Murder in the Garden District (Chanse MacLeod Mysteries) by Greg Herren Read Free Book Online Page B

well-liked around the company?”
    “Not really. I mean, he was the boss, and could—and did—fire people at will.”
    “Anyone who might hold a grudge?”
    “Who likes to be fired? But Wendell stepped down from the company months ago. I doubt anyone would have harbored a grudge all this time and waited. You get fired, you want payback right then and there.”
    “Who took over when Wendell stepped down?”
    “Rachel Sheehan. She’s married to Wendell’s cousin Quentin. Rachel was assistant publisher and moved right into his office. She’s a lot easier to deal with than Wendell—she’s tough, but she’s fair and doesn’t expect the impossible. Wendell did at times. Her maiden name was Delesdernier. Sound familiar?”
    Paige watched my blank face and laughed.
    “For God’s sake, Chanse, you are so fucking oblivious at times. Rachel’s father was mayor when Wendell’s father was governor. They fought almost constantly. They were bitter enemies.”
    “And his daughter married Governor Sheehan’s nephew?” That was interesting.
    “I always figured it was a political marriage—you know, the Delesdernier machine marrying the Sheehan machine. As much as we like to think marriages aren’t mergers nowadays, it still happens. Cordelia’s marriage was a merger, after all. Bobby Sheehan’s father was mayor, he built up a pretty strong machine here in New Orleans, but they were upstarts. The Spencer machine had been around since before the Civil War. Cordelia was the last Spencer. When they married the two machines merged.”
    “I was under the impression that Rachel and Wendell didn’t get along. Janna said that she and Quentin moved out because of it. How did they work together?”
    “The friction wasn’t between Rachel and Wendell—it was between Quentin and Wendell. They couldn’t stand each other. Rachel was really happy when Quentin decided to leave the Sheehan compound. I think they got a place in the Marigny.”
    I made a mental note to bump Quentin up on my interview list.
    “What does Quentin do?”
    “He lives off the trust.” Paige held up her hand. “Don’t ask me to explain it, because I can’t. Everything—the house, the company, all of it—belongs to the trust, and Cordelia is the trustee. All the Sheehans have an income from the trust, but for anything more than that they have to get Cordelia’s permission—and I don’t think she gives it very often. Apparently, she likes controlling them.”
    I smirked. “It seems so out of character for her.”
    Paige laughed. “I believe the terms of the trust were part of the problem. Quentin didn’t think he should have to ask Cordelia for his money—and I can’t say that I blame him. Wendell couldn’t have liked it, either. Can you imagine having to go to your mother for everything?”
    Her face froze for a moment.
    “I’m sorry, Chanse. How is your mother doing? I should have asked when I got here.”
    “It’s all right, really.” What was there to say? “She’s in good hands. She seems to be responding to the treatments she’s getting, and it looks pretty good right now. The doctors are cautiously optimistic, but there are no guarantees. You know.”
    I changed the subject.
    “You don’t think any of Wendell’s political enemies might be behind this, do you?” I finally said before we both started to squirm in our seats.
    “I don’t see how.” Paige said tentatively, taking her cue from me. “It was Janna’s gun. Cordelia fired it. Besides the kids, they were the only people in the house that night. That’s all there is to it, Chanse. But check with his campaign manager, Stephen Robideaux. He’d know. He came down from Lafayette to run the campaign. The office is actually only a few blocks from here, on St. Charles between Euterpe and Melpomene. You know which one I mean? I think it used to be a dress shop before the flood.”
    “I think I do.” I wrote his name down in my pad. “Thanks, Paige.”
    “Just be