Page 22 of The Unseen

B LOCKING THOUGHTS OF L UCAS FROM HER MIND, AS SOON AS HIS Lexus disappeared down the driveway, Nicole headed for the family cemetery.

Carrying a notepad, she copied information off the tombstones in the Villard side of the cemetery, concentrating on Pierre and his wife, Therese-Louise, and their offspring, two boys, Francois Etienne and Jules Claude, the younger brother.

Jules and Simone had two children. Andre, the oldest, lived to be thirty-eight, but Josephine, the little girl buried beneath the statue of an angel, had died when she was only six. There were other gravestones, Andre’s descendants, but they had lived at a later time.

Aside from the curious gravestone that belonged to Francois, which gave no day and month of death, nothing else stood out among the markers of the dead.

Nicole headed back to the carriage house, then drove to the West Feliciana Parish Library on Burnett Road, just a few miles from Belle Reve.

The modern brick structure was family friendly, the floors carpeted in warm tones that matched the light wood furniture. Even better, Nicole knew Winnie Bonner, who had worked in the library since Nicole was in grade school, before she’d been sent away to boarding school.

“Mrs. Bonner?”

In a flowered blouse and navy polyester pants, her gray hair pulled back in a tight bun at the nape of her neck, the stout librarian turned at the sound of her name.

“I’m Nicole Belmond. You probably don’t remember me, but—”

“Of course, I remember you! You used to borrow books to write reports for your classes. I might have forgotten for a while, but these days, your beautiful landscape paintings have made you a local celebrity.”

Nicole smiled. “That’s wonderful to hear. If you think it would be appropriate, I would love to gift the library one of my pieces.”

“Oh, my, yes! That would be splendid.”

Nicole’s smile widened. “All right, I’ll pick something and drop it off. In the meantime, I’m working on a project that involves the history of Belle Reve. I was hoping you might be able to help me.”

“I’ll certainly do my best. Belle Reve is something of a landmark, so visitors are often interested in its history.”

“I know Pierre and Therese-Louise Villard built the house back in the 1870s. I’m looking for information on their children, particularly Francois, the oldest son.

I’m hoping I can find an article in an old newspaper, or perhaps someone in the area wrote something about the Villard family.

They were extremely wealthy, important people in the community back in their day. ”

Winnie started nodding. “The Villards meant a great deal to the people of St. Francisville. They were in the shipping trade, moving goods along Bayou Sara through the town, down the Mississippi to New Orleans. Of course, the town of Bayou Sara was washed away years ago in a tragic flood, but before that, Villard Shipping provided a lot of jobs. The family was well-liked and known to be great philanthropists. There’s a book by a man named Charles La Tour about Pierre Villard and his descendants. ”

Nicole felt a rush of excitement as Winnie started walking toward the section that dealt with local history. Winnie pulled a leatherbound volume off the shelf and handed it to Nicole.

“Though there may be other copies in existence,” Winnie said, “this, unfortunately, is the only copy we have. As you can see, it’s in very rough condition.

It was badly damaged in the flood of 1927 when some of the pages were destroyed.

You’re welcome to read it, but we can’t let you take it out of the library. ”

Nicole looked down at the worn, stained, faded red leather-bound volume: BELLE REVE: The Tragic History of a Beautiful Dream.

As Nicole read the title, a shiver of unease moved through her.

“Thank you,” she said. “This is a perfect place to begin.”

“We also have old copies of the Baton-Rouge Gazette on microfiche. It became the Baton Rouge Tri-Weekly Gazette and Comet, but that was years later. You’re welcome to take a look.”

“I think I’ll go through La Tour’s book first. That should give me an idea of what I still need to know.”

Nicole carried the volume over to one of the library tables, sat down, and took out her notepad. She began to skim the fragile, water-stained pages. At the cemetery, she had learned that Francois’s parents, Pierre and Therese-Louise, had died about a year or so after their elder son’s death.

Nicole wanted to know what had happened to them. More than that, she wanted to know what had happened to Francois.

She was tired by the time she finished reading La Tour’s account, her notepad full of information she had jotted down. She knew a good deal more about the family, discovered it had been Pierre’s dream to build the spectacular mansion as a gift for his beloved wife.

The first few years had been good ones. Villard Shipping had been an extremely successful business.

With the help of Pierre’s two sons, that success had continued.

Several pages with crumbled edges and print too faded to read left a time gap in the family history.

The frayed edges of a couple of missing pages looked as if they might have been torn out.

