Bayou Justice (8 page)

She chanced looking at Luc again. His eyes bored into her, but she couldn't read the emotions behind them. Was he guilty— or accusing? Her emotions were a mess when it came to him, and she'd thought she knew him. Obviously not well enough.

Justin, however, didn't hide his thoughts. “Funny how things always come back to
you,
Ms. LeBlanc.”

CoCo willed her temper back in check. “Maybe because I'm the one out on the bayou more than others, Mr. Trahan.”

“Odd, ain't it? That dead bodies seem to land here, at Grisson Landing—right by you.”

“That's enough, Uncle Justin!” Luc's words were sharp, but his gaze soft as it lit on her face.

“I don't enjoy it any more than you do, sir.” Despite her irritation, her southern manners wouldn't allow her to show disrespect. No matter that what she really wanted to do involved pushing him into the murky water.

“We're all a little upset, I s'pose. I didn't mean no insult.” Justin actually appeared contrite. What a revelation.

“No worries.” She shifted her attention back to the sheriff, who'd been standing silent, observing the exchange. “Is there anything else?”

“No.” Sheriff Theriot turned over the boat engine.

She watched until the boat disappeared on the horizon. With a deep sigh, CoCo shrugged off her uncertainty and fired up the airboat to complete her run. Too bad her heart wasn't in her actions. On the north bank, she found the last reptile she sought, one of the missing four alligators. She logged the location on her tracking sheet, and turned the boat homeward.

Her thoughts meandered as she tied off the airboat. Why hadn't the police found that gun last night? Why hadn't she or Luc seen it earlier? Maybe because it wasn't there then. The killer had to have come back and left the gun. Why? Just the thought of being out in the bayou alone with a killer made her flesh crawl. She shook her head and trekked up the yard.

The big live oaks and magnolia trees offered a canopy against the backdrop of the setting sun. CoCo paused and stared, her soul stirring with the gentle swaying of the wind. The hydrangeas lining the front porch boasted full blooms of pink, white and blue. How did the flowering plants flourish, while the house decayed before her eyes? Or maybe she only now truly looked.

Wanting to observe the plantation home from all angles, CoCo walked around the side. The breeze kicked up, lifting the sweet hint of the Confederate rosebush. She stooped to touch one of the blooms, rubbing the satiny petal between her thumb and forefinger. Smiling, she shifted to stand. Something shiny under the lower branches caught her attention. She bent again and reached for the object. Staring at it lying in her hand, CoCo ran a finger over the coin.

“CoCo!”

She jerked her head at her grandmother's call. Pocketing the coin, she headed around to the front of the house. “Yes, ma'am?”

Grandmere stood on the porch, her hand over her eyes. “Alyssa's on the phone. Wants to talk to you.”

CoCo climbed the stairs, her stomach already bunching in a tight wad of nerves. She derailed her train of thought— maybe Alyssa called just to say hello. Yeah and hippos flew on purple broomsticks, too.

Tara stood at the kitchen stove stirring a mouthwatering pot of gumbo, the cordless wedged between her chin and shoulder. She looked up as CoCo entered, and smiled. With her hands, she made a she's-jabbering-on-and-on-and-on gesture. CoCo bit back an answering grin when Tara said, “Oh, CoCo just walked in. Hang on a sec,” then held out the phone.

CoCo narrowed her eyes at her baby sister, gulped in a deep breath and then greeted their middle sister. “Hello, Alyssa.”

“What's this about you finding Beau Trahan's body in the bayou and all of you being suspects? I declare, CoCo, you need to keep a closer watch on things. You're supposed to be taking care of Grandmere and Tara. I'd come down there and straighten it all out myself, but work's got me so busy. Tara said you'd hired a lawyer because of some eviction notice? I can't bel—”

With a glare at Tara, CoCo sank onto a kitchen chair and waited for her sister to finish her tirade or run out of breath, whichever came first. Either way, Alyssa wouldn't shut up until CoCo assured her all was under control. Unfortunately, nothing was under control. Not one single thing.

S
waying his body with the Zydeco beat, Luc held the last note of the song on his sax. As the drummer hit the cymbal a final time, silence filled the small jazz club. A pause, then a burst of applause sounded. He nodded a bow before striding off the stage.

“Good set, boys,” Ralph the stage manager said as the four musicians hit the backstage area.

“Thanks. It felt good.” Luc packed his saxophone in its velvet-lined case. “I've missed playing.” He'd dearly needed the emotional release tonight. He and Justin had spent all afternoon at the funeral home, planning his grandfather's funeral. At least they'd managed to keep his mother away— she'd have turned the somber event into a social setting.

And CoCo hadn't called him back, despite his having left her three messages.

“You're too good to let so much time pass.” Ralph turned to include the other three men. “Drinks are on the house.”

Lifting his case, Luc smiled at the club owner. “A cola sounds perfect right about now,
merci.
”

The four band members followed Ralph around side stage to the club itself. People offered their appreciation as they wove through the throng in the hazy room toward the bar. The other three men nodded at Luc, indicating they'd catch him later, before walking over to sit with a group of women at a nearby table. Luc grabbed a stool, handing his case over the bar to Mike. “Keep this back there safe for me, will you?”

