Bayou Justice (3 page)

Hunters…just the thought of them made her spine turn to grits. They weren't supposed to hunt any of the yellow-tagged gators, yet four were still unaccounted for since a month ago. Tracking these reptiles was her life's work—why she'd gone to college and graduated with a degree in environmental protection. She'd loved the bayous and swamps she called home and felt compelled to do her part to save them. She still did.

CoCo shut her bedroom door and whisked down the hall. Her fingers itched to fire up her airboat and get on the water. She made the turn at the top of the stairs, gripped the banister and then took the first step.

Whispers halted her movement. Coming from her baby sister's room.

She backtracked up the step she'd just taken and moved to Tara's door. Pressing her ear against the wood, CoCo held her breath and listened.

She recognized the mumbled words. An incantation of a
gris-gris.
Icy fingers tickled down her spine.

Jerking the door open, CoCo glared at her sister.

Tara sat cross-legged in the middle of her bed, a voodoo doll held in one hand, red paint dripping from a brush in the other. The doll already had two streaks across its body.

“What're you doing?” CoCo placed her hands on her hips.

Her sister didn't even bother to try to hide her actions. Instead, she lifted her chin and met CoCo's stare. “What you're too scared to do.”

CoCo inhaled through her nose, biting back the acidic retort stinging her tongue. “Tara, I've told you not to do this.” “I've told you—I'm twenty-four years old and you can't tell me what to do anymore.” She tossed her long hair over her shoulder. Being outside in the summer had lightened it with streaks from the sun. “Besides, you're just mad because Grandmere pays attention to me now.”

Guilt at Tara's even being exposed to voodoo nearly strangled her. “That's not it at all. You know better. She's only teaching you because I refused to learn anymore.”

“You're just jealous.” Tara's words might have sounded angry, but CoCo detected the hurt behind them.

“Oh, Tara.” She sat on the foot of the bed, her fingers absentmindedly tugging at loose threads in the pink coverlet. “I stopped learning because I know it's wrong.”

“Because the god you found told you it's a sin.” Tara leapt off her bed and set the doll and brush on the oak desk. “Goody for you, but you aren't going to take this away from me. I won't let you.”

CoCo fought to get her legs to support her. “I'm not trying to take anything away from you. I'm trying to save you.”

Tara let out a harsh laugh. “Save me? That's rich.” She narrowed her eyes and waved her hands. “Just go. Get out of my room and let me take care of things.”

“I've got it under control.” CoCo gestured toward the doll. “You don't need to do this.”

“Yeah, hiring an attorney gets it all under control. Who're you trying to fool? Old man Trahan has all the lawyers in these parts in his hand.”

Her words stung CoCo, just as if she'd been slapped across the face.

Maybe she should have called Alyssa. At the very least they could provide a unified front. Their stance against voodoo was about the only thing CoCo and Alyssa agreed on.

Dear God, show me how to reach Tara. Call her to You as You called me.

“Go, CoCo. Go play with your alligators.”

“It doesn't have to be like this.” If she could just help Tara see…

Tara shook her head and held up her hand. “I said get out of my room.”

When had Tara grown to be so rebellious and bitter? Had she failed her sister when their parents died?

“I said, go!” Tara slapped the blue doorframe hard. A framed photo of their parents dropped to the floor. Tara's eyes widened. “The picture fell off the wall. That means someone will die, CoCo.”

“That's just superstition.”

“Go!”

Without another word, CoCo turned and strode from the room and then down the stairs. She needed to get on the bayou, to be alone, to find peace. Her steps were quick as she made her way to her airboat. She untied the rope from the live oak stump.

A vehicle rattled down the gravel driveway.

CoCo turned, her heart and stomach switching places.

Luc Trahan skidded to a stop. What was he doing here? Through the windshield, his gaze met hers. Her betraying heart leapt.

She tossed down the rope and marched toward the truck. Luc got out, smiling as if he hadn't crushed her heart and dreams. “What are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to let you know Grandfather's acting on his own with this eviction thing.”

He looked good—too good. She stiffened her spine. “Doesn't matter. I've already retained an attorney to fight him.”

