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Authors: Robin Caroll

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BOOK: Bayou Justice
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“Luc, are you listening?”

“Yeah. I just don't understand.”

“Neither do I.” Her throaty sigh over the line tightened the knot holding his stomach hostage. “I wanted you to know what he's up to, and to tell you that I have a meeting with an attorney first thing in the morning.”

Lawyers, already? What exactly had his grandfather done? He ran a hand over his hair. “I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding.”

“I don't know what's gotten into him, but I'm not going to battle him without legal counsel.”

No, CoCo wouldn't back down from any fight. He knew that all too well. Her personality wouldn't let her roll over and play dead.

“So, why are you calling me?”

“I don't really know.” Her voice changed, moving into the confrontational tone he also recognized. “I thought you should be aware. I'm not going to lie down and take your grandfather's bullying. I intend to fight him with everything I can.”

“Curses,
cunjas
and hexes, CoCo?” He could have bitten off his tongue for letting that slip out. The pain was still raw, even after two years of not being together.

She snorted. “Some things never change. I made a mistake in calling you, Luc. You're too much like the old man to see reason.”

Ouch, that stung. “I'm sor—”

“Consider yourself warned. My family will fight you Trahans.”

The disconnecting click cut loud in his ear. He held it a minute longer, not wanting to believe she'd hung up on him. Even when he'd ended their relationship and walked away, he'd never hung up on her.

Lord, why can't I control my tongue?

“Was that CoCo?”

He placed the phone back on his belt clip and stared at his sister. “Yeah.”

She practically bounced in her chair. “What did she want?” Hope of his and CoCo's reconciliation glimmered in her eyes.

He hated to disappoint her, but any hope of that had just gone down like the setting sun. Just as it had when his father had died and he'd realized he couldn't marry CoCo LeBlanc. “To let me know Grandfather served her with an eviction notice.”

Felicia's eyes, already round, grew as large as Confederate coins. “What? When?”

“Just now, apparently.”

She covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, no. What's Grandfather thinking?”

A rumble on the road caused them both to stare down the driveway. Sure enough, their grandfather's Caddy sped along the dirt road.

“I don't know. I'm guessing we're about to find out.”

Grandfather slammed the door of his precious car, ran a hand over his thinning hair and then strode up the stairs. A smile danced on his face, a rare sight. “Luc, Felicia.” He gave them a brief nod, not breaking stride as he headed for the door.

Lord, I don't know what to say. I can't antagonize him, yet I can't help him either without knowing what's going on.

“Grandfather,” Luc began, staring down at the porch. His grandfather's shoes didn't even have a coat of dust covering them. Dirt ran in fear from Beau Trahan.

“Yes?” His grandfather glanced over his shoulder. “What is it, boy?”

“I just got a call from CoCo LeBlanc. Want to tell me what's going on?”

Chuckling, Grandfather let his hand fall from the door handle and then moved to sit on the porch swing. “Little lady already called you, huh? Trying to sweet-talk you into getting me to change my mind, I guess.” He laughed and slapped his thigh. “Hope you told her you weren't buying into her feminine wiles again.”

Luc shifted his weight from one foot to the other, despising himself for feeling like a disobedient teenager. “What're you doing?”

“Demanding what's mine, of course.” His grandfather's eyes set hard in his chiseled face.

“An eviction notice on the LeBlanc's property?” Luc shook his head. “What's up with that?”

“Marcel LeBlanc signed that deed over to me years ago to cover a gambling debt to the casino. I've been really nice, not making them move. Now that I'm retiring, letting you step into my shoes, I have to move out of the penthouse. Since I don't want to make your momma and sister here move out, I'm claiming my property.”

Guilt nudged against Luc's chest, but he picked his battles one at a time. “You can't just evict them, Grandfather. Where will they go? Their family's lived in that house since before the Civil War.”

“Not my problem, son.” His grandfather studied him. “You aren't still sweet on that little swamp witch, are you?”

“I just don't think it's right to evict them.”

His grandfather shook his head as he pushed to his feet. “You're too soft, Luc. You'll have to toughen up to be manager at the casino.”

Luc leaned against the porch rail. Maybe he appeared casual, even though his insides had turned as mushy as quicksand.
Dear God
,
help me make him understand.

