Bayou Judgment (3 page)

“You okay?” Luc moved to join them.

“Oh, Ms. Trahan, I'm so sorry for what happened.” Mr. McRae waddled across the walkway. Her landlord patted her shoulder, his pudgy face wreathed in concern. “Don't you worry about a thing. I'll get the apartment cleaned up for you.”

“You don't have to do that,” she muttered.

“I don't think she'll be coming back, Mr. McRae.” Luc hovered at her side.

“Oh.” Her landlord's eyes held such sadness as he looked at Felicia. “I'll be sorry to see you go, but I understand.”

Back that truck up. She might be grief stricken, but she did still have a voice. “Actually, Mr. McRae, I'd like to stay.”

Luc took hold of her elbow. “You aren't thinking clearly,
Boo.
You can't come back here.”

She locked stares with Mr. McRae. “Could I change apartments? I'd still need one on the bottom floor, of course.”

“Certainly. Six-A left last week. I finished the paint job just this morning.”

“Felicia,” Luc interrupted, “I don't think this is a good idea. Why don't you take a couple of days to consider your opt—”

“No.” She shook her head to emphasize. “I'm not moving back home. Mr. McRae, how soon could I move into the new apartment?”

“By the end of next week.” He glanced at Luc and must have seen the storm clouds brewing in her brother's face.

“But maybe you should think about this.”

“My decision is made. I'll arrange to have my things moved next weekend, after I see about packing up J-Jolie's things.” She hated how her voice cracked merely saying her name.

As if it were the most natural gesture in the world, Spence took a step closer to her.

Before anyone could argue, a uniformed officer ran up the walkway. “Sheriff, we have a neighbor who has some information you might want to hear.”

Sheriff Theriot scooted from the doorway. “Whatcha got, Alan?”

Felicia took two steps to get closer to the policeman, and craned to listen.

“Next-door lady says she heard a woman pounding on the door here around seven-forty-five. Says she looked out her window and saw the woman, can identify her. Ms. Landry must have let her inside because the neighbor says she heard all kinds of yelling and screaming.”

Felicia's heartbeat drowned out coherent thought. Jolie yelling? Never. Jolie's nature wouldn't allow her to raise her voice.

“Does she know the woman?” Sheriff Theriot asked.

“Yeah. Says she recognized the woman as Sadie Thompson.”

“I'm on my way.” The sheriff turned to Felicia. “Remember, I'll need you to come by the station in the morning to give your official statement.” His gaze drifted to her brother. “We'll get to the bottom of it, Luc.”

But Felicia paid no attention as she let Luc lead her to his SUV. Why would Sadie come to the apartment?

And what would possess Jolie to let her in?

S
weat dripped into Felicia's eyes.

“
Allons,
girl, you can do it.” Her physical therapist, Mark, shoved her through the last set of leg presses. “If you want to walk without that cane, you haveta finish this.”

Flashing him a stabbing look, Felicia grunted and completed the set. She let out a long sigh and wiped her brow with a towel. “Shouldn't this be getting easier after all these months?”

Mark chuckled. “We're working new muscles.”

“You're a slave driver.”

“But you love me.” He grinned and waggled his eyebrows.

Despite her exhaustion, she smiled back. He had her there—she did adore him. He knew her goal of walking without aid and pushed her hard to achieve it. Besides that, he was a good person. Nice. Honest. A person she could allow herself to care about without worrying about romantic entanglements. Mark had a sweet wife waiting on him at home. No threat.

“Are you sure you don't want to take a couple of days to get over the incident? You can do your exercises at home.”

The incident? What a polite way to say her friend had been murdered.

“No. Jolie wouldn't have wanted me to cut back on her account. She wanted to see me walk alone.”

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you.” Mark laid a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“It's okay.” She wiped her face. “I think I'll go hit the showers now.”

“Luc picking you up?”

“Or the driver.” Pressing hard on the cane, she shoved herself to her feet. Her leg muscles, unused for a lifetime, quaked under her weight.

“I'll see you tomorrow, then.” Mark gave a mock punch to her upper arm. “You done good today, girl.”

“Merci.”
Her thoughts jumbled as she lumbered to the locker room.

Three days after the
incident,
and the police still hadn't found the murder weapon. Meanwhile, they were looking for Sadie Thompson to question her, as well as Kipp Landry, who seemed to have fallen off the face of the earth.

Felicia stiffened her back. Her best friend's murderer walked around free as a bird. No, this wouldn't do. If the police didn't get answers soon, maybe she'd do a little probing herself. She owed it to Jolie.