“Look, I think we—”

CoCo held up her hand. “There is no
we
anymore. You made sure of that, Luc.” She crossed her arms over her chest to hide her trembling. “I think you'd better leave.”

“But…”

“No anything. Just go. I want you to leave. Now.”
Please, please just leave.
She couldn't allow him inside her heart again. It'd taken her too long to regain her emotional footing.

He moved toward her, closing the distance between them comfortably.

She backed up a step. “I said to go, Luc.” Her heart thundered. “Please.” She hated herself for pleading, but knew the tears would come soon. She refused to give him the satisfaction.

As if he could hear her thoughts, he nodded, got into his truck and slammed the door.

Dirt filled the air as he sped off. It took her a moment to regulate her breathing. Her emotions betrayed her. CoCo narrowed her eyes toward the road, even though his truck had long moved out of view.

You won't keel me over again with a warm smile, Luc Trahan.
Not ever again.

W
hy, God? What more do You want from me? Haven't I paid enough? Lost enough? Repented enough?

How had she failed so badly? Tara, her baby sister, already graduated to
cunjas
and using voodoo dolls. CoCo shook her head in the darkness.

With Alyssa gone, the responsibility of looking after her baby sister fell directly on CoCo's shoulders. The weight often felt crushing. Hadn't she endured a bad enough day without having to deal with Tara's involvement in their grandmother's old ways? Why didn't they listen?

CoCo's stomach roiled. Grandmere wouldn't even bother teaching Tara if CoCo hadn't stopped her training. She sighed. Being a Christian sure didn't make life any easier—if anything, she'd had more heartache and grief.

And Luc showing up out of nowhere. Calling him had been a mistake, a big one. When the chips were down, why had she gone on auto-pilot and called in her knight in shining armor? She let out a breath with a gust. Some knight he'd turned out to be.

The only reply to her prayers was the tree frogs croaking, blending with the chirping of the crickets, filling the evening with the bayou's own unique song.

CoCo turned off her running lights, killed the engine of her airboat and let it drift. The soft lapping of water against the boat lulled away her frustration. She drew in a deep breath, sucking in the calming scents of the bayou—sweet onion flowers and muskiness. This was her habitat, where she felt most comfortable. It would be over her dead body before she left her home. No matter what deed Beau Trahan possessed.

A bump against the airboat sent it rocking. CoCo flipped on her spotlight and shone the beam into the water. A young alligator, maybe five feet long at most, nudged with his nose again. CoCo laughed. A little bull testing his dominance. She reached for her tagging tool.

Loud thrashing sounded to her left. Pinpricks of dread skittered against the back of CoCo's neck. She recognized the sound—water currents caused by an alligator having something in its death roll.

She jerked the light in the direction of the sound. Illumination reflected off the water, casting shadows into the weeping willow trees. There, a little farther to the left. CoCo shifted the light to the movement.

A flash of fabric. A twist of flesh. Another whooshing splash.

Heartbeat thudding in her ears, CoCo grabbed her noisemaker and pressed the button. The wail, imitating the guttural sound mother alligators made, bounced off the trees. She lowered the device to water level and sounded it again.

The alligator jerked toward her, leaving the body he'd had in his jaws. The young bull growled and grunted, defining his territory. The other gator dove under the water, slipping below her. CoCo kept the light on the older reptile. He surfaced a few feet from the young bull, who continued to warn off the other alligator with his rumbles. Within seconds, the bull attacked. The two reptiles rolled with one another. Waves rocked the airboat.

She sounded the noisemaker again. Both alligators faced her. She let loose another blast. The bull dove deep, surfacing 40 feet away. The other followed. CoCo trolled toward the human body floating facedown. Reaching behind her seat, she pulled out a long hooked pole. Her hands trembled as she jabbed the body with the hook and flipped it over.

The lifeless face of Beau Trahan stared up at her.

Leaning over the edge of the boat, CoCo retched and gagged. Once her stomach stopped heaving, she yanked the radio off its stand. “Alpha Tango Charlie to Vermilion parish sheriff's office.”

