The Red-Hot Cajun (32 page)

“So what then? A long-distance affair?”

“No. I’m too old for that crap. Can we talk about this, in person?”
Oh, shit! Now, I’m thinking of
marriage.

What the hell’s wrong with me? I want marriage; she wants sex on the hoof.

“What’s there to say, Rene?”

A lot!
“I could say why I was calling you tonight, but I guess it’s too late for that now.”
Don’t say it,
Rene. Do not say it now.

“What?” she snapped. “You may as well tell me anyhow.”

Oh, go ahead,
the voice in his head urged.

“I love you,” he said, and hung up.

He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he
—Val stared at the dead phone in her hand.

Did Rene just say what she thought he said?
It couldn’t be. Could it?

And did he hang up on her?
No, he wouldn’t do something so immature. Would he?

She pressed speed dial. He answered on the first ring. Before she could say hello, he blurted out, “Forget I said that. It was a slip of the tongue.”

“Oh, no, no, no. Those are words that cannot be taken back once they leave your lips. Tell me again.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“I love you. God help me, I love you.”

There was a long silence.

“Val, if you don’t say something soon, I am going to crawl through these phone lines and wring your neck.”

“I love you, too,” she said in a voice hardly above a whisper.

“Are you crying? Dammit! Don’t you dare cry.”

Then she hung up on him. Really, what more could she say?

He loved her, she loved him, but they could not be together.

She cried in earnest then.

Tears on her pillow

“Now I’m mad,” Rene said the second Val picked up the phone.

“Why?” She sniffled.

Icannot stand to see a woman cry. I was only a little k id, but I still remember my dad making my
mother cry. I do not want to become my father.
“Because you pulled the typical girl trick. Cry and you can get whatever you want.”
You are a piece of work , LeDeux.

“That was not a trick. It was real,” she sobbed.

Iknow.
“Well, then, I’m sorry if I made you cry.”

“You should be. It’s your fault. You made me fall in love with you, and now you’re going to dump me.”

Iapologized, but I am not going to let you run all over me.
“Uh-uh. I am not doing the dumping.

You are dumping me.”

“No way!”

“Okay,” he said, exhaling with disgust, mostly at himself. “So we aren’t dumping each other. What
are
we doing?”

“Talking.”

“Are we getting anywhere?”
Because it sure feels like we’re stuck in idle.

“No. I think we need to talk in person.”

Hallelujah!
“That’s what I said from the beginning. But I can’t come there right now. I just can’t.”

“You’re worried about your aunt?”

“Yeah, I am. Come here, Val. Please.”

There was a long pause. “I do want to meet with my mother. We have things to resolve.”

“About your father?” She’d told him about the news her aunts had imparted to her. Sounded like her mother had a lot of answering to do.

“Yes. And I need to know whether she had anything to do with the bombing or the fire.”

“When?”
How about tonight?

“Next week.”

“I can’t wait.”
And I mean that just like you think I do.

“Me neither.”

“I love you, babe.”

“I love you, too, Rene”. Are we going to be able to work this out?”

My gut says no, but my heart says yes.
That infernal voice in his head advised,
Go with your heart.

What he said was, “I don’t know. I honestly don’t.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Shot through the heart

“Valerie! I didn’t know you were back in Houma.”

Simone stood and came around from behind her desk in the plush office of Breaux Real Estate. Her mother was wearing a pearl-gray silk shirtwaist dress and even lighter gray pumps. There were pearls at her ears and at her neck. Her dark hair was impeccably groomed. The epitome of successful businesswoman.

“I came here from the airport. My luggage is in the outer office.”

“Shall I have it sent to the house?” She was about to reach for the phone.

Valerie shook her head. “No. I’m not sure how long I’ll be in town, and I’m staying at a hotel tonight.”

“How does that look, that you don’t stay in your own home?” She glared at Valerie in a way that in the past would have made her cower. No more!

“I really don’t care about appearances at this point. And, frankly, it hasn’t seemed like home to me for a long time.”
If ever.
She sank down into a chair in front of the desk and set her purse and a folder on the floor.

Her mother was about to say something more, probably something cutting, but then seemed to think better of it. She went back to her chair behind the desk. “Why are you here, Valerie?”

“I came primarily to see you.”

Her mother arched her perfect, dyed eyebrows. “You’ve done enough harm by barreling ahead with that... that propaganda piece. What next? A
National Enquirer
expose?”

Valerie ignored the venom in her mother’s voice. “There are two reasons I want to talk with you. Did you have anything to do with the boat bomb or the fire at Rene’s cabin?”

“No,” she said without hesitation, “but I must say that I think both were well-deserved.”

Valerie gasped at her mother’s insensitivity. “How can you say that? Someone could have been hurt or killed. I, your own daughter, could have been on board that boat.”

