A Darker Shade of Midnight (7 page)

“They’ll use anything you do as evidence you’re not morally fit to manage the trust.” Savannah lightly tapped the screen of her tablet computer and a list of contacts appeared. The she dialed his number on her desk phone. She hit a button as the phone rang. After a brief time, an office assistant put them through. “Hello, Devin. I have you on speaker. LaShaun Rousselle is in my office.”

After a moment of hesitation Martin spoke. “Hello, ladies. What can I do for you today?”

“We need to talk about some discrepancies in Mrs. Rousselle’s accounts. We should arrange for a meeting. I’ve hired a forensic accountant.”

“Wait, I have another call coming through. Hold for a second. Sorry about that, but this won’t take long.” Then he was gone, and easy listening jazz replaced his voice.

“How much you want to bet they’re in his office right now cooking up a scheme?” LaShaun’s temper came to a boil again.

“I wouldn’t doubt it after that explosion yesterday.” Savannah was about to go on when the music stopped.

“Sorry again. Listen, I’m tied up right now on another matter. I’ll consult my client and get back to you.”

“I hope we hear from you soon so we can get any misunderstanding resolved.” Savannah made a face as though she already knew the answer of where the money went.

“Of course. I’ll be in touch. Have a great day, ladies.” Martin rang off.

“We’ll give them some time. If I don’t hear from them in the next two days, we’ll talk about what to do next.” Savannah stared at LaShaun. “And it won’t involve a knock down drama fest. Right?”

“Right,” LaShaun said. Her fiery Rousselle nature would just have to cool it. For now the slow wheels of the legal system would have to be her way of dealing with Rita and Azalei.

Savannah walked out of the office with her. “I know you want answers yesterday, but at least they can’t get at more of the money.”
 

“True. Now they know we know.” LaShaun squinted for a few seconds before she put on her sunglasses.
 

“We’re talking about possible criminal charges if what we suspect is true. A great reason they might decide not to challenge the trust and the will,” Savannah said.

 
Deputy Broussard drove up. One brawny arm rested in the window of the cruiser,. His sunglasses, strong jaw, and uniform caused female heads of all ages to turn for a second, even a third look. He nodded to Savannah but stared at LaShaun.
 

“Good afternoon, Miss Savannah.
 
Are you all right?”

Savannah gazed at him then at LaShaun. “Hi. I’m fine, and you?”

“Can’t complain much.
 
I’m just out and about keepin’ an eye on things.” Deputy Broussard nodded. “Ms. Rousselle.”

“You think folks need protection from me?” LaShaun said.

“Well based on that brawl and your reputation, keeping an eye on your might not be a bad idea.” Deputy Broussard gazed at LaShaun. His lips curve up in a brief smile that he suppressed quickly.

“I’m going to complain about police harassment if this keeps up, Deputy Broussard,” LaShaun said and crossed her arms.
 

“No ma’am. I have the best of intentions.”
 

“Uh-huh.”

 
LaShaun tried to feel annoyed, or at least indifferent. But the dark brown hair curled just to the edge of his shirt collar made him look too appealing. Not to mention she enjoyed the way his lips moved when he talked in that soft Cajun accent.
 

“Y’all excuse me. LaShaun, remember what I said.” Savannah looked at the deputy. She passed close to LaShaun on her way into the office. “Stay out of trouble.”

“I’m going to be so low key you won’t know I’m in town.” LaShaun grinned when Savannah rolled her eyes and walked into her office.

“That was some family reunion y’all had the other day. You might wanna listen to your lawyer, and save the battles for civil court.”
 

The dark lenses hid any message she might read in his eyes. LaShaun walked closer to the car. “That’s your friendly advice to keep me out of trouble?”
   

“Yes, ma’am. I’m being friendly.” He pulled the glasses down for a second then pushed them back up. “I hope to see you again, and not on a disturbance call either.”
 

