Chapter 6

The west grove was sixty acres of citrus trees that had been in the Vandermeer family since 1889. Renee had walked it with Gus the first year she married Paul, listening to him name the varieties: satsuma, kumquat, lemon, grapefruit. Now the trees stood in rows under a sky the color of dishwater. A white survey stake still marked the fence line.

Paul drove. He hadn’t spoken since they left the house. Renee had the recorder in her purse, the brass tag in her pocket, and a copy of the deed on the seat between them.

Elias Boudreaux lived in a small house behind the packing house. He had been groundskeeper for twenty years. When he opened the door, he didn’t look surprised.

“Mr. Paul,” he said. “Mrs. Renee.”

“We need to talk,” Renee said.

He let them in. The kitchen smelled like coffee and cigarettes. On the table was a envelope with the Blue Heron logo.

“She already got to you,” Paul said.

Elias sat down heavy. “She paid me to say I saw Gus sign the deed. Said it was just paperwork, that the family needed it. I told her I didn’t see him sign anything.”

“Will you sign a statement?” Renee asked.

Elias looked at the envelope. “I got a granddaughter at LSU. I can’t afford to lose this job.”

“She’s selling the grove. You’ll lose it anyway.”

“Maybe. But if I talk, I lose it today.”

Paul leaned forward. “Elias. My daughter saw the surveyors. She found one of their tags. My mother is trying to have my wife declared unfit and take my kids. You know what she is.”

Elias rubbed his face. “I know she scares me more than you do.”

They left without a signature. In the truck, Paul gripped the wheel until his knuckles went white. “She’s bribing him.”

“She’s bribing everyone.” Renee looked at him. “You need to decide whose side you’re on.”

“I’m on Junie’s side.”

“Then act like it.”

They drove to Bellrose. Cece was in the orangery, supervising the removal of the Founder’s Day decorations. She looked up when they came in, and for a moment, she seemed almost pleased.

“Paul. I was hoping you’d come to your senses.”

“Did you pay Elias to lie about the deed?”

Cece’s smile didn’t waver. “Elias is a loyal employee. He knows how things work.”

“Did you forge Dad’s signature?”

“Your father signed that deed.”

“He doesn’t remember.”

“He doesn’t remember a lot of things.” Cece stepped closer. “You, on the other hand, signed it as witness. You remember that, don’t you? The hunting camp. The bourbon. The papers I brought you because you were too drunk to drive home.”

Paul’s face went slack.

“You signed it, Paul. You didn’t read it, but you signed it. If this goes to court, you’re not a victim. You’re a co-conspirator.”

Renee stepped between them. “You used your own son.”

“I used what was available.” Cece looked at Paul. “You were always available, sweetheart. That’s not my fault.”

Paul turned and walked out. Renee followed, but at the door she stopped.

“You’re going to lose,” she said.

Cece smiled. “I already have the trust. I have the lawyers. I have Gus’s medical file. What do you have? A child’s story and a husband who can’t remember his own crimes.”

Renee touched the brass tag in her pocket. “We’ll see.”