The static crackled over the radio, followed by a loud blast. “Sheriff's office, go ahead.”

“I need the sheriff out here at marker twelve-one-four, immediately.”

Again the crackling filled the night air, silencing the frogs and locusts. “Alpha Tango Charlie, what is the emergency?”

She glanced over at Beau Trahan's blank expression. “I found a dead body at this location.”

The dispatcher informed her a unit would be on its way shortly. CoCo replaced the radio and then gazed over the bayou, looking anywhere but at the body. She flipped on her night lights, turned on her distress signal and then sat. Her top teeth captured her bottom lip and rubbed.

God, what more?

Long moments passed before a siren whirred off in the distance. She stood and caught sight of the incoming boat. Blue and white lights tangoed like macabre dancers. CoCo engaged the trolling motor, moving the airboat to face the incoming vessel.

Sheriff Bubba Theriot, his thick glasses mirroring the flashing blue-and-white, nodded as soon as they drifted close enough to her. “CoCo, whatcha got?”

She jerked her head toward her shoulder. “Dead body. Heard the death roll, then saw him. Got the gators to leave with the noisemaker before I radioed in.”

A deputy killed the engines and directed the boat to where she'd indicated. Bubba glanced over the side, his red hair looking brassy under the boat's lights. “Oh, man. It's Beau Trahan.” He glanced over at CoCo, his face paling by the minute.

“I know.”

He turned to his deputy. “We need to drag him out and carry him back to shore.” His gaze flitted to the body for a second before shooting over to her. “We'll need you to make a statement.”

The deputy slipped the retrieval rod into the water, hooking Beau's waist in the curve. CoCo stared back at the sheriff. If she had to watch them haul Beau in, she'd hurl again. “Okay. Can I just meet you back on land?”

Bubba gave a curt nod. “We're closest to your house. We'll put in there. I'll radio the coroner to meet us.”

Great. She didn't want to see any more. Her property wasn't where she'd had in mind to meet, but at least she could go now. “Fine.”

She fired up the engine and whisked away as camera flashes went off. Shudders wracked her body. Everything about the situation gave her the creeps, but nothing more than the burning question—what had Beau Trahan been doing out in the bayou this time of night?

CoCo banked the airboat, tied it off, then rushed into the house. The screen door slammed behind her.

Grandmere sat up. “
Ma chère,
what's your hurry? You look like a band of demons are after you.”

“I found a body in the bayou.”

“Oh, no!” Her grandmother's voice bounced off the sunny walls.

Tara bounded down the stairs, the wood creaking and popping. “Grandmere, what's wr—” She stopped when her gaze lit on CoCo. Her eyes narrowed. “Oh, you're riling her up again, aren't you? Come to lecture her about me?” She crossed her arms tightly over her chest.

“Stop it, Tara. Contrary to what you may believe, everything is not all about you. I found Beau Trahan's body in the bayou.” Anger shoved out the fear and revulsion she'd felt just moments before. A hum echoed off the bayou, but she ignored it and glared at Tara.

Grandmere struggled to her feet, her curled fingers grasping the back of the torn couch. “Oh, my. Are you sure, child?”

CoCo's stomach knotted. “I'm positive.”

Her grandmother gasped, but Tara snorted. CoCo darted her stare to her sister and arched her eyebrows.

“Well.” Tara shrugged. “The old man got what was coming to him.”

“Tara!”

“It's true.” Her sister flung her straight hair over her petite shoulders marked with tan lines. “I'm not sorry.”

Boards creaked from the porch. CoCo scrutinized her baby sister, recalling how Tara used to run to her for help and direction. What had happened to that sweet little girl? How could her sister be so cold, so callous? “That's a horrible thing to say about another human being.”

“What, did one of your precious alligators get him?” Tara's mouth twisted into a sneer.

“No, ma'am. Mr. Trahan was shot in the back,” Sheriff Theriot said from the screen door. “May I come in?”

“Oh. Yes. Certainly.” CoCo pushed open the door and waved the sheriff into the room.

