The Witching Hour (Lives of the Mayfair Witches 1)

"But why did she do that?"

" 'Cause it was Deirdre's, that's why. Miss Carl never had no right to any of those jewels. Miss Mary Beth left them to Stella, and Stella named Antha to get them, and Antha's only daughter was Deirdre. It's always been that way, they all pass to one daughter."

"Well, what if the necklace is cursed," Rita said. Lord, to think of it around Deirdre's neck and Deirdre the way she was now. Oh, Rita could hardly stand to think of it.

"Well, if it's cursed, maybe the house is too," Jerry said, "because the jewels go with the house, and lots of other money."

"You mean to tell me, Jerry Lonigan, that house belongs to Deirdre?"

"Rita, everybody knows that. How come you don't know that?"

"You're telling me that house is hers, and those women lived in it all those years when she was locked up and then they brought her home like that, and she sits there and--"

"Now, don't get hysterical, Rita Mae. But that's what I'm telling you. It's Deirdre's, same as it was Antha's and Stella's. And it will pass to that California daughter when Deirdre dies, unless somebody managed to change all those old papers and I don't think you can change a thing like that. It goes way back, the will--back to times when they had the plantation, and times before that, when they were in the islands, you know, in Haiti, before they ever came here. A legacy is what they call it. And I remember Hershman used to say that Miss Carl started law school when she was a girl just to learn how to crack the legacy. But she never could. Even before Miss Mary Beth died, everybody knew Stella was the heiress."

"But what if that California girl doesn't know about it?"

"It's the law, honey. And Miss Carlotta, no matter whatever else she is, is a good lawyer. Besides, it's tied with the name, Mayfair. You have to go by the name or you can't inherit anything from the legacy. And that girl goes by the name of Mayfair. I heard that when she was born. So does her adopted mother, Ellie Mayfair, the one that came today and signed the register. They know. People always know when they're coming into money. And besides, the other Mayfairs would tell her. Ryan Mayfair would tell her. He's Cortland's grandson and Cortland loved Deirdre; he really did. He was real old by the time Deirdre had to give up the baby, and the way I heard it, he was against it all the way, lot of good it did. I heard he really took on Miss Carlotta about that baby, said it would drive Deirdre crazy to give it up, and Miss Carlotta said Deirdre was already crazy. A lot of good it did."

Jerry finished his bourbon. He poured another glass.

"But Jerry, what if there are other things that Deirdre's daughter doesn't know?" Rita asked. "Why didn't she come down here today? Why didn't she want to see her mother?"

Rita Mae, they're going to take my baby!

Jerry didn't answer. His eyes were bloodshot. He was over the hill with the bourbon.

"Daddy knew a lot more about those people," he said, his words slurred now. "More than he ever told me. One thing Daddy did say, though, that they were right to take Deirdre's baby away from her and give it to Ellie Mayfair, for the baby's sake. And Daddy told me something else too. Daddy told me Ellie Mayfair couldn't have babies of her own, and her husband was real disappointed over that, and about to leave her when Miss Carl rang her up long distance and asked if they wanted to have Deirdre's baby. 'Don't tell Rita Mae all that,' Daddy said, 'but for everybody it was a blessing. And old Mr. Cortland, God rest his soul, he was wrong.' "

Rita Mae knew what she was going to do. She had never lied to Jerry Lonigan in her life. She just didn't tell him. The next afternoon, she called the Monteleone Hotel. The Englishman had just checked out! But they thought he might still be in the lobby.

Rita Mae's heart was pounding as she waited.

"This is Aaron Lightner. Yes, Mrs. Lonigan. Please take a taxi down and I shall pay the fare. I'll be waiting."

It made her so nervous she was stumbling over her words, forgetting things as she rushed out of the house and having to go back for them. But she was glad she was doing this! Even if Jerry had caught her then, she would have gone on with it.

The Englishman took her round the corner to the Desire Oyster Bar, a pretty place with ceiling fans and big mirrors and doors open along Bourbon Street. It seemed exotic to Rita the way the Quarter always had. She almost never got to go down there.

