Big Easy Bonanza

of us.”
    “Me?”
    “Had he had an argument with someone lately? Received any threatening phone calls? Did he seem frightened about anything? Worried in any way? Those are the sorts of things you might know.”
    She was already shaking her head. “No. He was always nice to everybody.” She dabbed at the tears that were starting to roll out of her eyes.
    “Did you ever meet the woman who preceded you at the bank? Estelle Villere?”
    She blushed. “No. But I heard about her. Everyone knew Stelly.” She varied the inflection on the name, so that it sounded slightly contemptuous.
    “Did you know she and Chauncey were an item?”
    She looked at her lap. “Yes.”
    “Look, Ms. Izaguirre, I know this is painful for you. I’m not trying to make it hard, but I have to ask.”
    She looked up and smiled again—putting on a brave front. “Sure. I understand.”
    “Okay, here’s a couple of really tough ones—some personal questions I have to ask along with the others. I understand that you also were seeing Chauncey romantically. Is that true?”
    She nodded miserably.
    “How was it going?”
    “Going? I don’t understand. Fine, I guess.”
    “Did he want to end the relationship?”
    “No. He never said that, anyway. Do you think he did?” Her face showed real fear.
    “I have no reason to think so. Did you want to change it at all?”
    “Change it?”
    “Break it off. Or maybe get married.”
    She looked Skip full in the face. “Officer—uh—Langdon—”
    “Skip.”
    “Skip. I could have been in love with Chauncey, but I held back to protect myself. I don’t think he was the kind of man who fell in love, to tell you the truth. Although people say—” She stared into space.
    “People say what?”
    “That he was in love with Stelly. Our relationship was different—it just wasn’t romantic, pure and simple.” She shrugged. “I have a little boy in Country Day, and I want to keep him there. Chauncey paid his tuition. That was our arrangement.”
    “Oh. Where is he now?”
    “Jimmy? At his daddy’s.”
    “Did Chauncey talk about Stelly?”
    “No. Never.”
    “Do you know why she left?”
    “No.”
    “Okay. I have a description of a woman I wonder if you know. She’s black, young—probably under twenty-five—very beautiful, with an angular face, and light skin that’s close to the color of her hair—a copper color, I’m told.”
    “That’s LaBelle Doucette.” Sheree Izaguirre was excited. “Omigod, I’d forgotten about her.”
    “Tell me about her.”
    “Omigod.” Skip noticed that she said “gowad” for “god,” the first trace so far of the famous charmer accent. She guessed Sheree Izaguirre had worked hard to lose it. “I can’t get over it. She came to Chauncey’s office and asked to see him—oh—a couple of months ago. Something like that. But she didn’t say her real name. Let me see now—”
    She put a hand over her face, thinking. “She only gave one name, but I can’t get it back. Oooohh—what was it?” She curled her hand into a tiny fist and beat the arm of the rocking chair. “Lynn! No, that wasn’t it. Yes, it was. I’m almost sure. Lynn. Anyway, it doesn’t matter, does it?”
    “She just came in and said, “Tell Chauncey Lynn wants to see him’?”
    “Oh, no. She said ‘Mr. St. Amant.’ ”
    “But something like that?”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “And, considering your relationship with Chauncey, weren’t you curious when a beautiful young woman came to see him and gave only her first name?”
    “You damn betcha I was!” All traces of tears were gone now. She was caught up in the thrill of the hunt. “And they had a fight too. You asked about fights? They had one—that bitch and Chauncey.”
    “What did they fight about?”
    “I wish I could tell you. I did everything but listen with a glass to the wall, but I couldn’t hear any words. Just shouting. And in the middle of it, Chauncey opened his door and pointed toward mine—the door of the reception room—and said, ‘Leave this office! Don’t you ever come here again!’ ”
    “Pretty dramatic.”
    “But I’ve got to give her credit. She might have been intimidated, but she opened up her purse and pulled out this little piece of paper she had all ready. She handed it to him and said, ‘Here’s my phone number if you change your mind.’ She went out the door, turned around, smiled, and waved—would you believe that? I swear to God, Chauncey turned purple. I’m not