Between Dusk and Dawn (7 page)

“
You’re a deputy. Lawmen
have emergencies, and they’re subject to be called in at any time.
Common sense deduction, babe.” LaShaun decided not to mention the
rest of what she knew.

He smiled as he leaned closer. “I keep
forgetting you’re as smart a detective as Miss Marple, and a
helluva lot sexier.”

“
I’m guessing I won’t get
to show you just how sexy a sleuth I can be tonight?” LaShaun made
a soft kissing sound.

“
Rain check,” Chase said
and winked at her.

The waiter returned and Chase sat back
in his chair. He scowled when LaShaun insisted it was her turn to
pay, but gave in. They put the remains of their dinner in the
containers and left. On the ride back, Chase seemed distracted. He
turned on the radio and tried to make small talk, but lapsed into
long silences.

“
Anything you can tell me?
I won’t gossip,” LaShaun quipped.

He put a hand on her thigh and smiled
at her. “I didn’t want to spoil the last few minutes we have of our
weekend.”

“
Last few minutes, huh?
Must be bad.”

LaShaun put her hand on his. There was
danger, but LaShaun couldn’t see if the threat was to Chase. When
she noticed he wasn’t wearing the necklace she’d given him, LaShaun
started to ask. Then she saw the pendant hanging from a leather
braided strap holding his keys. She sighed with relief. The
sterling silver wolf’s head set in onyx with a lapis lazuli stone
beneath it had been given to her by her grandmother. Monmon Odette
said the wolf was a symbol of power, and the onyx provided
protection. Their Choctaw ancestors had handed down this wisdom.
LaShaun touched the silver as she said a prayer of protection for
him.

“
Bad enough. We identified
the dead woman. She disappeared from Baton Rouge about three years
ago. She had a history of drug use and running off with men.” Chase
watched traffic as they turned onto Highway 14 and back into
Vermillion Parish.

“
Sad, but common. Her
family got in touch when they saw her picture, huh?” LaShaun
remembered in time to make that a question. She already knew the
answer.

“
Yes, and you’re not
fooling me.” Chase squeezed her thigh then put his hand back on the
steering wheel.

“
Okay, so maybe I sense a
few things. But don’t forget I know just like everyone else that
y’all spread that drawing far and wide.” LaShaun sometimes wished
she didn’t see things ahead.

“
Your gift doesn’t bother
me, honey,” Chase said and smiled at her reassuringly.

LaShaun moved closer to him until
their hips touched. “I sense that call had to do with the dead
woman.”

He nodded and his jaw set into his “on
duty” look. “It sure does.”

“
What?”

“
She’s a member of a rich
old Baton Rouge family. The kind of people that have a lot of money
passed down from three generations back. These folks don’t want to
be in the news, not even the fancy society pages,” Chase
said.

“
Okay, but... oh-oh.”
LaShaun let out a low whistle.

“
Exactly. The media is
swarming because someone has been spreading rumors about a
supernatural serial killer.” Chase glanced sideways at her then
back at the road ahead.

“
Well don’t look at me.
I’ve been with you.” LaShaun poked his big bicep.

“
What about your two
buddies, Miss Clo and her sidekick?” Chase turned down the tiny
highway that was a back route connecting to Rougon Road that would
take them to Rousselle Lane eventually.

LaShaun shook her head. “No way.
Joyelle had to be convinced to come see me, and she could barely
talk about Manny Young. Miss Clo wouldn’t gossip. She’s worried
about the backlash against her friend.”

“
Well somebody has been
talking. I’ll get the details when I meet M.J. at the station,”
Chase said.

“
But why do they need you
back? You’ve been working so hard,” LaShaun protested. “They’ve got
that other ambitious detective, Dave Gouchaux. “

“
Yep, he’s sharp. But M.J.
wants me there, too. Dave can be a little too take charge
sometimes,” Chase said.

“
I’ve seen him talk down to
M.J.” LaShaun gave a snort. “She’s got more patience than me. I’d
put that snot in his place quick. She’s in charge, and you’re going
to be elected Sheriff.”

