Gotta Get Next To You (40 page)

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Authors: Lynn Emery

Tags: #romance, #suspense, #bayou, #private detective, #louisiana, #cajun country

BOOK: Gotta Get Next To You
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“No, you hold up!” Ty’Rance snarled. “Good
thing I had my boys watchin’ him. We caught him tryin’ to run out
on our deal.”

“Don’t do something stupid,” Lee said.

“Uh-uh, not me. Y’all stupid for thinkin’ you
could play me! Gonna take it all for yourselves, huh? You, him, and
your woman had it all figured out.”

Andrea felt Lee stiffen. Denny had used his
street smarts to give them as much time as he could. Ty’Rance
thought they were going to steal the drugs and cut him out. She
gazed at Denny. No doubt he knew Ty’Rance would understand being
double-crossed by another criminal and would come after them. That
kept Denny alive a few hours more. Far safer than if Ty’Rance knew
the real story. But they were still in serious trouble. Andrea
gazed up at Lee. Lee stared at Denny, and then looked at
Ty'Rance.

“Well, punk?” Ty’Rance barked.

Lee broke free of Andrea’s grasp. He pointed
at Denny. “You lying little piece of shit! I don’t know any-thing
about it.”

“Blow it out your ass, Jamal!” Denny screamed
back. “It was his idea, Ty! All of it. He told me he had
connections with Li’l Bootsie in New Orleans.”

“I don’t know any dude named Bootsie in New
Or-leans,” Lee yelled. “You can’t trust Denny, man.”

“Yeah, go ahead, Jamal,” Denny shot back.
‘Try to sell that cheap-ass talk. Ain’t nobody buyin’ it, though.”
“So he should listen to you? Denny, man, you know damn well if it
wasn’t for me—”

“If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have no gun
in my face, punk!”

Andrea shivered in fear at the dangerous
game. She knew he and Denny were playing off each other. The lies
were being spun fast and furious. They were improvising like two
rap musicians, making it up as they went along. Ty’Rance watched
them, his lifeless eyes narrowed to reptilian slits.

“Let’s pop all of ’em, Ty!” The man holding
the gun on Denny looked wired. Denny grunted when he jammed it hard
against his head. “Then we can get the goods without all this
hassle.”

“Everybody just shut up!” Ty’Rance roared. He
paced in a circle for several minutes. He stopped and hitched up
his pants in a gesture of machismo. “This is how it’s gonna be. I
want my stuff. Where is it?”

“In my trunk. All the stuff you wanted. I was
gonna deliver it to you, man.” Lee pointed to his car.

“Open it,” Ty’Rance said.

“I was just slippin’ off to see my lady, Ty.
I was comin’ back. I want money same as you.” Denny spoke
carefully. “There’s lots more where that came from. But we gotta
order it.”

Lee opened the trunk with his remote. He did
not move until Ty’Rance walked over and opened it wide. Then he
started toward the car. “That’s the only thing he’s not lying
about, man. You need us.”

Ty’Rance held up one hand to indicate Lee
should come no closer. He took out a switchblade and cut open the
thick cardboard of one box and examined the con-tents. He turned
around to face them again.

“Yeah. Good stuff.”

“Like I told you,” Lee said.

“Not you. I set it up,” Denny complained.

Suddenly, Ty’Rance turned and looked at
Andrea. He raked her with a gaze that left her feeling soiled.
“Hey, pretty lady. We ain’t been introduced.”

“She’s out of it,” Lee said quickly.

“That ain’t what Denny told me. Damn, she’s
fine, too.” He slowly took her in from head to toe again. “I’ll let
you boys go. The dope and the woman are mine.” “Hell no!” Lee took
a step forward. He stopped when

the man pointing the gun at Denny aimed at
him instead.

“I didn’t ask, I’m tellin’ you,” Ty’Rance
said in a flat, cold tone. “This is part payment for all the
trouble you caused me. Keep deliverin’ the goods and you’ll both
keep on livin’.”

“She’s not part of the deal we had, Ty.”
Lee’s deep voice thundered with rage.

“Keep on, fool, and I’ll kill you right here,
right now. Don’t matter to me,” the man with the gun said.

Ty’Rance crossed to Andrea and grabbed her
arm. “C’mon, baby. I got more of what you need than either of these
tired-ass punks.”

He yanked her against his body and Andrea
recoiled at the scent of sweat, cigarette smoke, and too much
cologne. ‘Take your greasy, stinking hands off me.” Ty’Rance
laughed and rolled his pelvis suggestively. “You gonna scream for
more.”