Felicia gave a slight tilt of her head. “I need to get inside. It's too hot out here.” She pushed the control on the automatic wheelchair. Luc moved and opened the door for her. She gave him an encouraging smile as she rolled into the house. He let the screen door bang behind her.

His grandfather hit him with a hard glare, his hazel eyes not dimmed by the years. “You got something else to say to me?”

“About being too soft to be casino manager…”

Grandfather let out a loud laugh. “Don't you worry, son. I'll help thicken up your skin.”

He took a deep breath. “It's not that I don't think I can do it. I just don't want the job.”

“What?” His grandfather's eyes bugged bigger than a bullfrog's.

“I don't believe in gambling, Grandfather. You know that. I never said I wanted to follow in your footsteps.” Luc let out a slow breath. “I love being a consultant, and don't want to change jobs.”

His grandfather jumped to his feet. “I'm not believing this. After all my hard work, the years I put in there to get you in position to take over, I can't—”

“I never said I wanted you to do any of that. You just assumed. I'm perfectly content where I am.”

The shout Grandfather emitted made Luc jump. “I don't care what you want. You'll take over at the casino. And that's final.”

Luc drew up to his full six-foot-three, towering a good four inches over his grandfather, and stared into the old man's eyes. “No, I won't. I'm staying as a freelance consultant.”

“You will or else.” Grandfather stood toe-to-toe with him.

“Or else what?”

“Or else I'll not only kick you all out in the street, but I'll publicly disown you. You'll be dead in this town.”

TWO

T
he morning sun split the blue skies, nearly blinding CoCo with its brightness. She cut her gaze through the Jeep's windshield, over to the front door of the law office of Dwayne Williams for about the fortieth time in the past ten minutes. No sign of activity. She checked her watch again—8:01, still too early to show up for her nine o'clock appointment.

“I don't understand why I had to come.” Grandmere hadn't stopped complaining since they left the house. “I told you, I can take care of Beau Trahan.”

God, can I get a little help here?
CoCo clenched the steering wheel and leaned into the blast of air conditioning. As if that could cool the frustration burning in her. “Because we're going to do this legally.”

“My way is legal.”

“No, it isn't,” CoCo said. “I don't want to hear anymore about the traditions of old. Just this once, let me handle things. Okay, Grandmere?”

Her grandmother huffed and rolled her aged eyes but remained silent. She turned her attention out the window.

Hauling in a deep breath, CoCo closed her eyes and rested her forehead against the steering wheel. Fatigue weighed down her very soul, and keeping up the long-standing argument with Grandmere wore her out even more. Sleep had flickered just out of reach last night. And it was all Luc Trahan's fault.

She'd managed to keep the wall she'd erected around her heart intact for two years. Two years! And with one measly phone conversation, it had begun to crumble. CoCo stared into the blazing sun. She wouldn't allow Luc to worm his way back into her heart. Not after he'd left her dangling in the wind the way he had—right after he'd proposed. He'd broken her heart once…she wouldn't let him close enough to crush it for good.

“It's about nine. What're we waiting for?”

CoCo snapped out of her reprieve and glanced over at the door to the law office. The blinds were now opening. “Guess we can go.” She killed the engine and slipped out of the car, rushing around to the passenger side to assist her grandmother.

“I'm not old and decrepit,” Grandmere snapped as she shrugged off CoCo's hand. “Despite what Beau Trahan thinks.”

Ignoring the challenge in her grandmother's tone, she led the way to the lawyer's office. She'd grown tired of arguing with Grandmere over the past two years—to the point she'd avoid any further confrontation if at all possible. Opening the door, she smiled as the blast of frigid air hit her face. Just the walk across the parking lot had made her hot and sticky. She knew her face had to be beet-red, despite her tan.

“Good morning. Ms. LeBlanc?” the perky receptionist sitting behind the front desk asked.

CoCo nodded. “Yes. I have an appointment with Mr. Williams.”

“Yes, ma'am. He's ready for you now.” She stood and walked around the desk. “If you'll follow me, I'll show you to the conference room.”

Their footfalls thumped softly on the deeply padded carpet as they followed the receptionist down the hall. Light paneling shone beneath the overhead track lighting. She swung open a door, revealing a long mahogany table and large windows overlooking the grassy area behind the building.

