled at him.
"I like, Cherie!" Justin raised his eyebrows and gave her a knowing wink then rose and helped her up.
Tiffany liked the looks of his bedroom, creams and beiges, an oversized sleigh bed, and king sized dresser. She got her answer about his involvement with basketball, there was a nerf basketball hoop on the wall and numerous pictures of him and a team and some trophies on a shelf. She stopped before the pictures and inspected them while Justin came up behind her and finished undressing her. He quickly disposed of his clothing and embraced her nakedness against himself. He kneaded her naked breasts and then touched the place of her desire and whispered in her ear words of love and caring that Tiffany had never heard before, never allowed herself to hear before.
"Cher, you make me burn with desire. Please be mine tonight. I will never leave your side."
"Justin, please don’t make me promises you can’t keep."
"Why, why don’t you trust me? I want you, Tiffany, only you."
"Perhaps," was all Tiffany could reply, but she treasured every word, even not believing them.
Justin lifted her and gently entered her from behind and she sighed "oh" with delight. His touch was fire, Tiffany could not get enough of his loving as they came together swiftly. It was a wild ride of unbridled passion that swept them both into the stratosphere of love. Satiated, he carried her to his bed and they dropped into the softness of clean sheets, and clung together in a light sleep.
She awakened in the night and touched his tousled dark hair as he slept with the peaceful face and pouting full lips of a boy. Tears filled her eyes at just the thought of losing him. He was so strong yet so tender and caring. Surely no other man could make her feel so desired, so treasured. But could he ever be hers alone?
* * *
Louisa Prince had not seen her husband, Armani in days. He was obviously very busy with his gambling and other women. Too busy to even visit his long suffering wife. She was tired of waiting, so very tired. Enough she thought to herself. She sent the other servants away and was left only with her faithful maid, Hoyida. She went to the drape that hid her divorce papers and retrieved them. She paced the floor and inspected the papers. Her freedom was in her hands. She was frightened. This was an unusual step for an Egyptian woman and an unusual step for a woman who had spent her whole life in relative seclusion. To leave the house alone was unheard of. She would have to trick Hoyida, dear faithful Hoyida.
"Please bring me some linens for my bath." Louisa could not bring herself to face her maid. Perhaps when she established herself in a new home she could send for her. Surely Armani would have no use for her personal maid after she had left him.
When Hoyida had left the room, Louisa hurried out of the room and down the long hallway toward the front door, praying that no one would see her and try to stop her. It was one of the longest walks of her life, but at last she reached the door. She turned the locks with haste and stepped out into the sunshine, slamming the heavy door behind her. She breathed deeply, it had been much simpler than she had imagined.
She stood alone on the sidewalk and started off walking in the direction of her lawyer’s office. It would be a long walk in the heat. But it would give her time to plan her next move. She would get a hotel room for the next few nights and use the money she had saved out of her clothing allowance and pawn some of her jewels if necessary to get an apartment and buy personal items and clothing suitable for a business woman, only American clothing, the robes she wore at home were a thing of the past. Probably she would no longer need the fancy American designer gowns she had worn to her husbands state affairs. She blinked back a tear of sadness, many things would change with the divorce. After the divorce, if Armani were not too angry with her, perhaps he would let her have her wardrobe, or perhaps the American court would make him give her clothing to her. She clutched a purse with her money and jewels under her robes. The clothing would be her first change after she left her attorney’s office. She had called him earlier and made the most important appointment of her life.
Fear hung on the edge of her determination. Armani was not a man who liked to be crossed. Would he try to stop the divorce, would he come after her? Questions she was not prepared to answer. But what ever the cost, she was determined to be free of him and the life she had grown to hate.
A skirted figure followed in the shadows as Louisa walked on down the street, passing homes and businesses. As the blocks passed, she slowed but continued onward. She paused at a small restaurant and went inside and purchased an ice cold soda in a paper cup. Her attorney’s office was just past the Riverwalk area. She crossed some railroad tracks and passed some warehouse buildings with dark deserted alleyways in between. The skirted figure caught up with her as she approached an alleyway.
"No!" Louisa managed to cry out as she was dragged back into the dark alley. A knotted rope was twisted around her throat and tightened as Louisa fought for her life. But in the dark alleyway no one saw, and no one heard her struggle. She weakened and at last succumbed to the superior strength of her attacker. The paper cup of ice that had fallen from her now lifeless hand had spilled, and a thin stream of water ran down the dirty pavement. Her dream of freedom died with her in the lonely dark alley.
* * *
Tiffany and Justin had spent a warm wonderful night of love. He had awakened early and slipped out to get some croissants to go with expresso for a light breakfast. He had not counted their encounters during the long night of lovemaking. She was the most delightful woman he had ever been with; warm, funny, and so free in giving. There was nothing stilted or stuffy about Miss Tiffany Faire. He purchased the food and stopped at a flower shop for a box of deep red roses laid in baby’s breath for her.
Tiffany woke and stretched and turned to face Justin but found an empty pillow. She listened, but there was only silence. Maybe he had to go to the hospital, she thought, slightly irritated. It did not matter that she had the man to herself all night, she wanted him there this morning also. Pouting, she got up and walked into the shower. The full force of warm water pelting her skin woke her the rest of the way up and helped to restore her good disposition. When she stepped out of the shower, the phone was ringing. She wondered if she should answer or let the machine pick up? It could be Cynthia, and that would mean war. She had never cared enough to fight for a man before, but Justin was different. She let the answering machine pick up the call.
"Tiffany, this is Mom. I hate to bother you, Dear, but there has been an incident. Please call me."
Tiffany listened to her mothers words, and the fear returned in a rush. She did not want to call just yet. What had happened? It had to be serious or her mother would never have called her at Justin’s. Of course her mother guessed where she was. No, she couldn’t fool Diane. She sat down in a chair near the answering machine and wished that Justin would call. She was lost in thought when she heard the front door.
"Tiffany."
His deep melodic drawl echoed in the bedroom. A smile spread across her face, and she bounded from the bedroom and into the living room to greet him with a kiss as she snuggled inside the white terry cloth robe she had borrowed from him.
"What’s in there?" She inquired of his bags. "Oh, you brought roses! They are such a deep red, so incredibly beautiful and the smell is heavenly."
"But they pale in comparison to you, Tiffany. I have a vase of cut glass about the right size in the bottom cupboard by the refrigerator, Love. I’ll fire up the expresso machine if you put out the cups. The end cupboard." He set out a plate of Croissants and some fresh mangos on the kitchen table. In minutes, he poured expresso for both of them.
"I love arranging roses in a vase. It seems such a sensual thing to do." Tiffany purred as she took the stems one by one and plunged them into the water.
"And you look wonderfully inviting doing it, Cher." Justin crossed to her side and gave her a quick kiss on the lips.
Tiffany reached for her cup and powdered her expresso with cinnamon. Taking a deep sip, she bit off a corner of a croissant.
"Mother called, and she said there has been another incident."
Justin stopped mid air with his cup. "No."
"She wanted me to call her back but I was waiting until I heard from you." Tiffany walked around the kitchen table to the phone.
"You had better call her right now, Cherie."
Tiffany picked up the phone and took a deep breath and dialed.
"Mom?"
"You are with Justin?"
"Yes, Mom, your match making worked, now what has happened?" Tiffany sighed. Her mother must really be feeling triumphant over her match making success. She will never let me forget either, Tiffany pouted.
"One of our best customers, Louisa Prince was garroted not ten feet from Riverwalk. They found her alone in an alley."
"How can that be? The customs of her country demanded that she never go anywhere by herself." Tiffany clutched the phone and held her other hand to her head as if in pain.
"Stranger then that, she had jewelry and money with her, and they took nothing." "Sgt. Ross called to ask me if I knew of any appointment that Louisa might have had such as a dress fitting with us, but I told him she came into the shop often but she had no appointment with us today that I knew of, and I would ask you about it."
"Oh Mom, poor Louisa. No, she had no appointment at the Clothes Horse today. It is too early, we don’t even open until ten. Why was she coming so early? It makes no sense. Did they find a note."
"On the wall above the body, there was "adieu" scratched into the brick wall and a crude drawing of a snake. The rock that was used to scratch the message was found beside the body. You go ahead with your plans with Justin, Dear. There is nothing you can do here. Give Dr. Mathews my best regards."
"Mom said hi."
"Tell her hello for me," Justin said as he took a deep swallow of hot expresso.
Tiffany hung up and walked around the table and into Justin’s arms. He bent down and kissed her soundly on the lips.
"Good morning," she whispered in his ear.
"Good morning to you too. What did your mom have to say?"
"It is just too terrible. Louisa Prince, you know Armani Princes’ wife, was found murdered this morning in an alley near Riverwalk." Tiffany felt Justin’s body tense as he heard the terrible news.
"Good grief! She was so stricken the night of Jill’s murder. Makes you wonder if she had a premonition or something?" Justin thought out loud.
"She was found all alone, and she never went anywhere without at least one of her maids. She had jewelry and money that was not touched, so robbery was not the motive. Worst of all, she was garroted." Tiffany clung to Justin, fighting the urge to cry.
"Was there a note with the body?" Justin asked.
"Above the body, scratched into the brick was the word "adieu" and a crude drawing of a snake." She looked up at him and saw that he was also fighting emotions.
"Tiffany, I don’t know what to think. This is clearly a series murder. The same method, close to the Clothes Horse. Louisa Prince is the wife of a very wealthy man. Yet nothing was taken, and there was no kidnapping and ransom demand. What is this devil after? You are clearly in danger, Cher, but the killer is a shadow. We have nothing to go on, and the only suspect, if you can call her that, is Susan." He struck his fist into his palm and paced the room.
"It’s okay, Justin. We have managed to get through it thus far and we will continue. We just have to keep our wits about us and outsmart this shadow. As for Susan, I don’t know what to think." Tiffany sat back on the kitchen chair and finished her expresso.
"I have been putting this off, but I have a job to do, Cherie, and nothing can interfer with it." Justin walked into the living room and played back his messages.
"Dr. Mathews, there is an urgent consult for Dr. Forrester in room two twenty, St. Charles East wing." The list went on and on, and Justin listened intently, taking notes.
Tiffany wandered into the living room and listened to the tape. "And I thought I was busy."
"You are also a busy woman, Tiffany, and I respect that. But I am a doctor, and that is a slightly different ball game."
"You can’t really afford to make many mistakes or take many days off," she said knowingly.
"You have got that right, Cher. It is a demanding profession, but it is my dream to make a difference. Sometimes it is a little hard to balance that with reality and insurance and all that sort of thing."
"I admire your work, Justin. You really did make a difference for my mom."
"It was a hard surgery to perform, but I was pleased with the results. Your mom has a good attitude also, and that helps."
"You had a lot to do with her good attitude, Justin. She thinks very highly of you, even before we became fond of each other, she was really a fan of yours."
"Was that part of your problem, accepting me as a suitor?"
"No, not really. Well, maybe a little. We are both older than the average and still alone, so I think that we both have problems finding that someone or looking or giving in or something," Tiffany ventured.
"Until you came into my life, I know I have been much too taken with my studies and my work. You hit me like a bomb shell, and I am still in shock," Justin confessed.
"I am also very involved with my work, but I am somewhat reclusive. I don’t go out that much, and I am not good at meeting new people. That is my mothers forte." She ducked her head shyly.
"You could have fooled me, you called and asked me to the party, and I was floored. I was hoping to see you again, but I didn’t know how to get past the patient- doctor relationship thing. You know technically you aren’t my patient, but asking you out seemed like pushing it a bit. Thank you, Cherie, because I would have missed the most wonderful night of my life." He took her in his arms for a last passionate embrace before leaving. He pressed the door key into her hand and headed for the door. "I have to get going, or I will be in big trouble with Dr. Forrester."
"It’s okay, Justin, I’ll clean up the dishes." She watched him leave with sadness. There time together had been so magical, and yet cut short. Would it always be like this?
He said last night was magical but he didn’t say anything about tomorrow. Maybe that was all they would ever have - one night of bliss. It was too close, too soon, too wonderful to think that she might have to live the rest of her life without him, his touch, his warmth, his caring. He was like the most powerful, addictive man she had ever encountered. He couldn’t leave her, he just couldn’t. She refused to even consider the possibility. She would think about losing him later, much later, when it didn’t hurt so much.
She put the last cup in the cupboard and wiped the table. She had set the covered plate of mango slices in the refrigerator and sat down to admire his kitchen. It was done in white with black and red accents, red polka-dot curtains framed the window overlooking the backyard. She wondered if he decorated it himself or if Cynthia had lent a hand. It was surely cheerful. In striking contrast to the room, a dark thought crossed her mind. "Damn, I’m too old for a broken heart," she cursed to herself.
Chapter Seven

Tiffany let herself in the front door and walked through the quiet house in the early morning light, calling out, "Mother."
"I’m upstairs, Dear."
She climbed the stairs wearily, not really wanting to hear all the news about Louisa Prince. It was just too sad to think about. She paused at the door to her mothers bedroom, watching Diane brush her hair. It was a scene from childhood, her mother sitting at the vanity. She was that lonely little girl watching her mother prepare to leave for another day at work which often dragged on into the evening.
"You disappeared last night," Diane accused Tiffany’s image in the mirror.
"Yeah, we kinda did, Mom. I’m sorry about that, we should have told you we were leaving."
"I trust you and Justin had an enjoyable evening."
"We sure did, but I already told you that," Tiffany answered, a blush creeping up her cheeks as she remembered the evening spent in Justin’s arms.
"And?" Diane attempted to dig further into her daughter’s feelings.
"Oh, Mom. What about Louisa?" Tiffany tossed her blonde mane, she did not want to share her feelings for Justin with anyone yet.
"The body will be cremated and the ashes flown back to her native Egypt for burial in the family mausoleum."
"I bet that philandering husband of hers won’t even miss her." Tiffany pursed her lips in disapproval.
"We might be surprised. Sgt. Ross, Milton said that Armani Prince was visibly upset when they called on him at his home earlier this morning."
"Well, I guess I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t even know the man except by reputation." Tiffany looked into the mirror and made a face at the rumpled image before her. Yesterday’s outfit felt and looked like it had seen better days. "Oh, do I ever need to get my act together and get ready for work."
"And I have to get downstairs and go over some of those dress designs you brought home. I like the simple suit lines for fall with the black and navy. It is odd, when spring is springing, we are designing fall and winter clothes. I have some ideas for the advance publicity campaign. We should advertise a personal shopper available for our business women and I could do that service myself, possibly with a little help from you." Diane turned, watching Tiffany amble down the hall toward her room, and she then went back to styling her hair with one arm instead of two which took some time and doing.
"That’s great, Mother. We need to interest more people in the Clothes Horse. After all, we just lost one of our best customers," Tiffany said over her shoulder.
"And a friend. Louisa was demanding at times, but she really liked all of us at the Clothes Horse, and we cared about her." Diane looked down at her hands folded in her lap and bit her lip.
Tiffany entered her room and tossed her clothes on her bed, disturbing the orange fluff ball that was her cat, Taffy, searching for an outfit in her closet. She held a navy skirt up with a pale pink blouse and walked into the bedroom to try them on. When would she hear from Justin? She held his key in her hand. A smile stole over her face as she thought of the vase of roses sitting on his kitchen counter. Her roses perfuming his kitchen.
