Haitian Graves by Vicki Delany Read Free Book Online Page B

LeBlanc. He tells me your assistance is no longer needed on this case.”
    “Just helping out,” I said. I walked to my car. I held the door open for her. “Come into my office.”
    She climbed into the passenger seat. I switched on the engine. Cranked up the air-conditioning.
    “Look, Gail,” I said. Keeping it friendly. “They’ve arrested the gardener. He may or may not have killed Marie Hammond. But I don’t think LeBlanc’s the type to go to a lot of trouble trying to prove anyone’s innocence.”
    “My office will be following the case.”
    “Yeah. Good. But I also think Hammond’s wanting a quick resolution. A charge. A trial. Over and done with.”
    She lowered her sunglasses. “What are you saying?”
    “I’m saying the man’s more concerned about getting out of Haiti than mourning his dead wife. I’m saying his family life is darn creepy. I’m saying I’d be interestedto know why the housekeeper left so quickly.”
    “She quit. Vodou is strong here—you know that. She told Hammond she feared Mrs. Hammond’s spirit would linger.”
    “So Hammond says. I don’t know how you do things in the States, Gail. But I was taught that the spouse is usually the prime suspect. And that we don’t take our prime suspect’s word for what went down.”
    “Butt out, Robertson.”
    “Hey,” I said. “I’m just asking questions. Like a good cop does. Have you seen the kid today? Hammond belted him in the face. Hard enough to break the skin.”
    “This isn’t the States, Robertson. It’s not even Canada. People can discipline their kids the way they want here.”
    “But Hammond’s an American. You keep telling me that. He wants to take the kids back to the States. He’ll learn a thing or two about parenting there.”
    Her eyes slid away from me.
    “He is moving back to the States, isn’t he? That’s what I’ve been told.”
    “None of your business, Robertson. Once again, I’m telling you to butt out.”
    “You don’t tell me to do anything, Warkness. I don’t see that you have any authority here.”
    “And you certainly don’t. Leave these people alone. If I find you here again… if I find you bothering Mr. Hammond or his children again, I will put in a formal complaint. I can have you kicked out of Haiti.”
    “What the fuck?”
    She opened the door and jumped to the ground. She put her sunglasses back into place. “And don’t think I won’t.”
    Dumbfounded, I watched her cross the street with strong, purposeful strides.
    Nicholas had been watching the whole thing. Warkness spoke to him. She jabbed her finger at me. Then she got into her cheerful yellow Ford Escape and drove away.
    If I’d been alone, I would have pounded the dashboard. But Nicholas was still watching me. I gave him a cheerful wave before doing a U-turn and driving off.
    I only went as far as the next street. My heart was pounding. I pulled to the side of the road.
    Did Warkness know something about what went down when Marie died? Was she warning me off because she didn’t want me to know what she knew? Or was she just being difficult? Throwing her weight around? Because she could?
    She seemed awfully interested in the fate of Steve Hammond. And not the least interested in the truth of what had happened to Marie Hammond. Sure, it was an embassy’s job to help its country’s citizens if they ran into trouble. But not to the point of trying to derail a police investigation. I’d found out there was no serious bidding going on for the rebuilding of the palace. What then, I had to ask, was Hammond doing here? And what business was it of Warkness’s?
    Three women came down the street. They were laughing and joking. They caught sight of me watching, and their eyes turned wary. Their worn and faded but clean clothes said they were probably maids in nearby houses. I rolled down the window.
    “Hi. Can I talk to you ladies for a minute?” I gave them my friendliest smile.
    They approached my car but stopped a