Only By Moonlight (23 page)

“I didn’t have many options. Don’t lecture me
about how I should have stayed in school. I’ve heard enough of that
already. Anyway, I don’t work for Quentin. I work at one of his
companies. They have an office in Lafayette.” Azalei stuffed bacon
into her mouth and spoke between chews. “I hear you went to his
Mardi Gras party, so why you hanging with him?”

“I went with Chase so he could make
connections for his campaign. If it’s any of your business,”
LaShaun snapped. She pushed her plate aside, appetite blunted by
her cousin’s bad company. “So how is getting on my damn nerves this
early going to help me?”

Azalei patted her mouth with a napkin. “He
came in for a meeting last Thursday in that big fancy conference
room on the seventh floor of the building. I managed to sneak up
there. I think he’s making a move on some of Monmon Odette’s
assets. You better be careful. Back when y’all were... close,
Monmon Odette got prime property. Remember?”

“Yeah,” LaShaun said.

She definitely remembered how she used her
red hot affair with Quentin to her advantage. With his help, Monmon
Odette had acquired land and stock in Trosclair family
corporations. Several of the companies had been sold, making Monmon
Odette a healthy profit. Once again, she cooled her judgment of
Azalei. What kind of role model had she been for her younger
cousins?

“Geological studies have been done on land
right next to it. Seems there could be natural gas or something
they can mine.” Azalei’s eyes glowed with greed.

“They drill for gas, Azalei,” LaShaun
replied, absentmindedly correcting her as she considered her
cousin’s revelations.

“Drill, dig, whatever. It means big money,
but only if we head off Quentin from buying up that land,” Azalei
said eagerly.

“I’m not selling any property, so his plan
won’t work.” LaShaun gazed at her cousin. “You could have sent me
this in an e-mail. Finish up and go to that job you love so
much.”

“If you weren’t family...” Azalei grabbed a
croissant. “Quentin still thinks I want to stab you in the back any
chance I get.”

“Is he far off on that one?” LaShaun
retorted.

“He is as a matter of fact. Now I want to
stab his lying dog ass in the back,” Azalei said with a nasty
smile.

“But you’re still pissed off that I have
Monmon Odette’s money. Giving me this info could mean that I’ll
make more money. Don’t tell me you only want me to get richer.
Please.”

“I deserve a commission or something since I
helped you. Well, it should,” Azalei protested when LaShaun gave a
snort. “Okay, fine. Be that way. Screwing up Quentin’s little plan
will be reward enough.” The stiff expression on Azalei’s face told
a different story. She wanted the money, too.

LaShaun took a sip of coffee and put down the
mug. “Monmon put me in charge of a trust that increases from
certain holdings. Royalties could be shared with family
members.”

Azalei grinned at the prospect. She picked up
the last slice of bacon. “That’s what I’m talking about. Maybe I
can stick it to Quentin and make enough money to quit that job. But
we have to stop him first.”

“I told you, Azalei. I’m not selling any
asset to Quentin. He should have the brains to know that. So once
again, you drove out here for no reason.” LaShaun picked up both
plates.

“I sweet talked him into to telling me one
crucial detail, cousin. Monmon Odette put land in a company name,
not hers. So if he gets control of the company...”

Her meaning slammed home for LaShaun. She
remembered the phone conference with her accountant and Savannah.
“So that’s what he’s up to.”

“I didn’t trust talking on the phone. You
know how the government monitors phone conversations. The
Trosclairs have connections, too.” Azalei stuffed one last bit of
croissant into her mouth. She stood and slung her purse over one
shoulder. “Same for e-mail. The local internet company is one of
their businesses you know.”

“You’ve got some wild imagination going,
Azalei,” LaShaun quipped. “Look, thanks for giving me the tip. I’m
sure between my lawyer and accountant, Quentin won’t be able to
damage Rousselle family assets.”

“Quentin wants to get back at you, LaShaun,”
Azalei said. She nodded slowly, her expression grave. “His lawyer
pals are helping him, the same one trying to get that psycho out of
prison. Quentin wants you broke. Not to mention he hates seeing you
with Chase.”

“He needs to get over it and live his life.”
LaShaun tried to brush off her words, but something in what Azalei
said rang true.

“Quentin wants to hurt you in more ways than
just money. What’s that about?”