“
There’s a little thing
called an election, honey. Besides, M.J. can handle herself. She’ll
know when the time is right to check Dave.” Chase smiled. “M.J.
might decide to run for Sheriff. It’s not too late for her to fill
out the papers.”

“
Oh, no. I don’t want to
choose, but of course I’d vote for you,” LaShaun added quickly when
he glanced at her. “I would!”

“
Don’t pretend that M.J.
wouldn’t make a fine Sheriff, and you like her a lot.” Chase
chuckled when LaShaun slapped his arm.

“
I’m solidly in
your
corner, Deputy
Broussard. Stop teasing. Besides, I happen to have it on good
authority that M.J. doesn’t want to run for Sheriff. She hates
politics even more than you do. She told me being Sheriff is
seventy percent dealing with asshole public officials.” LaShaun
laughed at the memory of the sour look on M.J.’s face when she said
it.

“
Gee, thanks for giving me
something to shoot for. I really want the job now,” Chase
quipped.

“
You’ll do fine dealing
with the people and police side of it,” LaShaun said with
certainty. “I just want you to be safe doing both.”

“
I’ll be fine,” he said.
“If I even get elected remember.”

“
The folks in Vermillion
Parish with any sense will run to the polls and press that button
next to your name.” LaShaun smiled at him, but it faded as they got
closer to Beau Chene. The vibrations of trouble came to her in
waves.

Fifteen minutes later they arrived at
LaShaun’s house. The outside security light at the end of her
driveway and the one in her backyard had come on at dusk. It was
only four thirty in the afternoon and already it was growing dark
fast. LaShaun got out of Chase’s truck and walked around to the
driver’s side. She leaned in the open window and kissed his mouth
hard.

“
You owe me, Deputy
Broussard.”

“
I always pay my debts,
ma’am.”

Chase claimed his own gentle kiss. He
waited until LaShaun opened her front door and started to go in.
She turned back and came out on the porch again.

“
Hey you! Call me,” LaShaun
yelled after him as he turned around and drove away. He blew his
horn in reply.

She watched the red glow from his
truck taillights vanish as he turned the corner of her driveway and
onto the road. LaShaun sighed. Even their shortened weekend had
been wonderful. She breathed in the crisp night air. A huge October
full moon glowed like a giant firefly in the night sky. Chase would
admonish her about lingering outside at night, but the darkness and
shadows once the sun disappeared had never frightened LaShaun.
Leaning against the porch railing that ran the length of it, she
gazed up at the sky. Her ancestors had been able to see a ceiling
of stars. Even living far from a large city, it was hard to get the
same view in these modern days. She looked at the lovely way
shadows laced the woods in folds, a soft velvet midnight blue and
black like a woman’s cape. Suddenly a movement in her peripheral
vision caused LaShaun to go still. Her senses kicked in. She
calculated how fast she could get inside, slam the door and lock
it. Plenty of time, she thought calmly. Even if this being, human
or not, made it to her she could crash the carved oak rocker in
that direction, and move quickly.

“
Evenin’, ma’am,” the voice
rumbled like a heavy rock rolling across the ground toward her. “I
need to talk to you ‘bout my boy.”

Her breathing slowed down as LaShaun
turned to face the figure standing on the edge of her driveway. He
seemed to have come from a break between a huge swamp cottonwood
tree and an oak, both planted over a hundred years ago. Was this
another spirit stirred up by her ancestors in these woods? Her
grandmother had taught her to fight back. She fingered the silver
cross that hung from a chain around her neck.

“
Who are you?” she asked,
trying to project a fear she didn’t feel.

Demons grew bold and proudly gave
their names when humans cowered. Having his name would give LaShaun
some power to strike out. The being didn’t move. Waves of
hopelessness buffeted her. She faced a man, not a
specter.

“
Step into the light,
please,” LaShaun said.

The man walked slowly across the
driveway making gravel crunch beneath his shoes. He moved into the
glare of the security lamp overhead. “I hope you don’t mind me
comin’ out here unannounced. I thought maybe you’d find it harder
to say no if I didn’t call first.”