An hour and a shower later, she had no further revelation on the matter. The hot spray had eased some of the tightness in her left calf, but the ache grew, creeping up into her thigh. She hobbled back into the lobby of the physical therapy center.

“Hey, can I give you a lift?” asked CoCo, Luc's girlfriend.

Felicia smiled. “You didn't have to come fetch me, yes?”

“Don't be silly. I wanted to check on you.” CoCo hugged her. “
Allons,
let's blow this joint.”

Felicia had to laugh at her friend's gangster imitation. She followed CoCo to the Jeep, her steps slower than normal.

“Luc told me you didn't plan on staying at home.” CoCo turned over the engine and headed toward the Trahan house.

Ah, so that's why he sent CoCo to pick her up—in hopes his girlfriend could talk her out of staying at the apartment complex.

She hated to disappoint her big brother, but Felicia had no intention of staying back at home. “Yep. I need to arrange to move my things into the new apartment this weekend.”

CoCo shot her a quick glance before shifting her attention back to the road. “Do you think that's wise?”

Felicia bit back the retort, the one yelling
this is my life and I'll do whatever I want.
CoCo loved her and was concerned for her. Felicia couldn't blame her, really. For years, Felicia had been the stabilizing influence on the Trahan family, a job she'd never applied for but had just naturally stepped into after the death of her grandmother. Now, with her grandfather's death and great uncle's incarceration, everyone expected her to step up and handle things. Only one problem with the theory, she wanted to stand up for herself first.

“It's what I have to do, CoCo.”

“I understand, I really do, but maybe you should take a little time to consider your options. Maybe look into a different apartment complex, even. No one feels comfortable with you going back there since Jolie's killer is still roaming the streets.”

“Did Luc put you up to talking to me?”

Guilt seeped into every inch of CoCo's expression as she reddened. “He loves you.”

“I know. But this is something I have to do.” She fisted her right hand over her cane. “I can't give up the strides I've made in my independence. I won't.”

“I know, but we're concerned about your safety. There
is
a killer out there.”

Felicia gave a dry laugh. “Now you sound like Mother.” She shook her head. “Do you know she ranted for two whole hours about me not living alone? Like I'm twelve or something.” She paused, swallowing back the grief. “I'm just not ready to think about a roommate yet.”

“She's just worried. We all are,
Boo.”

“No need to worry about me more than anyone else. I'm not a cripple anymore, in case none of you have noticed.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Felicia could've bitten off her own tongue. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound so snappy. I'm just so tired of hearing the same old arguments. My mind's made up—I'm staying on my own.”

CoCo's lips pressed into a tight line.

She hadn't meant to offend CoCo, had only wanted to make it clear she could make decisions for herself. She glanced at her friend again. CoCo's knuckles were white as she gripped the steering wheel.

Felicia's jaw dropped.

“CoCo LeBlanc, is that an engagement ring on your finger?”

Jerking her left hand into her lap, CoCo nearly ditched the Jeep. She steadied the vehicle, a sheepish light glimmering in her eyes. “Uh…well…”

“My brother finally proposed again, yes?”

This time, CoCo's smile lit up the vehicle brighter than the February sun. “Yes. Three nights ago.”

“Three nights! And when did you plan on telling me?”

“We wanted to tell you the next day, but that's when…”

The
incident.
Jolie'd been murdered.

What a way to have an engagement overshadowed.

Felicia swallowed against a dry mouth. “This is wonderful. About time. You'll be my sister for real now. When's the big date? I hope y'all aren't planning a long engagement this time.”

“We were thinking of an April wedding.”

“Oh, that'll be beautiful.” Tears of joy sprang to Felicia's eyes. “I'm so happy for you. Took him long enough, yes?”

CoCo giggled—she actually let out a little girl titter. “I'd like an outdoor wedding in my yard. The azaleas and oleanders will be in full bloom—the magnolias too.”

“It'll be beautiful, I know it will.” Felicia fought not to think about the fact that her own wedding plans had been ripped apart before the bud had an opportunity to bloom.

“I'd hoped you'd be one of my bridesmaids.” CoCo darted her gaze from the road to focus on Felicia's face briefly.

“Oh, I'd be honored.” Felicia chewed the inside of her lip.

“Let's see, April. If I work harder in therapy, I might be able to lose the cane by then.”

“Don't push yourself. I just want you there.”

“You know I wouldn't miss this for anything. I've prayed and prayed for this day to come.”