A sudden movement made her turn in time to face Susan slipping into her room through the open door, a knife at her side, hidden by the folds of her skirt. Tiffany froze as she took in the look of hatred on Susan’s face. Fear gripped Tiffany as she watched Susan approach her, blocking the doorway. She has an apron on, Tiffany thought. How neat, how like a housekeeper, not wanting blood to splatter on herself. And what would happen if Diane came into the room, would Susan kill her too? No, no, not after all Mother has been through to end her life so ignominiously.
"Susan!" Tiffany managed in a husky voice, she must stay calm and talk Susan into putting down the knife. "What are you doing here?"
"You have it all, Tiffany. You have the house, the clothes and a fine doctor for a suitor. It’s not right, you hear me, Missy?" Susan circled Tiffany while slowly raising the knife.
"Susan, I don’t understand. I have never done anything to you. What are you talking about?" Tiffany looked desperately about the room for some way to defend herself.
"I - I can’t do this." Susan’s hand fell to her side, releasing the knife which fell to the floor with a thud while the hatred in her features faded into tears. Her long black hair hung down her back unlike her usual neat bun, making her appear much younger as sobs racked her body.
Tiffany grabbed Taffy and fled. She rushed down the hall and into her mothers room.
"Tiffany, what on earth?" Diane turned, startled by the sudden appearance of her daughter clutching her cat.
"Mom, call Sgt. Ross. Susan Anton just threatened me with a knife." Tiffany spoke harshly, clad only in her slip, watching the door warily in case Susan should appear.
Diane picked up her bedside phone and called the police, requesting Sgt. Ross come immediately. "I can’t just have anyone come and arrest her. Milton has to be here. Susan is very dear to me. She can’t be responsible for all of this, can she?" Diane searched Tiffany’s face.
"She threatened me with a knife, Mom. I don’t want to believe this any more than you do."
"How could Susan betray us?" Diane crumpled in her chair.
Tiffany put a protesting Taffy meowing with claws out stretched down on Diane’s bed and picked up the heavy bedside lamp and unplugged it, facing the door in case Susan should appear. But all she heard was sobbing coming from her bedroom down the hall. She had the urge to go down to her room and try to comfort her attacker, but that did not seem prudent. She just needed to wait for Sgt. Ross. Sometimes doing nothing is the hardest of all. The waiting seemed to take hours, but in minutes, the now familiar white car pulled into their circular drive below.
"We are going downstairs together, Mom. I can’t leave you upstairs alone with Susan." Tiffany put on a dressing gown of her mothers, and they both went down the stairs together.
Diane opened the front door and let him in.
"Diane, Tiffany, what is it?" Sgt. Ross asked, puzzled
"Upstairs, Susan Anton our housekeeper who has been with the family for years, is in Tiffany’s bedroom, and she threatened Tiffany with a knife." Diane began.
"No, not Susan!" Sgt. Ross exclaimed in surprise. "The dispatcher told me to high tail it over here but did not fill me in."
"I just can’t understand it, Sgt. Ross. Why does she hate me? I swear I never did anything to that woman." Tiffany said, confused and searching for answers.
"You ladies stay downstairs. I am radioing for backup just in case." Sgt. Ross signaled for help on his radio and approached the steps cautiously with gun drawn.
Tiffany watched the stairs tensely as the minutes crept by slowly. There was not a sound, and at last Sgt. Ross reappeared with Susan in handcuffs.
"Susan, what is the meaning of this? Why would you do such a thing to Tiffany?" Diane asked, tears in her eyes. But Susan only answered the question with a blank stare.
"Do not go into your room, Tiffany, until the lab has a chance to go over it." Sgt. Ross ordered as he led a sullen, tight lipped Susan in handcuffs out to his car.
Two police cruisers pulled up as Sgt. Ross put Susan in the back seat of his car.
"This suspect threatened Tiffany Faire with a knife, we may have our murderer here, boys," Sgt. Ross informed the policemen as they got out of their cars.
"I can’t believe it, Susan the murderer. Why, she has been a part of our family most of her life." Diane sat down on the stairs with her head in her hands as the officers swept past her going upstairs to get to the scene of the crime. One of them came back down the stairs a short time later carrying the knife in a plastic bag.
"You can go upstairs now, ma’am. Your room is cleared."
Tiffany shivered when she saw the wicked looking dagger and went to the phone in the hall to page Justin. Then she returned to the living room, taking up residence on the sofa, her legs tucked under her and Taffy at her side, purring, to wait for his call. The police would go to Susan’s house to search it and find the voodoo doll and pin, the book of spells, and the picture. Would they discover the identity of the man in the picture? Was it a picture of Jack Faire, her late father? If so, what did the picture mean?
The phone rang, and Tiffany picked it up eagerly.
"Tiffany?"
"Yes, Justin. Can you talk a few minutes?"
"Sure, Cher. For you, anything."
"Humm. If I could only believe that." Tiffany smiled with hope. She thought of the sensual delight of touching the soft hair on his belly. Justin had the graceful movements of a big cat. "But I have some more bad news."
"Not another murder," Justin protested.
"No, but Susan threatened me with a knife, and the police have arrested her."
"Susan? We had reason to suspect her, but it is just hard to conceive. The other night when she was cooking us dinner, she seemed like a trusted friend. They will search her house and find all those things we found," he reasoned.
"I know, Justin. I am just wondering if they will identify the man in the picture and find out what it all means?"
"How is Diane taking this?"
"She is just sitting on the stairs, looking out on the driveway with sad eyes. Susan did not say a word when they took her away. I know it breaks Mom’s heart to think that Susan could betray our trust like that, be a murderer. Could be, hell, it sure looks like she is one."
"Tiffany, I hate this for you and Diane, but if Susan is the killer, then at least she is behind bars, and you are safe."
"You are right about that, Justin. We can start living again without watching over our shoulders every step of the way." Tiffany experienced a feeling of lightness, as if a thousand pound weight had been released from a chain wrapped around her ankle.
"Can I call for you at eight to celebrate your new freedom."
"I’d love to, Justin, but I have yet to get ready for work, and I still have to put in a long day. I’m bringing Mother to your office tomorrow for her check up so we can make plans then. Maybe this weekend we can make that trip to the zoo with our trusty sketch pads?"
"You remembered, yes, that would be fun. I’ll have to dig out my sketch pad."
"Mine is in the heap under my bed just waiting for an opportunity to make an appearance."
"See you tomorrow, then, Cherie. I’ll miss you until then."
Tiffany hung up the phone but picked it back up for one more quick call.
"John, this is Tiffany, we have had some more trouble at the house. No, no one else was murdered, thank goodness. Susan Anton, our housekeeper, threatened me with a knife. No, I’m all right. Anyway, the police have taken her into custody, and I still have to change clothes and get to work. Please cover for me. I’ll be there just as soon as I can. Thanks!" Tiffany breathed a sigh of relief and unfolded herself, moving a reluctant Taffy out of her way. Then she sprang from the sofa, heading upstairs to change into her work clothes now that the police had vacated her bedroom. Her clothes were laying on the bed just as she had left them what seemed hours ago. What had possessed Susan to attack me this morning of all mornings? Had she killed Louisa Prince earlier and then come to the house to finish me off? Why did she kill Jill, our top model? Did Susan have accomplices? She must have with all that had been happening. Hopefully the police would get to the bottom of this quickly.
She pulled a brush through her long hair and rushed down stairs, pausing only to kiss Diane on the cheek before leaving the house. Spring was a brief moment before the long hot summer in New Orleans, and Tiffany enjoyed the mild slightly cool feel in the air. Spanish moss dripped from the oaks that lined the street in front of the house. Old trees, old homes, graceful and stately made up the neighborhood. She could be standing here in another century except for the modern cars dotting the driveways. Now that would be the way to go to work, a horse and carriage, she thought as she opened her car door. Justin coming to pick her up with a horse and carriage, humm, that was too delicious to even think about.
Diane watched Tiffany drive off, then she left her perch on the stairs to go into the den and sit at her desk. The drawings came slowly. She studied some pictures of models she had hung above her on the wall. She could study the walk of one, the hands of another when she was sketching her clothing designs. It was an art form and not an exact science. Every season there would be some fashions that were big sellers, the really hot items. One year it would be long skirts, or loose fitting trousers, another year it would be hot pink or pale yellow. There was no way to tell for certain what would strike the fancy of the public. Tiffany would take the sketches, choose and cut fabric from a pattern she had drawn. John would sew the finished product, adding zippers and buttons, ribbons and bows - what ever it took to bring the dress to life. He was good at that, the finishing touches.
That was their one of a kind trade. For the everyday wear, Diane or Tiffany would visit the big shows in L. A. or New York and bring back ready to wear of good quality. That was their trademark, good quality at reasonable prices for the working woman. The one of a kind designs brought in more money per costume, but of course they did not sell nearly as well. Diane had worked hard to build her business and keep it going over the years. She did not really think that Tiffany would join her in the business. She had not been particularly interested in it as a kid. But over the years Diane had put her to work in the summers and during her school breaks. Tiffany enjoyed the spending money and gradually became enchanted with the business. She had taken fashion design in college and come home to join Diane full time at the Clothes Horse, even though she had plenty of opportunities to move away into an entirely different setting. Diane was grateful for the help of her talented daughter. Still she wondered if it was the right thing for Tiffany to be tied down to the family business? With Justin on the scene, she felt reassured that Tiffany would find her hearts desire after all right here in her own backyard.
The door bell rang, pulling Diane out of her reverie.
"Milton?" Diane stood back as she opened the door for him.
"Susan is not saying a word yet," he said as he came in shaking his head.
"Do you think she is responsible for all of these murders?" Diane followed him into the living room.
He turned to face her with his arms at his side, "It’s really hard to say. I have been in this business a long time, and I have been fooled many times. I saw something pass between her and Madame Boudreaux. I am thinking seriously about having Marie come down to the station and confront Susan. Maybe Susan would open up."
Diane gestured for him to sit down. She took a couple of steps toward the kitchen. "Could I get you something?"
"No, thanks anyway. I sure enjoyed dinner the other night."
"We enjoyed having you." She smiled demurely.
"It get’s hard thinking up things to eat as an old bachelor. Too many nights I settle for a hamburger from a drive thru. Do you mind if I use your phone? I’ll call Marie and see if she would come in. It’s worth a try."
"Can I go with you?" Diane looked up at him.
"I’m not sure it would be a good thing for Susan to see you just yet." Sgt. Ross put his hand over his mouth and studied her closely.
"I won’t try to speak to her or see her, I am the closest thing to family she had. I just feel a need to be there. Maybe find out why she would do such a terrible thing to Tiffany. And murdering all those people?"
"That is why I want Marie in on this. Maybe she can get some information for us." Sgt. Ross picked up the phone and punched in Madame Boudreaux’s number.
"This is Sgt. Ross. We have Susan Anton, the Faire’s housekeeper, in custody for threatening Tiffany Faire with a knife. Could you come down to the station and attempt to talk to her if I came by and picked you up? She is refusing to talk to us."
Sgt. Ross shook his head in the affirmative and hung up the phone.
"She is coming. I guess you can come down too, Diane, but I warn you, this may take awhile."
"It’s okay, Milton. Let me get a wrap." Diane went to the closet.
Diane walked ahead to the white car parked in her driveway. She was grateful that at least she had got her hair combed and her makeup on before he came. Was she being just a tiny bit vain? Possibly. But Diane wanted to know. If Susan was a danger to her daughter, she wanted the truth to come out. She wanted her behind bars permanently if Susan was a threat to her only daughter.
"We will go by Marie’s shop to pick her up and then on to the station." Milton opened the car door for her.
"May I take you out for dinner one of these nights, Diane?" He asked as she seated herself.
"I would be delighted, Milton." Diane felt pleased by the invitation. Was he just being courteous? Tit for tat?
The drive to the station by way of Marie’s shop went quickly in the mid morning traffic. She would be facing the daily grind of driving to work again soon. She missed her work, her employees, and her customers. But it required a lot of effort to manage her employees and deal with the public every day. Often she worked six days a week, occasionally taking off a day mid week or a Saturday in addition to Sunday when the shop was closed. The bout with cancer had given her a new perspective. She wanted more time to be at home. She did not want to be as driven as she had been in the past to succeed. When she went back, things would be different. She wanted Tiffany to not follow in her footsteps but take a more relaxed approach to the business. It simply was not worth it.
"I’m not going to spend all my time working anymore," Diane blurted out.
"That is a good idea, now if you can tell me how I can go about slowing down in my line of work, I’m open." Milton looked at her with a grin on his rugged face.
"You wake up one day and half of your life is over, and you have spent entirely too much time working."
"I agree whole-heartedly, Diane."
"I want to take a cruise," she mused, looking out of the window at the streets flying by.
"So do I. Do you think we might take one together, after we get to know one another better of course?" He had a faraway look in his eyes.
He was sincere, she was sure of that. He looked hopefully at her. What about the scars, she wondered. Would he turn away?
"Yes, I think that might be a good idea," she said hopefully. She studied him closely, but all she saw was a kind caring man who seemed genuinely interested in her as a woman. "I want Tiffany to slow down too and smell the flowers before it is too late."
"Good luck. Sometimes it is not so easy to convince your offspring of anything."
"Do you have kids, Milton?"
"No, my late wife and I never had children." He shook his head sadly.
"You are a widower?" She looked at him, surprised.
"It happened a long time ago. She had a bum ticker. I never remarried, I figured it was not a good life for a woman, married to a policeman. Anyway, Mildred was never happy with my career choice." He looked ahead, concentrating on the road.
"Unhappy people are usually unhappy no matter what their spouses do or don’t do. I am speaking from experience."
"You didn’t have the perfect marriage either?" he questioned her.
"Nope, and I made mistakes as well, but he was the alcoholic." She had a haunted look in her eyes.
"I’m sorry, Diane, in my line of work, I meet quite a few of those. Believe me, I understand the problems."
"We are here," he said, pulling into a parking space close to Madame Marie’s shop. "I’ll be right back."
Diane watched him hop out of the car and walk swiftly down the street toward the tiny shop. He returned in no time with Marie Bourdreaux on his arm.
"It is not often that I have two such lovely ladies in my cruiser. I only wish we were doing something less painful together." He held the door for Marie.
"Mrs. Faire, I so enjoyed our dinner the other night." Marie settled herself gracefully into the back seat.
"It is a pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Bourdreaux, but I wish it were under more auspicious circumstances."
"That poor child, I can’t see her as a killer." Marie shook her head sadly.
"It is extremely difficult for me to believe that this young woman who had been coming to my home for years since she was a small child with her aunt who was also my housekeeper could be a cold blooded murderer intent on harming my family." Diane held her arm out in a who can say gesture.
Sgt. Ross pulled into the station, parking in his usual slot. He stepped out of the car and opened the doors for Diane and Marie. Diane stepped out, taking the lead, picking her way around the other parked squad cars. Once on the sidewalk, the midmorning sun shown down brightly on them. She shaded her eyes, looking for the main entrance. It was up steep stairs. She took a breath and started climbing rapidly with Marie and Milton following right behind. Reaching the main entrance, Milton steered the little band to the right down a long hall. Behind every door there were men and women noisily engaged in the business of law enforcement. A tough job by any standards in a city famous for over indulgence in just about everything. He stopped in front of one of the frosted glass doors, opened it, and ushered them inside.
