Good Woman Blues (38 page)

“We can shower together. Conserves energy,
water and takes less time.” Gabriel’s full mouth lifted at one
comer.

“How environmentally conscious of you,” she
replied. Erikka strolled toward the bedroom and snagged his hand
along the way.

Gabriel followed happily. “Hey, just doing my
part.”

Two hours later they sat in a booth at
Copeland’s on St. Charles Avenue. Early evening sunshine slanted
across the dining area. They sat side by side gazing out at the
scene. A streetcar clattered by. Erikka sighed. She wanted her
perfect world, the one she’d dreamed about as a kid. A year ago
Erikka had convinced herself she had it, the same way she felt
right now. Then she crashed. Erikka felt like the giant “other
shoe” was about to fall, on her head. Again.

“You okay?” Gabriel put a hand on her
thigh.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Don’t stay if it’s not worth it, Erikka.”
Gabriel started to say more but the waitress appeared.

Erikka welcomed the interruption. Once the
young woman placed the plates on the table and left, she jumped
right in. “Don’t make assumptions about what’s important to me.
Maybe being an accountant isn’t sexy like performing brain surgery,
but—”

“Back up. Where did that come from?”
Gabriel’s dark eyebrows seemed to form opposing question marks.

The waitress came back to the rescue with
extra napkins. Erikka took a deep breath, assured her they were
fine then gazed everywhere but at Gabriel. He began eating his
grilled catfish. Minutes ticked by.

“I plead temporary insanity,” Erikka said
finally. She studied his expression with a lump of anxiety in her
throat.

Gabriel sipped water, wiped his mouth and cut
another piece of fish. Erikka watched him take time to consider
what she had said and what she hadn’t said. He glanced up at her
with a slight smile. They both relaxed.

“Plea accepted,” he said.

Erikka leaned across the table and shook a
fist at him. “Funny man.” She sat back with a sigh.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t question your
passion for what you do. I didn’t mean to belittle your choice,”
Gabriel said.

“How did I get so lucky to find you?” she
said quietly. Fighting back tears made her eyes itch. Erikka found
a tissue in her purse just in case.

“We both screwed up our lives and ended up in
Loreauville,” he said, his smile wider.

She laughed out loud and two men at a table
next to them stared. “Now look what you made me do. Those guys
really do think I’m nuts.”

“No, they’re simply admiring this beautiful
lady with a magical laugh,” Gabriel said, his face close to
hers.

Coming from anyone else, his words would have
sounded phony as hell. Erikka flushed with pleasure. He had a way
about him that pulled the wrinkles right out of her life. She
propped her chin on one hand.

“Thanks. You’re love and tenderness wrapped
up in a nice candy coating. Something I’m not used to in a man. Or
can’t you tell?” Erikka said.

“Glad to set a new standard.” Gabriel kissed
her lips.

“Hmmm, lemon butter with a dash of Gabriel. I
have to remember that recipe for fish,” Erikka teased.

Gabriel laughed and went back to his food.
“Sure you’re okay? I can stay over another night.”

“No, you’ve got a business to run. I’m fine.”
Erikka tackled her shrimp salad. “Besides, if I can’t handle this
test then I’m in big trouble.”

“Don’t try to handle it alone every day. I’m
never too busy for you. Call me, anytime. Promise.” Gabriel paused
as he gazed at her intently.

“Yeah, yeah. Geez, it’s not all that serious.
Most of the heat is on Layton and that sleazy Transome. Nadine says
we’re pretty much in the clear.” Erikka put as much optimism in her
voice as she possibly could. Gabriel continued to look at her. “I’m
telling you it’s going to be okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated, his serious expression
easing into a smile again.

Erikka performed a neat trick. She kept up a
steady stream of breezy talk. By the time Gabriel left for home
that night, she did indeed feel better. When her phone rang and the
caller ID came on, Erikka sighed. She grabbed the pad kept for
notes and answered it. Her boss could not start the business week
on Monday like most sensible New Orleanians.

“Yes, Nadine.”

