Authors: Lynn Emery
Tags: #murder, #murder mystery, #paranormal, #louisiana, #killer, #louisiana author, #louisiana fiction, #louisiana mystery, #louisiana swamp horror ghosts spirits haunting paranormal
“I feel like my ancestors brought on this
evil. Including what happened at the Metier House in 1837.” LaShaun
let out a long sigh. Some of the weight of her family guilt lifted
from her soul. But by no means all of it.
“Cher, there is something very deep going on
here. Father Gautier attended the trial of Clarissa Metier. He was
her spiritual advisor. I found an account that doesn’t name her,
but I’m sure this is the same incident from the way he describes
it. But...” Miss Rose paused dramatically. “Father Gautier
describes much more than that old newspaper article.”
“The murder was more gruesome,” LaShaun said
softly.
“Yes, her husband’s throat was cut so deeply
his head almost came off. ‘Only a slender thread of flesh held it
close to the poor wretch’s body’, is exactly how Father Gautier put
it.” Miss Rose gave a shudder. “He talks about what he calls
depravity. Mrs. Metier was rumored to have had many lovers.”
“Was she one of the truly evil or a dupe?”
LaShaun flipped the pages of the book.
“Father Gautier could never figure her out.
Maybe she was possessed,” Miss Rose said quietly. “Now, cher, tell
what has happened to Deputy Broussard?”
LaShaun felt a stab of ice cold fear in her
chest. “The blue light in my woods is back. And Chase is acting...
not like himself. He’s more aggressive than I’ve seen him before.
It’s not like he’s on edge or losing his temper. No, he’s cool and
calculating about using violence to enforce his will. No remorse,
and no apologies.”
“Ah, you know him much better than me, child.
Your gift will guide.” Miss Rose sipped more coffee and sat deep in
thought.
“Here’s another thing. Just the mention of
Quentin used to make him practically spit in disgust. The other day
he was joking about him, and we’re going to the Trosclair Mardi
Gras ball,” LaShaun said.
“Mon dieu. That doesn’t sound like a good
idea, cher,” Miss Rose exclaimed.
“Sometimes you have to track a predator
instead of waiting for him to come to you, Miss Rose,” LaShaun said
with a voice of steel. “I want to know how Quentin is connected to
any of this. He’s one who has chosen evil. Unfortunately I know him
well, too.”
Miss Rose gazed at her. “Quentin Trosclair
would have chosen his path even if he’d never met you.” Miss Rose
went back to sipping coffee and thinking.
LaShaun read a couple of pages before she
closed the book. “I don’t know what to do.”
Miss Rose gave LaShaun’s hand a maternal pat.
“Ah, cher, you must let go of your past. You hug it much too close.
As for what to do, you have your grandmother’s good sense and your
mother’s fire. You’ll find your way.”“I would gladly let go of my
past, Miss Rose. But it keeps rising up like a zombie to follow
me,” LaShaun said, her voice heavy with a dread of what might
come.
***
Saturday night at eight o’clock Chase picked
her up at home. Despite all of his long hours, he made time to
attend the famous Trosclair Mardi Gras ball. He looked magnificent
in a black suit. A black top hat and a silver mask was his only
costume. Yet he managed to look like a gentleman from a bygone era.
The heavy gold chain of a watch swung from the pocket of his suit
jacket. LaShaun chose to wear a lace shift dress the golden color
of the finest champagne. Her hair was in a French roll, and she
wore a gold headband around her head. She wrapped a fancy bronze
colored brocade cloak around her to keep warm against the chilly
night. When she opened the door, Chase let out a long whistle.
“You look so beautiful,” Chase said. His dark
eyes shone bright with desire.
“Merci, monsieur. I’m a lady from the
nineteen twenties ready to slip into a speak-easy and shake my
shimmy to some hot jazz.” LaShaun batted her eyelashes at him.
“We’ll hold off on the shakin’ until after
this party,” Chase replied. “For now, I’m going to shake hands to
get last minute votes.”
LaShaun’s amusement faded quickly when she
remembered where they were going. “Why don’t we forget about this
party? Since we’re all dressed up we could drive to Club Francois
in Lafayette for their Saturday night jam. We’d have a much better
time.”
“Yes, but nobody in Lafayette can vote in
Vermilion Parish. Now come on so you can make all those rich women
jealous.” Chase kissed her lightly on the forehead, and then swept
a hand out with a flourish. “Your carriage waits, princess.”