LaShaun thought about Miss Rose’s warning.
“You don’t want to know the details. Trust me.”

“If it has anything to do with voodoo,
ghosts, and scary crap like that you’re right. I do not want to
know. Just tell me when to come get my check,” Azalei wisecracked.
She dug in her purse until she found a lipstick tube and compact
mirror. Gazing at her reflection, she swiped her mouth until the
cherry red color covered her lips again.

LaShaun walked toward her with a stony
expression on her face. “Don’t kid yourself that you can escape.
The Rousselle-LeGrange legacy is more than just money. We’re all
touched by spirits. A visit to the historic family cemetery just a
short walk out my back door will prove it to you.”

Azalei froze. She looked around as though
expecting their ancestors to appear. After a few beats, she stuffed
the lipstick and compact into her purse. “I- I gotta go to work.
I’ll call you for news next time.”

“Sure. Better yet, come to dinner one
evening. Chase works late a lot, and I get lonesome way out here at
night,” LaShaun said.

“Yeah, uh, I’ll let you know about that. See
ya.”

Azalei scurried for the nearest exit. Seconds
later the door slapped shut. By the time LaShaun walked onto the
back porch, her cousin was in her car. Azalei turned the mustang
around. Gravel kicked up from the tires when she gunned the engine
to escape. LaShaun laughed hard at the fun of scaring her shady
cousin. Then she grew serious again at the thought of Quentin and
Neal Montgomery.

LaShaun looked at the woods surrounding her
home. “More wheels within wheels.”

Chapter 14

Azalei left at seven o’clock, so LaShaun did
research as she waited for normal business hours. LaShaun had read
through her business files. Her cousin possessed the skills of a
private detective, except her motive was revenge. Yet the facts
backed up her paranoia about Quentin. LaShaun owned a small realty
company managed by an outfit based in Shreveport. The land in
question was owned by her company. Pelican Reality, Inc. had rental
houses and two condo complexes. But included was undeveloped land.
LaShaun remembered having a meeting with the chief of operations to
discuss plans for additional development. Though she was sure
Pelican not only owned the land but the mineral rights, LaShaun
checked anyway. Her company owned the rights as she expected. No
doubt Quentin knew it as well.

By eight o’clock LaShaun decided not to wait.
She left messages on Savannah’s and her accountant’s office voice
mail. By the time they returned her calls, LaShaun had a game plan
mapped out. She instructed them to buy the land from Pelican for
her immediately. That done, LaShaun spent the rest of the day on
mundane tasks. By late afternoon LaShaun came back from errands in
town. A trip to the grocery store and hardware store resulted in a
load of bags in her SUV. Still restless, even after a day of
activity, she decided to do something she hadn’t done for a while.
As it was close to three o’clock, late afternoon sun slanted across
the pasture she crossed. A brisk quarter of a mile walk along a
path of flattened grass brought her to an outbuilding. Her
neighbor, Xavier Marchand, stood outside his bright red barn next
to a small tractor. His wife sat in an off road buggy talking to
him.

“Afternoon,” LaShaun called as she
approached.

“Hi there,” Betty Marchand said before her
husband could reply.

“How you doin’ today, LaShaun.” Mr. Marchand
pulled off work gloves and stuffed them in the back pocket of his
blue jeans.

“I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind me
taking Sunflower out for a little exercise before the sun goes
down. Won’t be gone long.” LaShaun enjoyed riding the calm chestnut
Tennessee walking mare. In return, LaShaun paid for bales of hay to
feed Sunflower.

“No problem. My boy just finished grooming
her matter of fact,” Mr. Marchand said referring to Xavier, Jr. and
headed into the shadowed barn interior.

“Great.” LaShaun smiled at him.

Mrs. Marchand studied LaShaun. “Why don’t you
buy yourself a horse? We’ll stable it for you, no problem. Life
gets mighty complicated sometimes. Riding is a good way to settle
your mind and work out problems.”

LaShaun ignored her attempt to probe. “I’m
thinking about it, but I’m not sure I’d get much time to ride.
Didn’t this day turn out beautiful?”

“Yep, warmed up real nice. Should be even
prettier in time for your wedding. How’s the planning going?” Mrs.
Marchand’s eyebrows went up.