***

Erikka hugged the pillow to her chest and
stared out of the window. She heard voices through her closed
bedroom door, a distance buzzing. Not that it mattered. Nothing
mattered. She’d spun down into a dark well and hit bottom again.
Two days had passed since Nadine had called her. Damage control,
Nadine had said. Get their stories straight before the media hounds
attacked. Snatches of her conversation with Nadine would pop into
her head. She hadn’t slept much since. Disjointed phrases from the
news reports had jolted her awake like nightmares. Suicide. Murder.
Single mother kills self and handicapped child.

There was a soft knock on her door; it
opened, and Terri came in with a tray. “Karin made you a cup of
chamomile tea.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Erikka forced the courtesy
out after a few seconds.

“You really ought to call Gabriel.” Terri set
the tray down on one end table.

Erikka couldn’t imagine how to talk about the
blood on her hands, not even to him. He would understand. She felt
sure he would. But Erikka’s mouth went so dry; her tongue ached
just thinking about saying the words.

“Not yet,” she whispered, sinking deeper into
the pillows.

“Okay.” Terri tried to hand her the cup. When
Erikka didn’t take it, she put it back on the tray. “I hate this,
but we have to talk.”

‘Talk,” Erikka echoed, not in agreement or as
an invitation for Terri to continue. Her response came from numb
resignation.

“Right. Alison Ray’s ex-husband has
miraculously appeared. He’s hired an attorney to file a wrongful
death lawsuit against your employer. He abandoned his wife and
disabled child. Alison Ray had to drag his ass into court six times
before he paid child support. Now he’s trying to profit from their
deaths. What a piece of work.”

Erikka shook her head. She was in no position
to pass judgment. “I do feel responsible.”

“No, you’re not. Alison Ray made the choice.
Killing herself and her child was her decision.”

“She didn’t think she had another way out. We
both know the feeling of being pushed into a comer.” Erikka looked
at her.

Terri blew air through her pursed thin lips.
“Yeah, and we’ve both been through enough therapy to know about
personal responsibility.”

“I was so ecstatic to be back in the game.
Nadine offered me a plum, and I took it. I knew what I was doing.
Hell, I’d done it before. I broke my arm patting myself on the
back.” Erikka closed her eyes.

“Look, don’t do this to yourself,” Terri
said, trying to interrupt.

“I followed accepted accounting procedures. I
didn’t lie, but those Layton execs used reports I prepared to cheat
their employees.” Erikka spoke with anger, yet her voice came out
in a dull, dry rasp. She didn’t have the energy left to work up
much emotion.

“Maybe, but that’s what you were hired to do.
You didn’t break any laws. The employees should have kept a closer
eye on their retirement fund, educated themselves.” Terri leaned
toward her for emphasis.

“That’s our courtroom defense, but you and I
know the deal. Those people trusted their employer. They trusted my
firm and me.”

Erikka looked around her bedroom. She loved
it so. Soft colors of dusty blue and moss green soothed her. The
entire apartment had a welcome feel the moment she walked in at the
end of a day. Her world had been tom up and reconstructed. She’d
happily followed along a path of greed. The fruits of success had
ripened and rotted in her hands. Again.

Terri paced, her hands on her slim hips
pushing back the silk jacket of her suit. She looked the part of a
smart female attorney. “I’m going to backtrack, find out what your
boss knew and when she knew it.”

Erikka blinked at her and watched Terri make
a circle around the room, gaze out the window, then come back. “Not
that it matters.”

“Yes, it does matter. Look, I’m not going to
help you beat up on yourself. Take your antidepressants, call your
therapist and get over it.” Terri crossed her arms. “This is life.
Bad shit happens.”

“The tough love act, huh?” Erikka gave her a
tired smile.

“Is it working?” Terri replied.

“A little. I need a drink.” Erikka rubbed her
faced with one hand.

“I’ll reheat the chamomile.” Terri barked a
laugh when Erikka let out a curse word.

Karin came in. “Knock, knock.”

“It’s safe,” Erikka said.

“Here.” Karin handed her the phone, glanced a
message at Terri, and both left.

Erikka heard Gabriel’s hello and began
crying. He did all the talking. His gentle voice, like a bass
guitar playing a love song, made a circle around her heart.

Chapter 22

Erikka sat on Darlene’s front porch. Trucks
and cars zipped by. No one waved that day, far different from her
first week in Loreauville. They were outcasts. She sat sideways,
with her legs up on the cypress swing Gabriel had made for Darlene.
In the quiet small town Erikka had no choice but to think. Grim,
gritty, guilty thoughts. Nothing her bosses had said made her feel
better about a dead mother and child. Alison Ray had a history of
alcoholism. According to Terri, she’d attempted suicide twice
before.