“My prince calls his pick-up truck a chariot.
Yep, you’re a true Cajun,” LaShaun quipped. She followed
instructions and went ahead of him out of her back door.
Despite her effort to match Chase’s good
mood, LaShaun’s unease grew as each mile slipped beneath the truck
tires. They drove toward the outskirts of Beau Chene to the
Trosclair family home. The moon glowed in the night sky like a
giant white mother of pearl disk. For once, LaShaun hoped Chase
would get a call that he needed to report for work. His phone
remained annoyingly quiet.
Chase brushed a finger against LaShaun’s
cheek. “Beautiful night, huh? The moon looks like it’s so
close.”
“There are a lot of myths associated with the
moon. For instance, in some African legends the moon and the sun
are lovers. The solar and lunar eclipses happen when they make
love.” LaShaun shrugged when he glanced at her. “It’s true. Look it
up if you don’t believe me.”
“You’re my moon. Let’s make an eclipse right
now. I can pull off under those trees over there.”
“Don’t you dare,” LaShaun said quickly and
pointed ahead. “You keep this truck on the road.”
He laughed hard for a few seconds. “Okay,
okay. Guess we’ll have to stick to the plan.”
LaShaun relaxed at the familiar playfulness
that she enjoyed. Maybe it was all in her imagination that Chase
was different. Still the reality of where they were headed poked at
her. “Honey, I’m really shocked that you agreed to attend a party
given by Quentin. You’re not exactly a fan of his. In fact, you
threatened to shoot him once.” (Read A Darker Shade of
Midnight)
“I’m willing to use his curiosity about me to
be more visible with high rollers.” Chase grew serious. “I did some
research. A lot of the society types that accept his invitations
don’t really like him. But his family still has a lot of power all
over the state.”
“Really? People don’t like Quentin? I’m so
totally shocked!” LaShaun fell back against the leather truck seat
in melodramatic fashion. “Maybe the fact that he’s a selfish,
backstabbing snake has something to do with it.”
Chase let out a bark of laughter. “Anyway,
you know the old saying about staying even closer to the
enemy.”
“Yeah, well sometimes it’s better to handle a
snake with a really long handle,” LaShaun retorted.
“We can debate it later,” Chase replied. He
turned the truck off the four lane highway that led to Beau Chene.
A wide street curved around until it ended. “Wow.”
Belle Oaks Drive ended at the Trosclair
family home driveway. Yet “family home” didn’t begin to describe
the three storied structured. Four Ionic columns graced the
wraparound porch on all three floors. All were lit up. The first
floor had golden hued lights, the second floor had green lights,
and the third floor had lavender lamps. The Mardi Gras colors made
the house glow. Garlands in matching colors had been wrapped around
the railing of each porch. A giant set of Mardi Gras Masks hung on
the huge double doors leading into the house. Valets kept busy
parking luxury cars that arrived.
“Damn, I should have put some Mardi Gras
beads on the truck to fancy it up,” Chase joked.
“Humph,” LaShaun said with a snort. “You look
mighty fine in this truck any day of the week.”
“Guess I won’t worry about you wanting to run
off with some guy in a Jaguar then.” Chase looked around at the
professionally landscaped grounds.
“All the glitter doesn’t impresses me.
Remember, Quentin has scales beneath those thousand dollar suits he
wears.” LaShaun placed a hand on his arm and squeezed firmly. “I
don’t miss those days at all.”
Chase gazed at her. “I don’t doubt your love,
darlin’, and I’m not jealous.”
“You have zero reason to be,” LaShaun said
and kissed his cheek. “Now let’s get this over with.”
A burly young man hurried to the passenger
door. “Let me help you, ma’am. Sir, I’ll need to see your
invitation.
“No problem,” Chase replied. He pulled the
envelope from his inside jacket pocket and handed it to him.
“Thank you, sir. Now if you leave the keys
we’ll safely park your vehicle.”
“I hope they’re paying you well tonight,”
Chase said as he handed the young man a valet key.
“I’m doing good,” the valet grinned back.
LaShaun put on her mask as she waited for
Chase to finish small talk with the valet. She listened to music
coming from inside. Chase joined her and they walked up the brick
path to the steps. As they crossed the porch, the doors swung wide
as though they’d been expected. A middle-aged woman took LaShaun’s
cloak.
“Here, ma’am. Put this ticket in your purse.