“Fine, but it’s not that big a deal. We have
the flowers and food nailed down. Since we’re getting married
outside, decorating is easy.” LaShaun smiled at her.

“I hear the Broussard land out there is
beautiful. Lots of history,” Mrs. Marchand went on. “His mama
probably told you about it.”

“I know about the famous oak tree planted
over two hundred years ago, yes ma’am.” LaShaun almost laughed when
Betty Marchand blinked rapidly at her.

Disappointment creased Mrs. Marchand’s brow,
but she gamely tried again. “I’ll bet you’re having a good time
with his mama. She’s helping you pick out your dress and the
bridesmaids dresses, huh?”

“I’m wearing a lace gown my grandmother wore
when she married my grandfather. The sleeves are handmade of
Alencon lace from New Orleans... A lot of family history is
attached to it from what I understand,” LaShaun said in a dramatic
tone, intentionally feeding into Betty Marchand’s fertile
imagination.

“Really?” Mrs. Marchand’s eyes went wide.

“Here we go, LaShaun. Hope Betty didn’t bend
your ear too much.” Mr. Marchand cast a knowing glance at his
wife.

“We were just chatting is all,” Mrs. Marchand
replied, a bit on the defensive.

“Uh-huh.” Mr. Marchand let his tone
communicate how much he believed her protest. “Now you have a good
time with Sunflower. Be careful to get back before dark though. We
don’t wanna have to send a search party in them woods at
night.”

“I’ll be fine, Mr. M. The moonlight will lead
us. Isn’t that right girl?” LaShaun gave the horse a pat of
affection on her flanks.

“Yes, I’m sure being in the woods at night
isn’t scary for her at all,” Mrs. Marchand mumbled aside to her
husband.

“Shush,” Mr. Marchand hissed at her.

“No, ma’am, Sunflower is the brave one.
Aren’t you sweetie?” LaShaun said as she smoothed a hand on the
horse’s long head.

“I, uh...” Mrs. Marchand stuttered. She
glanced at her husband who crossed his arms. His expression clearly
said, “Serves you right!”

LaShaun mounted Sunflower. The soft leather
of the saddle felt good. She waved to the couple and set off at a
leisurely trot. “I’m going to stop neglecting you my friend.”

For the next thirty minutes, LaShaun let
herself get lost in the pleasure of riding. Sunflower seemed to be
enjoying the ride as well. They followed a well worn riding path
through prairies and around the occasional oak tree. After a time,
LaShaun circled back toward her property. She reached the outer
limits of her property line. A movement to her left caught
LaShaun’s attention. Long shadows fell. Almost four o’clock,
evening still came fairly early. Still LaShaun estimated she had
another twenty minutes before dark. As if to back up her words to
Mrs. Marchand, the moon shimmered in the early evening sky. LaShaun
softly pressed her right knee against Sunflower and tugged on the
reins. Sunflower turned west smoothly as though she and LaShaun
were of the same will.

Following the movement she was sure she’d
seen, LaShaun guided Sunflower into a sparsely wooded area. Tall
pine carpeted the ground with soft needles. The scent seemed to
please Sunflower. After another few yards, they came to woods with
trees closer together. Massive oak trees that had to be well over a
hundred years old stood as if they were the elder statesmen of
outdoors. Just as LaShaun had decided she’d seen a fox or a rabbit,
a distinctly human like form separated from a large tree trunk and
darted into the brush.

“Now that can’t be somebody running around in
the palmettos and palms, can it Sunflower?”

LaShaun smiled when the horse gave a spirited
snort as though agreeing with her. The sharp, spiny leaves of the
palmettos alone would discourage romping around. Yet there it was
again, someone moving through the brush. With a soft reassurance
that she wouldn’t be long, LaShaun looped the reins around a small
tree branch. Sunflower gave a shake of her head, which LaShaun
interpreted as “Take your time”. The horse nipped at blades of
grass as LaShaun walked around the low bushes. There were signs
that something heavier than a rabbit had crossed the ground. In
just a few steps, LaShaun had left behind the relative light of
late afternoon and entered the dusky world of a Louisiana forest.
Someone or something circled behind her once she got deeper into a
thickly wooded area. After few seconds LaShaun heard a low growl
and her heart rate jumped. Suddenly her surroundings seemed
foreboding. She could only see tiny patches of dark blue evening
sky through tree branches overhead.