Her mother dismissed that possibility with an airy wave of her hand. “It was no accident that the boat was empty when the dynamite was set off.” She paused, then to avoid culpability added, “In my opinion, anyway.”

“You know who did it, don’t you?”

She shrugged. “I have my suspicions.”

“Have you told the police?”

“Of course not. Why would I do that?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do?”

“It depends on what your definition of what right is, doesn’t it?”

“How about the telephone calls and Rene’s mortgage being called in? Did you have anything to do with those?”

Her mother just smiled smugly.

Valerie shook her head at the hopelessness of trying to reach her mother. “There are things I know about you... and our family. If you do one more thing, just one, you are going to read about yourself in the local newspapers.”

Her mother’s face reddened with anger. “Are you threatening me?”

“Damn right I am.” She picked up the folder from the floor and held it up for demonstration. “There’s stuff in these folders that would blow the lid off this town.”

“You are an evil child.”

“Think so? How do you think your colleagues would treat you if they knew you used to lock your child in a closet, repeatedly? What do you think the press would do if I led them to some files that show exactly how you got permits for Bayou Paradise? I wonder how Aunt Inez’s career as a congresswoman would go if it came out that Grandmother Dixie filtered oil money into her campaign coffers? And that’s just for a start.”

“Get out,” her mother said in a level voice. She never shouted so this was the equivalent of her shouting.

“Not until I finish. Do you promise there will be no more dirty tricks?”

Her mother looked as if she’d like to spit on her, but finally she nodded. “Now go, and I don’t care if you ever come back.”

“Not yet. There’s one other thing. It’s about my father.”

Her mother rolled her eyes. “That bastard!”

“All my life you told me that Daddy didn’t want me... that when he left, he was leaving both of us.”

“So?”

“I learned recently that my father waged a custody battle for me.”

“It was just to get back at me. He didn’t really want you.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me that he wanted custody, even partial custody?”

“Why should I have? He was a weak man. He backed down the minute I threatened to fight the divorce. That’s how much he wanted you.”

Valerie winced at what was probably the truth. “Has he ever tried to make contact with me over the years?”

Her mother studied her fingernails and did not answer.

“Did he ever come back to Houma?”

“Several times when you were little,” she admitted.

“And?”

“It wasn’t convenient for me to arrange any visits. Besides, it would have just set you to whining again for your father once he left. Separations are best when the cut is final.”

Best for whom?
“Telephone calls? Letters? Anything?”

The pink tinge of her mother’s pale cheeks told her plenty. “The letters were returned to sender. They would have only upset you. It was best that your father thought you didn’t want any contact with him.”

Best for whom?
Tears welled in her eyes at the tragedy of it all. “You said most. What do you still have?”

“The lawyer insisted that I save the letter your father wrote at the time of the divorce and that I should give it to you at age eighteen or whenever you asked.”

Hey, Mom., yoo-hoo! I’ve been over eighteen for a long time now.
“Where is it now?” She could barely restrain herself from leaping over the desk and slapping her own mother.

Simone regarded her with disdain, then walked over to a filing cabinet where she removed a thick envelope. She tossed it in Valerie’s lap and went back to her chair.

Valerie just stared at it as tears streamed down her face. Finally, she stood and tucked the envelope in her folder and picked up her purse. “Did you hate him that much, Mother?”

“More than you can know. He rejected me. No one does that.”

“Really? Guess what? I’m rejecting you now.”

With those words she left and did not look back.

It was an ending of sorts, but a good ending.

Rene to the rescue

There she was.

Rene was parked along the street, waiting for Val to come out of the real estate office. When she hadn’t called him to pick her up at the airport, he’d figured out where she would have gone. To confront her mother.

And by the looks of her, tears streaming down her face, it was not a good meeting. He got out of his Jeep and went around to the sidewalk, picking up her luggage. “Get in, honey.”

Her head jerked up. She was surprised to see him. “Thank God you’re here.”

“Where else did you think I’d be?”

“I never cry,” she blubbered, taking a tissue out of her purse and wiping her face.

Right! That’s just sweat running down your cheek s.

“My mother is a bitch.”

You took the words right out of my mouth.
“What’s that?” he asked as he maneuvered the vehicle out into traffic and headed out toward Bayou Black. She had just taken a sealed envelope out of a folder on her lap.

“A letter to me from my father. It was written at the time of the divorce.”

Uh-oh. I predict more tears.

She read it aloud:

Dear Valerie:

I’mgoing away for a while, sweetie, but I will come back to see you whenever I can. You are the
light of my life, always have been, always will be.

When I think of you
—
and I will think of you every day of my life
—I
will remember the day you
were born, how precious you were. The first time I held you, you looked up at me, and I swear to
God you smiled. Your first steps were into my arms. Your first word was “Papa.” I loved reading you
book s and teaching you to read. You danced on my shoes when I played music. Remember the times
we went fishing on the bayou.