“The woman was obviously unstable, Erikka. On
the edge for years. Even her no-good ex-husband said so. She
wouldn’t even accept help with the child, thought no one but she
could take care of her. See? This isn’t on you,” Terri had told
her, while holding up the investigator’s report.

Erikka had sat on one of three plush leather
chairs in Terri’s comer office. The law firm where she worked was
decorated with calm colors. Bouchand, Currier and DeRocher, LLC,
must be pulling in some serious coin, Erikka remembered thinking at
the time. She half listened to her friend’s attempts to absolve her
of any possible blame. Soft blue and moss green made the office
look like a cool oasis. No doubt nervous clients with dirty hands
needed to feel better. The atmosphere hadn’t done a thing for
Erikka.

The whoosh of a large truck going by and the
blast of its horn brought her back. Erikka waved back at a smiling
trucker. He must be from out of town, she mused. Didn’t matter. At
that point she’d take any sign of friendliness she could get. A
sharp acid feeling burned in her throat and chest. Her doctor
assured her that the chest pains were related to indigestion and
anxiety. No kidding. Half the state thought she had a child’s blood
on her hands. Damn right she had chest pains.

Inside the house, Darlene hummed along with a
smooth jazz tune on the sound system. Sunlight had been replaced by
the grayish blue of dusk. Insects that longed to feast on Erikka
bumped against the porch screen. The swing slowed to almost a
standstill. Erikka used one hand to push against the wall. She
settled against the cushion at her back, soothed by the rocking
motion. The compact disc flipped to a tune with a faster tempo.
Darlene followed, her contralto voice belting out words to the
song. Why was Darlene singing? Her aunt pushed through the storm
door, a glass in each hand.

“Brought you some strawberry lemonade. Got
the recipe off that cooking channel,” Darlene said, handing Erikka
one of the glasses.

“Thanks.” Erikka took a sip. She let out a
long sigh as her compliment.

Darlene grinned. “Oh yeah, I love this stuff.
Used real sugar.”

Erikka gasped. “You messed up my no-sugar,
low-carb groove.

“Mine, too. Hell with it. Life is too short,”
Darlene said with a shrug, and sat in a cane rocking chair. She
rocked, Erikka swayed, and they let the night noises fill in any
conversation gaps for a time.

“Too bad about LaTrice. Brandon holding up
under the strain?” Erikka asked.

“Well as can be expected. Hate to say it, but
I don’t think LaTrice is going to change her ways.” Darlene crossed
her legs. “But I’m keeping my mouth shut. Brandon will find that
out for himself.”

“True. He wouldn’t appreciate you saying, ‘I
told you so,’ anyway,” Erikka replied.

“I’ll have to bite my tongue a lot. But he
made his bed, and right is right,” Darlene said, quoting Maman
Lillie.

“Yeah.”

Erikka frowned. She still had unfinished
business. Darlene needed to know about Kelvin and one other woman
not his wife. For a long time Erikka sat mentally trying on
different openings. Darlene stretched lazily then stood.

“I’m going inside to watch television. I
know,” she said, when Erikka started to speak, “normally TV is not
my thing. But for the first time in weeks I can relax after work. I
plan to just lie there in a stupor like the rest of America.”

“No, that’s not what I was going to say. I
need to talk to you about something.” Erikka grabbed at the last
first line she’d considered.

Darlene let out a hiss. She put her empty
glass on a small table between the two rockers. “Here I’m thinking
the world is all about me. Look, your mama told me what happened.
You’re a good person, Erikka. Don’t let anybody convince you
otherwise.”

“Uh, thanks, Darlene. But that’s not what I
need to tell you.” Erikka swung her legs down until leather soles
of her sandals touched the floor.

“Oh. Okay. What’s going on then?” Darlene sat
down again.

Erikka was truly grateful for the deepening
shadows. Dusk made giving this bad news a little easier. “I was
kinda hoping this wouldn’t be necessary, but you really need to
know.” She stopped.

“Yeah?” Darlene pushed a button on the small
solar lamp on the table.