Deadly Promises: A New Orleans Mystery

Book Description:

A young woman is gunned down during a detective's wedding; then several young women are found dead in a shipping container. Could these two cases be related? Two homicide detectives are searching for answers, along with the help of the detective's sister, an erotic romance writer, familiar with the chief suspects through her online connections. Take a walk on the wild side with this riveting New Orleans mystery.

Chapter One

The first day of summer in New Orleans was unseasonably cool, but the locals had no complaints. They were in no hurry for hot temperatures and the sweltering humidity that was sure to come soon. Artists set up their umbrellas in Jackson Square, waiting for the tourists to descend upon the Quarter. The wrought iron fence surrounding the square became their outdoor gallery full of colorful oils and watercolors of New Orleans scenes for sale.

Inside the bride’s room of the historic St. Louis Cathedral, Yvonne Dauphin adjusted her wedding veil. She was getting remarried to Steven, a good-looking English teacher who taught at Jesuit High School of New Orleans.

A well-respected homicide detective with the New Orleans Police Department, she took her cases to heart and poured everything she had into them. Her last big case involved trying to capture and arrest a serial killer nicknamed The Basher. It had been an especially difficult time in her life because, in the middle of investigating the case, she had a bipolar meltdown at work and was hospitalized. To complicate her life even further, she had been trying to get back together with Steven.

In the bride’s room as she prepared for her second marriage to him, she looked at herself in the floor-length mirror and told her younger sister, Danielle, I should have just chosen a wreath of flowers instead of this wedding veil. I feel like Miss America when she gets crowned and has to do a balancing act.

Here, let me help, her sister said. She pulled some bobby pins out of her purse and tried to pin on the cap of the veil so that the pins weren’t showing. There, that should do it.

Turning to her sister, Yvonne answered, I’ve missed you! Thank you for coming all the way from Paris to be my maid of honor. I know how expensive airfare is.

Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss this for the world. It’s so romantic that you and Steven are getting remarried. Just like Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton.

Yeah, and look how well that turned out. How many times did she get remarried after they divorced the second time?

Okay, bad example, but you know what I mean.

I’m glad that I get a second chance at love.

You’re very lucky, especially after you were unfaithful to him.

Don’t remind me. Rene was the biggest mistake of my life. She was referring to a coworker with whom she’d had a one-night stand while she was still married to Steven.

She frowned at herself in the mirror. Let’s not talk about that. This is my big day!

She stepped back and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her dress was a knee-length sleeveless white satin sheath with white lace over it. It was very low in the back.

What do you think of my dress? Do you think it’s too tight?

It does fit you like a glove, but I thought that you were going for that look. You look hot. Steven will love it.

I can’t wait to get out of it and back into my sweats.

Please tell me you won’t be wearing sweats on your wedding night.

No. I’ll be wearing my birthday suit. She struggled to adjust the veil and did her best to straighten it in the mirror.

Danielle took out her compact to re-apply her cherry-red lipstick. How come you’re able to get married in a Catholic church again, anyway? Isn’t it against church rules to get divorced, not to mention married again?

Steven got an annulment after he and his wife divorced. Plus, it helped that he used to be an altar boy here.

I bet they were surprised when you came back and asked to get married again.

The priest was happy that we were remarrying. Said that he always knew we were meant for each other.

Yvonne rifled through her purse, trying to find her cigarettes. Do you have any smokes?

Sure, but they’re the strong French ones.

That’ll do. I’m trying hard not to smoke but it isn’t working.

Are you sure it’s okay if we smoke in here? Isn’t there some sort of religious law about smoking in a church?

Religious law? C’mon. They burn all those candles and incense. What’s a little cigarette smoke? She pulled a chair over just under a transom window. Here, we can open this and no one will be the wiser. With the cigarette dangling from her lips, she kicked off her heels and stepping up on the chair, forced open the old window with a loud creak. There. That should do it.

So, where are you going on your honeymoon?

South Carolina. To Charleston.

Why there of all places?

It’s wonderful. It’s not Paris, but it’s a gem all on its own. We’ve always wanted to go on their home and garden tour. Plus, there are a lot of good restaurants that Steven is eager to check out.

You’re so lucky that you’re marrying a man who likes to cook, though I have to say going on a home and garden tour during your honeymoon seems a bit, well, a bit like our parents.

Yvonne laughed. Yes, I suppose it does. Maybe they had the right idea after all about doing what you like no matter what. Taking a pull on the cigarette Yvonne was quiet, lost in her thoughts. I wish they could be here. Sometimes I really miss them both. Mom would have loved this, wouldn’t she?

Yes, this is her element. She used to bring me here whenever we were in the Quarter. She’d always light a candle for Dad. I didn’t see it then, but I know now just how much she loved him. Danielle wiped away a tear from the corner of her eye as Yvonne wrapped her arms around her.

It’s just us now, Sister. Just us, Yvonne whispered to her.

Look at me! On your wedding day! Making a fool of myself! Now, what were we talking about before I got so morose!

