Bayou Justice. Robin Caroll

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СКАЧАТЬ she pushed herself into a semisitting position. The queen-size bed seemed to swallow her, with the lightweight blue comforter and big fluffy white pillows.

      She looked even more frail and fragile in bed. He sat beside her. “Got some bad news.”

      Her blue eyes blinked in the half-light. “Mom?”

      “No, she’s fine.” He patted her hand. “She’s drinking, but that’s another story.”

      “Then what?” His sister’s angelic face wrapped in worry.

      “It’s Grandfather.”

      “What’s he done now?”

      “Nothing. They found his body in the bayou tonight.”

      “Body?” Her eyes filled with tears, reminding Luc of the Caribbean ocean, so clear in comparison to the murky waters around Lagniappe.

      “He’d been shot.”

      “I don’t understand.” Tears squeezed from her eyes and trickled down her gaunt cheeks.

      He gripped her hand tighter, wishing he could erase the pain from her eyes.

      “This is awful.”

      “I know.” He planted a kiss on her forehead.

      She grabbed his hand as he stood over her. “Luc, I’m mad at him, I mean I was, but I never wanted him dead.”

      “I know, Boo. Me, too.”

      Felicia wiped away her tears. “Where’d they find him?”

      Leave it to his astute sister to ask such a pointed question. He sighed. “Near Grisson Landing.” He waited for the reaction.

      She made the connection instantly. “Oh, no. Where Daddy died?”

      The irony of the situation hadn’t been lost on her. The pain tightening her features strengthened his resolve to find the guilty party.

      “Yes.” His vocal chords strained.

      The tears spilled again. “Who found him?”

      “CoCo.”

      FIVE

      Sleep deprived and nervous, CoCo paced the sidewalk outside the Vermilion parish sheriff’s office. She glanced at her watch, then peered down the asphalt road. What could be keeping Dwayne Williams? First thing this morning, she’d called his office and left a message. He’d returned her call before eight-thirty, assuring her he would meet her at nine-thirty for her to give her statement. According to Mickey on her wrist, nine minutes had passed since their scheduled meeting time.

      Lord, I need a little help down here. I know I’m innocent, but am not so sure about Grandmere and Tara.

      Wait! Did she just admit that her grandmother or sister could be involved in a murder? No way, no how. Practicing gris-gris and cunjas didn’t make one guilty of murder, did it? No, course not. Beau had been shot, not poisoned. Voodoo couldn’t pull a gun out of thin air, could it? She shook her head. She was being as illogical as Tara about superstitions.

      An old Lincoln pulled into the parking lot, its tires crunching the loose gravel. Dwayne slipped from behind the wheel and marched toward her. “Sorry I’m a little late. Had to stop by the office and pick up some papers.”

      She glanced at her watch. Wonderful, now they were fifteen minutes behind. What would Bubba Theriot think? She forced a smile. “That’s okay.”

      He clutched a briefcase in his hand, and now that she studied him, he looked like a high-dollar attorney in his fitted suit and tie. Her smile shifted to genuine.

      “This is standard and nothing to fret over.” He indicated the door with his briefcase. “Come on, allons. Might as well get it over with.”

      Taking in a deep breath, she grasped the handle and jerked the glass door open. The aroma of burnt coffee reeked across the foyer of the police station, mixing with cheap aftershave. It turned her stomach. Good thing she hadn’t had breakfast.

      Phones rang and people shouted, raising the noise level to a ten on the Richter scale. She fought back the instinct to clap her hands over her ears. Her soul ached for the quiet tranquility of the bayou. However, the memory that it hadn’t been so tranquil last night tapped her on the shoulder.

      “Keep going, Sheriff Theriot is waving us over,” Dwayne said, his deep baritone pervading the noise around her.

      She followed her attorney as he wove through the throng of police officers in the tiny station, keeping her attention focused on the floor. The cracked tile needed a good mopping. She studied the ground so intently that she nearly ran smack into Dwayne’s back when he stopped. CoCo jerked her head up.

      Sheriff Bubba Theriot shook hands with Dwayne, then her. She pulled away from his sweaty, beefy clasp. She forced herself not to shudder. She certainly didn’t need to offend the lawman.

      “Let’s head to the conference room,” the sheriff said. Without waiting for a reply, he herded them into a plain room, barren of any furniture save a table with four chairs, two on either side, and a single tape recorder.

      She dropped into the chair Dwayne held out for her, then he sat beside her. Sheriff Theriot took a seat across the table. She glanced around the room, noticing the large mirror on one wall. CoCo gave herself a mental shake. That wasn’t an ordinary mirror—there were officers on the other side, watching her. Even though Grandmere didn’t own a television set, CoCo had seen enough movies to know.

      “This is just a formality, CoCo,” the sheriff said as he reached for the tape recorder. “I’ll be recording your statement to make sure we get it right.”

      Yeah, right. He just wanted to trip her up. Nerves bunched in the pit of her stomach. She’d be so embarrassed if she got sick right here in front of the sheriff. Would he automatically assume her guilty if she did?

      “Ready?”

      CoCo gave her recorded statement, waited for it to be typed and then signed where the sheriff indicated.

      “We’ll call if we have any more questions,” the sheriff said as he showed them out.

      “You can contact me directly if you have anything further to ask Ms. LeBlanc.” Dwayne passed one of his business cards to Sheriff Theriot.

      CoCo and Dwayne escaped the stale air and chaotic noise of the station. Dwayne escorted her to the Jeep. “Would you like to go to the diner over there?” He nodded to the building across the street. “We can discuss what will happen now in regard to the eviction case, and you can ask me any questions you might have about the murder investigation.”

      Now that her interview and statement were over, hunger pangs gripped her stomach. “That’d be nice. Merci.”

      “I’ll meet you there.”

      The drive across the street took but a few minutes, yet the time gave her an opportunity to compose herself and get her head on straight. She glanced СКАЧАТЬ