“Can I get you a cup of coffee or a glass of water?” She waved them into the room while she hovered at the doorway.

“We're fine,
merci.
” CoCo pulled out a plush chair on rollers for her grandmother.

“Mr. Williams will be with you shortly.” The receptionist pulled the door behind her when she left.

Grandmere sat and glanced around the room. “This lawyer looks pricey,
ma chère.
It'd be easier if you'd just let me take care of Beau in my way.”

The door swung open, saving CoCo from having to think of a response. A tall man in a business suit strode inside. His hair, black as the bayou bottom, contrasted against the chocolate color of his skin. “You must be CoCo LeBlanc. I'm Dwayne Williams.”

He gave her a solid handshake. Her spirits soared—Grandpere had always said you could trust a man with a firm grip. “This is my grandmother, Marie LeBlanc.”

Grandmere stood quickly and extended her hand. “Mr. Williams.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. LeBlanc.” He straightened and waved them both to the chairs. “Please, sit.” He moved to the chair across the table from them and sat.

“Now, tell me what Mr. Trahan served you,” Mr. Williams said, steepling his fingers over the legal pad and pen sitting on the glossy table.

Digging the paper out of her purse, CoCo's hands trembled slightly. She set her jaw and slid the eviction notice across the table to him. “This is what he hand-delivered to us yesterday.” Why were her palms sweating? As casually as possible, she wiped her hands on her jeans.

He scanned the paper and then lifted his pen over his legal pad. “Mrs. LeBlanc, is it possible that what Mr. Trahan states is true?” He tapped the pen against the paper. “Could your husband have signed over the deed to your property?”

“Beau Trahan is a lying, two-bit scum. Marcel never signed over any property deed—not willingly. Beau did something underhanded—I just know it. Probably told my Marcel he was signing something totally different.” Grandmere's eyes hardened around the edges.

CoCo patted her grandmother's hand. “Mr. Williams, I—”

“Please, call me Dwayne.”

She smiled. “Dwayne, I've lived with my grandparents for thirteen years, and this business about signing over the deed has never been mentioned before.”

“It's easy enough to check out. If this did happen, there'll be a claim on file down at the courthouse. A matter of public record.”

“So, what do we do?” CoCo held her breath and waited for his reply.

Dwayne sat straight in his chair. “I'll be honest with you. The main reason I took this case was because it involved Beau Trahan. I'm investigating him in an unrelated issue.” He pressed his lips together for a moment, pausing before dropping the pen. “I'm inclined to believe Mrs. LeBlanc.”

“That Mr. Beau had my grandfather sign something he didn't understand?”

“Yes.” He held up a hand. “I'm not accusing Mr. Trahan of anything—not yet—but I can see something like that happening.”

“Isn't that illegal?”

“Yes, it is. However, I'll have to research it more fully. I'll start by going to the courthouse and filing a motion against this eviction notice. At the very least, that should buy us an additional sixty to ninety days.”

“And then what?” How could they prove Beau Trahan pulled such an underhanded scam on her grandfather?

“What we discover will determine how we'll proceed.”

“Mr. Williams,” Grandmere interrupted, “your words are all good, but what's this gonna cost us?”

He smiled, his white teeth flashing in contrast to his smooth, black skin. “If you're interested in me representing you in this matter, how about a one-hundred-dollar retainer and a balance of nine-hundred dollars?”

CoCo grabbed her purse. “That sounds fine. Should I pay that retainer now?” A thousand dollars to make this whole thing go away sounded a lot cheaper than the fee she'd imagined on the drive over.
Thank You for Your provision, Lord.

“You can pay my secretary on your way out.” Dwayne smiled again. “I'll need to get some more information from you before I can proceed.”

Luc ran a caressing touch over his saxophone as he placed it back in its case. Playing the horn always brought him inner peace. Not as much as his daily prayer, but for midafternoon it held its own. Now that he'd finished the big consulting job he'd been working on for the past month, he had two weeks free. Felicia's wheelchair bumped against the sitting-room doorframe. He swiveled to stare at her.

“He didn't mean it.” She maneuvered her chair across the gleaming wood floor.

“I think he did.” He straightened, lifting his sax case.

“He'll calm down. You'll see.”

How he wished he could believe her. “I need to find him, talk to him. Try to make him understand how I feel.”

