A Darker Shade of Midnight (21 page)

“Ms. Rousselle, I’m Keitha Peters with Fox News Louisiana.” The young woman spoke quickly while motioning a videographer into position.

“Nice to meet you. No comment.” LaShaun brushed past her while the reporter called out questions.

 
Chase met her halfway on the stone steps leading into the station. He blocked the camera view of LaShaun with his body. “. Come this way.”

“Deputy Broussard, is it true you killed a demon to protect the woman you love?” The reporter yelled before the pushed through the glass doors into the station.

“Great. My career has been reduced to a tabloid headline,” Chase grumbled.

“Sorry you got mixed up like this,” LaShaun said and glanced up at him briefly.
 

“Mostly I was doing my job,” he replied in his best official tone. But he gave her hand a squeeze before letting it go when they reached his boss’s office.

 
Chase knocked once then opened the door. The wide office had two windows that let in plenty of sunshine. Pictures of smiling children framed in silver were scattered atop three big file cabinets. Strange to find such a cheerful room in a place where dark deeds were discussed. To her surprise, Sheriff Triche sat behind his desk. Mable Arceneaux stood at attention to his right, her arms crossed behind her.

“Well, well. Ain’t the last two days been a real mess.” Sheriff Triche grimaced at LaShaun.
 

“Yes, sir.” LaShaun looked at Chase then back to the older man .
 

“I knew Brad Gautreau all his life. Always had a wild streak, but I never would have figured.” The sheriff heaved a sigh. He picked up his ringing phone then slammed it back down without speaking. “Damn reporters.”

Deputy Arceneaux cleared her throat. “Trosclair blames Gautreau for everything, especially the murder. He and Azalei are lawyered up.”

“What about Azalei?” LaShaun asked.

“She’ll be charged with accessory before and after a crime and a few other things. Too bad being a scheming witch isn’t against the law. She’d get twenty to life on that one,” Deputy Arceneaux said dryly.

“Trosclair kept his hands pretty clean. We’re working on what we have on him. Those knot-heads Azalei hired to go after you will likely give us something.” Sheriff Triche grunted. “I’ll get him if it’s the last thing I do before I retire.”

“I warned him you’re like a pit bull, once you clamp down on something with those jaws you won’t let go.
 
So, what does the DA say about me?” LaShaun
 
looked at Deputy Arceneaux and back at Sheriff Triche.

“Go home,” he said gruffly. “And try not to cause any more trouble, a least for the next few days. Stretch it out to a few months if you can. As for you Broussard, you may have missed your chance to be elected. But that’s the least of your worries. I may think up several good reasons to reprimand you for insubordination and not being forthcoming with Mable. She was your superior officer, or did that slip your mind?”
 

“No, sir.” Chase pressed his lips together.

“Chase didn’t do anything wrong.” LaShaun looked at him. “He— ”

“We’ll decide on that, young lady.” Sheriff Triche cut her off. “And don’t either of you go blabbing to them damn reporters. Stories about sex and voodoo on the bayou. I’d like to wring their necks. Go on now, outta my sight.” He waved at them to leave.

Deputy Arceneaux shrugged then shook her head when Chase started to speak. He looked at his boss. The Sheriff’s angry bulldog expression seemed to convince him. Chase opened the door and followed LaShaun out.

“So that’s it then. The fiasco is over.” Chase let out a long slow breath.

“That’s a joke, right?” LaShaun said as she faced him.

“Yeah, and the town will be talking about this for weeks,” he agreed.

“For years.” LaShaun continued to gaze at him. “What you did for me, I appreciate it
 

but— ”

“Like my boss said, I can take care of myself.” Chase replied, his deep voice firm. “About what happened with Quentin, I mean. That... thing that took control of him. Was that real?

LaShaun nodded. “Very.”

“Is it gone for good?”

She looked past him into another realm, the one her grandmother had reached into with dangerous results. She knew that once disturbed, those forces were not so easily stopped.
 
Then she placed a hand on his chest. She pushed his collar aside to see the leather cord around his neck. LaShaun was relieved to feel the outline of the pendant she’d given him.
 

“I hope it won’t come back,” LaShaun said quietly.
 

“I think the worst is over,” he said.

His husky scent and deep voice brought her back to this world. Looking into his Cajun dark eyes helped bring the sunshine back into her life.
 
Good had been stronger. No matter how many times midnight arrived a new day full of promise would return. They ignored the stares of the other deputies and the civilian employees.

“The Sheriff ordered us to leave. With all these reporters around we can’t go anywhere too public.” LaShaun raised an eyebrow at him.
 

“Maybe they haven’t found my place,” Chase said.

“Of course they have. Somebody is bound to have told them where you live.”
 

He grinned. “But I’ll bet they don’t know about the camp on False River my great-aunt left me in her will. It’s fixed up with all the comforts of home.”

Two hours later, they lay wrapped around each other in the bed of the master bedroom. The “camp” was more like a lovely old house with three bedrooms, a kitchen, and a porch facing the water. The occasional hum of boat motors going by sounded soothing. Chase kissed her neck and tried to snuggle even closer.

“I’ve ruined your chance to be elected sheriff.” LaShaun looked up at him.

“I wouldn’t say that. Haven’t you heard? I’m a hero in Beau Chene. I caught a killer and faced down a demon.” Chase laughed when she rolled her eyes.

“Oh I can’t believe you just said that.” LaShaun pressed her lips to the pendant on the cord around his neck.

“I’m just repeating the headlines. Even the mayor is giving interviews, so don’t assume I’ll have to leave town.” Chase put a finger under her chin and lifted her face. “You can’t get rid of me now.”

“Well, since I’m stuck with you,” LaShaun whispered. She put both arms around his naked waist. “I might as well make the best of it.”

Read Another LaShaun Rousselle Mystery

Between Dusk and Dawn

LaShaun and Chase battle a new kind of evil prowling the Louisiana swamps. Can the notorious serial killer dubbed The Blood River Ripper help them? Are loup garous real creatures stalking the residents of Vermillion Parish? They’re about to find out.

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