With one last tempting smile, he waved goodbye, and eased the cruiser away from the curb. Other cars promptly slowed down to match his speed. LaShaun looked around to find several of the locals staring at her with interest. No doubt her little “friendly” chat with the hunky deputy would give them plenty to talk about for the rest of the day. LaShaun was about to leave when a snow white Lexus SUV pulled up to the curb exactly where the deputy’s cruiser had been moments before.
 

Quentin Trosclair sat behind the wheel. He’d been her lover and fellow suspect in the murder of his rich, mean as a snake grandfather. She had to admit the nasty piece of work had aged gracefully. Quentin looked fit and trim. Dressed in a light yellow knit shirt and khaki pants, he was still handsome in a spoiled, decadent kind of way. His black hair cut short.
 

“Well, well. Returning to the scene of the crime,” he said.

 
“Being home is getting to be more fun by the day.” LaShaun tapped her right fist against one jean clad thigh as she gazed back at Quentin.
 

Quentin seemed confident that LaShaun would wait stay put to talk to him. He removed his designer sunglasses to reveal those mesmerizing blue eyes. Dozens of southern debutantes had fallen prey to his sparkling smile, a lure into danger. Yet, LaShaun also saw the thin lines around his mouth and a few that framed his eyes. She knew those not only came from the passage of time. Greed and cruelty could twist his handsome face into something terrible to see.

“Looking good as always,” Quentin said, his gaze sliding down her body then back up to her face.

LaShaun walked closer to the Lexus. She noticed the gold band on the ring finger of his left hand. “Congratulations on your recent marriage.”
 

“How did you know? Oh, but of course. You’re the mysterious, supernatural LaShaun Rousselle.” His voice dropped to a melodramatic deep tone. Then he grinned at her.

In spite of the danger in that perfect rich boy smile LaShaun smiled back. “Naturally.”

“Maybe you’ve been keeping up with news about me because you care.” Quentin leaned a bit out of the window toward her.

“You still have a rich fantasy life,” LaShaun looked away from his intent gaze.

“Always when I see you,” Quentin replied. He pursed his lips then relaxed against the seat back. “How’s Miss Odette? Better I hope.”

“Well as can be expected. Thanks.”
 

LaShaun realized they were the center of attention. Mr. Thibodeaux, the owner of an upholstery shop, moved a broom around on the sidewalk. His attention was on LaShaun and Quentin. Several other shop owners seemed to have discovered outdoor tasks that needed doing as well. Cars slowed, tongues wagged and eyebrows raised.

“Hop in and let me take you for a ride,” Quentin said as he patted the soft leather passenger seat beside him.

“I can think of a whole list of reasons why that’s a bad idea.” LaShaun said. “Your wife probably already knows we’re talking.”

“Our marriage is built on trust,” Quentin said. His dark eyes sparkled with amusement.

“Then she’s not too bright, or else she’s from out of town,” LaShaun said with a laugh.

Quentin laughed. “Both. Meredith is a sweet girl from a fine family with deep roots in Vicksburg, Mississippi.”
 

 
“Well hush my mouth.” LaShaun put a hand over her heart like a southern belle. “Surely they have CNN in Vicksburg.”

“Yes indeed. They also follow the financial news.” Quentin nodded.
 

The Trosclair name and wealth still counted for a lot, especially with the old southern families. Besides, she knew very well that Quentin had enough bad boy charm to melt the polar ice caps. With all his assets LaShaun knew more than a few old southern families would be happy to believe in his innocence.

“Now don’t tell me you’re afraid of what people might think,” Quentin goaded.

“Like my reputation could get much worse around here,” LaShaun replied with sharp laugh.
 

“Exactly. So you don’t have anything to lose. Surely you’re not scared of me.” Quentin raised one dark eyebrow at her.

“I’m more selective about the company I keep these days.”

He put his sunglasses back on. “Really? I hear a certain deputy has taken an interest in you. Boring and broke is your type these days I suppose.”