“Luc, when has he ever cared about what any of us feel?” Big tears welled in her crystal blue eyes, and she ducked her head.

“Hey.” He set the case on the floor and crossed the room to squat before her. “What'd he say to you?” He patted her bare knees.

“Nothing.” She sniffed and wiped away her tears.

“Then why are you crying? Come on,
Boo,
when have you ever not been able to tell me everything?” He crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue, a trick he'd used to cheer her up since they were children.

She let out a small giggle. “I talked to Frank this morning.”

“And?” He waggled his eyebrows.

“It seems Grandfather paid him a little visit yesterday.” She hiccupped. “He told Frank to s-s-stay away from me if he didn't want to end up in f-f-financial ruin.” Fresh tears pooled in her eyes.

Luc let out a low whistle. “He sure was a busy man yesterday.” He held his sister's hands. “What'd Frank say?”

The smile she flashed sparkled and brightened the entire room, even more so than the floor-to-ceiling windows along one wall. “Frank said he told Grandfather that he could drop dead.”

“Good for him.” Frank Thibodeaux seemed to be good for his sister. He'd never seen her look happier.

“Luc, you know how Grandfather is. He'll set out to ruin Frank if I keep seeing him.”

“He can't hold us under his thumb forever.” Luc straightened, staring out the large windows overlooking the bayou. The afternoon sun reflected off the water, casting prisms of light and color across the marshland.

He turned back to stare at his sister. The large room appeared to swallow her small form. The white paint on every wall in the house screamed purity, always reminding him of Felicia. “You just keep seeing Frank if he makes you happy. I'll figure something out.”

“Frank's so mad, it scares me.”

Luc glanced at his sister, laying a hand on her shoulder. “Scares you how?”

“He's so angry over the way Grandfather treats me. He says Grandfather isn't allowing me to get new and inventive treatments that could maybe help me. He says there's a surgery that could let me walk.”

His sister shook her head. “I don't know what to think. All my doctors are ‘Grandfather selected.' I've never questioned it before because he's paid all the medical bills. If what Frank suggests is true…”

Luc ground his teeth. “We can look into it.”

“How? Grandfather controls everything we do, who's in our lives, how we live.”

“And it's going to stop now.”

She stared up at him with such hope and trust in her eyes it almost physically hurt him. “How? What can we do?” She lowered her head. “Maybe Mom's right. We should be grateful for all he does for us.” Her voice cracked on a sob.

“Stop that. It isn't true and you know it.”

“I think Grandfather's threats have pushed Frank into making a decision.”

“What kind of decision?”

Felicia stared back up at him. This time, her smile twinkled in her eyes. “I think he's going to propose soon.”

“That's great,
Boo.
” Happiness filled Luc's chest, but a bitter sting of remorse fell like lead to his gut. At one time, he, too, had been thinking of marriage, had even presented a ring. A life with CoCo. The knife in his heart twisted at the thought of what he'd had…and what he'd thrown away. If only he'd been able to forgive….

“I'm scared if he asks me and I accept, Grandfather will retaliate.”

“That settles it. I'm going to find him and talk reason to him right now.” Luc lifted his case.

Felicia's hand stopped him. “What are you going to do if he won't listen to you?”

“Then I'll think of something else. If I have to, I can move away and get a more permanent job, buy a house for you and Mom. With this last job, my reputation is solid enough now that any accounting agency would be thrilled to hire me on full time.”

“Don't be silly. I know you prefer consulting. If Frank proposes, then you don't have to worry about me. I don't want to be a burden anymore.”

“You're not a burden. You're my sister, and I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Her hand moved to squeeze his. “You shouldn't have to fight my battles as well as your own.”

“It's high time someone stood up to him.”

“And you think that person is you?”

He squeezed her hand back. “Who better?”
With God's guidance.

The purple hue of the setting sun nearly stole CoCo's breath. She jerked her gaze from the window and laced her boots with haste. Only a few minutes of daylight remained, and she still needed to track two of the gators on her list. If she could prove they were multiplying at a less-than-normal rate, she could get more grant money for research from the Wetlands Preservation Center. And if her theory was correct, it could reduce the limits during hunting season. If only the
cooyon
from the State Wildlife and Fisheries would listen to her explanation.

BOOK: Bayou Justice
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