The next entry she could discern talked about the disappearance of the Villards’ oldest son: Francois had ridden out one morning in 1878 on his way to the docks, but never arrived.

There was speculation, of course. Rumors surfaced that he and his brother had argued, and he had simply ridden away.

Another version said the argument was between Francois and his father, the result the same.

Francois left without word, never to return.

The most common theory was that he had been attacked by thieves around the docks, an area known for criminal activity. That he had been murdered, his body never found.

The book went on to describe the grief his parents felt at their loss. His father began drinking and his mother was bedridden for a time.

Pierre and Therese-Louise were overjoyed when, a year later, after an acceptable period of mourning, the daughter of one of Pierre’s best friends, Simone St. Denis, became engaged to Jules Villard. The couple was married that summer.

There were more damaged pages. The family history resumed with the terrible news that Pierre and Therese-Louise had been killed a few months after the wedding when their carriage overturned on a bridge and fell into the water.

For a moment, Nicole paused, feeling a rush of sadness for the couple whose lives had ended so tragically, people to whom she felt a special connection through the magnificent house they had loved.

She went back to reading, trying to make out water-damaged paragraphs, some of which described the ups and downs of the Villard family over the decades that followed.

Jules and Simone suffered one misfortune after another, including several miscarriages and two stillborn births, and then the tragic death of their six-year-old daughter, Josephine, the little girl buried beneath the angel in the cemetery.

Only one son had survived to carry on the family line.

According to the book, unlike Pierre, neither Jules nor Jules’s son, Andre, had the business acumen necessary to run the company.

Jules’s mismanagement began the company’s long slide toward bankruptcy, and Andre’s ineptitude had made the problem worse.

Villard descendants were forced to sell Belle Reve to the Belmond family in 1925.

The story ended there, and Nicole closed the damaged leather volume. She rubbed the back of her neck as she rose from her chair and carried the book back up to the front counter.

“Thanks so much, Mrs. Bonner. I really appreciate your help.”

“Please call me Winnie, and you’re very welcome, dear.”

Nicole smiled. “I’ll be back with that painting and to look at those old newspapers. Thanks again.”

Ten minutes later, she turned the Audi down the lane leading to Belle Reve and pulled into the carport just as her cell phone rang. She grabbed the phone, saw Lucas’s name on the screen, and pressed the phone against her ear.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” he said.

“Not at all.”

“I wanted to let you know I was able to get Sean a part-time job at a place called Dave’s Home Supplies.

I figured a kid who liked to build model cars would be comfortable dealing with all the parts and pieces they sell in a hardware store.

It’s only two hours a day after school and it’s close enough to walk from the center. ”

“That sounds perfect,” Nicole said. “I’m sure he’s excited.”

“Seems to be.”

“Were you able to find any information about Francois?”

“I had a little luck, found an article online in the Baton Rouge Tri-Weekly Gazette. Nothing about Francois, but there was an announcement in the society pages about his brother Jules’s engagement to a young woman named Simone St. Denis.”

“Yes, I read something about it in the library.”

“I look forward to exchanging notes. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to drive out tonight. A problem’s come up with one of the boys.”

Disappointment warred with uncertainty. He’d slept with her. Maybe this was just an excuse.

Lucas continued. “One of Hugo’s friends was caught shoplifting in a convenience store a few blocks from the center. Looks like he’ll be spending the rest of his time in juvenile detention. I need to speak to his family and his attorney. Can I have a rain check for tomorrow?”

Nicole sighed, feeling relief and renewed disappointment. “I’m afraid I’m busy. I have a meeting with Anne Winston tomorrow night.” She wasn’t sure whether not being able to see him was good news or bad. She wanted to be with him—way too much. That was the problem.

“That might work out even better,” he said. “I’ll pick you up after you’re finished. What time will you be done?”

He wasn’t asking, wasn’t giving her a choice. He wanted to see her. It was scary how much she wanted that, too. “I should be done by seven.”

“I’ll be there to pick you up. Bring an overnight bag.”

“But—”

“I gotta run. See you tomorrow.” Lucas hung up the phone.

Bring an overnight bag. Her abdomen clenched with desire. She knew what it was like to make love with Lucas Devereaux. She wanted more of it, but she was afraid.

The truth was, she not only had trust issues, she also had abandonment issues. Her parents. Friends she cared about who had disappeared from her life. Men she had dated. Ryan.

But she had made her decision—at least for now. She would be spending tomorrow night with Lucas. Her body was ready. She just had to get her mind on board.