Robin Caroll - Bayou Justice

“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?”

“I was upset, but I didn’t kill him if that’s what you’re implying.” Indignation stiffened her spine.

“I said nothing like that. I’m just trying to figure out what happened.” He pushed open the door and spit off the porch again. “This is a homicide, Ms. LeBlanc. We have to check out everything and everyone.”

“I’m a suspect?” Her palms sweated.

“He was murdered, Ms. LeBlanc.”

“And one of you is responsible,” Luc Trahan announced as he walked up behind the sheriff.

CoCo’s midnight eyes flashed. “I’m sorry for your loss, but you have no right to accuse anyone in my family.”

“Are you sure about that?” He nodded toward her grandmother and little sister, both glaring at him as if he were pond scum.

She followed his gaze, then met his stare. “I’m positive. And you should be, too, Luc.” Her voice softened a beat.

His heart tripped in response. Traitorous little thing, his heart. He’d assumed he’d gotten over CoCo LeBlanc. Apparently not. She still took his breath away.

“Do you have any proof of your allegations, Mr. Trahan?” Sheriff Theriot spoke quietly.

“CoCo called me yesterday after Grandfather served the eviction notice. She was mad, really mad. Said she wouldn’t be bullied by my grandfather.” He never broke eye contact with CoCo.

Her eyes widened. The green streaks around the irises glimmered. “I was mad, yes, but I didn’t threaten him in any way, and you know that.”

“What about them?” He nodded toward her family lurking behind her.

She shook her head, her curly tresses falling over her shoulder like black ink. “An old woman and a young girl?” She guffawed. “Surely you don’t mean to imply they had anything to do with his death?”

“That old woman is a voodoo priestess.” And you, too.

“You don’t believe all that…wait, what did you call it? Mumbo jumbo. All that mumbo jumbo could kill someone?”

The scab ripped off his old wound. “But they do.” She’s still so bitter, God. I pray You’ll touch her heart, soften it, bring her to know and love You.

“Their beliefs didn’t kill your grandfather, Luc.” There she went again, using her soft and sultry voice against him. His heart reacted.

Sheriff Theriot shifted his weight. “We’ll have more information in the morning.” He nodded at CoCo. “I’ll need you to come down to the station first thing.”

“D-do I need to bring my lawyer?”

“Do you need one?” Luc hated the accusation slipping into his words, but couldn’t stop it.

Her eyes were steel as she glared at him. “I think you need to leave, Luc. You’ve already been ordered off my property once today.”

“Since this is legally my grandfather’s land, it’s now mine, wouldn’t you say? ”Why did he continue talking, instigating the situation and riling her up? He didn’t want to hurt her. He’d never wanted to cause her pain. Yet, he had…but it’d hurt him, too.

“You need to leave, cooyon. Now.” Her grandmother took a step toward him.

The sheriff laid a hand on his shoulder, practically pulling him out of the house. “It’s been a long day. Just go home, Luc. Be with your mom and sister. We’ll meet in the morning.”

Finally, logic and reason prevailed. Luc stared into CoCo’s eyes, searching for any sign of malice or deception. He found none—they shined with clarity and honesty. What had he done by accusing her? Again.

“Luc.” The sheriff jerked harder on his shoulder.

“Yeah. Okay.” He strode off the porch, not looking back. He couldn’t bear to see the heartbreak and hurt in her eyes. Once had been enough for that. He didn’t have it in him to say any more.

Sheriff Theriot followed him to his vehicle. “What’s this about you being ordered off the place today?”

“I came by to talk to her about the eviction notice.”

“What about it?”

Luc shrugged. “Just that Grandfather was acting on his own.”

“Didn’t realize you two were talking.” Bubba hitched his single brow.

“We aren’t.” He ran a hand over his hair. “I just thought it was wrong that Grandfather was evicting them.”

“Uh-huh. I see. Just come by the station in the morning. Maybe we’ll have some more information available by then.”

“Thanks, Bubba. I appreciate it.” He got in the car and started it up.

Once on the main road, he slammed the side of his fist against the steering wheel. He’d finally come to terms with his father’s death and how wrong he’d been to partially blame CoCo. Now, Luc had just accused her of shooting his grandfather. What was wrong with him? If they were to line up people with motive to kill Beau, he would be at the head of the line.

Braking to a stop at the end of the road, he pulled air into his lungs in great gulps. He’d wanted out from under Grandfather’s thumb, and he’d gotten his wish. But he’d never wanted the old man killed. If CoCo and her family weren’t the killers, then who?

Wanting to avoid talking to his mother, the drama queen herself, Luc steered in the direction of his great-uncle’s house. Somebody needed to tell Uncle Justin. The enormity of responsibility sat heavily across Luc’s shoulders.

How did one go about telling someone their brother had just been murdered?

Exhaustion weighted each limb, but sleep eluded CoCo. She lay in the four-poster bed, the night sounds of the bayou drifting in through the old plantation’s air-conditioning units. Visions of Beau Trahan’s dead face flickered across her memory. As long as she lived, she’d never forget those lifeless eyes. It brought back the nightmare of two years ago…being called out to the bayou to help capture an alligator who had killed a man. A man who went into the water following a boating accident. A man who happened to be Caleb Trahan, Luc’s father. She’d forever be haunted by the horrors of his death, too.

Flipping onto her stomach, she punched her feather pillow a couple of times. Why did her life have to be so complicated? Every place she turned, death seemed to find her. And it always went back to Luc and his family.

Why, God? Again? I don’t understand. I’m following You. Why won’t You stop this death cloud hovering over me?

She laid in silence waiting for a response. None came. CoCo turned her head and glared at the clock—11:32. She let out a groan and pinched her eyes shut. Luc’s face swam in her mind. With ease she could recall the feel of his arms around her…his gentle hands in her hair…his lips grazing her temple…the promise of forever sealed with a ring. She sniffled and turned onto her back.

Her door creaked open, spilling radiance from the hall night-light. Tara hovered in the doorway. “Are you awake?”

CoCo pushed into a sitting position. Her shoulders pressed against the oak headboard. “Yeah, come on in. What’s wrong?”

Her sister’s steps faltered as she made her way across the hardwood floor to perch on the edge of the bed. “Who do you think shot Mr. Beau?” Her toenails flickered hot pink, a bold contrast to the white comforter.

“I don’t know.” CoCo leaned forward in the semilight to try to study her sister’s face. “Do you have any idea?”

Tara shrugged. “I really don’t know, but it couldn’t have happened to a better person.” She held up her hand. “I know, I know, it’s not nice to say. You have to admit Beau Trahan wasn’t a nice man.”