They sat at a marble-top table, and she had a glass of white wine because that's what the Englishman had and it sounded very nice to her. What a good-looking man he was. With a man like that it didn't matter about his age, he was handsomer than younger men. It made her slightly nervous to sit so close to him. And the way his eyes fixed her, it made her melt as if she was a kid again in high school.

"Talk to me, Mrs. Lonigan," he said. "I'll listen."

She tried to take it slow, but once she started it just came pouring out of her. Soon she was crying, and he probably couldn't understand a word she was saying. She gave him that old, twisted little bit of card. She told about the ads she'd run, and how she'd told Deirdre that she could never find him.

Then came the difficult part. "There are things that girl in California doesn't know! That property's hers, and maybe the lawyers will tell her that, but what about the curse, Mr. Lightner? I'm putting my trust in you, I'm telling you things my husband doesn't want me to tell a living soul. But if Deirdre put her trust in you back then, well, that's enough for me. I'm telling you, the jewels and the house are cursed."

Finally, she told him everything. She told him all that Jerry had told her. She told him all that Red had ever said. She told him anything and everything she could remember.

And the funny thing was that he was never surprised or shocked. And over and over again, he assured her that he would do his best to get this information to the girl in California.

When it was all said, and she sat there wiping her nose, her white wine untouched, the man asked her if she would keep his card, if she would call him when there was any "change" with Deirdre. If she could not reach him she was to leave a message. The people who answered the phone would understand. She need only say it was in connection with Deirdre Mayfair.

She took her prayer book out of her purse. "Give me those numbers again," she said, and she wrote down the words, "In connection with Deirdre Mayfair."

Only after she had written it all out, did she think to ask, "But tell me, Mr. Lightner, how did you come to know Deirdre?"

"It's a long story, Mrs. Lonigan," he said. "You might say I've been watching that family for years. I have two paintings done by Deirdre's father, Sean Lacy. One of them is of Antha. He was the one who was killed on the highway in New York before Deirdre was born."

"He was killed on the highway? I never knew."

"It's doubtful anyone down here ever did," he said. "Quite a painter he was. He did a beautiful portrait of Antha with the famous emerald necklace. I came by it through a New York dealer some years after both of them were dead. Deirdre was probably ten years old by that time. I didn't meet her until she went off to college."

"That's a funny thing, about Deirdre's father going off the road," she said. "It's just what happened to Deirdre's boyfriend too, the man she was going to marry. Did you know that? That he went off the river road when he was driving down to New Orleans?"

She thought she saw a little change in the Englishman's face then, but she couldn't be sure. Seemed his eyes got smaller for just a second.

"Yes, I did know," he said. He seemed to be thinking about things he didn't want to tell her. Then he started talking again. "Mrs. Lonigan, will you promise me something?"

"What is it, Mr. Lightner?"

"If something should happen, something wholly unexpected, and the daughter from California should come home, please don't try to talk to her. Call me instead. Call me any time day or night, and I promise I shall be here as soon as I can get a plane out of London."

"You mean I shouldn't tell her these things myself, that's what you're saying?"

"Yes," he answered, very serious-like, t

ouching her hand for the first time but in a very gentlemanly way that was completely proper. "Don't go to that house again, especially not if the daughter is there. I promise you that if I cannot come myself, someone else will come, someone else who will accomplish what we want done, someone quite familiar with the whole story."

"Oh, that would be a big load off my mind," Rita said. She sure didn't want to talk to that girl, a total stranger, and try to tell her all these things. But suddenly the whole thing began to puzzle her. For the first time she started wondering--who was this nice man? Was she wrong to trust him?

"You can trust me, Mrs. Lonigan," he said, just as if he knew what she was thinking. "Please be certain of it. And I've met Deirdre's daughter, and I know that she is a rather quiet and--well, shall we say--forbidding individual. Not an easy person to talk to, if you understand. But I think I can explain things to her."

Well, now, that made perfect sense.

"Sure, Mr. Lightner."

He was looking at her. Maybe he knew how confused she was, how strange the whole afternoon seemed, all this talk of curses and things, and dead people and that weird old necklace.

"Yes, they are very strange," he said.