"This, ladies, is my office. Diane, why don’t you wait here, there are some detective books in my bottom drawer and just dial nine to use the phone. Marie and I will go down the hall to the interrogation room. I have no idea how long this will take."
"Okay," Diane said simply, looking at the heaping mounds of paperwork covering his desk.
"If I see that the situation warrants it, I may come back for you, Diane. Right now we don’t want to confront Susan with anyone that she would be uncomfortable with talking about the murders. By all accounts, you two were close. If she is our murderer, I doubt she would want to confess with you there." Milton took Marie’s arm and left, closing the door behind him.
Time dripped slowly as Diane slumped in a chair beside the desk and stared absentmindedly at a book. She thought about looking for some coffee but decided against it. She dozed a bit and woke to the sound of the door opening.
"She is too upset and afraid to talk now. They have let Susan go to a holding cell and I am going to go with a search party and see what we can find in her house. Have you ever been there, Diane?" Sgt. Ross asked as he walked in behind Marie Boudreaux.
"I have only run by to drop off laundry, Susan never asked me in. I figured she might be ashamed of her home since it was in a run down area. But it would have made no difference to me. I never had the idea that she might have something to hide."
"I’ll take you two ladies back now." He walked to the door and stood back to let them pass.
Diane was relieved, it had been a very long morning, and she wanted to get home.
"I want to come back after Susan has rested." Marie glanced at Sgt. Ross. " She barely spoke to me, but I feel she will talk after she has some time to rest up and think about her situation. She is very distraught right now. Can I return with you later, Sgt. Ross?"
"Of course, Marie, suit yourself. Right now, after I drop you two ladies off, we are going to search Susan’s residence. We hope to find some evidence that will either prove she is the murderer or clear her. He retraced his steps to the parked car, and they drove off in the warm afternoon sun.
Diane looked at Milton, feeling a little left out. He was all business now. She experienced a pang of jealousy. Marie would be seeing him later, and she probably did not have any scars to worry about.

Chapter Eight

Justin walked down the hall expectantly. The nurses were walking the patients back to his examining rooms carrying the all important charts. Room one was a face lift, room two a birthmark, room three wanted liposuction and so it went all the way down to room eight and Diane Faire. His recovering breast reconstruction patient and mother of the love of his life.
"Diane." She was such a vibrant lady, he enjoyed seeing her.
"Hey, Doc."
"You look really good, young lady, how do you feel?" There were still circles under her eyes and he knew from experience with many patients, that it would be awhile before she fully recovered.
"I am doing a lot better. The scars will get less noticeable over time won’t they?" She tilted her head as she perched on the examining table.
"Of course they will. I need you to put a gown on and Cynthia will come in and we will see how your healing is progressing."
"Sure." She hopped off of the table.
Justin turned his back and left the room. He walked down the hall and peered out into the waiting area, spying Tiffany sitting in a far corner flipping through a magazine. He picked up the wall phone and dialed her cell phone. He watched her dig in her purse and place the phone to her ear.
"Miss Faire, this is Dr. Mathews calling."
She looked around the room, amusement dancing in her eyes.
"Justin, where are you?"
"Try the hall to your far right." He stood perfectly still.
"Oh, there you are."
"Out there in the waiting room trying to hide from me, are you? Well, it won’t work. When can I see you again? Tonight would be just fine." Justin raised his eyebrows at her suggestively.
"It seems to me that I did say something about tonight earlier in the week."
"You certainly did and I am going to hold you to it. What about a stroll in Woldenberg River front park at sunset?" He looked at her hopefully, that being the most romantic place he could think of off the top of his head.
"Oh, that does sound interesting"
He got a smile out of her that time.
"I’ll pick you up at 5:30. I have to run and see about your mom. She looks fine." He hung up the phone quietly and walked back down the hall. At least he no longer had to worry about Tiffany and Diane’s safety with Susan behind bars.
Tiffany thumbed through a few more magazines before Diane reappeared at the front desk, ready to go home.
"How was your check up, Mom?"
"Dr. Mathews said I was coming along fine and I ought to be back at work in no time. He wouldn’t give me an exact date though. Said it depends on how I am doing a couple of weeks from now. He seemed to think I should have my energy level built up a bit before I tackle anything big." She frowned in obvious disagreement. She spoke as they strolled down the hall to the parking lot behind the building.
"The doctor knows best, Mom. Enjoy your time off, don’t rush it." Tiffany unlocked the car "What do you want to do about dinner?" she asked as she settled in her seat. Would you like me to pick you up something from a deli like Central Grocery on Decatur? Justin and I are going walking this evening and we will probably grab a bite later." There was no Susan waiting to prepare dinner now. Tiffany would have to take off work whenever Diane had to go anywhere until Justin cleared Diane to drive. She realized now more than ever just how much Susan had always done for them. Susan always seemed so devoted to Mom, why does she hate me? The answer, as always, eluded her. What had she ever done to the woman to deserve so much animosity?
"Okay, just park on the street and I’ll dash inside and get something to go. I think a grilled chicken salad sounds good and not too heavy." Diane picked up her purse, preparing to stop.
Tiffany smiled, "Moms and their purses are inseparable."
"And I can never find one big enough for all my junk unless I go into the suitcase variety." Diane clutched her oversize bag to her.
"And it’s all necessary junk, right, Mom?"
"You know it, Baby."
The stop for Diane’s salad did not take long and Tiffany pulled into her driveway only a little after five-thirty. She wondered how late Justin would be. He was a punctual man when ever possible but his practice did not always give him the room to be places on time. Patients took precedence over little things like dates. She still had to dress so his tardiness was working in her favor this time. Likely as not, one of his patients had him on the phone. Many times they called him out of necessity, sometimes it was not.
Teal slacks and a light weight white knit top would be perfect for a stroll by the river she thought as she picked them out of her closet.. A quick shower and a make over and she would be like new again. And a tall cool glass of homemade lemonade that her mother kept in the refrigerator now that she was home during the day.
When she stepped out of the shower, she heard Justin’s voice downstairs. She felt her face light up with anticipation of seeing him again. She wanted to take things slow and easy but she had feelings for him that would stop an elephant charge. She almost tripped in her haste to put on her slacks. Her walking shoes, which place had she seem them last? In her closet, under her bed, under the chair. Darn, she would get completely organized one of these days.
She paused at the head of the stairs, just breathing and allowing the butterflies of anticipation to settle.
"Justin." She greeted him breathlessly as she strolled down the stairs.
"Hey, pretty lady." His eyes lit up as he watched her descend the stair case.
She was drawn into his arms and the warmth of him. She tilted her face up for a quick kiss. His kiss could melt an iceberg she decided. His lips were full and lush on hers. His voice sent shivers down her spine. His hands lightly roaming her back were gentle and compelling.
"Let’s go for our walk and then you can come back to my place." He whispered in her ear.
She looked into his warm dark inviting eyes, feeling the fire of his unspoken desire.
"Maybe." She gave him a mischievous wink. "We may be late getting back, Mom."
"Why don’t you just come back and spend the night here, kids." She looked at them hesitantly.
"Maybe we should, Justin. With Susan gone, I hate to leave Mom alone." Tiffany whispered in Justin’s ear.
"Sure, fine with me, Sweet." He kissed the top of her hair.
"We’ll be back in a little while, Mom. Don‘t wait up, okay?"
"You can count on it. I’ll be in bed sound asleep when you two kids return." She smiled after them.
He led the way to the car with her hand clutched tightly in his.
River Front Park was lit with the rosy glow of sunset when Justin parked the car. Oaks draped with Spanish moss curled their ancient trunks around the path. They took off at a jog matching the pace of the rolling river beside them. It was strange to think that if not for the pumps constantly draining water away from the city, New Orleans would be just part of the river.
A city with so much life, so much music could be covered with water in an instant.
Justin took her hand and led her to a bench. He pulled her into his lap.
"I’ve missed you, Tiffany, more than I can say." He put his hands on her face, looking into her eyes searching for answers.
"Justin, I’ve missed you too."
"Really, sometimes I wonder if you are just teasing me." He declared his doubts.
It just welled up in her and she busted out with her concern.
"I’m teasing you? What about Cynthia?" She looked at him with pain in her eyes.
"Cynthia, you mean my former finance? I did not realize you knew about her. We broke up before I met you. We had gone together for several years and it just wasn’t there for either of us. I think I wanted us to marry eventually but there was no spark for either of us. She broke the engagement off. She did not cotton to my long hours and the beeper and all the other stuff that goes with being a doctor." He shrugged.
"Really? I overheard a message from her when you played your recorder and I just supposed the engagement was still on." Tiffany brightened and she bent down and kissed his lips with relief.
"For your information, Miss Tiffany Faire, I’m not that kind of person. Double dealing in relationships is not my bag. But seriously, I feel like I am drowning in my love for you. I can’t get enough of you woman." His arms hands found her breasts and he stroked her through her shirt.
She slipped her tongue into his mouth and enjoyed the fullness of his kisses.
He pulled away from her. "We need to get a bite of dinner somewhere and get back to the house or I am liable to do something unthinkable and take you right here in the park."
"Humm, sounds good to me." She murmured.
"Dinner or me taking you in the middle of River Front Park?" He questioned her with raised eyebrows.
"Both." She answered honestly.
"Come on, temptress." He took her hand as she stood up and they continued on their walk.
They circled the path and came back to the car, holding hands. The ride to a suitable Italian restaurant was short. Baccos on Chartres St. in the French Quarter seemed the perfect answer.
"They have the best bacon wrapped pork chops on record." Justin bragged.
"Really, I think I’ll try something like a salad unless you like your women big."
"You have to watch your weight?" He looked at her willowy figure doubtfully.
"Well, if I don’t, you won’t." She stuck her tongue out at him as they got out of the car.
"I’ll buy that. Being a tall man, I have to watch that I don’t lose too much weight. I tended to be a stick through college and med school and interning. Those twenty four hour days interfered with my meals." He opened the restaurant door for her.
"It was really rough?" She asked him sympathetically, stepping inside.
"Anyone who says it isn’t, is lying. But I guess in the long run it is worth it if you really love doing what you are doing and most days I do, but not all. I guess I love helping the kids most of all, you know the ones with birth defects or injuries." He smiled down at her as they were seated.
"I bet you get attached to some of them. On the other hand, I imagine you see some pretty terrible sights. " Tiffany shuttered.
"Yep, being a plastic surgeon is not a gentile profession. You get used to it. If you didn’t, you’d never eat again." He glanced at the menu meaningfully.
"You have a point, you can’t take it all home with you, that is for sure." She shook her head in agreement.
"Actually, we have our own operating room humor that gets pretty gross sometimes." He winked at her mischievously.
"I’ll just bet you enjoy every minute of it too." She eyed him with lips firmly pressed together.
The waitress took their order and Tiffany settled back in her seat with her eyes closed.
"What are you dreaming about, Cherie?"
"I was wondering about Susan. Alone in a jail cell. Being charged with murder. I just can’t get over it, Justin. I wish she would confess and answer all the unanswered questions if she is guilty. Know what I mean?" She opened her eyes wide and stared at him earnestly.
"Of course I do, Susan was like family to you. This all has to hurt you and your mother very much. Being betrayed by someone so close to your family. But don’t let this whole mess get you down. She may never confess and all the unanswered questions may remain unanswered."
The waitress brought their salads and Tiffany picked up her fork and tasted hers. The thought was sobering to Tiffany. "You are right but I just assumed that someday we would know the truth. Life is never simple, is it, Justin? "
"Nope, not from where I stand."
"Those pork chops sure smell good." Tiffany commented when the platter was carried to their table.
Justin took a fork full. "They taste even better than they smell, want a bite?"
"Sure." She took her fork and handed it to him so he could cut her a piece. He presented a tasty morsel to her. "Humm, good stuff."
He sipped his dinner wine and studied her in the candlelight. She was so very beautiful but at the same time, a woman to be reckoned with. Intelligent, hard working with a touch of humor thrown in.
"What are you thinking, Justin." Her eyes glowed in the soft light, a tantalizing emerald.
"Thinking what a lucky man I am to have met you." He took her hand in his and kissed it gently.
"And I am equally lucky to have met you, only I wish we could have met at a calmer moment in time." She looked wistfully into his eyes.
"You and me both, Tiffany. I would have given anything if you and your dear mom would not have had to go through the painful events of the past weeks." He rubbed her hand in his.
"Well, there isn’t much we can do about the past, only hope the future is better. You know, I’m really not all that hungry," she confessed, toying with her fork at the grilled chicken salad set before her."
"I know, I’m not either," he picked up his napkin and blotted his lips. "Waiter, I’ll have the check please."
He put his hand lightly on her back and guided her out into the gathering darkness. Perfume from spring flowers filled the air. He breathed deeply. His senses were alive to all the beauty of the night heightened by his awareness of his companion. She walked beside him, touching lightly.
Tiffany ran her fingers through her long tresses and settled her self into the car seat. The ride home was short and the house was shrouded in darkness when they arrived.
"Mom must have turned in early." Tiffany remarked as she led the way into the house.
"Rest is the best thing for her right now. I know she is impatient to get back to work and her regular routine but her body has taken a lot of punishment and it won’t do to rush her recovery." Justin explained his concern
"I know you are right and I agree with you whole-heartedly," She replied as they walked through the darkened hall to her bedroom on the second floor. Inside she put a jazz cd on and turned to face him.
"It’s about time. I was beginning to think I dreamed the other night and it never really happened." He took her in his arms and skillfully began undoing her buttons.
"I missed you too," she whispered against his chest. The music possessed her and she swayed to the haunting tunes dreamily.
He placed the articles of her clothing neatly on a bed side chair with aplomb as he stripped her to nakedness.
"Are you always such a neat freak?" She teased him.
"Not always, but I don’t like to make bad first impressions."
"Okay, I can handle that." She laughed lazily and began unbuttoning his shirt.
At last they swayed together naked in the dimly lit room. She suddenly twilled away from him and started dancing with abandon, a seductive dance to the rhythms of a fast paced song. He danced in place watching her freedom with envy. There was something about Tiffany that would always be unattainable. Her beauty was undeniable as she unfolded like an exotic flower before him. At last he could stand it no longer, a separation of inches was unbearable. He took her in his arms and held her close, whispering in her ear, "Come to bed with me now, Cher."
She looked up at him hungrily. The soft light cast a glow on his tan body. The height of Dr. Mathews was impressive. Those dark brown eyes staring down at her with those wonderful full lips. Would she ever have her fill of him, she did not think so.
They came together in a rush, tasting, touching, hungry for each other.
"I have never wanted another man like I want you, Justin Mathews." Tiffany gasped.
"Cherie, I can’t explain how much I need to be with you, how much I miss you when we are apart."

She climaxed with him in a shower of stars and sighs. Then she rolled over and molded to his body, her head on his shoulder.
"You are so warm, Cherie, and so cozy." He smiled at her.
Tiffany drifted into a light sleep. From far away she heard a phone ringing.