Lee tackled Ty’Rance low and knocked him to
the ground with lightning speed. Andrea went down with them. She
struggled to keep both of the heavy men from rolling on her.
Ty’Rance held on to her with an iron grip. Andrea bit down with all
her might on the meaty hand. Ty’Rance screamed in pain and she bit
harder. She rammed her knee in his side for good measure.

“Cut it out or I’ll shoot your ass!” The man
with the gun swung it wildly. He held on to Denny, but jumped
around as he watched the tangle of arms and legs.

“Oh shit, it’s the sheriff!” Denny pointed at
a dark car in the distance. He jerked on the man. “Let’s get outta
here. They catch us with those drugs, it’s twenty years.”
“Ty’Rance, c’mon, man. It’s the cops,” the man croaked. His eyes
were glassy with panic as his gaze darted in every direction.

Denny jerked free and sprinted off into the
dark. The man fired a shot at him. Denny stumbled but tried to keep
moving. He dragged his left leg. The man fired again. Denny went
down and did not get up.

“No, no!” Andrea shrieked at the sight of him
crumpled on the pavement.

Another shot rang out behind her. She turned
to find Lee and Ty’Rance struggling to control Ty'Rance’s gun.
Andrea started toward Denny just as another shot exploded. Suddenly
a swirl of red and blue lights washed over the scene.

“Get down, Andrea,” Lee shouted. His fist
smashed into Ty’Rance’s chin. The gang leader’s head snapped back
and his eyes lost focus.

“Drop that weapon!” A voice ordered.

Crouching on the rough pavement, Andrea
turned in the direction of the command. A tall, black sheriff’s
deputy aimed his gun at the man who’d shot Denny. Lee continued to
pound Ty’Rance. Through a haze, Andrea recognized Sheriff
Boudreaux.

“Hey, hey! You made your point, son.” Sheriff
Boudreaux and another deputy pried Lee off Ty’Rance. The young
deputy handcuffed Ty’Rance.

Lee stood slowly, still panting from
exertion. “Had a little change of plans,” he gasped to the
sheriff.

“So I see,” Sheriff Boudreaux quipped. He
walked over to where Ty’Rance sat on the concrete with his hands
bound behind him. “Guess you done figured this out, but you under
arrest, son. Read ’em their rights, then get ’em down to the
jail.”

Andrea ran toward Denny. “He’s hurt,
Lee.”

When she got to him, his blue T-shirt was
stained with blood and dirt. His eyes were half-open. Andrea
checked his pulse and touched his skin. It was clammy. “He’s going
into shock.”

“Paramedics on the way, ma’am,” a deputy told
her.

Andrea shouted orders to the men to help her.
She located a flesh wound to his thigh and a ragged bullet wound in
his right side. While they turned him over, Andrea dashed into the
clinic and got latex gloves, a sheet to cover him, and bandages to
stop the flow of blood. The wail of sirens was a welcome sound. A
female paramedic rushed from the emergency vehicle as Andrea rushed
back outside. They worked together to clean and wrap the wounds.
Denny was placed on a gurney by a male paramedic with help from two
deputies. Seconds later, they drove away. Andrea watched the white
and red lights disappear, listening to sirens fade into the
distance. Lee was at her side.

“He’ll be okay?” he asked, putting one around
her shoulder.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled, and sagged
against his hip. “I’m going to dispose of these and lock up.” She
held up her gloved hands.

Lee told Sheriff Boudreaux he’d be right back
and accompanied her into the clinic. She went to the first
examining room, stripped off the gloves, and washed her hands
thoroughly in the sink.

“Did you get hurt?” Andrea said over her
shoulder.

“Fine time to ask,” Lee teased. He leaned
against the exam table.

Andrea tore a paper towel from the dispenser,
and then faced him. She smiled tiredly. “You were beating the hell
out of the guy. I figured you didn’t need my help.”

Lee rubbed his chin. His face was pinched
with fatigue. “God, what a night.”

“You mean morning. Five-fifteen to be exact.”
Andrea pointed to a round clock on the wall in the hallway. “I
better call Denny’s grandmother,” he said.

Andrea gazed at him. Lee looked as though he
would collapse at any moment. He must have gone without much rest
for days. “I can do it. You look kinda whipped yourself,
Matthews.”

“No, she should hear it from me. Like you
said, I got him into this.” He pushed himself away from the table.
“I’m going to the hospital after I talk to her.”

