“My apologies, Mr. Pucci. My name is Luke Robicheaux. These are my friends Griff and Milo. We are part of an investigation team. We’d like to speak with you about your wife’s death.”
“My wife’s suicide,” he said sharply. “She killed herself. She left us.”
“Mr. Pucci, we know how painful this must be but surely you understand that your wife was in tremendous pain as well. Can you imagine that?” asked Milo. “Can you imagine being in so much pain that you would leave your family?”
Mario was quiet for a long moment, shaking his head and taking a step back from the door.
“No. No, I can’t imagine that at all,” he said. “Come in. Please have a seat. Can you tell me what you’re here for?”
“Mr. Pucci, are you from New Orleans?” asked Griff.
“I am. Born and raised. My mother owned a little voodoo shop in the Quarter for years.” The men smiled, nodding at him. “You don’t think that has anything to do with this?”
“Oh, no. We don’t think that at all but it might change the way you react when we tell you why we’re here.”
“Can we get you something to drink?” asked the daughter. She was maybe thirteen or fourteen, her brother possibly a year or two older.
“Water would be great,” smiled Griff. Mario smiled at his children as they left them alone. “They seem like great kids.”
“The absolute best,” nodded Mario. “Which only makes this more difficult for all of us. Clementine seemed happy and healthy. What she did to herself, how she did it…” The men just nodded at him unable to find words that might comfort him.
“Mr. Pucci, my grandparents, and now my parents, own a massive amount of land downriver. We have an island animal sanctuary and a few days ago the animals were behaving strangely.”
Pucci stared at him, listening intently but not understanding why he was telling him this.
“The island cannot be reached by anyone. The security is tight and we have cameras everywhere. My father is, well, very good with the animals. He was on the island trying to calm the animals. We all went out to see what was happening.
“As we were speaking, suddenly, a woman started walking toward us. A woman that shouldn’t have been there. She didn’t look at us, didn’t respond to our calls, nothing. When she walked by, there was a hatchet in her back. She walked on, disappeared, and has reappeared a few times since then.”
Pucci stared at the three men. At first, his expression was one of disbelief. Then it was one of awe and query. Then it was sad.
“She appeared to you, instead of me,” he said quietly.
“Mr. Pucci, she may have come to us for a reason. We’re not strangers to seeing ghosts and helping them,” said Luke. He almost couldn’t believe he uttered the words out loud but there it was. The truth out in the open.
“Did she say anything?” he asked.
“She said nothing. We’re trying to figure out what was happening with your wife the days before her death,” said Griff. “Were you two fighting? Were there any issues with the kids? Maybe problems for her at work?”
“No,” he said shaking his head. “We’ve been married twenty-one years and I can count on one hand how many times we’ve actually argued. Not disagreed but argued. We just didn’t do that. Our kids are amazingly well-behaved and good, kind children. She was very involved in their schools and outside activities.”
“Did she work outside the home?” asked Griff.
“No. I make a good living at my job and there was never a reason for her to work outside the home. She took care of the kids and the house, she was in a book club with some of the neighbor women. She was an involved, loving, caring woman. I just don’t understand any of this.”
“We’re trying to help, Mr. Pucci,” said Griff. “We’re not the experts here but a friend of ours, a psychiatrist, said that often when people leave things undone, their spirits are here, warning us, telling us something.”
“But she appeared to you, not me,” he said.
“Try not think about that,” said Griff. “Financially were things well for you? I know that feels invasive but were there any issues with money that you were aware of?”
“None. I managed our accounts, we managed our accounts. Together. She never spent a dime on herself.”
“Did you find anything strange, unusual in her belongs,” asked Luke.
“I-I haven’t been able to go back into our bedroom. I’ve been sleeping on the sofa,” he said shaking his head.
“I know this might seem an odd request but could we look at her things? Perhaps she left something that would give us a clue,” said Griff.