"Hello." She answered in a sleepy voice and then shuddered, putting the receiver down with a bang. "No! Susan is in jail, who is doing this?" Tiffany sat up in bed with a start. "I’m going to call Sgt. Ross. Maybe he can talk to Susan and find out if she has any accomplices. This has to stop."
"What is it Cherie?" Justine awoke instantly.
"It was that same deep raspy voice saying "Adieu, Cherie, adieu."
She dialed the familiar number of Sgt. Ross’ pager and waited until the phone rang.
"Sgt. Ross, this is Tiffany Faire. I just had a phone call, Dr. Mathews took the call. It was the same message, adieu, cherie, adieu, the same deep voice. Can you talk to Susan, find out if she has any accomplices?" She listened for a few minutes and hung up.
"He wants me to come down and try talking to Susan. He said she is terrified and won’t say a word."
"I’ll go with you tomorrow and maybe we can get the truth out of her."
Tiffany laid back in his arms, but worry kept sleep at bay.
Chapter Nine

Tiffany woke up to find Justin watching her quietly, raised up on one arm.
"Are you hungry?" She asked him saucily.
"Yes, but the question is, are you?" He took his finger and lightly teased her breast.
"I have been known to develop quite an appetite." She bent over to lick his nipple with her tongue.
"Oh, Cher," he moaned and kissed her lips.
"Slow is good," she suggested, rubbing her hands lightly on his chest.
"Slow is better," he agreed, tracing his fingers over her breasts before bending his head to her nipples.
She stroked his naked thighs, relishing the softness of his skin and delighting in the sight of his rising manhood. A feast, that is what he was to her. She had been alone, and lonely too long but now she enjoyed every second in his strong arms.
The next hour passed in languid love making. "Is your appetite satisfied now?" she queried Justin as he lay beside her.
He sat up in bed and looked at her thoughtfully. "Maybe for a short time, but just don’t leave me alone anytime soon."
"Promises, promises." She raised her eyebrows at him as she got up and headed towards the shower. "We have to get this show on the road if we are going to get to police headquarters and confront Susan."
"I may not be able to stay very long, I have to get to the hospital for morning rounds, in fact, I really should go straight to the hospital." He announced as he brushed his teeth.
"This is something I have to do alone, no matter how unpleasant." Tiffany threw a robe on after her shower and walked to the closet to pick out a dress.
"Where are you children off to today?" Diane greeted them when they came downstairs.
"I am going to confront Susan this morning. We had another call last night, the "adieu, Cherie, adieu" with the low harsh voice. Someone is still out there, and we have to find out who and where," Tiffany announced to her mom.
"Let me go with you. What you say makes sense. I thought I should stay away but I really ought to see Susan and hear her story for myself," Diane declared, as she twisted a bright yellow dish towel in her hands.
"Mom, I don’t think…" Tiffany looked at her mother doubtfully.
"Wait, Tiffany, you said yourself that Susan is very fond of your mom. Maybe for her sake, she will tell the truth and get you both off the endangered species list," Justin intervened.
"He has a point, Mom, if you are sure you are up to it."
"Sure, let’s sit down and eat a quick bite of breakfast, then we can be off to the police station." Diane put some bagels in the toaster and poured fresh orange juice for them in sparkling green goblets, a smile lighting her face.
"If it’s okay with you ladies, I will let the two of you go down to the station while I make a dash for the hospital. I am running a mite late already. But keep me informed."
"No problem, Justin," Tiffany assured him. "I’ll just call John and have him mind the store for me until we can get this business resolved, hopefully this morning." Tiffany ate her bagel in silence. She was not looking forward to confronting Susan, but it had to be done. She wished that Justin could be there with her, but that was the nature of his job. She could resent it, but what good would that do?
"Are you okay, Cher?" Justin asked her as he rose to leave.
"I guess." She shrugged as he kissed her lips.
"Page me and give me the scoop as soon as you finish talking to Susan."
"I will."
"We can make plans for tonight when we talk." He placed his hand on her shoulder lightly.
A smile returned to her lips. "Yes, that would be nice." She watched him leave, tall, lean, his lanky legs covering the ground rapidly to his car. His chestnut curly hair clung to his coat collar. Such a handsome figure of a man.
"You look very self satisfied, Mom." Tiffany turned to see Diane observing her.
"Well, for once I did something right."
"Oh, Mom, I will be forever grateful for you introducing him to me. You sure did do something right, much as I hate to admit it," Tiffany said gleefully.
"It will take me just a minute to get ready to go downtown."
"How is it going between you and Sgt. Ross? I definitely got the feeling that he really digs you, Mom."
Diane looked down at the floor briefly. "I don’t know about that. He hasn’t called in a few days, but he is probably just busy. I can’t say if there is anything special between us or not. After all, he probably meets a lot of single women like Marie Boudreaux." A pale green hint of jealousy flashed in her eyes.
"Oh," Tiffany said knowingly. It was true, some policemen had a tendency to wander, and for a man like Sgt. Ross there would probably be ample contacts. Marie was a pretty woman, but Tiffany had not sensed any attraction between Sgt. Ross and the woman. Or was her mother just feeling self conscious about her mastectomy and unsure of herself?
Diane left the room to get ready, and Tiffany poured herself another cup of coffee.
Taffy jumped up on the chair and purred as Tiffany stroked her absentmindedly while she waited for Diane. It was going to be an interesting morning whether they found out the whole truth or not. True to her word, Diane returned shortly, and they started out the door together for Tiffany’s car.
Arriving at the police station in the morning sun, before the heat of the day set in,
Tiffany bound up the steep but now familiar stairs. Diane, regaining her strength, was close behind. When they walked in, Tiffany asked for Sgt. Ross at the front desk.
"It will be just a minute, Ma’am," the rather plain young woman at the desk said after paging him.
"Do you want to sit down, Mom?" Tiffany pointed to a nearby chair.
"Thanks," Diane sat down in the chair with a grateful smile.
Sgt. Ross came down the hall shortly and led them downstairs to the area where prisoners talked to their attorneys or family.
"So you had another phone call. I was hoping that this thing was over, but we knew Susan had to have accomplices." He spoke as he walked, "Damn."
They sat in a row, Sgt. Ross, Diane, and Tiffany behind a wire barrier where they could see but not touch the prisoners. Tiffany stiffened as they brought Susan into the room in handcuffs. She looked like a wild animal, desperate, and her lips locked in self imposed silence.
"Susan, we had another call last night. Can you help us, help yourself, and tell us who your friends are that helped you do these things? It will go better for you if you confess." Tiffany tried to pry an answer out of her.
"It’s hopeless. You would not believe me if I told you the truth, and I can’t make up any lies that you would believe either." Susan almost spat the words at Tiffany.
"Susan, we don’t want to hurt you, we just want to save ourselves. If you know who is threatening us, please tell us now." Diane clasped her hands in front of her.
Sgt. Ross just waited, listening with hope in his eyes, hope that Susan would implicate her partners so that they could be arrested, and the murders would stop.
Suddenly, tears flowed down Susan’s face and she shook her head helplessly.
"I know you don’t believe me, but I don’t know anything about the murders."
"Okay, then tell us what you do know. Convince us of your innocence, otherwise, you will be tried for murder and attempted murder and quite possibly convicted." It was Sgt. Ross speaking now.
Tiffany could tell that Susan was thinking Sgt. Ross’s words over carefully by her furrowed brow.
"My mother was a servant, a housekeeper to Diane and Gary Faire almost from the day they were married. Please bring me my Bible from my personal possessions you have locked away, Sgt. Ross. It’s all there in her diary. I kept it hidden in my Bible."
Sgt. Ross signaled the guard to retrieve the book from her possessions and they waited patiently until he returned with the book. Sgt. Ross took the Bible and opened it up, exposing a well worn diary. Susan began her story to a rapt audience.
"Mrs. Faire was very busy building her clothing business, and Mr. Faire was a cottonfactor. When he came home, many nights my mother would cook for him, and he would go into the parlor and have a few drinks after dinner to relax, and he would invite my mother in to talk with him. It started innocently enough, they were just two lonely people."
Diane bite her lip and blinked back a tear.
"They had an affair, but he really loved Mrs. Faire also, and it tore him up. My mother became pregnant, and she did not tell Mr. Faire right away because she was eaten up with guilt. About the same time, Mrs. Faire became pregnant with Tiffany. When Mr. Faire found out about my mothers condition, he sent her away to the country to live with some people he knew who had a cotton plantation. My aunt came and took her place as housekeeper to the Faires."
"I wondered why Yvonne left so suddenly without a word of explanation and her sister, Hattie, appeared as if by magic overnight," Diane spoke hoarsely.
"My mother took sick after I was born. My father only came one time, and the plantation owner took the picture of the three of us that hangs in my front hall. It is the only picture of me, my mother, and my father. My mother wanted a picture with him so badly that he finally agreed. She never even asked him to stay with us. They both knew he belonged with Diane. But she never got over her sickness, and I believe she died from a broken heart when I was only two years old." Susan paused briefly, bowing her head with the grief that only a child deprived of her mother knows.
Diane took in a deep breath, fighting back tears that stung the back of her eyelids. All the grief and misery going on around her in her own household, and she was totally unaware except for the increase in alcohol consumption by Gary, her husband, his seeming detachment from her and their infant daughter, Tiffany. A man torn with guilt.
My Aunt Hattie took me back to New Orleans and raised me as her own. No one ever questioned my parentage. On my birth certificate, it only shows father unknown. I would never have known the truth except when my Aunt died, I found my mothers diary and the picture in her things. By that time, I had taken my place as housekeeper at the Faires. Susan placed her hands flat on the table in a matter of fact manner.
At first, I didn’t think too much about it. I was married briefly to Ward Anton, a more useless scoundrel does not exist on the face of the earth. He lied to me, cheated on me, and stole my money that I was working for as a housekeeper while he laid up with his loose women, going to work only when he felt like it. When I kicked him out, the jealousy of Tiffany really started eating at me." Susan became agitated, remembering her emotional state.
"Tiffany had all those beautiful clothes, and a mother who loved her, and a big house. Then she started seeing this wonderful suitor, a fancy doctor, while I scrubbed floors and cooked meals for her. I really care about Diane, Mrs. Faire. But I wanted all those things that Tiffany had. I was his daughter too. And I guess I really wanted Diane to love me like a step daughter instead of just a servant." She gave a pleading look at them, as if hoping against hope that they could understand and forgive her.
I bought a voodoo doll from Marie Boudreaux and a book on black magic. I figured I would hex Tiffany to get even. But it didn’t work. Then she was up in her room all happy after spending the night with her doctor, and I was downstairs with a knife slicing fruit. It just came over me, the unfairness of it all. Why should I have nothing when she has everything? So I went upstairs with the knife in my hand. I really didn’t want to kill her. I don’t hate Tiffany, but I was just so jealous. I wanted to frighten her. It was crazy, I know that now. I’ve had a lot of time to think in here." She held her hands up to the wire barrier.
Diane looked at the floor as if trying to understand all that Susan had revealed.
"We can check old records for handwriting, but this diary looks authentic, and from what I have been able to read while Susan was talking, she seems to be telling the truth. We will have the lab run DNA and blood tests on Susan and Tiffany." Sgt. Ross commented as he leafed through the book. "Unfortunately, we are no closer to finding the real killer than before we arrested Susan. Tiffany, would you please stop by the lab for a few minutes. It is located in mid town and can get the samples we need for testing."
Tiffany sighed, "Sure."
"How soon can you release Susan, Sgt. Ross?" Diane asked with her head up. "I don’t think she is a danger to anyone."
"I am terribly sorry that I caused her such unhappiness because of my ignorance about who she was. After all, she is my half sister," Tiffany spoke up.
"If no charges are filed by you two, and I can talk to the judge, we may be able to clear this up fairly swiftly. But I must warn you, we need to do the lab work and check the handwriting first, then locate the plantation owner for verification of her story before we believe her completely."
"Okay, we will leave you to do your work and come back here for our new found relative as soon as you clear her from all charges." Diane agreed, and she touched the wire barrier with her hand as close to Susan as she could get. "I believe you, Susan. I don’t think you ever meant to harm us."
"Thank you, Ma’am." She raised her dark eyes now filled with hope to meet Diane’s.
"I believe you too, Susan. We will have to work on changing this screwed up relationship of our’s when you get out," Tiffany reassured Susan.
"It’s all my fault, Miss Tiffany. I should never have wanted things so much. Jealousy is a terrible thing." She hung her head in shame.
Tiffany watched Susan being led away with sadness, and then they all turned and walked back upstairs.
"Lordy, I’ll have to beep Justin and tell him the news. He is just going to be fit to be tied that we are no closer to finding the murderer." Tiffany shook her head as she walked ahead down the hall towards the entrance, dialing his pager number on her cell phone.
"Diane, I have been real remiss in calling you. It is this job. I have been chasing down every lead and trying to get the truth out of Susan for days. Now we are right back where we started," Sgt. Ross spoke to Diane quietly.
"Milton, I understand your dilemma, but I am overjoyed that Susan is not the killer. It was so hard to believe that this woman who has been in my household since childhood was intent on doing us in." Diane heaved a sigh of relief.
"You were a real champ in there, hearing about your husband’s unfaithfulness and not crumbling," Sgt. Ross complimented her.
"Gary has been gone a long time now. His sins died with him. It explains a lot. I remember the drinking getting worse at that time when I was pregnant, and I couldn’t understand why. I was at least partly to blame. I was so intent on starting the business that I left him alone far too much. I think it is called being young and dumb. Of course, there is no excuse for alcoholism. It is a sickness all by itself." She hung her head with sadness.
"When things slow down a bit in this investigation, I do hope to call you and spend some time together getting to know one another, Diane." He looked into her eyes hopefully.
"I would like that, Milton. I would love to get to know you better." She gave him a flirtatious wink. Inside she felt better than she had in days. He really was interested in her, for real! He was looking at her with longing, yearning from a hidden lonely space that only the two of them understood and shared. He was not looking at her as anything less than the beauty she had been in her youth. He was young and handsome and virile to her eyes. A man to be reckoned with. The mastectomy meant nothing to him, she could tell.
If they never had anything more than this moment, it was enough to reassure her of her place in the world as a whole woman. If she was still beautiful and lovable to him, a wonderful, caring intelligent man, then the last self doubts she had were removed from her.




Chapter Ten
Diane followed Tiffany out to the car, and they made the short ride to mid town in silence. There was a lot to think about. Having Susan come home as a daughter and sister instead of a housekeeper filled their thoughts.
When they reached the lab, Tiffany clutched the cell phone to her ear.
"Justin, you aren’t going to believe this. Susan is my half sister."
"Your half sister, Susan? So that is why she was trying to kill you?"
"No, silly, she was just overcome with jealousy, but she really never meant to kill me. That was just a spur of the moment thing, and she never would have carried it out."
"This is almost too much to comprehend over the phone."
"I agree. I still can’t believe it all myself, but they are doing the lab work on both of us now, and there is a diary from her mother and some plantation owners that were friends of my father who can verify the whole story."
Tiffany winced as the technician put the needle into her arm to draw blood samples.
"Can we take our sunset jog in Wolenberg?"
"Sounds good, Justin, but can we also make this more of a walk? We have a lot to talk about."
"Okay, see you around seven."