“And our prayers have been answered.”

“Yes, they certainly have.”

But what about her prayers for happiness and protection for those she loved? Had she gotten a resounding “no” to those requests? First her grandfather, then her great-uncle, then Frank, and now Jolie. Would the cloud of death ever stop hovering over her head?

Afternoon sunlight bathed Lagniappe in a warm glow, despite the calendar's February date. Birds chirped, grasshoppers flicked about in the green grass. How wrong for nature to celebrate new life springing up in the blooms of redbud trees while Spencer had to honor a young life ended too soon. Where were the dark clouds and rolling thunder? Irony like this made him question his calling.

He jerked his gaze across the cemetery as Felicia limped toward the assembly of chairs. Luc and CoCo flanked her. Despite their assistance, her face was pale, making her ocean-clear eyes appear even bluer. His gut clenched.

Father, I don't understand, but I accept Your will. I know Felicia does, too, but she's hurting so badly. I pray for You to surround her with the peace and comfort only You can provide.

People milled about, talking in hushed tones. Spencer noticed several members of his congregation and operators from the crisis center. People who cared about Jolie Landry. Loved her. In contrast, both Sheriff Theriot and Deputy Anderson stood under the magnolia tree in the corner of the cemetery. Their heads turned each time someone walked past, plodding to the graveside. Their presence made pinpricks rise on the back of Spencer's neck.

Someone touched his elbow, snapping Spencer back to the task at hand.

“I got your message,” Jon Garrison said. Tall and dressed neatly in a suit, the man appeared more distinguished than he truly was.

Spencer darted his stare over the people taking seats. “Checking to see that I'm really where I said I'd be?”

“When you miss an appointment, even when you call in and notify the office, I feel compelled to follow up.”

Sweat stuck Spencer's shirt to his back. “I've never lied to you about my whereabouts.”

“Still gotta check things out. It's my job, you know?”

Spencer ground his teeth. He didn't need an interrogation today, of all days. He'd been reliving his past mistakes all by himself. Jon's appearance just magnified the situation.

“So, who died?”

“A young woman of my congregation. Worked for me at the crisis center, too.”

“Young, huh? What happened?”

“She was murdered.” Spencer couldn't help gazing at Felicia as he spoke the words.

She stared blankly at the coffin, her eyes shimmering. Luc's and CoCo's mouths moved, but Felicia gave no indication she heard anything. Truth be told, she looked like she'd fallen under some trance.

“Murdered? What's the deal?”

Spencer turned his attention back to Jon, struggling to disguise the contempt he had for the man who could pull Spencer's freedom out from under him. “Listen, I need to do
my
job now.” He gave a curt nod. “If you'll excuse me.”

People greeted him as he strode across the blanket of grass, but he had to touch Felicia's shoulder to get her to look him in the eye. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, her lips pressed tightly together.

Luc extended his hand. “Pastor.”

Spencer shook his friend's hand but kept his stare trained on Felicia. “Felicia, will you be able to do the eulogy?” He'd advised her not to, but she'd been persistent. Determined.

“I'll be fine.”

He glanced over the crowd before checking his watch. Time to start. He squeezed Felicia's shoulder in a way he hoped conveyed his reassurance, then headed back to the podium. He stared at the two policemen as they moved forward to stand at the back of the crowd. Both had their stares glued to the group of people.

Jon Garrison had moved to stand behind the crowd as well. Just what he didn't need—the lawmen questioning who Jon Garrison was. And why he had attended the funeral.

With a lump the size of a
pirogue
stuck in his throat, Spencer shucked off his unease. He cleared his throat and lifted the Bible.

“This is Felicia.” She adjusted the headset's microphone closer to her mouth.

“Uh, yeah. I don't know if you'll remember me. This is, uh, Winnie.” The woman's voice came out squeakier than Felicia recalled.

“Hello, Winnie. Of course I remember you. I'm so glad you called me back. I've been praying for you.” Felicia rose to her feet, her gaze floating over the crisis center to find Spence. He met her stare, then glanced away. She snapped her fingers and waved him to her desk.

“Yeah. Okay.”

“How're you doing?”

“I'm not so mad at that hussy anymore.”

“Really? That's great, Winnie.” She emphasized the woman's name as Spence moved beside her. “Much healthier for you.”

“Okay. If you say so. Anyways, it wasn't her fault. Not really.”

Progress. At least it was a step in the right direction.

“I'm glad to hear you've let go of your anger toward the woman.”