LaShaun wondered what he was doing here, and what Sheriff Triche would say if he knew. Lance Broussard wanted something from her, and she could not afford to assume it meant anything good. Still his dark Cajun eyes gazed at her with concern despite her prickly greeting.
“How you holdin’ up?” Deputy Broussard started to step closer then changed his mind. Instead he cleared his throat and looked away.
“Compared to what?” LaShaun asked. She closed her eyes and rubbed them. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be cracking on you. Unless you’re here to arrest me that is. If that’s the case then scratch that apology, Deputy Broussard.”
“No, I’m here to help you,” Lance said quietly.
LaShaun looked up at him. She studied him for a few seconds. “That’s gotta be a joke.”
“I don’t believe you killed your cousin. No motive,” he replied.
“Money. In case you haven’t heard my grandmother used her magic to amass a fortune. Dark forces to build an empire. Rumor has it I’d kill to get it all.” LaShaun raised an eyebrow at him.
“First time I’ve heard a potential suspect try convince me she’s guilty.”
“I’m not trying to convince you. I’m just trying to head off the inevitable. First you believe me, and then you hear more and accuse me of murder. I’m short on time so I’m skipping that particular dance.” LaShaun flipped a hand him. “So get back on your white horse and ride into the sunset. I don’t need you to rescue me.”
“I know you don’t. But listen to me. Some people around here would like to see you in prison even if you didn’t kill Rita. They’d call it roundabout justice. Stupid,” Lance said with a scowl.
“Deputy Gautreaux sees a chance to get elected, using me you mean.” LaShaun gave a short bitter laugh. “I’m used to that kind of crap. Don’t waste your time worrying about me.”
“I’ll decide on how to use my time, thank you,” Lance replied. He walked over to her after a second bout of hesitation. He looked down at her. “I’m not here to play hero. But I will help you like it or not.”
Caught off guard she backed up. She needed room to think clearly. Some force from this tall, dark and sexy Cajun had almost overwhelmed her good common sense. Wanting to be protected by a man, wanting him to hold her, wanting to surrender for the first time scared her.
“Well, Deputy Broussard— ”
“Call me Lance, at least when we’re alone,” he replied calmly.
She briefly considered asking him why he assumed they would be alone again. Still thrown off balance, all LaShaun could manage was to nod. LaShaun avoided his smoldering gaze. “I hope you bring more than good intentions. Some information pointing to the real killer would help a whole lot right about now.”
Lance seemed to sense she needed space, so he stuck to business. “Rita talked to your grandmother’s lawyer about making you the only executor of the estate.”
LaShaun looked at him sharply. “How would you know that?”
“She told her mama about it. She didn’t trust your cousin Azalei, or Quentin Trosclair. Maybe she found out about them.” Lance waited for LaShaun to consider his discovery. “Rita’s mama wanted me to know. I helped out a kid in her church who got into serious trouble once. So guess that’s why she came to me.”
“I see. So you’re thinking my cousin Azalei might have killed Rita?” LaShaun shook her head. “Much as I’d like to see her in handcuffs, I have to say that’s a long shot. Azalei is skilled at scheming and pulling dirty tricks for sure. But physical violence just isn’t her style.”
“We’re talking about a lot of money,” Lance reminded her. “For an estate worth up to six million folks might do just about anything.”
The stench of violent death caused by evil snaked around her. Somehow LaShaun knew Rita’s death was connected to her. More than anything LaShaun wanted to believe he was right. Otherwise she’d carry the burden of another death on her shoulders. The weight of one such death had been almost too much for her. What’s more Lance was right. Azalei would use others to do dirty work. But would she resort to murder? Lance seemed to read her thoughts.
“Your family has been talking about how unfair your grandmother has been. A lot of bad feelings. Maybe she wasn’t in this alone.”
Before she could answer a small white moth fluttered in the air between them. LaShaun watched it float toward her as if the world had slowed down. She held out her hand, palm up. The moth settled in her hand for ten seconds then rose again. It flew south and vanished into the woods. South, toward the hospital. LaShaun gasped then spun away from Lance.
“I have to see Momon Odette. Now.”