“
You still haven’t told me
your name, and why you’re hiding. “ LaShaun stood ready to either
fight like a wildcat, or rush inside for her single barrel shotgun
in the hall closet.

Headlights lit up the tree trunks
suddenly as an all terrain vehicle rumbled through the brush east
of LaShaun’s property. The dark green camouflage buggy stopped, but
the engine grumbled. “Hey neighbor, you all right?”

“
Hi Mr. Marchand. I’m
fine,” LaShaun called back to her neighbor.

“
I seen a truck head this
way moving slow and swing onto your property. Didn’t see it come
back. Knew you weren’t home.” Xavier Marchand, Sr. jumped from the
driver’s side while his youngest son, Xavier, Jr. sat watching.
“Kinda late for you to be out visiting strangers,
fella.”

“
I got my cell phone ready
to dial the sheriff’s station, daddy,” the seventeen year
said.

“
No need for that. Miss
Rousselle ain’t in no danger from me,” the man said. No trace of
alarm was in his tone.

Mr. Marchand took a few steps closer.
He wore a surprised expression. “That you, Orin? Orin
Young?”

“
How you and the family
been doin’, Xavier? Haven’t seen you in a while.” Mr. Young nodded
to the man.

“
Yeah, since you stopped
coming to the Men’s Fellowship meetings at St. Anthony’s,” Mr.
Marchand replied. “I’m good, and same for the family. How are you,
Orin?”

“
Can’t say the same,
Xavier. Can’t say the same at all.” Mr. Young replied. “I just want
to talk to Miss Rousselle.”

“
I’m okay, Mr. Marchand.”
LaShaun knew the man was no threat.

“
This is a bad thing,” Mr.
Marchand said low, as if speaking to himself. He backed up and got
into the all terrain buggy again.

“
Are you sure we should
leave her? That dude showing up out here at night...” the younger
Marchand spoke quietly, but LaShaun could hear him. Xavier, Jr.
shifted to hold the rifle in his hands so that it was visible, as a
warning apparently.

“
Let’s get on home,” his
father said. He frowned at Mr. Young and then glanced briefly at
LaShaun before shifting into reverse.

“
We’ll keep an eye out,
Miss LaShaun,” his son shouted over the noise of the vehicle’s
engine. His father did not look back, as though he was eager to be
gone.

“
Sorry, I tried to avoid
anybody knowing I come out here. The whole town gonna know by
tomorrow night. Guess I better leave.” Mr. Young heaved a deep
sigh. More waves of despair flowed from him.

“
No point now. They’re
going to know anyway, so you might as well come in and say what you
have to say.” LaShaun looked at him.

“
You ain’t scared to talk
to me by yourself?”

“
I’m not scared. You can
come in for some tea or coffee.” LaShaun could feel that Mr. Young
was wavering. His uncertainty warred with his desire to speak to
her. “You’ve come this far.”

“
Yes.” Mr. Young walked to
the porch steps, but then hesitated again. One foot was on the
first step. “Being seen with me won’t be good for your
reputation.”

LaShaun’s laughter startled him. “Mr.
Young, you can’t do my reputation any harm.”

“
What about your deputy? He
wants to be sheriff I hear,” Mr. Young replied.

Her smile faded and she looked at him
with interest. “You better come on in then before anybody else sees
you.”

She opened the door and beckoned for
him to go in first. After a few more seconds Mr. Young walked ahead
of her into the house. LaShaun turned on the porch light and
followed him into the formal parlor for visitors. Once he was
seated on the edge of a chair, LaShaun went down the hallway to the
kitchen. Fortunately she’d left the electric coffee maker prepared
so all she had to do was flip the on switch. After setting up cups
on a tray she went back to the parlor. Mr. Young stood staring at
wood carvings on a side table. Then he gazed up at the landscape
painting of one portion of LaShaun’s family acres around the house.
She’d taken down the portrait of Monmon Odette. The painting had a
tendency to unsettle visitors. Instead she loaned it to the local
museum, to the curator’s great delight.