The Whispering Room

Nash’s eyes were dark and penetrating as he turned to stare at her. “You’re still in love with him, aren’t you?”

They were crossing over the Huey Long Bridge, and the lights dancing off the dark surface of the river looked like stars twinkling against a black sky.

They were heading back into the city, back to the world Evangeline had shared with Johnny.

“A part of me will always be in love with him,” she said.

“Even after everything you know about him.”

“Yes. I still want him back. If I had the power, I’d still turn back the clock. No matter what.” She paused and drew a breath. “So with all that considered… maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”

He shrugged. “You’re probably right.”

She turned back to the window, strangely disappointed that he had acquiesced so easily.

Nash dropped her off at her house and waited while she went across the street to her neighbor’s to pick up the keys to the new locks that had been installed on both front and back doors earlier that morning.

Letting herself in, she stood at the window and watched as he drove off. Then she showered and grabbed a bite to eat while she waited for Lynette to bring the baby home.

After she fed him, she filled his little bathtub and washed the pureed carrots out of his hair as he splashed in glee. He loved bath time and the warm water seemed to relax him. By the time Evangeline lifted him from the tub and wrapped him in a big, fluffy towel, he was already rubbing his eyes. Freshly diapered and dressed in a sleeper, he lay cuddled against her shoulder as she rocked him to sleep.

As she placed him in his crib, her shoulder bumped the mobile, setting the cranes in motion. A shiver streaked up her spine, and for the longest moment, she stood gazing down at her slumbering son, wondering why she’d suddenly been drawn into Mary Alice Lemay’s dark and troubled life.

Walking over to open the window, Evangeline stood gazing out. The evening was soft and dreamy, with moonlight pooling on the grass and the scent of her neighbor’s roses filling the dusky heat.

It was very still out. No movement at all in the yard except for the subtle shift of shadows as the moon floated across the sky.

Evangeline leaned a shoulder against the window frame. Loneliness settled over her, but she welcomed it tonight. The desolation was like an old friend. Familiar and almost comforting.

She closed her eyes and tried not to think of Declan Nash.

A little while later, Evangeline curled up on the couch and closed her eyes.

For the longest time after Johnny’s death, she’d felt helpless and broken, so lost and lonely, she wondered how she would be able to get through another night. She knew that some women in her situation turned to other men, but the momentary solace of a stranger’s warmth was not for her.

Still, on some of the long, sleepless nights, she would allow herself to remember the comfort of a man’s arms around her, the erotic thrill of a gruff whisper, a shared laugh in the heat of the night. The intimate look that passed between a man and a woman when they wanted one another.

As she rolled onto her back, a soft knock sounded on the door. Evangeline closed her eyes. This was a complication she didn’t want or need in her life right now.

She swung her legs over the couch and sat for another moment before she got up to let him in.

“I’m surprised you’re still up,” Nash said.

“I’m too wired to sleep.” She stepped back from the door. “You want to come in?”

His gaze met hers for a moment, and then he moved past her into the living room.

She followed him in. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been thinking about those origami cranes,” he said. “You think someone left you a trail that led you to Mary Alice Lemay, but my question is…why you?”

Evangeline shrugged. “I guess it could be something as simple as my being assigned to the Courtland murder case.” She headed for the kitchen. “I could use a drink.”

She brought back a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses. Motioning him to a chair, she poured the wine and settled down on the sofa. “Did you really come all the way back over here to talk about origami cranes?”

Light pooled in his eyes, making them seem dark and light at the same time.

He leaned forward and set his glass on the coffee table. His gaze never left hers. “I’ve got a lot of baggage, Evangeline.”

She set her wineglass aside, too. “What am I supposed to say to that?”

He didn’t answer. “Two failed marriages, a daughter in prison. In prison. A job that sometimes demands a twenty-four-seven commitment.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“You know why.”

Evangeline saw the desire in his eyes before he could cloak it with the shadow of his past. She got up and went over to the window to glance out at the street.

“You’re not the only one who’s made mistakes, you know. We all have crosses to bear.”

He got up and came to lean against the window frame. “Is Johnny your cross?”