She hung up just as they withdrew the needle from her arm. The Band-Aid neatly covered the spot on her arm where the needle had been. A pin prick, that is all it was. But it might mean a huge difference in her life.
She walked up the stairs with Diane to the front entrance.
"Mother, there is a glow about you, and I don’t think it is all because of Susan’s innocence. Tiffany observed her mothers radiance.
"How observant you are, Missy," Diane remarked as she pushed open the door and started down the sidewalk.
"And are you going to see each other again, I mean Sgt. Ross and not Susan, because I am sure we will be seeing a lot more of Susan in the future."
"Yes, Sgt. Ross and I are planning to see each other again. Just the fact that he cares mean’s so much to me right now. And how do you feel about having Susan as your half sister?"
Tiffany blushed. "Oh, well, ah, I guess okay. It is just such a shock that I really haven’t comprehended it yet." Inside, Tiffany had to admit that she was used to having Diane’s undivided attention. Now, in addition to a possible romance between her mother and Sgt. Ross, she was having a half sister thrown at her that she never even knew existed. These were all good things in themselves. It was going to be good for her mother to have a love life of her own. It was going to be good for Susan to stop feeling like an outsider when she had every right to be a member of the family. But Tiffany would no longer be the only child, the center of her mothers attention. That would take some adjusting to.
"It feels right to me. Everything she said makes sense of what happened in the past. Gary was a handsome, charming man. But he was so moody and introspective at times. I knew there was something going on, something that he kept secret - apart from me. I guess he was trying to protect me, but the guilt ate him alive. He should have trusted me, and maybe we could have made some compromises, at least let Susan live with us instead of her aunt." Diane reached the car first and paused so they could continue their conversation uninterrupted.
"Do you think that would have solved everything?" Tiffany questioned.
"No, nothing would have solved the dilemma we were in and me all unaware of it. But it might have made life easier for Susan and assuaged at least some of Gary’s guilt," Diane extrapolated out loud.
"I wonder?" Tiffany said as she unlocked the car door. Her father had never shown the slightest interest in Susan when she was a child that Tiffany could remember. Was it guilt he was feeling or fear of being found out? Her mother had a lot more good memories of her father than Tiffany shared.
* * *
Back at her office, Tiffany prepared to interview some new models, a replacement for Jill. She already knew in her heart that no one would ever totally replace Jill.
"Bring them in, John. Life must go on."
"Okay, sweetie, whenever you are ready." He swung open the office door and motioned for the young lady seated closest to the office on the bench outside to step in.
"Miss Pamela Forte from Wichita, KS."
She was young, only twenty, and had short swinging blonde hair and vibrant brown eyes. Her carriage was good, maybe a bit stoop shouldered, but that could be corrected with exercise and practice.
"How long have you been modeling, Miss Forte?" Tiffany questioned as she looked over the resume in her hands.
"Not long, I’m afraid. I am attending junior college nights and taking modeling assignments on the side and waitressing at Café Max. She made a nervous cough.
"Hum, you did some theater in college. So did I. Did you enjoy it?" Tiffany watched her expression.
"Yes, I loved it!"
Tiffany watched her closely. Such enthusiasm, her whole body moved with the reply. She really liked this girl.
"I think you have a good resume here and you may be just what the Clothes Horse needs in a new model. I have to finish interviewing the applicants, but you will probably hear from me in the next two days after I check out your references."
"Thank you, Miss Faire, thank you very much," Pamela said, obviously happy as she walked back out of the door.
"Next," Tiffany motioned for John to show the next young lady in, but she was almost sure she would not find anyone as perfect as Pamela appeared to be for the job.
When would Diane be back? She would have to tell the next girls coming in no. That was not her favorite part of being boss. Diane usually handled these things. And probably every one of the models waiting to be interviewed would have done well. It was just that Pamela seemed the perfect replacement for Jill. There was something about her that reminded Tiffany of Jill. A chilling thought hit Tiffany, what if the murderer was lurking out there somewhere, and Pamela also reminded him of Jill?
Tiffany looked at her watch often, waiting for the day to end. How long would it take for the lab to determine if she and Susan were half sisters? How long would it take for Susan to be released? At last it was time to go home and meet Justin in the park. She whirled out of the parking lot and headed home as quickly as traffic would allow.
Tiffany rushed up stairs, throwing her mother a greeting over her shoulder. She pulled off her clothes and threw them into the clothes hamper in the corner of the room.
Taffy sat on the bed, waiting for her nightly greeting as Tiffany turned her attention to her shorts drawer. Ah, the perfect pair. Lavender jogging shorts made out of a soft, absorbent material.
"Well, Taffy, I am going to be leaving you again, but on my way out, I’ll check your food dish and see to it that you have fresh water." Tiffany scratched her neck as the cat rubbed against her arm as she sat on the bed and pulled on her shorts.
Just the thought of seeing Justin again sent shivers down her spine. She had it bad for that man. Would she ever get enough of him? No, she didn’t think so.
She ran downstairs with her tiny wallet hung around her neck on a thong. She kissed Diane on the cheek and bounded out the door to her car. She pulled into the Wollenberg parking lot to see him pacing at the curb. She jumped out to join him and received a quick kiss before they started down the trail at a fast clip.
"Susan has no idea who the murderer is?" He threw a question at her as they slowed their pace.
"None. The whole business with the knife was about jealousy. She was the housekeeper, but in reality she was my half sister, and she was the only one who knew it."
"Tough spot. How long had she been aware?"
"Not that many years. Just since the death of her aunt, and she came to work for us. Her marriage broke up shortly after that time also, and she needed full time employment."
"She has not led your enchanted life." Justin thought about the tall, big boned woman with the dark skin and straight black hair tied back in a severe bun. No smile had ever lightened her face that he had seen, making her appear much older than she was.
"But when she is released, Mom and I plan to make life a lot different for her."
"I am sure you will but remember to listen to her needs. She may want things differently then you assume." Justin knew human nature pretty well as a doctor. He was not surprised by much.
"Oh," Tiffany exclaimed. "I see, my do gooding might be facetious unless I consult Susan first," she paused. "And then there is me."
"Yes?" Justin asked with a knowing smile.
"I have never had to share anything - you know, my mother and…."
"You can stop right there. Isn’t that your main concern?" He fixed her with an inquiring glance.
"Yes, I hate to admit it. My mother has always been there for me my whole life. Suddenly, I will not be an only child. There is a part of me that is pure spoiled brat." Tiffany looked down at her running shoes.
"It’s okay, Tiffany, I love you that way. In fact, my only child status allows me to understand that side of you all to well." He took her in his arms for a quick embrace. "It will work out. It is going to take some time, that’s all."
"I really do care about Susan, and I want things to come together for all of us as a family." She looked up at him with what was best described as determination. His hand lingered on her back lovingly.
"Lets grab a bite to eat and go back to the house. I hate to be away too long after
that late night anonymous phone call with your mother alone in the house," Justin said.
"How about crab cakes?" Tiffany suggested, looking up at him with wide green eyes.
"Crab cakes. Sounds good to me, Cherie." He touched her cheek tenderly. They loped off, her hand grasped in his toward the cars.
"It would help if I knew what my father thought about Susan. Mother seems to assume he was guilt ridden. I think his behavior was more cowardly then guilt ridden," Tiffany suddenly stated.
"But that is something you will never know. Let it go and assume the best of him. Otherwise you will resent his past mistakes even more than you do. After all, there is nothing he can do about it now. The past is past." Justin looked down at her lovingly.
"You are a wise man, Justin Mathews." Tiffany kissed his cheek as they walked to the cars.
* * *
When they walked into the house, Tiffany was wiping the last crumb of
crab cake off of her cheek.
"We just received a phone call. Susan is free, and she is telling the truth about her parentage. I have asked Sgt. Ross to bring her home to us. He kindly agreed to do this, and they should be here in about twenty minutes," Diane announced as they walked in the door.
Tiffany looked at Justin with the wild look of a bird in flight. "This is so soon. I thought we would have a chance to prepare for her homecoming at least."
"It will be okay, Tiffany. Just calm down and let things happen naturally," Justin reassured her.
Tiffany ran upstairs to shower and change into a slacks outfit while Justin went to his car to bring in his bag. His mind was boggled, there was so much going on with the love of his life. He was used to leading a calm, peaceful, if boring existence, but now he scarcely knew what would be happening next in the Faire household. An unknown half sister, a murderer on the loose, what next? He headed back into the house and the downstairs shower.
Diane answered the door chime on the first ring.
"Susan." Diane had tears in her eyes as she gave the girl a big hug.
"I’m so sorry, Mrs. Faire." Susan started.
"That is all over and forgotten, never to be mentioned again," Diane murmured as she stepped back and regarded her new step daughter. "Where are my manners, Milton, thank you so much for bringing Susan home to us. Do come in. However did you get her released so quickly."
"I pulled every string I possessed. The lab results and the testimony of the Dryfords, Mr. Faire’s friends, clenched it. There was no doubt in my mind that Susan was innocent, and the judge agreed," Sgt. Ross related.
"Milton, I could kiss you," Diane said with delight and kissed him on the cheek.
"Susan, we have a lot to talk about. Have you eaten yet? Milton how about you?" Diane said as she ushered them into the great room.
"Well, no, I haven’t eaten, and I am sure Susan hasn’t had a bite either." He admitted.
"I’ll just go into the kitchen and whip us up something," Diane said as she walked towards the kitchen.
"No, no ma’am. I’m back, and I would love nothing better than to cook supper for you and Sgt. Ross," Susan pleaded.
"Ok, suit yourself, child, but things will be changing," Diane insisted.
"Oh no, Ma’am, not everything, not all at once. We all need to have time to adjust, and I have to do what I am comfortable at," Susan replied as she put her head down and went into the kitchen.
Diane saw the pleading in her eyes. Susan could not take too many changes at one time. Diane understood that. She had been forced to cope with serious illness and not being able to do her job and surgeries and chemotherapy all at once. Susan needed time to adjust to a new situation, they all did. She saw Susan as another link with Gary. The man she had loved and married long ago in another lifetime. She wanted to welcome Susan into the fold, but Susan needed time. Relationships did not change overnight.
"Milton, excuse me, please."
Diane followed Susan into the kitchen. "Susan, can you come stay with us?"
"Ma’am, I don’t want to intrude," Susan murmured as she took a package of chicken out of the meat keeper."
"You wouldn’t be intruding, Susan. We had another threatening phone call, and I really want you here with me for your safety and mine. This is a big house, and I have this feeling that Tiffany may not be living here forever. I would love to have my step daughter here with me." Diane knew she was rushing Susan, but she couldn’t help herself under the circumstances.
"Yes, Ma’am, I’ve seen the way Dr. Mathews looks after her. I expect Miss Tiffany will be getting a house of her own one of these days." Susan’s features brightened.
"Then you agree?" Diane pressed her.
"I guess so. Sure. I am not too fond of my house anyway. It is old and full of not too happy memories. I could sell it and use the money for my education," Susan said mostly to herself as she floured the meat for the skillet.
"What do you want to study, if I may ask?" Diane prepared a pan of rice to cook on the stove.
"Accounting, Ma’am. Do they need any accountants at the Clothes Horse?" She looked at Diane hopefully.
"I am sure when you get your degree, we will be able to put you to work, child," Diane said confidently as she rinsed off lettuce for a salad at the sink.
"Ladies, I am getting lonesome out here, is there something I can do?" Sgt. Ross stuck his head into the kitchen.
"Milton, if you wouldn’t mind setting the table. You know where the blue plates are," Diane directed him.
"Mother, Susan, Sgt. Ross, since you are all preparing to eat dinner, and we grabbed a bite on the way in, if you don’t mind, we will step out for a while and join you later?" Tiffany stuck her head in the kitchen doorway.
"We will excuse you young people," Diane granted.
"Susan, so glad you are back home with us," Tiffany insisted.
"Oh please, Miss Tiffany, thank you so much." Susan looked up from her frying chicken.
On impulse, Tiffany rushed across the kitchen and hugged Susan as she stood in front of the stove. "It’s good to have you home, Sis," she whispered in Susan’s ear.
"It’s is so very good to be home with you, all of you," Susan murmured with tears in her dark eyes. "Now leave, or I’ll be burning the chicken." A slight smile upturned the corners of Susan’s lips.
Tiffany turned and hurried out of the room with Justin.
"I saw Susan almost smile, that is the first time I have ever observed that phenomenon. I was proud of you for welcoming her into your family," Justin observed.
"Thank you, I think. It really changed her face, that little smile. We must give her more to smile about," Tiffany challenged.
"Well, where are we off to?" Justin asked when they reached his car.
"How about a bakery and a welcome home cake for dessert?" she suggested.
"I’m thinking. . . the central business district," he ended abruptly as he got behind the wheel.
"Okay, the central business district," Tiffany agreed. She observed a peculiar gleam in his eye. "They have the best bakery in town, what?"
"Yes, the best bakery in town," he repeated.
"You are not just going to the central district for cake, are you?" Tiffany frowned.

Chapter Eleven

"Well, we are back with dessert," Tiffany announced as they walked into the house.
"We are taking coffee in the living room if you care to join us. What is for dessert?" Diane asked.
"Wallah!" Justin announced, proudly producing a beautiful coconut cream cake with welcome home lettered in peach on top.
"Susan, come see this, dear," Diane invited through the doorway.
"Oh, it is too beautiful, thank you so very much." Susan seemed more relaxed than Justin had ever seen her. There was a softness to her features.
"And I have a surprise announcement for the hostess. Diane, you are ready to go back to work whenever you feel like it. I will sign the necessary papers in my office," Justin pronounced.
"Oh thank you, Justin. I am really ready to get back into the swing of things again. This house sitting has become really boring after surgeries and chemo," Diane gushed.
"Mother, I am so ready to have you back. You just don’t know," Tiffany echoed.
"I think you have really spread your wings in my absence, and I want you to keep doing more and stretching. Let me take the back seat for once, Tiffany, it is your turn to shine," Diane appraised her daughter.
"Shinning, is that what you call it? I had to tell a room full of girls that I had picked someone else to be our new model today. It is a lousy job at times, and I want you to take at least some of it back," Tiffany complained loud and clear.
"Well, at least I won’t have to hire another model when I go back to work. You have taken care of that chore for me. I really dreaded that. I was afraid no one would measure up to Jill, and I would have a really hard time replacing her," Diane voiced her opinion.
"Pamela Forte from Wichita, Ks. is our new model, and she is so enthusiastic. I think you will love her, Mother. There will never be another Jill, but the new model is super. We will have to work with her a little on her runway walk though," Tiffany informed Diane.
"I trust your judgment, Tiffany," Diane answered her.
"I’ll cut the cake," Susan said, heading to the kitchen with the cake in hand.
"I’ll make some coffee," Diane followed behind her.
"I’ll just sit here and wait," Sgt. Ross declared, leaning back into the sofa.
"I bet you are worn out after all your efforts for Susan today," Tiffany sympathized as she prepared to leave the room.
"I have never talked so fast to so many people in my life. It just seemed so important to get her out of there and back home with Diane," Sgt. Ross answered with an exhausted sigh.
"We will be forever grateful, Sgt. Ross," Tiffany commended him.
"Are we on for the Audubon Park Zoo on Sunday, Tiffany?" Justin interjected.
