Free G.T. Herren - Paige Tourneur 02 - Dead Housewives of New Orleans by G.T. Herren Page B

English Turn because at some point when the French were settling what is now the French Quarter, an English ship sailed up the river. French scouts spotted it and supposedly sent a crew down to meet the English and warn them about cannibalistic Indian tribes. Apparently, it never occurred to the English that the French might be lying, or why the cannibals hadn’t eaten the French, because they turned their ship around and sailed back out of the river.
    And, I reflected, Venus was probably right. New Orleanians are horrible snobs about crossing the river or even driving out to Metairie. I myself hated it so much that I avoided it as much as I possibly could, and bitched when I had to go to the DMV.
    “And no one is answering the phone at the Valence house?” That
was
odd. The last time I’d seen her— at a fundraiser for a battered women’s shelter— she’d delighted in telling me about her team of servants, especially the live-in housekeeper. “Where’s Chloe’s husband, Remy?”
    Blaine shrugged. “He’s not answering his cell phone just like she isn’t answering hers. We swung by on the way here but there aren’t any lights on.”
    “That’s so weird,” I commented, finishing the last bit of my po-boy.
    “You saw her last night at the premiere, didn’t you?” This from Venus as she crumpled up her sandwich wrapper and closed it up in the Styrofoam box her onion rings had come in. “How did she seem?”
    “I didn’t see her up close,” I said, remembering when Abe Golden called her up onstage. She’d been wearing that hideous emerald green dress with full sleeves and an Empire waist— a bad choice for her figure, as it just made her look pregnant— and of course who could forget the hideous braids? “Chanse and I were sitting in the balcony. She was grinning from ear to ear, very proud of herself.” Skittle yowled and leaped into my lap. “Come to think of it, I didn’t see Remy, but I wasn’t looking for him, either. He may have been there; I can’t say.”
    I thought about telling them that Chloe was suing Margery Lautenschlaeger, but decided it could wait until I spoke to Margery herself.
    “Do you have any suspects besides Billy Barron?”
    “Fidelis wasn’t a popular woman,” Blaine said carefully. “She’d managed to make an awful lot of enemies.”
    Venus stood. “If you think of anything, please give us a call.” She frowned. “I hate to have you walk us to the gate in this storm.”
    I smiled and walked into the kitchen, getting the spare keys out of my junk drawer. “Here you go— it’s the square one. Just drop them through the mail slot once you’re out.”
    Venus took the keys and opened my front door. “Don’t be getting yourself mixed up in any trouble, you hear?” She warned came with a smile. “We’ll let you know as soon as we make an arrest.”
    I nodded, and shut the door behind them. I walked back into the kitchen and sat down at my desk. I had three hours before my meeting at Margery’s. I opened my address book in the computer, and scrolled through the names until I found Chloe’s. It was old, from when I still worked at the paper, but maybe her home phone number was still the same. I dialed it and after a few rings, it went to voicemail. I didn’t like that— sure, maybe she’d given the servants the day off and had left the house— but it just didn’t sit right with me. I couldn’t imagine the Chloe
I
knew giving all the servants the same day off. The more I thought about it, the less I liked it.
    I tried her cell phone, and it went straight to voicemail.
    Her phone was still off? That’s really not like Chloe. Something MUST be wrong.
    I got up and made myself another cup of green tea, chastising myself for obsessing about it.
    But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong at the Valence place.
    Maybe I could drive over and just take a look around?
    I sat back down at my desk and sipped my tea.
    It wasn’t a
bad
idea. And if