The bartender took the case. “Sure. What can I get ya?”

“A cola. With lots of ice.” Luc let his gaze roam over the crowded club.

A cloud of smoke hovered in the air, giving the appearance of mystery and intrigue. The jukebox kicked on now that the band had finished its last set. A modern, jazzy tune blasted from the speakers. Laughter periodically burst over the music.

“Here ya go.”

Luc swiveled around and grabbed the glass.
“Merci.”
The cold carbonated drink slid down, quenching his parched throat.

A buxom blonde in a red dress cut up to here and down to there sashayed to the bar and sidled beside him. “You blow that sax very well.” Her voice came out thick and hoarse, indicative of years spent smoking.

“Merci.”
Luc took another gulp of the drink. Ice clanked against his front teeth.

“It's been some time since I've seen you here.” She ran a bloodred fingernail down his plain T-shirt. “Where've you been hiding?”

That parched feeling returned, despite the empty glass he held in his hand. His biceps jumped as if they had a mind of their own. “Just been busy, Sadie.”

“Too busy for me?” Suggestiveness oozed from her every pore as she leaned closer, her bare shoulder grazing the side of his arm.

He jerked back as Mike tapped the bar. “Need another cola, Luc?”

He slid the glass to the bartender. “Please.”

“So, how've you been?” Sadie never did know when she fought a losing battle.

“Fine. You?” Luc took the glass from Mike and nodded his thanks before taking a sip. He made sure he rested his elbow closest to her on the bar.
Lord, make my actions honor You.

“Missing you.”

“You know, Sadie,” a distinctly familiar voice said from over his shoulder, “most cats don't stay in heat permanently.”

Luc spun around to face Tara LeBlanc. Hardly an angel sent to save him, but save him she had. Disdain dug deep into her delicate features. He swallowed. She looked so much like CoCo, his heart ached. Same dark eyes, although CoCo's tilted up more in the corners, like a cat's. The hair was the same dark color. While Tara's was board straight, CoCo's curled in long ringlets down her back. The memory of their silky feel caused Luc to clench his fists.

“Little Tara LeBlanc. Don't you have to be of age to get in here?” Sadie's throaty purr now came out like a growl.

“Don't play with me, Sadie. I haven't the time or the inclination to go slumming tonight, but I will if you insist.” Tara cut her eyes to Luc's face. “Glad to see you're at home, waiting for my sister to call you back.”

He swallowed again. “Just played a little music, Tara.” How did this much younger girl make him feel like a scolded boy?

She arched a single brow. “Oh, I can plainly see you're playing, Luc.”

CoCo had taught her well. Her claws were out and they were sharp.

“Isn't it past your bedtime?” Sadie asked.

Tara's icy stare froze the other woman's fingertips on his

shoulder. “If you know what's good for you, Sadie, you'll just push off.”

Now it was Sadie's turn to swallow hard. Hard enough that Luc heard it over the drone of the music. Finally she let out an exaggerated sigh and tapped his shoulder again. “I guess you need to babysit, Luc. Some other time, maybe?” Without waiting for a reply, Sadie popped on her tiptoes, planted a wet kiss against his lips, then turned and hustled away.

Luc wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and focused his full attention on Tara. While grateful for her intervention, he knew that expression. “What's bugging you, Tara?”

She popped her hands on her hips, once again reminding him of CoCo. “I just find it amusing that you try to weasel your way back into my sister's life, and then I find you out in a bar, hanging with sleaze.”

“I'd just finished playing and came for a soda. Sadie stopped by to say hello.” He downed his drink and set the glass on the bar.

“Yeah, I know how Sadie says hello.” Tara flipped her hair over her shoulder. “The whole town knows how Sadie greets men.”

“That's not fair.”

“Isn't it?” She raised one eyebrow again. “Shocking, really, to find Mr. Religion hanging out in a bar with a woman of, oh, let's just say, loose morals.” She made a
tsk
with her tongue. “I wonder what CoCo will think.”

Heat infused his chest. “Just because I know God intimately, Tara, doesn't mean I condemn others who don't.”

“Like you did with CoCo?”

Touché. Yes, her sister had definitely taught her well.

“Need another cola?” Mike interjected.

Luc shook his head. “No,
merci.
I'm about to head home. Just need my sax.”

The bartender passed his case over the bar to him. “See you next week?”

“Maybe.” Luc faced Tara. “Always a pleasure to see you, Tara.”

She threw back her head and chuckled. “I'm sure it is.” She stopped laughing and leaned next to him—close enough he could feel her words on his cheek. “Just remember this, Luc Trahan, if you hurt my sister again, you'll have to deal with me.”

He smiled down at her. “Is that so?”

“That's so.” She gave a grin that hinted at something in the corners. Something he couldn't quite make out. “And trust me, there's no place you can hide that the spirits I send after you can't find.”