"Sounds wonderful to me," Tiffany agreed. "And just where did you go while I waited and waited for that cake?"
"Trust me, you will find that out before long." It was obvious Tiffany did not like secrets from her annoyed frown and crossed arms, but she would just have to wait this time, Justin thought to himself gleefully. "Now I am getting up really early tomorrow for surgery, it is going to be an auto accident case, a long one. I think I had better skip the cake and just hit the sack. Don’t expect me tomorrow night, Cherie. It is going to be a really long day." Justin broke his schedule to her reluctantly as he turned toward the stairs.
"It’s okay, Justin. I have a new model coming in, and I will have to show her the ropes, payroll time is here again, and I have a lot to catch up on at the Clothes Horse," Tiffany responded from the kitchen doorway. "I’ll join you upstairs shortly." She watched him leave the room with a bit of melancholy. He was not hers alone, would never be, she reflected with a degree of sadness. But she would celebrate tonight with Susan regardless, the sister she never knew she had. What an odd turn of events. Maybe the old saying was true, it was an ill wind that blew no good. It took a murder to uncover the secrets in her own household.
"Cake and coffee are served," Diane said cheerfully, carrying the cake plate into the living room followed by Susan and the coffee tray.
"That looks really good, ladies," Sgt. Ross said as Diane handed him a slice of cake on a brilliant blue plate.
Tiffany noticed that Sgt. Ross managed to place his hand on her mothers as she passed him the cake.
"Thank you, Milton." Diane flashed him a brilliant smile.
She was wearing a svelte pair of black silk trousers with a flowing oriental top in white with a vibrant parrot motif and classic black sandals. Her mom was a tasteful lady when it came to clothing, Tiffany thought. She looked at Susan for the first time and was shocked at what she saw. Susan was dressed in a huge dark shapeless dress. She is my sister, this will never do, she thought to herself.
"Susan, could I take you with me to the shop tomorrow. I would really like to help you select some new things."
"You think I might need a makeover or something?" Susan looked at her with questions in her eyes.
"Yes, you could say that, Sis." Tiffany smiled at her.
Susan frowned for a minute and obviously thought it over. Gradually, the dawn broke in her expression. "Since you put it that way, I guess I can’t resist. Will I look like one of your models?"
"Well, we will just have to wait and see what tomorrow brings," Tiffany answered mysteriously. She finished her cake in silence, tasting the sweet fresh coconut blissfully while Diane and Milton carried on a heated conversation about the murders and where the investigation seemed to be going.
"If you don’t mind, I will go up to bed. I have had a very strenuous existence these past few weeks," Susan said, gathering dishes and heading for the kitchen. "Thanks again for my cake."
"Of course, and don’t bother getting up early tomorrow morning to get breakfast, Susan. Sleep until you feel like waking," Tiffany urged her. "I’m going to hit the sack too, see you tomorrow, Mom, Sgt. Ross."
She walked quietly into the bedroom, listening to the peaceful sound of Justin’s deep breathing. His face in repose reminded her of a small boy’s. There was something fun, mischievous about him. Where had he been while she waited on the cake at the bakery? What was he up to? Maybe it had something to do with their trip to the Audubon zoo Sunday?
It seemed she had barely laid down when she realized that Justin was getting ready for work. She was still too groggy to get up. He did keep atrocious hours. At least he didn’t sing in the shower. Eventually, he came to her side and kissed her goodbye.
She was sufficiently awake to respond to the touch of his lips with some fire of her own. She deepened the kiss and tousled the chestnut locks on the back of his neck.
"Oh, Cherie, what I would not give for an hour or two," Justin moaned.
"Think about this weekend, Mister." She opened her eyes and gave him an inviting grin.
"You temptress, I will do little else." He patted her backside and then walked out of the room.
Tiffany snuggled deeper into the pillows and went back to sleep with a sigh. He was gone to work already, and she would have a long day ahead of her when she got up. But his days were even longer than hers. She had to admire this man she loved. He was doing good work in a world of pain and suffering.
Breakfast arrived with alarming speed. She sat at the table being served by her sister, Susan. What an odd turn of events.
"Are you coming to the shop with me?" Tiffany asked as she sipped her coffee.
"Yes, I think de clothes will be fun to shop for," Susan said, slipping into her soft Creole accent.
Tiffany took Susan’s hand as she came around the table. "Yes, Sis, we will have a wonderful time today in between my trying to catch up at work. I could sure use some accounting help with the payroll whenever you finish your courses."
"I will study hard, you will be proud of me, and then I will be there for you. I owe you so much, Tiffany," Susan began.
"Nonsense, I owe you, Sis. You have been there for Mom during this whole cancer thing, and I will never forget that. So, let’s hit the road." Tiffany put her cup down and pushed away from the table.
Arriving in the shop, John came up to them at once.
"Darling, what is she doing here?" He asked, looking at Susan accusingly.
"John, this is my half sister, Susan, and we are here to give her one of your fabulous makeovers. I want you to see that she gets the works today, hair, makeup, and wardrobe befitting a member of the Faire family," Tiffany commanded.
"Your sister?" John had a look of total bewilderment on his face. "I thought she tried to kill you?" He put his hands on his hips and shook his head.
"Actually, that was all a misunderstanding. We got that all squared away yesterday, and now this family is ready to move on," Tiffany announced as they moved into her office.
"But there is a murderer loose out there?" John questioned as he closed the door behind them.
"Yes, I am afraid that there is still a murderer lurking out there somewhere. And I am hoping that I am not on his dance card, but I received another phone call the other night, same as the one I received before this whole bizarre killing spree began," Tiffany admitted as she sat down behind her loaded desk.
"Lord, Tiffany, I am so afraid for you," John said, placing his hand on her arm solicitously.
"Hey, there is nothing we can do about that now, John. But my sister needs your undivided attention today before she gets introduced to society as Susan Faire," Tiffany told him firmly.
"And she will have it. Come with me, Miss Susan." John flashed a smile and rubbed his hands together, obviously getting into the mood for a major undertaking. "She has been addicted to plain Jane clothing and no makeup for far too long. I will have her ready to shine at a soiree in no time, trust me." John took Susan by the arm and led her out of Tiffany’s office.
Susan looked back at Tiffany with a little girl lost look as John dragged her out to the showroom floor and racks of clothing waiting to be tried on.
Tiffany watched them go, feeling a certain amount of envy. It would be much more fun to dress Susan then to tackle the paperwork that was mounded on her desk. But the payroll had to be done. The big show had provided ample funds, but there had been a large out lay of funds connected with putting on the show. Now it was time to balance the books.
Hours later, there was a knock on her door, and in burst John, still dragging Susan by the arm. Tiffany got up and almost staggered. She did not even recognize Susan with her long dark hair swept back in a graceful French braid, wonderful make up which brought out her large dark eyes, and a trim navy blue suit with a ruffled white blouse that accented her curves. Even her rather large feet, normally shod in housemaids stern black working shoes had been transformed in clinging nylons and sharp spectator pumps in navy blue and white.
"Susan, you look marvelous, John, you have outdone yourself," Tiffany commended him.
"It was easy. Susan was a beautiful girl under those frumpy clothes, servere hair style, and plain Jane clean face. You know that plus size model we have been looking for to do our fashion shows?" John began.
"Yes, oh, John, she would be perfect," Tiffany raved.
"Me, in front of people?" Susan stammered.
"You wondered if I were going to make a model of you, Sis, well the answer is yes. We have a real need of someone with your statuesque beauty. Now I know we have been rushing you, so don’t say anything just yet, only please, please think about it. We are talking part time here, so you could still attend classes. But I promise you the money is good," Tiffany coaxed her.
"Money, you would pay me money to be a model?" Susan stared at Tiffany as if she were daft.
"Look in the mirror, young lady. Tell me you do not see a beautiful woman staring back at you," Tiffany urged Susan, taking her arms and turning her to face the oval mirror on the gold floor stand in her office.
"I’m not sure who that lady in the mirror is yet. You will have to give me some time to think about it," Susan said softly, a tear pooling at the corner of her eyes.
"What’s wrong, Sis?" Tiffany asked her in alarm.
"I’m just so happy. My whole life I never felt like I belonged anywhere. You make me feel so welcome, Tiffany, like I really could be a Faire," Susan mumbled with tears in her eyes.
"Nonsense, you are a Faire, young lady, and you belong here with us," Tiffany reassured her, placing a comforting arm around her sister’s shoulder. "I think I have done enough here today and so have you, Sis. Lets go home and show you off to Mom, and we can all go out and eat a bite of dinner together, just the three of us."
* * *
Tiffany put her cup down and watcher her mom and Susan talking. It seemed peaceful, natural to be together as a family.
"I think I have her talked into being our model," Diane said triumphantly.
"If anyone could talk her into it, you could, Mom. I must warn you, Sis, mother can talk anybody into almost anything, she is the ultimate saleslady, " Tiffany assured her.
"Your mother, excuse me, our mother, did talk me into modeling, Tiffany, but it just seems so compelling," Susan declared, her face glowing in the sunset at their terrace table. "The clothes are the thing, I love the clothes. Never have I shopped for clothes like today or had my hair styled or used makeup. These were things my aunt frowned upon. She said my mother would not have been in trouble except for she was too pretty for her own good, and she was going to be sure nothing like that ever happened to me. But it did not help really. I still met and married my husband, and he was not a good man."
"Ah, Susan, I have a theory, you have to kiss a certain amount of frogs before you meet
your prince. It has nothing to do with beauty really. There is always a hippopotamus for another
hippopotamus," Tiffany expounded as she twirled a fork full of pasta in the air.

"I hope you are right, Tiffany. I hope that I will one day meet my prince like you and Dr. Mathews. Did you know that John was showing me de walk for the runway? I thought he was only joking with me while I was trying on the dresses and things. I never thought he was seriously thinking that I would become one of your models. I will really have to practice to get de walk right now," Susan said with uncertainty in her voice as she took a bread stick.
"He is better at the runway walk than some of my models, a perfect teacher for you," Tiffany commented.
"Don’t worry Susan, in a short time you will get the hang of it, and you will be walking down those runways like a pro," Diane encouraged her.
"I wish I had your confidence. But at least I am willing at this moment to try. It will be hard to have all those people starring at me and the flash bulbs going off." Susan stared into space, facing her dragons.
Tiffany reflected on Susan’s words. Meet her prince. Yes, Dr. Mathews, Justin, seemed to be her prince, but was he? It required trust, something she had very little of. Too often the princes had turned into frogs. With his job, he would not be there for her sometimes when she needed him and vice versa. Look what had happened to her parent’s marriage. But she did not have to worry about this today. They were still in the courtship stage, and she did not have to face her fears just yet. Of course, her father had a problem that affected every area of her parents’ life together. Justin, on the other hand, did not seem to have any problems with dependency on chemicals, thank God. That he might be a tad compulsive about his work was not something she could complain about in all honesty, because she was a tad compulsive about hers.
* * *
Tiffany walked into the house behind her mother and sister, enjoying their company immensely but missing Justin all the same. She would not try to call him because she knew he was spending hours in surgery. When he left the hospital, he would probably head straight home, grab a bite to eat, and hit the proverbial sack. He needed rest to keep up with his schedule.
"Sis, we are having a Saturday afternoon tea and fashion show, small scale at the Clothes Horse tomorrow, and I really need you to model for us. We have a number of queen size business women that we dress and no model for their style clothes. I am going to have Pamela Forte, our new model, come in too so you won’t be alone doing the runway thing for the first time," Tiffany confronted Susan when they sat down together in the living room.
"Oh boy. This is really short notice, Tiffany, and I am totally unprepared. You will pay me for this?" Susan looked at her with uncertainty.
"Yes, of course I will pay you and pay you well. We really need you, or I would not ask on such short notice," Tiffany reassured her.
Tiffany was secretly glad at five-foot seven she did not have the height for a runway model, or surely her mother would have had her up there. A good runway model had to be in the six foot range like her sister, Susan. She knew what Susan was feeling. She hated to be the object of stares, but as a model, people were eagerly looking at you, trying to see themselves in the clothes you are wearing. On the plus side, the money was good, and Susan would have a nice sum to attend college on. The hours were such that they could pretty well be scheduled around her classes.
"Goodnight, Susan, Mother," Tiffany offered as she walked to the stairs, a mystery book in her hand to relax with.
"Easy for you to say, Tiffany. You don’t have to worry about being a runway model for the first time in your life tomorrow." Susan glared at her.
"Yes, and I am secretly very glad about that, Sis," Tiffany tossed over her shoulder as she climbed the stairs.
* * *
Backstage, Tiffany picked her way between racks of dresses to the dressing room area. The women out front were being served tea and a variety of scones, cookies, and fresh fruit. Except for a few die hard coffee drinkers and those who would drink iced colas even for breakfast. It was almost show time. Everything was going well so she had come backstage to access the state of her two brand new models. She found the two girls in adjoining booths, fussing with their makeup and hair.
"Now girls, the hairdresser and makeup artist are doing you for the best camera effect so just let them do their job without any help from you," Tiffany smiled, that was one of the hardest things, to just let themselves be made up any old way and not complain when they felt they knew their own best look. John came back and instructed the girls to line up behind the curtain for the show to begin.
"It’s okay, Sis, you will do fine," Tiffany hugged Susan as she stood to follow Pam out to the runway entrance. "You are a real contender, Pamela, you just strut your stuff, girl."
"Thanks, Tiffany, thanks a lot," Pam said as she walked out of the dressing area.
It was like watching two beautiful, graceful and yet somewhat clumsy colts come out of the padlock. They were both going to be winners, of that Tiffany was sure.
Susan had an ashen hue when she started her walk from back stage. It was an amazing transformation from dowdy maid to striking model. She began hesitantly, but she got her stride in time. Her mint green mini skirt with long sleeved silk shirt accented her long legs and elegant dark eyes and hair. The hair stylist had arranged her hair in a pony tail clipped to one side with sweeping bangs. After a few strides, she forgot the setting and held her head up and enjoyed the jazz music sweeping her down the runway. Back safely behind the curtain, she hugged Pamela and told her it wasn’t so bad once you got out there.
Chapter Twelve


Sunday dawned bright and early. Tiffany put on a cool lilac kulott outfit and tied her hair on top of her head in a white silk ribbon. She put on her lilac pink lipstick and blotted it on a kleenex. She was almost through dressing when the bell rang. She went to her bedroom window and looked down to see Justin, his copper curls glowing in the warm sun.
"I’ll be right down." She rushed down the stairs to greet him. When she opened the door, his arms enfolded her, and his kiss took her breath away.
"I missed you." He looked into her eyes, searching for her answer.
"I missed you too," she whispered. It was true, every minute they were apart seemed an eternity, but they both led such busy lives. Separations were inevitable.
"How is it going with Susan?" he asked, stepping into the foyer.
"You know how I was a little anxious about her moving in? Well, it couldn’t be going better. She is a dear. Wait until you see her. John was in charge of her clothes and makeup, and he outdid himself this time. Susan, are you up yet? Justin is here, and I want him to see you." Tiffany called up the stairs.
"Okay, okay." Susan answered in a perturbed voice.
"She thinks I make too much of her looks. But she is just gorgeous, wait and see."