He ambled inside, already pulling his little notebook from his shirt pocket. He popped the top off his pen, sat on the couch and then looked at CoCo. “I need you to tell me everything about finding Mr. Trahan.”

She wet her lips and closed her eyes. “I was late getting to my run today because I had an appointment in town this morning.”

“About what time did you get on the water?”

Opening her eyes, she locked gazes with her sister. “About sevenish.”

“Isn't that a little late to be getting on the bayou?”

“Yes. I normally go in the morning and then again in the afternoon, but like I said, I had an appointment.”

Sheriff Theriot gave a little huff, scribbled something on his notebook, then returned his attention to her. He looked entirely too casual sitting on her grandmother's floral-patterned couch. “So, you got out on the bayou around seven. Then what?”

CoCo flipped on the lamp sitting on the sidebar. “I went through my normal routine, marking locations of the tagged alligators on my tracking sheet. I saw a new bull gator, a young one, and reached for my tagging equipment. That's when I heard it.” She pinched her eyes closed again. The action didn't block out the memory.

“Heard what?”

She stared back at the sheriff, fighting against the stinging tears. “A death roll.”

“And then?”

“I shined the light over there and I saw…I saw the gator had a human body.”

“Uh-huh.” He jotted on his notebook again. “Then what?”

“I grabbed my noisemaker and scared off the alligators.”

“Gators? Thought there was just one?”

“No, the young bull decided to defend his territory against the gator that had the body.” She hated the way her voice cracked.

“So, you scared them away. Then what?”

She hauled in a deep breath. Bad mistake. The stench of death lay just outside. She could smell it, sense it creeping into the house and settling between her shoulder blades.

“CoCo?” Sheriff Theriot tilted his head to the side, waiting.

“I got my stick out, hooked the body and then flipped it over. I radioed it in immediately.”

“I see.” The sheriff mustered to his feet. “That's all you can tell me?”

“Yes.” What more could she say?

“You didn't hear a gunshot? See any boats in the area?”

She thought for a moment. “No, nothing.”

“Uh-huh.” He ambled to the door, pushed it open, then leaned outside and spit. He turned back to face her, a bit of tobacco spittle lingering in the corner of his mouth.

Her stomach rebelled. She rushed down the hall, shoved open the bathroom door and bent over the toilet. Dry heaves shook her body.

“You okay?” Tara stood in the doorway.

CoCo leaned her forehead against the clawed tub. “Yeah.” She stood and turned on the tap. “I'll be there in a minute.”

“Just thought you might want to know, Sheriff said he called Luc.”

Marvelous. Just what she needed. The cherry on top of an already lousy day. “
Merci
for the heads-up.”

Tara nodded and left, her footsteps echoing on the wood floors. CoCo rinsed her mouth and splashed cold water on her face. She wondered how Luc took the news. This was a tragedy. However despicable he might have been, Beau Trahan was Luc's grandfather. She set the towel on the counter and then walked back to the living room.

Sheriff Theriot glanced at her through the screen. Men's voices filtered in through the door, riding on the beams of headlights. Other law officials and the coroner must have arrived.

“CoCo,” the sheriff said as he opened the door and stepped inside, “is it true you and Mr. Trahan had a disagreement yesterday?”

News traveled fast in the bayou. No big surprise there. “Uh, sort of.”

“Care to explain?” He cocked his bony hip against the doorframe.

It struck her that he looked an awful lot like that Opie character from the old
Andy Griffith
show. “It really wasn't that big of a deal. He gave my grandmother an eviction notice, and I asked him to leave.”

“An eviction notice? And you say it wasn't that big of a deal?” His unibrow crinkled.

“I mean, sure we were upset, that's the appointment I had this morning. I went to see my lawyer.”

“Who would that be?” He'd fished his notebook and pen from his pocket once more.

“Why does it matter?” All of a sudden, her stomach lurched again.

Sheriff Theriot gave her a what-are-you-hiding stare. “Just gotta verify it, that's all.”

“Dwayne Williams.”

He scribbled. His pen scratched against the paper, rubbing her nerves raw. “You say you weren't all that upset with Mr. Trahan yesterday?”