Steven, Yvonne reminded her.

Yes, Steven! You’re so lucky to have him.

Yes, I am lucky with him.

He is very understanding of your problems with bipolar disorder, too. Especially after your meltdown during that Basher case.

Danielle, please stop talking about negative stuff. You’re making me nervous.

I can’t help it. I was worried about you when it happened!

Honey. Listen. We need to put that aside right now. It’s my wedding day, for God’s sake. Let me be happy. Yvonne took a long drag on her French cigarette and grimaced at its strength. Wow, these are strong, she said, trying not to cough.

Okay. I’m sorry, Sis. I am happy for you. Why do you think I came all the way from Paris?

The wedding coordinator rapped on the door and asked, Are you two ready to start?

Almost, Yvonne said, taking a last pull on her cigarette. She put it out in a cup of cold coffee and stashed it under the sink.

The coordinator peeked inside. I hope you weren’t smoking in here.

We know better than that, Danielle told her.

She turned to her sister and said, Come on, Sis. It’s showtime.

How do I look? Yvonne asked, smoothing her dress in the mirror.

Like a beautiful bride. I’m sure Mom is up there smiling. Come on, gorgeous.

The coordinator led them out a rear door and onto Pirates Alley. The three scurried up to the front of the church and noticed the throngs of tourists who smiled and took pictures of the bridal procession along the way. They opened the large doors of the soaring cathedral and came into the vestibule.

This second time around, Yvonne wanted the music to be non-traditional. Instead of Mendelssohn's Wedding March, she and Steven chose a local musician, a talented African American clarinet player, Doreen Ketchens, to play a rendition of the classic Stardust.

Yvonne peeked around the door into the nave. The pews were nearly full, and the sound of hundreds of voices filled the large, cavernous space. She recognized some of her colleagues and many of Steven’s friends who had come to celebrate their second union. She was pleased and honored that so many showed up, but she felt nervous and hoped she didn’t have a panic attack and keel over at the altar. Her hands were sweaty as she gripped her bridal bouquet.

Since her parents and brother had passed away, she asked her friend and detective partner from work, Rick Vente, to give her away. She had worked with him for years and they shared many homicide cases. She sometimes referred to him as her work husband. The last case they investigated brought them together in other, unexpected ways. When The Basher discovered where she lived and sent her a threatening letter, she temporarily moved in with Rick.

He looked very handsome in his tailored Italian suit and skinny black tie. Danielle fell in love with him at first sight, saying that he looked like Colin Farrell, one of her favorite actors. She hoped he would come alone to the wedding and not with the Garden District working girl he seemed to fancy.

He stepped into the vestibule and came up to Yvonne who had a broad smile on her face. He took her hands and kissed her on the cheek. You look beautiful today. Steven’s a very lucky man. Again.

Blushing slightly, Yvonne was caught off guard by his kiss and did her best to be gracious. Smiling, she gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Thank you for doing this, Rick. You don’t know how much this means to me.

Danielle cleared her throat, hoping to get his attention. He turned and took her hand. Hello again, Danielle. You look lovely today.

She sighed, wishing he had said more, and then he kissed her on the cheek.

The sound of a crooning clarinet beckoned and was their cue that the wedding was starting. Rick offered his arm to Yvonne. Are you ready, Detective?

It’s now or never. She took his arm, and he led her down the aisle. Steven was standing at the altar, a broad smile on his face. She smiled back at her soon-to-be-husband and felt a warm and euphoric rush come over her. After all that she had gone through, she was so happy that she was remarrying the love of her life. She had been wanting this man for so long and now finally they were going to make it official. Again.

Steven’s face beamed with pride when he saw his beautiful bride walking down the aisle toward him. He looked very handsome in his tuxedo and white dress shirt. Usually, he wore a corduroy jacket that had patches on the elbows, his teacher’s uniform, as he called it, but now he looked like a movie star. People told him that he looked like Clive Owen. He thought he looked like a regular guy—just a Southern teacher at a Catholic high school.

Yvonne fought back tears when she reached the altar. Rick relinquished her to Steven and the priest stepped forward. He raised his arms and signaled for everyone to be seated. A hush came over the church. Outside, the muted sounds of voices and music outside on Jackson Square filtered into the quiet. The priest, smiling at Steven and Yvonne, opened his bible and began, Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today to witness the union of this man and woman in holy matrimony. Suddenly, the ceremony was interrupted by a muffled pop sound and the voice of a woman screaming in the rear of the church. All eyes were diverted from the altar to the back rows where the woman stood and cried out, She’s shot! Oh, my God!

Chapter Two

Please, God. Not today, Yvonne said under her breath, glancing up at Jesus on the cross. She looked over at her husband-to-be. Steven, I’m so sorry. I have to check this out. Handing her flowers to her sister, she turned and ran down the aisle toward the rear of the church.

With Rick close at her heels, Yvonne made her way to the last row where a crowd had gathered around a woman sitting forward with her head resting against the pew. Yvonne sat next to her and noticed blood in the woman’s hair. Brushing back the hair, she saw a single bullet hole. When she felt the woman’s neck, she found a weak pulse.