“You don’t really think I’d hook up with a cop?” LaShaun laughed. What she really wanted was to throw Quentin off. He had a mean streak, and might go after Broussard just to prove a point to LaShaun.

“Yeah, does sound kinda silly. If he’s bothering you just let me know, darlin’.” Quentin nodded.
 

LaShaun sighed. “I don’t believe for a second you control anyone, especially not the sheriff.
 
He’d still like to lock you up before he leaves office.”

“In his dreams. That old man will retire in another six months. Hopefully we’ll have a fresh blood and a new perspective.”

 
“You’re backing a candidate?”

“I’m not into politics.” Quentin smiled back at her.

“Right.” LaShaun looked at him. The Trosclairs didn’t run for office, but they were more than happy to control the people elected.

 
“Triche could stay in office until he keeled over, and he’d never have evidence against me.”

“I don’t know. Forensic science has made a lot of advances in the past ten years. Maybe one of the candidates for his job might take an interest.”

“Has that Broussard guy said something to you?” Quentin took off his sunglasses to gaze at her intently.

“Not really, but coming up with new evidence on a famous cold case might definitely help anybody win the top cop job.” LaShaun shrugged.

Quentin snorted. “Broussard doesn’t have a chance. He isn’t as smart as he thinks he is. Besides, Brad Gautreau is a tough opponent.”

“I met him. He’s a jerk,” LaShaun replied.

“I heard you two didn’t hit it off at the station the other night.”

“So you’re chummy with the jerk; birds of a feather.” LaShaun began to get a clear picture, and it left a sour taste in her mouth.

“Say the word, and he won’t be a problem for you either.” Quentin shrugged. “Sure you don’t want to share a something delicious with me? I know a wonderful place we can go.”

“Sitting across from you would spoil my appetite.”
 

“I wasn’t talking about having a meal, baby.” Quentin ran the tip of his tongue around his lips and made a smacking sound.

“You really overestimate your own charm.” LaShaun gave a grunt of disgust.

As she walked away from the Lexus her skin tingled. Her affair with Quentin had been an adrenaline rush times ten. He’d satisfied her need for breaking all the rules. Like an addict, she’d never be entirely free of the craving. Something pulled at her, some force. A whispering call came from somewhere. Was it the wind or inside her head? The tingle became an itch to turn around, and go after Quentin. Trembling, she crossed her arms to ward off a chill even the intense Louisiana sunshine couldn’t stop. She closed her eyes for a second, and said a prayer. This was no ordinary urge. The loa had grown stronger. But so had she, stronger in her faith. With a deep breath, she pushed back hard. The sensation subsided.

Quentin flashed a wicked grin at her as he drove past.
 
“Ask your cousin Rita why you’ll be seeing more of me.”

“What?” LaShaun spun around with a gasp, but the Lexus picked up speed. Quentin waved a hand before closing the car window and gunning the engine.

Chapter 6

For the next two days, LaShaun ignored Savannah’s advice. She tried to call Rita on the phone repeatedly. All she got for her trouble was the recording of Rita’s voice telling her to leave a message. After twelve messages LaShaun wanted to break something when she heard recorded greeting. Savannah told her that Martin kept putting her off, saying that he wasn’t able to get in touch with Rita. When LaShaun told Savannah she thought he was a lying scumbag, Savannah again cautioned her against rash action. LaShaun’s response was to drive out to Rita’s townhouse and pound on the front door.
 
No answer. LaShaun went back to her SUV to sit and wait, determined to catch Rita coming or going.

“You got a good reason for bein’ here, ma’am?”

LaShaun jumped at the deep voice outside her car window. Deputy Gautreau lifted an eyebrow at her. He tapped on the window. LaShaun hit the button to open the window.

“Visiting a relative,” LaShaun replied with a smile. “I don’t see a ‘No Parking’ sign either. But it’s reassuring to know you’re on patrol, deputy.”

“I got a call about a possible disturbance,” he replied.