“Me, too. And I’ll be with you when you call
her.” Andrea enfolded him in her arms. They swayed together for a
few seconds, his face buried in her hair. Then they walked out
together. Lee waited while she locked the clinic one last time.

 

***

 

Two days later, they were all at Andrea’s
apartment. Gran had insisted on preparing them a special dinner.
Lee and Andrea still moved around gingerly, both bruised from the
struggle with Ty’Rance. They sat in the living room after eating
Gran’s famous peach crunch for dessert. Gran clucked at them and
shook her head. “Y’all young people think you’re indestructible.
Look at ya.” She shook her head again.

“It only hurts when we laugh,” Lee joked.

“I told y’all what to do. Tante Rosalie’s
salve works wonders.” Gran held up a dark blue glass jar and took
off the metal cap. Andrea and Lee gasped at the strong smell.

“Oh Lord! Put that stuff up before we pass
out.” Andrea waved a hand in front of her face. “Lord have
mercy.”

“Whew!” Lee blinked. “I won’t have a stuffy
nose for another ten years.”

“Couple of big babies. Suppose you think
modem medicine has all the answers.” Gran put the lid back on the
jar. She stuffed it in her huge purse. “All those miracle cures
came from herbs. The old folks used ’em years ago. And they didn’t
need no prescriptions.”

“Went right into the woods when they needed
some-thing,” Andrea and Lee said together, and then laughed. They
had heard the speech at least ten times in the past two days.

“All right, smarties. One day you’ll need the
Fontenot family remedies.” Gran shook a finger at them. Then she
smiled with affection. “I’m just happy you rascals can still clown
around. Hope Denny will be all right.”

“Don’t worry, Gran. He’s responding well
after the surgery. It will take a while, but he should be okay,”
Andrea said.

“At least the bullets didn’t hit any major
organs or sever an artery. Man, there was so much blood.” Lee
brushed Andrea’s hair with one hand. “You saved him, baby.”

“I had help. He’s going to need physical
therapy, but the prognosis is pretty positive.” Andrea sighed.

Denny had emergency surgery that very night.
Andrea had been there to explain it all to his frightened
grandmother. The doctor had assured them that youth and good health
were in his favor. He proved right. It had been touch and go for a
while, but Denny had come through.

“And thank goodness that hoodlum is going to
jail,” Gran said.

“Ty’Rance won’t be planning crime waves in
Lafourche Parish for a good long time.” Lee put a protective arm
around Andrea.

Gran stood. “Well, children, I’m going home.”
“Don’t rush off, sweetie.” Andrea stood and nuzzled Gran’s cheek.
“We want to hear more stories from the old days.”

“I’m not young and these old bones need rest.
Be-sides, y’all want to be alone. You both got that sparkle in your
eyes.” Gran winked at them.

“Give me some sugar before you go.” Lee
kissed her forehead. “Thanks, Gran.”

“Pooh-ya! You don’t need to thank family,
son.” Gran gave him a big hug. “Now, I got to get plenty of rest
before tomorrow night.”

“What’s going on tomorrow night?” Andrea
said. She and Lee walked with her to the door.

“Senior citizens dance. Mr. Walter swears
we’re gonna boogie all night.” Gran giggled and waved goodbye.

Lee held Andrea against him as they watched
Gran drive away. “She was right. I’ve got a sparkle in my eye for
you,” he murmured.

Andrea wiggled in his arms. “So prove
it.”

Lee pulled her inside the door and closed it.
“Can you put up with a guy like me? I’m not always levelheaded or
conventional. I know how you hate drama. As for my job, being a
private investigator is ...”

“Not exactly conventional sometimes,” she
finished for him. “And you don’t always tell the truth to do it.”
Andrea raised her eyebrows at him.

“Not lies ... exactly.” He grinned for a
moment, and then became serious. “There’s a lot about me you don’t
know. I—”

Andrea pushed him down on the sofa and
covered his body with hers. She caressed his thighs as she spoke.
“I look forward to probing your secrets,” she whispered huskily.
His reply was a moan and a long, passionate kiss.

 

 

 

About the Author

 

Mix knowledge of voodoo, Louisiana politics
and forensic social work with the dedication to write fiction while
working each day as a clinical social worker, and you get a
snapshot of author Lynn Emery. Lynn has been a contributing
consultant to the magazine Today’s Black Woman for three articles
about contemporary relationships between black men and women. For
more information visit:

 

www.lynnemery.com

 

 

Read the other three Louisiana Love Series:
City Girls novels

 

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Tell Me Something Good

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