Taking off her bridal veil, Yvonne wadded it up and applied direct pressure to the wound with it. A few minutes later, she felt for a pulse again and it was too late—the woman was dead.

She turned to Rick, who was on the phone with the paramedics. Shaking her head, she looked up at him, She’s gone.

Steven pushed through the crowd to find Yvonne sitting in the pew holding her bloody bridal veil in her lap. Oh, honey. How is she doing?

I’m afraid she’s dead.

Rick told the gathered crowd. Okay, can I have everyone back up and give us some room here?!

As the onlookers backed off, Lieutenant Landrieu appeared, looking every bit the one in control.

So, what do we have, Yvonne?

A dead woman, about mid-twenties I’d say. A single gunshot to the back of the head.

OK. We’ve sealed off the church completely and are checking every room in this place. One thing about having half the department here: we’ve got enough manpower to lock things down. Even so, I think I’ll call for more backup. Stay here until the paramedics arrive.

At Landrieu’s orders, the cathedral doors were shut and locked, guarded by well-dressed police officers there for the wedding. They stood scanning the crowd, worried that the shooter might still be there among them. Landrieu stepped out into the aisle and tried to get everyone’s attention.

Okay, listen up, everybody. I’m Lieutenant Landrieu with NOPD. I’d like everyone but my officers to return to their seats. Please remain seated until I tell you otherwise. We’ve secured the doors, so you are all safe and there’s no need to worry. Also, no one leaves until I say so. This won’t be fun, but you must stay seated. We’re going to need to speak with everyone. We’re going to have to check purses and bags. Please bear with us.

A moan went up among the pews.

I don’t like this any more than you do, but this church is now a crime scene. We need to do our job before letting you go. If anyone needs to use the restroom, we have a deputy here who will escort you; otherwise please remain seated.

Does anyone remember what happened? Rick asked a group of teachers from Steven’s school who were sitting in the second to the last row. One of the ladies said, I didn’t see or hear anything. I was looking at the altar. All I remember was that she just fell forward.

Did anyone hear a gunshot? he asked.

I heard a pop, a woman chimed in.

Were you the one who shouted?

Yes.

Do you recall where the pop came from?

Behind me. Yes, behind me.

Did anyone hear or see someone running away after the shot?

The schoolteachers shook their heads.

Does anyone here know this woman?

The group shook their heads.

Ma’am, how about you? he asked one of the teachers. You were sitting next to her, correct?

No. I never saw her before. She came in late and sat down right next to me. She sounded out of breath—like she’d been running.

Okay. Thank you all for your help. We may ask you more questions later but if anyone remembers anything else, anything at all, please give me a call. Rick handed out his cards to the group. Even the littlest thing helps. Now please remain seated until you’re told you may leave. Some uniformed officers will be coming around to take statements from each of you shortly. Hopefully, we’ll get you through this quickly.

After he walked away, a young blonde schoolteacher whispered to her friends, I’d like to call him sometime!

I wish he’d call me, a young woman said. They laughed and tried not to ogle.

A group of uniformed police streamed into the church, gathering at the rear. They looked around expectantly, acting as if they were unsure why they were there. The lieutenant made her way over to the group.

Okay, folks we need everyone who’s not NOPD interviewed. We have a woman, deceased, who appears to be in her twenties. You know the drill.

The group nodded in agreement.

I need three of you to talk to people outside in the square and around the church. Check with the nearby businesses and find out if they’ve seen anything. If anyone has any CCTV footage that points to the entrance of the cathedral, make sure we get that.

The officers dispersed and made their way down the aisles peppering the guests with questions.

An officer with the priest in tow interrupted Landrieu. Lieutenant, the priest would like a word.

She saw the priest and asked, Father. What can I do for you?

My apologies, Lieutenant. I realize that an awful thing has happened, but I wonder if you can tell me how long this will all take? I have a bible study group coming in at 3:00.

I’m afraid I can’t say, Father. I’m sure you will appreciate the nature and scope of what we have here. Right now, I need to make sure we find out as much as we can to help us determine why a young woman’s life was taken. We need to question everyone and go over your church with a fine-tooth comb. It could be hours, honestly.

Wringing his hands, he grimaced at her words. Oh, my goodness. Well, I guess I’ll make myself comfortable then. Oh, I thought you should know that I saw someone come in through the front door just before the poor woman was shot.

You did? Sit, Father, and tell me what you saw.

They sat on a pew while he carefully arranged his gold vestments. I noticed the door of the church open while I was blessing the couple and a person wearing a hoodie came inside.

A man or a woman?

I can’t be sure. I think it was a man.

Do you remember seeing him or her leave after the scream?

I’m afraid not. By then, everyone had stood, and I couldn’t see beyond them.

Is there anything else you remember or would like to ask me?

No, that is all.

"Thank you, Father. I promise I’ll do my best to get your church back to you as soon