Susan came down the stairs, hesitantly, wearing a long white sun dress and paused at the bottom, looking at Justin for his reaction. A low whistle cut the air.
"Wow. It is a good thing for her, I met Tiffany first, Susan." Justin smiled at her impishly.
"Oh, thank you, I think, you naughty man. For that Tiffany should step on your foot," Susan growled at him.
"I promise to behave," Justin redeemed himself.
"Diane and I are going to church. We will be leaving shortly. Is there anything you want me to do before we go, Tiffany?" Susan asked.
"No, Justin and I are going to the zoo to do some sketching. You two just enjoy your day together."
"I remember when we were children that you were always drawing things, Tiffany," Susan reminisced.
"And I haven’t changed. Except now I have less time to sketch what I please. Mostly I design clothes now. But today is just for fun," Tiffany answered her. "I have to get my sketch book, and then we can go." Tiffany hurried back up the stairs.
Justin watched her go. Nice view, he thought to himself as she climbed the stairs.
It was not going to be just any day for him. He was nervous, something he usually only felt before going into the operating room when he had a difficult surgery to perform. He was usually the epitome of frosty decorum. Waiting was his game. He’d gone through medical school and internship after college. He did not rush into things, ever. He was sure she had a spell on him, but he didn’t really care in the least. If this was a spell, he was enjoying the hell out of it. But still, this was not like him at all. Whatever the reason, he just couldn’t wait any longer. What would she think? That he was an idiot?
She bounced back down the stairs, sketchbook under her arm and pencils in hand, to give him a sound kiss on the lips before they left the house.
"Wow, that tasted good." He grinned. Maybe today would go smoother than he thought.
"How did your surgery go?" she asked him as they walked out the door.
"It was tricky. The patient had a messed up forehead, and that is a hard area to work with, but I think when the healing process is complete, he will look just fine." Not something he could always say about his work. Sometimes in accident cases the results were not what he hoped. A very difficult thing for him and his patients to accept. But there were new techniques being developed every day, and these cases were turning out better and better. How did your book work go?" he asked her as they got into his car.
"I just hate that part of the business. Susan is going to take accounting, and as far as I am concerned, she can just take over the book keeping at the Clothes Horse when she finishes her studies. We did a good volume of business at our big show, so there was plenty of money to pay the bills. Good thing, because those shows don’t come cheap. The models demand a high price, the photographers, the publicity. There is a lot to this business besides just buying and selling clothes for fun and profit," Tiffany expounded.
"Sounds like it. I really never thought of it before. My working hours are spent mostly in scrubs, not very decorous," he commented.
"No, but they work for me." Tiffany smiled up at him as he drove across town in the early morning sun.
"Hum, you don’t say?" He gave her a wicked leer.
When they reached the zoo, Justin took his sketch book out of the back seat, and they approached the front gate.
"I feel like I should ask for two children’s tickets. It has been a long time since I went to the zoo," he commented.
"I adore the big cats, I can’t wait to get in there and sketch them," Tiffany said. ‘They have such fluid grace when they walk."
"Give me the gorillas, those eyes are so human," He answered.
"We have to stop for beignets and café au lait, or I will not be able to make it around the zoo walk," Tiffany demanded.
"You have only the best ideas, Cher." Justin headed towards the concession building in the front of the park. Napkins in hand and sketch books trailing behind them, he found a convenient bench to eat a bite before beginning their walk in earnest.
The sugary beignet contrasted nicely with the strong café, Justin reflected as he enjoyed the treat. Ah, what a prize he had picked for himself he thought as he looked at Tiffany’s long tawny gold hair glistening in the sun. Her emerald eyes were more beautiful and intriguing even than the eyes of the big cats. Would he ever tire of looking at her, touching her? He thought not.
"That was good, thanks," she said, licking her lips.
They started their walk with the elephants, African in a man made jungle habitat. They were not so large as the Indian elephants, and they were more used to being killed for their ivory than working in harness as the Indian elephant had been by man. "I like the trunks in particular. Hard to get just the right bend in them and the creases where they should be," Justin commented as he put his pad on his knee to sketch.
"Those small eyes and huge ears, quite a contrast," Tiffany remarked as she got busy with her pencil.
The morning turned to afternoon in seeming no time spent walking from exhibit to exhibit, drawing the animals as they went. At last they found a secluded place and rested against one of the ancient oaks, enjoying a breeze off of the water at the edge of the park. Justin put his arm around Tiffany and noticed far out on the water a boat of dark skinned men were fishing against the backdrop of the setting sun.
"I guess the time has come, Tiffany," Justin began, bringing her closer to himself with one arm.
"Oh, and what time is that, may I ask?" She wondered idly what he was planning. Maybe it had something to do with his disappearance the other night? Surely he was not planning to dump her. He would not do such a thing. Although it had been done before. But not in a long time by anyone who really mattered. Sure, it was not flattering to be brushed aside like an old shoe. But if Justin did such a thing, well, she just couldn’t bare the thought.
"I, I am not quite sure how to say this, Cherie. I have not had a lot of practice. I am in love with you." He gazed into her eyes.
"I love you too," she answered him quickly, putting her hand on his cheek. That was reassuring, he was not going to dump her with that opening line.
He fished in his pocket and brought out a ring, not just any ring, the most beautiful diamond that Tiffany had ever seen. It was pear shaped and had facets sparkling in the sun, it seemed like thousands of them. The band was white gold, and he slipped it on her finger in an instant. She looked at it in amazement. He had surprised her all right. But the fear bubbled up in her throat. Marriage, commitment, could she handle it? Would he be there when she needed him?
"I, I don’t know, Justin. This is so quick, so sudden." She fell back against the tree trunk and put her hands to her head. "I just don’t know," she ended lamely. This was it, and she knew all too well the outcome. If she turned him down now, chances were good they would never have a future together. She had a theory, there was a time when a man was ready to propose, and if a woman passed up that time, that was usually that.
He looked out on the lake and saw that the fishermen were getting closer. But Tiffany was farther away then ever. Whenever he tried to bring her close, she bolted. Maybe this whole thing was just not meant to be. He looked at her with deep sadness and decided to take a walk and give her some time.
"I’m sorry, Tiffany. I was hoping to make you happy, make both of us happy. I don’t know what to say. I’m going to take a little walk and give us both a chance to think. You don’t have to make up your mind now." He patted her arm in a fatherly gesture and strolled away. Out of sight, he started to run, letting the sadness he was feeling seep through his whole body like a fog.
Tiffany looked out into the water and watched as the boat carrying the fishermen came closer to the shore. In fact, as she watched, they appeared to be rowing faster than before.
What should she tell Justin. That she would marry him? But was love enough? Her mother obviously loved her father, and it hadn’t helped a bit. It was easy to say forget the past, start living in the present, but it was a lot harder to do.
The fishermen were almost to the shore when Tiffany felt an odd feeling, deja’vu. Something was familiar about the men in the boat. They had on off white shirts, and as they docked the boat and stood up, the shirts turned into robes, and they quickly pulled hoods over their heads. The figure in her bedroom, one of these men. The thought turned into icy cold dread as she screamed Justin’s name and started racing down the path he had taken. The park was almost deserted now with closing time so near.
The path that had been so dreamlike earlier when she and Justin strolled leisurely now had turned into a nightmare in the twilight, with branches reaching out to scrape her, and sharp curves making her ziz zag, almost losing her balance.
The men wasted no time and came after her with frightening speed. Whoever they were, they were not slow. Druids, some kind of voodoo priests, whatever had she gotten herself into? Marrying Justin would not be such a bad idea after all if she lived through this. It was hot, and her breath was coming in ragged gasps as she raced on through the winding path through the woods. The calves of her legs ached, and her shoes felt as if they were made of lead. Had these men been following them, watching and waiting? Probably that was the case. She had felt followed the night at the restaurant when the snake was dropped on their table. Someone was watching and waiting for a chance to kill her. Someone, but who and why?
They were gaining. She had no doubts about their motive, sweat dripped from her body. They would surely kill her if they caught up with her. The end was near, she could feel it. Fear added wings to her feet, and she ran on, dodging branches and watching for someplace, anyplace to hide.
Suddenly, when she looked up, Justin was just ahead of her, running in her direction.
"Justin, you came back! Thank God! Behind me," she managed to gasp out.
Justin took his Akiedo stance and pushed her behind him.
"Tiffany, keep moving toward the front gate, get some help."
" I’ll do it," she assured him and raced on towards the park entrance and park security.
Justin saw a glint of steel as the first man prepared to run at him. Justin turned sideways, and as his opponent got in range, he used the weight of his adversary against him, catching him off guard, and took the dagger out of his hand using thumb pressure. He brought a heavy blow against the man’s head with the handle of the dagger, leaving him unconscious on the ground.
As the next assailant approached him, knife drawn, Justin caught his arm and somersaulted, bringing the man’s own weight to bear against him, and he went flying through the air to land hard on the ground, the wind knocked out of him.
Justin whirled with borrowed dagger drawn as the other two men approached him. One of them managed to slice Justin’s forearm with his dagger before Justin knocked it out of his hand.
Sweat and blood dripped on the ground as fatigue began to wear Justin down.
The heat sapped his energy as he fought on in his life and death struggle with the dark men. He would never see Tiffany again, he thought sadly. He felt he was starting to lose his edge, when out of the corner of his eye, he saw the park security and a couple of policemen approaching with guns drawn.
"It’s all over. Drop your weapons and raise your hands," the stout policeman barked his order.
The sound of metal hitting the ground told Justin the struggle was over.
"Tiffany, how is she?" he gasped out.
"She is fine, sitting up at the front drinking a gallon of water when we came back here to help you out," the gray hared policeman with the high pitched voice answered.
"Who are these men?" the stout policeman asked.
"I have no idea," Justin answered honestly.
"We need to get towels to wrap that arm and get you to an emergency room so they can sew you up. That is a nasty cut," the older policeman said as he radioed the front of the park for clean towels.
Justin sat down on a nearby concrete bench to wait on the towels. In no time, Tiffany limped up carrying an arm load of towels.
"Justin, my God, what did they do to you?" She looked with alarm as she viewed his bloody arm.
"I think they got me confused with a Thanksgiving turkey and tried to carve me up," he wisecracked.
"Who are those men, and why are they trying to kill us?" Tiffany asked angrily of no one in particular as she wound the towels around his arm tightly.
"Cherie, that is the question of the hour. But surely the police will find out shortly, and maybe this whole thing will be solved at last," Justin tried to reassure her.
"Can you walk?" the stout policeman asked Justin.
"I think so." Justin rose to his feet and started slowly for the entrance with Tiffany on one side and the policeman on the other.
"Justin, I’ve been thinking. Marrying you is not such a bad idea, and I love the ring, it is so incredibly beautiful. The answer at last, that is where you were the night of your disappearance, buying my ring. In all honesty, I’ve had these fears about marriage since I was a child. Your feeling about your parent’s marriage effects your life," Tiffany said with her arms around him to help support his weight. "And maybe you won’t always be there for me, but you sure came through today, Love. I will try my darndest to always be there for you, Justin."
"I had given up on us, Tiffany. I couldn’t understand what you wanted from me. But now I guess I can accept that it wasn’t me you were running away from, it was the marriage thing. I realize I rushed you recklessly, but you have this effect on me, Cherie. Where you are concerned, I just have no patience. Normally, I am a very patient man. My last and only other engagement lasted five years, and I decided I was not going to make that kind of mistake with you."
There are no guarantees in life, Tiffany, but I will be there for you as much as I can be, of that you can be sure. And about children?" He wondered if her fears extended to child birth.
"I would love to have a little boy and a little girl, especially if they both look like you." She looked at him with adoration in her eyes.
"That’s kind of what I had in mind. Except they should look like you or maybe a combination. Do you have to work full time?" Justin thought of his children spending major time at baby sitters.
"No. Now with Susan coming on board in a couple of years full time and Mom back at the helm, I can take time off when I need to. Mom and I are discussing making John a full partner at the Clothes Horse. He has really come through for us during mom’s illness. He has proved himself very capable. And unless something awful happens, I think you can probably support us, am I right?" Tiffany smiled at him.
"Yes, Cher, I can support us quite nicely, thank you very much for the vote of confidence," Justin quipped.
"There is just one thing I want to know," the policeman asked as he walked beside Justin. "Am I invited to the wedding?"
"You certainly are, I am so terribly grateful to you and your partner for saving my fiance’s life," Tiffany thanked the policeman as they arrived at the front gate to be greeted by the ambulance.
"And we must arrange this wedding soon, Cherie. Waiting for you is ruining my sleep, and I have to get my sleep with my job. Think I’ll go in the ambulance, this arm is a mess. I’ll see you at the hospital, Tiffany." Justin gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and boarded the ambulance.
"And I’ll escort you to the car, young lady, we aren’t taking any more chances with your life today," the policeman assured her.
* * *
Diane had just made Milton a tall glass of iced tea with mint leaves from her herb garden. Spending time at home had allowed her to indulge her green thumb. Going back to work was all well and good, but she would miss her time puttering in the garden. The smell of freshly dug earth, the feel of good black dirt under her fingernails. She was just preparing to sit down with him on the terrace when the bell rang.
"Now, who could that be?" she wondered out loud
"Do you want me to get the door for you?" Milton offered.
"No, no need. I’ll be right back, you go ahead and enjoy your tea." He was such a dear man, Diane thought as she walked through the quiet house. The darkness was gathering. Maybe she should have let Milton answer the door?
"Mrs. Faire."
"Hoyida?" Diane beheld the loyal old servant of Louisa Prince.
"I came alone, please let me in so I can speak with you," her voice trembled.
"What ever has happened?" Diane was aware that Hoyida and Louisa, her late mistress, normally never traveled anywhere alone, never mind walking across New Orleans at night.
"He is leaving the country, Mr. Prince, and in the confusion I left," Hoyida stated.
"You were not happy there?" Diane questioned her.
"No, I have been a prisoner since my mistress died. She was going to divorce him and take me with her when she died."
"Really? Just a minute, Hoyida, there is someone on the terrace you need to speak to. Sgt. Ross is here." Diane led her into the house.
"Milton, look who I found at the door. Louisa Princes’ former maid, Hoyida. And she is telling me some very interesting things about Mr. Prince. He is leaving the country, and Louisa was going to divorce him," Diane began.
The phone rang sharply, and Diane reached for it.
"Yes, he is right here. Milton, it is your office." Diane handed him the cordless phone.
"Another attempt on Tiffany and Dr. Mathews? By who? The Egyptian body guards of Armani Prince? Things are beginning to make perfect sense. You will need to go at once to the residence of Armani Prince and arrest him on suspicion of murder. He is attempting to flee the country according to one of the servants who just made her way across town to talk to Diane Faire." Sgt. Ross had the beginnings of a smile on his face.
"Was Tiffany or Dr. Mathews hurt?" He paused, listening intently, "Dr. Mathews has a nasty gash on his arm but otherwise okay. Well that’s good at least. Do we know anything about these body guards?" he continued.
"They are the tomb people. They are tremendously loyal to Armani because he brought them out of their home to his palace. They live among the tombs, a very harsh life," Hoyida informed him.
"I think I just got my answer about his body guards. Are they loyal enough to kill for Mr. Prince, Hoyida?"
"They would do anything for their master," Hoyida assured him.