Not that I won’t remember you wore this lovely thing. Is this fur
collar real?” The woman held up the cloak.
“Thank you. No, it simulated seal fur.”
LaShaun smiled at her.
“My oh my. Y’all go on in and get some
refreshments.” She blinked at them. “You make a handsome pair, if
I’m not being too familiar.”
“Thank you, ma’am. All compliments like that
make you darn near family,” Chase said. The woman hustled off when
a stern looking man glanced their way.
“Well, let’s mingle with our betters,” Chase
murmured. He walked close to LaShaun.
“Trust me, no one here is better than us.
They’re all people with the same flaws. They just get to display
them in a more elaborate way with all their money.”
Chase chuckled. “You’re very cynical tonight.
So, does the place look different?”
“I’ve never been here before.” LaShaun raised
an eyebrow at him above her golden mask. “Sweetheart, I was not the
date Quentin could bring home to meet the folks.”
“What a naughty girl you were back then. Save
some of that for me later.” Chase put his arm around her waist.
“Stop,” LaShaun whispered, but giggled.
“Someone is going to hear.”
“No one has noticed us. They’re too busy
drinking expensive wine and eating this fancy food.” Chase waved to
a passing waiter with a tray of goblets.
“Don’t let these folks fool you. We’re being
discreetly examined. Once they warm up we’ll get some interesting
questions. I give it maybe five minutes before the ice is broken.”
LaShaun smiled as she took a sip. “Yes, only the best.”
A woman with reddish blonde hair glided over
to them. She wore a floor length cream silk gown that draped her
slender figure perfectly. The long sleeves ended in a bell shape at
her wrists. Perfect white teeth sparkled when her blood red lips
parted in a smile.
“I’m Janine Trosclair. Welcome to our little
gathering. I don’t believe we’ve met.”
Janine Trosclair gave Chase an appreciative
head to toe look. Then she turned to LaShaun. Her smile faltered
for a second, but she recovered quickly. Her exclusive
private-girls-school manners took over. An artificial smile
stretched her thin lips up at the corners.
“Deputy Chase Broussard, and this is my
fiancée Ms. LaShaun Rousselle.”
“You’re running for sheriff of Vermilion
Parish. How wonderful that you could be here. I don’t care what
some of my husband’s friends say. I think you’re just as qualified
as Mr. Godchaux.” Janine’s velvet tone delivered the zinger as
though she was merely making polite conversation. Still her eyes
glittered as she waited for a reaction.
LaShaun knew instantly that the woman
relished manipulating tense, even explosive scenes. “Why thanks for
your confidence, Mrs. Trosclair.”
“Please call me Janine, LaShaun. Now that
we’re friends, Chase, let me introduce you to Bill Ambrose. You
might have seen his name in the papers as William J. Ambrose. He’s
the CEO of the southeast division of Pantheon Corporation. His
grandfather was one of the founders.” Janine paused. “You don’t
mind if I borrow Chase for a moment. This is a golden opportunity
for him to make connections.”
“Of course not. I’m going to make new friends
myself over at the buffet table,” LaShaun replied with her own
killer smile firmly in place.
“Perfect, dear. You have fun over there.”
Janine’s tone managed to communicate that it might be best if
LaShaun not go with them. A mixed couple might test the facade of
tolerance of the most supposed liberal among her set.
Chase’s dark eyebrows drew together. “I won’t
be gone long.”
“No need to rush on my account.” LaShaun
waved at him.
Chase left with the hostess. Janine chattered
away as they moved through the crowd in the large foyer. LaShaun
gave him another smile of assurance when he glanced back at her
over his shoulder. Once they disappeared, LaShaun took time to
notice the interior of the home. Marble floors the color of rich
cream gleamed beneath a chandelier in the foyer. A curved staircase
led up to the upper floors. On the western facing side of the house
was another arched entrance. The oak frame of the open double doors
had carvings of magnolia blooms. The dining room beyond had been
set up with a long table filled with gold plated trays of food. The
center piece was a large paper mache harlequin figure. It sat in
the center of a king cake.
“I’m glad you convinced Deputy Broussard to
come.”
LaShaun spun around at the sound of the
silken seductive voice so familiar to her. She gazed into the icy
blue eyes of Quentin Trosclair. He held a large champagne flute in
one hand. He laughed and took a long gulp of the golden wine.
“Hello, Quentin. Thanks for the invitation,”
LaShaun said in a distinctly ungrateful tone.