“What? Wait a minute. I can get you there faster. Lock up the house and meet me out front.” Lance strode off quickly, not waiting for her to protest.
Moments later LaShaun stood in the driveway. Lance pulled his cruiser up. The passenger door was already open. She got in. He pointed to the seatbelt and she put it on. As he flipped a switch turning on the lights LaShaun watched him. He called the dispatcher giving him a code then explaining where he was going.
“You’re going to get in some serious trouble,” LaShaun said when he signed off. “You should have put me in the back seat. At least that way folks will think you arrested me.”
“Why should I care what they think? I’ve helped other citizens get to the hospital fast when it was critical.”
“Okay, just don’t come cryin’ to me about your reputation,” LaShaun replied.
“Tell me about this moth,” he said.
“Choctaw legend says the moth is a sign of change or death, especially a white moth. Moths are also believed to be messengers.” LaShaun glanced at him sideways. He maneuvered through a traffic light as cars pulled aside to let them through.
“I’m listening. Used to doin’ five things at once,” Lance said, his gaze never leaving the road ahead of them.
“Since I was a kid whenever a moth flew to me I knew my grandmother either wanted to talk to me or some change was coming.” LaShaun fingered the keys in her had. “This time both I think.”
“Your Monmon is a strong-willed woman from what I hear.”
“Thanks.” LaShaun gazed at his strong arms as he turned the steering wheel. He had the tanned look of a man who liked outdoor sports. And this was no time to notice how good he looked, or that his words were meant to comfort her. Mentally she raised an invisible shield between them.
Ten minutes later Lance pulled up to the hospital entrance. “I’ll be in once I move to he spot for official vehicles.”
“I appreciate what you’ve done, but you better not. Let’s not complicate this situation, and I don’t have time to argue. Just go.” LaShaun got out and shut the door on his protest.
She raced to the elevator just as the doors were about to close. She stepped in, startling two nurses. LaShaun didn’t know them, but from the way they glanced at each other they knew her. A. When the elevator stopped on the top floor of the small country hospital. LaShaun walked quickly to the critical care unit.
“I’m here to see my grandmother,” LaShaun said, but didn’t stop at the nurse’s station.
A young nurse with blonde hair held a phone to her ear. She gaped at her. “Uh, we were just about to call you. Your grandmother— ” “
“Wants to see me. Thanks,” LaShaun said over her shoulder and kept moving.
She went to the door of her grandmother’s room. With one slight push it swished open silently. As she approached the bed LaShaun gasped. Her grandmother seemed frail physically, but her eyes were bright, as though some inner light gleamed inside her.
“Ah, there you be,” she rasped. Then she whispered in Creole French so low LaShaun barely heard her. “Come here, ma petite.”
“Momon, I don’t want to hear talk of dying.” LaShaun let the tears flow without wiping them away. “I won’t listen.”
“But you must. Death is a friend. He comes to end this pain, to give me rest from weariness.” Momon Odette sighed. She closed her eyes for a few moments then opened them again. “No time to argue with my stubborn girl. This is the will of Le Bon Dieu.” (The Good Lord)
“But— ”
“We talked about this day,” Momon Odette reminded her.
“Yes, ma’am.” LaShaun grabbed tissues from a box on the table near her bed. She looked at the instrument panels monitoring her grandmother’s vital signs. The readings seemed normal, but LaShaun knew this would change soon.
“You must be strong.” Momon Odette gazed at her with tenderness.
LaShaun wiped away her tears then sat down in the chair beside the bed. “Yes, Momon.”
“This old lady tried to raise you right. Shouldn’t have let my bitterness poison your soul though.” Momon Odette stopped to rest. She closed her eyes.
“You mean about Mr. Antoine and Savannah. It’s okay. I don’t hate them now.” LaShaun leaned forward and touched her grandmother’s hand. She winced at the coldness she felt.
“Ah, must leave it now,” Momon Odette murmured more to herself than LaShaun. Then she opened her eyes. “The loa, in the woods. He’s yours. You must not try to control it. But you can stop him by stopping his deeds. Thought I was helping when I conjured him up for you all those years ago.”