Her sister had taught her well, indeed.

CoCo tossed her shorts at the laundry hamper and missed. A
clank
echoed on the bathroom's tile floor. For a moment, she was confused. Then she reached for what had fallen from her pocket.

Talking with Alyssa, or should she say, getting an earful from her sister had caused her to totally forget about the coin she'd found. Now she studied the metal doubloon. It looked like a genuine Confederate coin, but she couldn't be sure. She'd have to take it to be inspected. What if it was the real deal? How'd it end up under her rosebush?

She combed her wet-from-the-shower hair free of tangles and then brushed her teeth, all the while staring at the coin. What did it mean? How did it get in her yard? She tightened the sash of her tattered terrycloth robe, admonishing her runaway imagination. It was probably just a replica, something left over from Mardi Gras.

With a sigh, CoCo shoved it in her pocket, flipped off the bathroom light and marched into the hallway.

And ran smack into her sister.

“Tara!” She jumped back against the wall, her hand to her chest. “You scared me silly.”

Her sister laughed.

CoCo leaned forward and took a whiff of Tara. The stench of cigarette smoke clung to her sister like lichen to the cypress trees. “Have you been smoking?”

“No, of course not.” Tara narrowed her eyes. “If I had, it wouldn't be any concern of yours.”

The rebellious imp had taken over her sister's body again. “I just noticed you smelled like an ashtray, that's all.”

“I was down at the jazz club.”

CoCo moved past her sister toward the kitchen. She opened the icebox, in search of a cold canned drink. “Oh.” The liquid did nothing to put out the fire burning in her chest.

Tara followed on her heels. “No comment?”

If CoCo made a big deal about Tara's outing to a bar, her sister would turn on her. As much as it hurt, CoCo shrugged and acted as if it didn't matter, then took another long sip of soda. “None of my business, right?”

“Then I guess you don't care who I saw sitting at the bar with Sadie Thompson hanging all over him…” Tara dug her hip into the counter.

No. Not Luc. Not Sadie. Tara had to be teasing, or mistaken.
Don't say it, don't say it…

“I don't know, who?” She finished the drink, giving her an excuse to avoid eye contact.

“Luc Trahan.”

She crushed the aluminum can in her hand. After everything she'd suffered, she thought the pain couldn't hurt anymore. It did. Her heart still broke over Tara's words.

“Good for him.” CoCo tossed the can into the trash and headed down the hall.

Once again, Tara dogged her. “That doesn't bother you?”

Spinning around in her bedroom doorway, she faced her sister. “It's none of my business.”

“Funny, your expression doesn't match your tough words.”

Tears stung the back of her eyes. She couldn't take much more; she already felt like a big, fat failure, thanks to Alyssa pointing out all her shortcomings. On top of everything else, she didn't need to be reminded she'd given her heart to the wrong man. A man who didn't want her—a man she couldn't trust.

“Hey,” Tara reached out and gripped her elbow. “I'm sorry. That was mean of me.”

“It's okay. Seriously.” Maybe if she blinked hard enough, the tears wouldn't fall.

“No, I'm sorry.” Her sister shifted to put her arm around CoCo's shoulders. “And he wasn't really with Sadie. You know how that vixen is, she just draped herself over him. He was probably just sitting there, minding his own business. He'd been playing his sax.”

The memory of the song he'd written for her—and played so many times to an audience of her and her alone—assaulted her mind. Blinking didn't work. Tears pushed through and down her cheeks.

Tara hugged her tighter and moved her into the bedroom. “Oh, CoCo, I'm so sorry.”

“No.” She swiped away the moisture. “I'm just tired and overwhelmed. Really. I shouldn't even care what he does anymore.”

“
Shouldn't
being the operative word, right?” Tara eased her to the edge of the bed and gently pushed her to sit.

CoCo smiled at her sister. “Right.” She shook her head. “I don't know what's wrong with me. You'd think after all this time just the thought of him wouldn't twist my insides into knots.”

“It still does, doesn't it?”

“Yeah, as much as I hate to admit it.” As much as she hated part of herself for still loving him.

Tara sat on the edge of the bed and took CoCo's hands in her own and squeezed. “I told you, I think there's still a chance for you two.”

CoCo opened her mouth, but Tara shushed her. “No, after seeing your reaction, which you normally hide, I know you're still in love with him.”

“Doesn't matter.”

“I think he's still in love with you, too.” Her sister's tone was soft, as gentle as the breeze rustling through the magnolia leaves outside the window.

“He isn't. He left me, remember?”

Tara flicked her wrists and made a
pfft
sound. “He was emotional then. He'd just lost his father. Surely you can understand that.”

“He blamed me, Tara. Me!”

“And he's had time to realize he was wrong.”

“Apparently not. He immediately accused me of murdering Beau. Yeah, that's showing he doesn't blame me.” CoCo lowered her head and picked at loose threads in her robe. “I realize he's hurting now, too, over the death of his grandfather, but it's becoming his pattern—someone in his family dies and I'm somehow to blame.”