Bayou Justice. Robin Caroll

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СКАЧАТЬ waited in the entry of the diner, smiling as she approached. A middle-aged waitress with a sagging mouth sat them in a booth off to the side. While casting them a curious look, she took their orders for coffee, handed them menus, then sashayed back to the counter.

      “You did fine, by the way,” Dwayne said while perusing the diner’s offerings after the waitress had left.

      “Merci.” She scanned the items listed on the grease-spotted bill of fare. Eggs and bacon with toast sounded mouthwatering right now. She closed the menu and studied her attorney. He had to be close to her age, twenty-nine, or just a few years older. Her gaze slid lower. No wedding band adorned his left hand. How did an African-American lawyer end up in Lagniappe?

      “Is something wrong?”

      She jerked her gaze to his eyes. “Pardon?”

      “You’re staring at me. Is something wrong?”

      Heat shot up her neck and into her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I was thinking.”

      “About?”

      “Beau Trahan. Who killed him?”

      The waitress chose that moment to return. She filled their coffee mugs, took their orders and then hurried to another table of customers.

      CoCo caught the stares from some of the people at the other tables, understanding that many wondered why a white woman sat with a black man. Even now, decades upon decades after the Civil War, some of the Cajuns in the area still held racist beliefs. Small-minded thinking drove her insane.

      “You know—” Dwayne pulled her attention back to her question “—I’ve found Beau had a lot of enemies. During his time as a representative, he burned a lot of bridges. And he didn’t earn any hero worship during his stint as casino manager.”

      “True, he never was a really likeable man.” She avoided the glare from the man across the way. Hillbilly redneck in Cajun country, just shoot me now. She stilled at her uncharitable train of thought. Shoot… “Have you heard what caliber weapon yet?”

      He took a sip of his coffee. “While you were reading and signing your statement, I talked to one of the deputies. The autopsy will be later this morning. I’ll find out more this afternoon.”

      “Do they think he was shot in the bayou?”

      Setting down his mug, he shrugged. “What’re you thinking?”

      “If he was killed in the bayou, it would have been farther away from where I found his body. If he’d been shot around Grisson Landing, I’d have heard the blast.”

      Dwayne leaned over the table and lowered his voice. “Are you saying someone killed him elsewhere and moved him to the bayou, to that particular location? Why?”

      She ran her finger along the rim of the cup. “Either to implicate my family or to hurt the Trahans.”

      “Hurt them? I’m not following.”

      “Two years ago, Beau Trahan’s son died in an accident.”

      “I just moved here last year. What happened?”

      “Caleb, Beau’s son, was out in his pirogue and hit a submerged stump. The boat capsized and somehow, Caleb broke his arm.”

      “How horrible. Did he drown?”

      “No.” Images of Caleb’s body threatened to choke her. Lord, make them go away. She gulped coffee, scalding her tongue, but it dulled the horror in her mind. “Best the police can guess is he started swimming toward the bank, but his broken arm slowed him down.” Another sip. “An alligator got him.”

      “That’s atrocious. Did they find his body?”

      She nodded, closing her eyes briefly against the memory. It didn’t block out the visuals in her head. “My grandmother heard his scream and called the police. She called me on my radio. I rushed over, arriving right before the police showed up.” She shuddered. “A gator had him in a death roll. I managed to get the gator off him, but it was too late.”

      They fell silent as the waitress returned with their plates and refilled their coffee before bustling away.

      “So, another family member found dead in the bayou would hurt the Trahans?”

      “Not just anywhere, but Grisson Landing. Both Caleb and Beau were found there.”

      Standing outside the sheriff’s office, Luc ducked under the cloth awning, gaining relief from the blistering sun. Not even noon, but the heat already danced in the red of the thermometer. Humidity had to be in the high eighty-percent range. Miserable, that’s the only way he could think to describe the weather.

      He let out a long breath. The sheriff hadn’t been in the office, having gone to the coroner’s for the autopsy. The thought twisted Luc’s stomach. He’d stayed up nearly half the night battling the image of his grandfather being shot. His prayers brought him little peace. Truth be told, guilt had followed his conversation with God. Guilt that he’d accused CoCo and her family of being involved with Beau’s murder. No matter what, Luc couldn’t picture her, her grandmother or her sister shooting his grandfather. After a long grappling with the Holy Spirit, Luc knew he needed to talk to CoCo.

      He should head out to her house, apologize and get back to hear what the sheriff learned from the autopsy. That’s what he should do, but his heart screamed at him to say he was sorry for more than accusations. Even if she never accepted his words. He didn’t know if he could look into her emotion-riddled eyes and not apologize for leaving her, for ending what could have been their happily ever after. Did that scenario exist?

      Staring out across the street, he spied CoCo’s Jeep. How ironic. No, that wasn’t it. He glanced heavenward. Guess I’m not gonna get out of this one, huh, God?

      No, the conviction sitting on his shoulders wouldn’t let him avoid what needed to be done. He walked across the street, heading toward her vehicle. Maybe he could leave a note and prevent having to see the pain in her eyes.

      The door to the local diner swung open and out waltzed CoCo with a tall black man. So much for avoiding. He took a step toward her. “CoCo…”

      Her eyes lit on him, not filled with pain or remorse as he’d imagined, but with anger and resentment. The urge to step away nearly strangled him.

      “What’re you doing here? Following me?”

      “Of course not. I just wanted to talk to you for a second.” His heart skittered like a young schoolboy’s.

      She held his gaze for a moment, before turning to the man beside her. “Dwayne Williams, this is Luc Trahan. Beau Trahan’s grandson.” She jerked her stare back to Luc. “This is Dwayne Williams, my attorney.”

      Luc shook the man’s hand, his mind reeling. Attorney. She’d followed through with her threat to hire one. That shouldn’t really surprise him. He turned his attention back to CoCo. “I only need a minute of your time.”

      “What do you want?” She sounded tired, run down. He’d never really thought about how draining the situation—finding the body—had to be for her.

      “I СКАЧАТЬ