“You created him?” LaShaun gripped Momon Odette’s hand.
“Summoned. Should have known better. He is dangerous, love taken too far becomes like hate. Loas can’t be controlled like pet puppies, have their own will. Foolish Odette to set loose such a creature.”
“Shh, don’t carry on so. You shouldn’t get upset.” LaShaun watched the monitors anxiously. The heart rate monitor beeped faster.
“Ti Jean Petro. Give him offering, altar. Grass. Then summon Brise; he will protect you. Must stop them.” Momon Odette labored to keep breathing. She clutched LaShaun’s hand with surprising strength. “You will, you must.”
“Yes, sweet mother.” LaShaun kissed her grandmother's thin hand.
She sat quietly, praying as her grandmother slipped away. LaShaun continued to hold Momon Odette’s hand, even when her grandmother’s grip went slack. As if from a distance she heard the door swing open, the voices of nurses calling out orders, the deeper voice of a male doctor taking over and finally strong hands lifting her out of the chair. Lance led LaShaun into the hallway. Still she only heard sounds as though her ears were stuffed with cotton. How much time passed? LaShaun glanced around her minutes later. She looked own and realized Lance Broussard was holding both her hands between his. As though waking up from a dream LaShaun pulled free and stood.
“I’ll make the arrangements for Momon’s funeral.” LaShaun felt a kind of numb calm.
“Give yourself time. You’ve had a shock. The hospital can hold her body twenty-four hours, maybe longer. That will give you time to rest before you jump right into— ”
“Best to settle things quickly. First I’ll call the family, then go to Rhodes Funeral Home in the morning.” LaShaun sighed. “I left my cell phone in my purse at the house.”
“Here.” Lance handed her his sleek mobile.
For the next two hours LaShaun went about the business of death. She let Lance take her home, too dazed to consider what others would say seeing them together. She talked to her aunt and both uncles, numerous cousins and two of Momon Odette’s surviving siblings. The funeral director at Rhodes expressed his condolences and gave her an appointment for the following morning. LaShaun went to the beautiful antique armoire in Momon Odette’s bedroom. In a secret drawer she found her grandmother’s wishes, written in Momon Odette’s fluid handwriting. Her grandmother had planned her services twenty years before. LaShaun could almost hear her voice saying, “I don’t want my silly children making up my home going program. No tellin’ what kind of nonsense they’ll put down.”
Despite the hollow sensation of loss LaShaun smiled at the memory. Then she spend time simply looking through her grandmother’s clothes, jewelry and cosmetics. The scent of lavender sachet pillows tucked into drawers soothed LaShaun’s aching heart.
“I gotta go, LaShaun. But you call me if you need anything. Don’t worry about what time it is. Okay?” Lance stood in the door as though not wanting to intrude.
His voice made her start. LaShaun had been sitting at the vanity table. Now she stood to face him. She gazed at him. He did not seem ready to leave despite his words. “I didn’t even realize you were still here, Deputy Broussard. Yes, you better go. For a lot of reasons. But I thank you sincerely for everything you’ve done today. I won’t forget.”
“I’ll wait to hear from you. Now come lock the door. I took the liberty of making you something to eat. It’s on the counter,” Lance said as he followed her to the front door.
“You best not come around here again, Lance. As it is you’re gonna have problems.” LaShaun put a hand on his arm. “I’m used to being alone and taking care of myself. Okay?”
“I know you can handle your business. But you don’t have to be alone.” Lance leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her lips. He drew back after lingering for only a moment.
LaShaun struggled against the magnetic force tugging her to take more of him. “Yes, I do. Especially where you’re concerned. Besides, your woman will be leading the mob to burn this witch.”
He smiled and shook his head. “I’m not tied to any other woman. Call me.”
He opened the door and strode out without waiting for an answer. LaShaun watched him get into his cruiser then drive away, the sunglasses he put on making him look like a strong handsome hero from a Hollywood movie. LaShaun shook her head slowly.
“Oh Momon. If only you were here to talk some sense into me,” LaShaun murmured as she watched until the cruiser disappeared, knowing she would call him indeed.
Episode 15