"Sounds like our men. It may be easier to get Mr. Prince to talk then these body guards of his." Sgt. Ross sat down on the porch swing, his forehead wrinkled with concentration. "Let me go, I need to listen to what Hoyida, the servant from Armani Prince’s home, has to say about what has happened. I will take notes and call you later."
"Hoyida, you must stay here with us. Come into the living room, and I will get you some tea. Have you eaten?" Diane questioned her.
"No, Mrs. Faire, I was too frightened to eat. I just knew I had to come here and tell you for the sake of my late mistress, Louisa Prince. I suspected, Louisa and I both suspected Armani’s involvement when Jill, the model, was garroted. Only we were both thinking that we were jumping to conclusions. But it is one method used in my country to dispose of unfaithful wives. Armani is a very proud man, he would have thought of Louisa divorcing him as the ultimate unfaithfulness, particularly if she tired to take a share of his American holdings with her. She would not have asked for a great deal. My mistress was very fair, she would only have asked for enough to get situated in this country and start making her own living," Hoyida said as she seated herself on a sofa. "But Armani could not handle even that much."
"How awful. I will bring you something from the kitchen. Was there any reason that you know of for Armani to stalk my daughter?" Diane asked, puzzled as she walked toward the kitchen.
"Yes, he blamed her for influencing Louisa with her independence. He blamed you also, but the fact that you were ill, kept his wrath away from you," Hoyida explained. When Louisa was murdered, then I was sure he was guilty, and I watched him and listened to every word he said and every word that I overhead the Tomb people speaking. It was not long before I got the whole picture. Louisa took the divorce papers with her when she left the house alone the morning she was murdered."
"I will call the office and ask them to take a search warrant and see if Armani is hiding those missing papers because none were found on Mrs. Princes’ body." Sgt. Ross picked up the phone, dialed, and spoke briskly.
Diane returned carrying a tray with some sandwiches and tea. She offered some to Milton as he sat making careful notes of the conversation.
"You think that Armani had all those people killed because of Louisa and Tiffany?" Diane asked, still trying to understand.
"He was trying to cover up the murder of Louisa, making it look like some kind of voodoo curse. To him, murdering these people is of little consequence." Hoyida tried to make his motives clear to Diane.
"Scary, really scary. He must be one evil man. You would never know from his public persona. You know, the playboy business man, carefree," Diane began.
"That is not the truth. He is very cunning, clever, and totally ruthless. But his charm is legendary. He won my mistress’ heart, and then he ignored her except for the business affairs when he wanted her on his arm or the birth of his children. A very cruel man," Hoyida said as she sipped her tea and took a bite of a sandwich.
"What are your plans, Hoyida?" Diane put her on the spot.
"I have none at this time," Hoyida admitted.
"Would you consider staying here with me? My housekeeper turned out to be my stepdaughter, a darling girl, and she is becoming a model and a college student so she will not have time to be a housekeeper too. I would pay you well, and there is plenty of room in this house for you. I am sure Susan could take time out from her busy schedule to show you the ropes around here, and we would enjoy some Egyptian cuisine on occasion."
She smiled at Milton, thinking that he might just have an adventuresome pallet also. He looked up at her with open admiration in his eyes.
"Thank you, Mrs. Faire. If you are sure this is not just charity on your part?" Hoyida probed her.
"No, Hoyida, this is need on my part. It just happens to work out great for both of us. Louisa was a dear friend as well as client, I am honored to have you with me." Diane looked into the darkness outside, remembering Louisa and Jill and thinking that they could rest easy now that Armani Prince had been exposed for the cold blooded killer that he was.
"I will need you to make some statements downtown, Hoyida. Do you have any objections to testifying in court?" Sgt. Ross watched her closely.
"Armani Prince is a very dangerous and powerful man. He may try to discredit me or have me killed to silence me. I want all my statements in writing so he cannot do away with my words. Yes, I will testify against him, and I hope it puts a stop to his evil reign." Hoyida had tears in her dark eyes.
"You are a brave woman, Hoyida." Sgt. Ross put down his tea glass with a resounding clink.

Chapter Thirteen

"They found the signed divorce papers in Armani Princes’ safe," Diane remarked as she poured herself a glass of punch.
"That sort of cinches that. I wonder if he confessed? Having his men caught in the act, I don’t think he has a prayer of getting away with the murders," Pamela said as she took a crystal plate at the buffet table and started to load her plate with shrimp and hot sauce.
"I think he will pay the full price for what he has done. Is it stuffy in here, or is it just me? I think I’ll have the air turned down a notch or two," Diane said as she started across the room, glass in hand.
Just then, Tiffany appeared at the top of the stairs. Diane paused, she had never seen her daughter look lovelier. She wore a full length pale blue silk gown with white silk heels. Her left hand at her side displaying the beautiful ring that Justin had given her the fateful day at the park. It seemed all of Dianes’ dreams for them would come true in just a few short weeks. A wedding in the gazebo with a white tent on the lawn. It would start to cool off by then, hopefully. Father Lawrence was a dear, from their beloved old St. Thomas Episcopal church on the square, of course he would perform the ceremony for them. There would be acres of jasmine and magnolias, a cake from the same bakery that made Susan’s welcome home cake. Maybe a white cake with raspberry filling? And she would be a bundle of nerves helping plan Tiffany’s wedding down to the smallest detail. Only a few intimate friends realized that Diane ever allowed herself to get nervous. She had always had to be the strong one in the family and the business. Maybe, she hoped, she could just be herself now and relax a little more.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, I propose a toast to my bride to be, Tiffany Faire, the reason for this party being the announcement of our engagement." Justin held his glass high in the air, saluting Tiffany as she came down the stairs. With a triumphant grin, he stood beside the piano where a white- haired gentleman had been tickling the ivories in a fast paced jazz tune moments earlier.
"Congratulations!" echoed across the room.
"And to my future mother in law, Diane Faire, for introducing us."
Diane drank the toast up like cream. She dearly loved playing match maker. Now, if she could just find someone suitable for Susan. Maybe one day, she and Milton would be toasted, but they were not into rushing things like youngsters. It was fun just to hold hands on the terrace and dream dreams. It took awhile to trust someone that completely again. Especially when their previous marriages had not ended well. But life was a gamble, and Diane was not opposed to taking another chance in time. She felt sure that Milton would be there when the moment came. There was a quality about him she had never sensed in her late husband, Gary Faire, the quality of patience.
Tiffany floated down the stair case and came to Justin’s arms in a rush. She had done it, she felt so proud of herself. True, there were still times that the nagging little voice inside told her she was nuts to get married, just asking for trouble. But if Justin were trouble, she could not wait to be in his arms every night until death do them part.
"Thank you, Cher." Justin murmured.
"For what?" Tiffany asked.
"For showing up at our engagement party." He winked at her.
"Wouldn’t have missed it for the world! How is the arm today?" she whispered in his ear.
The rooms were decked out beautifully, Mother had outdone herself for the engagement party. Roses in different shades of yellow and white graced the tables in crystal vases tied with wide white satin ribbons. White and yellow balloons festooned the walls in graceful displays tied with slender satin ribbons.
"I am having serious doubts about carrying you over the threshold," he admitted.
"That’s okay, Justin, I can walk just fine."
"You sure do. Coming down those stairs, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, Cherie." The music started, and Justin swept her onto the dance floor.
Susan came and stood on the edge of the dance floor with Pamela, looking lost in the crowd. Her sister, Susan, was so beautiful in her saffron off the shoulder gown with a tiny blue corn flowers pattern swirling on the silk across her broad hips. Pure red lipstick graced her full lips, and pale blue liner brought out her dark eyes in her oval face. Tiffany furrowed her brow as she watched Susan over Justin’s shoulder while they danced, trying to think of some way to get her into the swing of things. Susan really did not know that many people yet except as the housekeeper in the background. Her modeling style was becoming more spectacular day by day, and Tiffany felt sure Susan could have a career as a top model if she were interested, but Susan seemed to be more enthused about her studies. Math was Susan’s forte, something that Tiffany had always struggled with. She did business math, but it did not come naturally. They stopped dancing a few feet away from Susan.
"Hey, Justin." A young man came up and tapped him on the shoulder.
"Dr. Rikki Mohammed from India, meet my fiancee, Tiffany Faire. Rikki has been my right hand man in the OR since my injury has slowed me down a bit."
"Wonderful to meet you, Dr. Mohammed," Tiffany beamed.
"Do you know that beautiful young lady standing at the edge of the crowd? If she is free, I would appreciate an introduction," he asked Justin nervously, indicating Susan.
"Rikki, you are the formal one. You are in luck, Partner, that is my future sister in law, Susan Faire, and she is unattached if you are an honorable man."
"With your future sister in law, absolutely, Justin." Rikki assured him.
Tiffany brightened, Rikki Mohammed was a very handsome man, mocha skinned with curly sienna hair and intelligent dark brown eyes. Justin escorted him to where Susan stood alone now, since Pamela was dancing. Susan’s dark eyes danced with light as Justin introduced her to Rikki. Tiffany did not have a chance to observe much else because Rick immediately took Susan in his arms and had her out on the dance floor. Dr. Rikki Mohammed certainly did not look like a frog to Tiffany.
When Justin returned to her side, he had that "I know what I have to do next" look in his eyes. He took her hand and led Tiffany back to the punch bowl where Madame Boudreaux stood in a striking black cotton dress with a turquoise and silver belt, long gray hair swept down her back in a single braid, her silver eyes flashed recognition as they approached her.
"Marie, I am here to eat humble pie. I have to admit I thought your powers were a hoax, but you were absolutely right about the murders having nothing to do with the occult," Justine confessed as he approached her.
"Ah, Justin, I have to confess that most people have the power of intuition and observation, and I also have connections with many people here, so I am privy to much gossip. But I also know what I know." She gave him a tolerant smile. "Congratulations to both of you. I hope you will be very happy together."
"Thank you, Marie, we are so glad you could join us for the engagement party," Tiffany thanked her.
"I would not have missed it. You are some of my favorite people, Tiffany. I am overjoyed that things turned out so well between you and your sister, Susan." Marie looked at her knowingly.
"You knew about Susan and myself being sisters before I found out, didn’t you?" Tiffany asked her, hesitantly, not sure she wanted to know the answer.
"Susan came to me long ago and asked for some spells. I did not know all the particulars, but I knew that it was a family matter. She was so upset. She has blossomed here with you, I am so relieved to see her happy at last. She was a very troubled young woman when we met." Marie reflected.
* * *
Diane stood awkwardly at the edge of the dance floor, it appeared that duty had kept Milton from attending.
"Diane, may I have this dance?"
John, bless his heart, was there, offering her his hand. He looked very sharp in his black suit with the smart tiny red bow proudly displayed on his lapel, in contrast to the tiny pink bow on Diane’s rose colored dress. Both their lives had been affected by dread diseases that hopefully one day would be cured.
After the Dance, Diane took John’s hand and led him to the piano.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we have another announcement tonight. Tiffany and I have decided to bring John, our multi-talented tailor into the business as a full partner at the Clothes Horse, let’s give him a hand!" Diane said proudly.
"Thank you, thank you so very much. I love working at the Clothes Horse, even if you didn’t pay me so well," John spoke hoarsely. Under his breath he said, "Really, Diane, you didn’t have to do this."
"No, John, but we wanted to. Actually, this is long overdue. But you know how it is, so easy to take for granted the people closest to you." Diane smiled fondly at him and kissed his cheek.
"As my first official duty, I am declaring a fashion show at the beginning of December where we will show our latest party gowns for the holidays, and a nice fat check from the proceeds will benefit our two favorite charities, aids and breast cancer treatment and research, of course contingent on the approval of my partners at the Clothes Horse," John declared.
The crowd responded with delighted ohs and ahs.
"Our agreement on that goes without saying, John," Diane responded. They stepped away from the piano and walked back into the room.
Hoyida passed by Diane and John with a silver tray loaded with her barbecued meat tid bits on sticks and fig hors d’oeuvres and a broad smile on her dusky face.
"Try some, John, they are fabulous, Hoyida is a jewel in the kitchen," Diane urged him.
"Don’t mind if I do. They look great." John reached for several and bit into one.
"Really delightful, Hoyida."
"Thank you, thank you very much." Hoyida bowed briefly.
* * *
It was late when the last party goers finally deserted, and Justin and Tiffany found themselves truly alone at last in the garden in the light from a slender pristine white new moon. The pool glistened before them, inviting, cooling.
"I have a thought, Cher." Justin removed his coat and laid it on one of the pool side lounge chairs.
"I like your thoughts." Tiffany gave a low laugh and kicked her shoes off underneath the same chair.
Justin took her in his arms for a long inviting kiss. Then he turned her around to begin unhooking and unzipping her gown. At last she was freed from the silken bonds, and she turned to begin unbuttoning his shirt. The feel of his skin beneath his shirt lent wings to her fingers.
"It’s official, we are engaged to be married in a few short weeks. Are you okay with that, Chere?" Justin looked into her eyes.
"Yes, you are the love of my life, Justin, and I can’t wait to be the official Mrs. Justin Mathews," she reassured him.
"Just like that, all of your doubts have disappeared?" he questioned.
"No, I still have doubts. Fears. But you have to keep on living in spite of them. Life is about gambling, Justin."
"I know that, Cher. Every time I step into the operating room, I have to ask for guidance, and then I just do the best I know how to do. We met and fell in love, and I just couldn’t cling to my safe ways anymore. My defense against love was procrastination."
"You could never prove that by me, Mister."
"I did rush you shamelessly," he admitted.
She struggled with his belt buckle until he helped her to undo the leather strap.
At last their clothes laid in a more or less neat pile on the pool side chair.
He held her close, and then they dove into the sparkling clear pool water side by side.
She surfaced beside him, drops of water reflecting like diamonds on her skin and hair in the moonlight. Her eyes seemed even more enchanting in the dark, large, luminous, drawing him to her. He reached for her, bringing her close to taste her lips and her slender neck.
He touched her naked breasts, kneading them, touching them until the nipples were hard beads. Then he bent his head to kiss and suckle them, and she moaned softly, exploring his chest with her hands, gradually reaching lower until she grasped his erection.
She sent electricity through his whole body, and he lowered his fingers to touch her hidden seat of desire. She responded to him, arching against his hand in the water. Then she wrapped her slender legs around him, and he entered her gently, holding her hips as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
"I love you, Justin," she whispered.
"I love you, Cher, only you," he moved with her in the water, a dance of love and mounting passion.
Satiated at last, Justin released her, and Tiffany swam away, enjoying the coolness of the water against her bare skin.
"You know, it seems to be cooling off," she remarked.
Justin got out of the water and retrieved some dry thirsty terry towels from the cabana. He threw one at her as she stepped out of the pool.
"I think I’ll be able to sleep really sound after our swim," she informed him as she caught the towel and dried herself off.
"Likewise. I think I may do rounds just a tad later tomorrow morning at the hospital." He put his arm around her, and they walked through the quiet house and up the stairs to the bedroom.
"That sounds like a real winning idea to me," Tiffany agreed.
Taffy meowed and strolled reluctantly to the bottom of the bed as they disturbed her resting place smack dab in the middle of the comforter to climb into bed and curl up together for a long nights sleep.