Bayou Justice (19 page)

Felicia's wheelchair sat next to the couch, on the other side of his mother. He worried about her. She'd cried at the funeral, but Frank had consoled her. Too bad Frank couldn't be here now.

Uncle Justin sat in Grandfather's recliner, his face ruddy, his expression serious. He'd sobbed at the funeral, too, but in a manly sort of way. Luc couldn't imagine losing a sibling— he'd be devastated if something happened to Felicia. The thought of her recurring medical bills flashed across his mind. Maybe Grandfather had a stipulation in his will for her continued medical care. He prayed it was so.

Sammy Moran? What was he doing here? The acting casino manager sat stiff-backed in one of the chairs facing the desk. He'd shed no tears at the funeral. Matter-of-fact, he hadn't shown one iota of emotion period. Luc couldn't believe his grandfather would have left him something.

A couple of old dogs, as Grandfather had called them, reclined in chairs brought in from the living room. Luc couldn't put names to faces, but he recognized most of them from Grandfather's politician days.

Finally, Bubba Theriot stood in the back of the room, his arms crossed casually over his chest, but his eyes as sharp as a hawk's. Luc's gut clenched. Bubba probably assumed the murderer stood to gain something from Grandfather's death. Luc swallowed hard. He hoped his grandfather hadn't left him much of anything.

CoCo plopped down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. The fan rotated clockwise, humming at the high speed. Something felt off inside her spirit, as if peace hid from her. What was it? What was she missing? She closed her eyes and replayed everything since Beau's murder like a movie rewinding frame by frame.

Being served the eviction notice had to be triggered by Beau finding out about the coins hidden here in the house. Hiring Dwayne as her attorney. Finding the body—she fast forwarded over that segment. The sheriff's visit, followed by Luc's. A small shiver crossed her spine. She shoved away the distraction of Luc's handsome face and returned to her thoughts. Meeting with Dwayne and giving her statement to the police. Luc's apology. She smiled, but pinched her eyes shut tighter. Discovering the letters and then the picture in the attic.

Her heart thumped, and she bolted up on the bed. She widened her eyes while her mind reeled.

Dwayne had said he'd been investigating Beau. Of course, she knew now that was in regard to his sister. If he'd been digging into the past, maybe, just maybe, he knew something about Justin's involvement with the KKK. She could get a lead on who had written the letter found in Beau's things.

Moving to the edge of the mattress, CoCo lifted the phone receiver on the bedside table. She punched in the number for Dwayne's office, realizing he'd probably gone straight home after the funeral, but determined to try anyway. After three rings, she got his voice mail. Apparently Dwayne had a life. Imagine that. She left a message and hung up the phone. A couple more days and she could ask. It might be a long shot, but right now, anything was better than what they had to go on…nothing.

She looked up to find Tara hovering in the doorway. “Problems?”

“Nothing I can't handle.” CoCo sighed and moved to the vanity table. She lifted her makeup remover. “How're you?”

“I'm fine and dandy.” Tara flopped on the bed. “How was the funeral?”

“Standard funeral.” She daubed the lotion on her eyes with a tissue.

“I see.”

She finished removing the mascara and eyeliner, then stared at her sister in the mirror. “Hey, you know Toby?”

“The kid who does stuff around here?”

“Yeah. That's him. I know he lives with Ms. Mason. Do you know his last name?”

Tara twirled a lock of hair around her finger. Oh, what CoCo wouldn't give to have straight hair like her sister's.

“That's his grandmother. I don't know him by anything other than just Toby. Why?”

CoCo shrugged and then wiped her face with a moist cloth. “I saw him at the funeral today. He mentioned something about his father.”

“I didn't even know he had a father on the scene. He's always with his grandmother. Why so curious?”

Again, CoCo shrugged. Tara was entirely too astute for her own good. No sense raising her suspicions. “I asked him to come around to do some more light repairs. I just thought I'd call him and follow up.”

“Grandmere has the number on the icebox.”

She tossed the cloth in the trash, thankful to have the makeup gone. Her face couldn't breathe under all that gunk.

“How was Luc?”

CoCo turned and faced her sister. “Good.” She licked her lips. “Considering.”

S
omething was wrong, very wrong. She could tell. The restaurant's soft glow added a mysterious ambiance, not that she didn't already feel something uneasy settling over their table. CoCo sat across the table from Luc, dreading whatever it was he had to tell her.

Please, God, don't let him try to persuade me to give us a second chance. I know I should just pray for Your will, but I love him. Always have, always will. And I'm not strong enough to withstand him breaking my heart a second time.

Her mind knew God had her best interests at heart, but she really wanted to be able to resist the temptation Luc brought to her door.

“You're beautiful.” Luc's eyes caressed her as softly as his spoken words.

Heat marched across her face and she could only imagine the blush, but she just blinked and stared back at him.

He chuckled. “You are. Even when you're turning four shades of red.”

She laughed and lowered her gaze.

“I need to tell you something.”

CoCo's heart skipped a beat. All traces of laughter fled from his voice. She swallowed hard.

“In the reading of the will today…” His words trailed off.

Her gut knotted. She'd only eaten a couple of pieces of bread and a salad, yet her stomach felt loaded with lead. “Yeah?”

He wouldn't meet her eyes. Her heart joined the lead in her stomach.

“Grandfather left the deed to your property to Uncle Justin. And the lawyer assured me that it's legit. The transfer of ownership was just never filed.”

She didn't have much fight left in her. “I guess that's the way the coons run.”

Now his gaze did touch hers. “The only issue is the delay of transferring of ownership filing. That's what Dwayne will argue in court to try and sway the judge to let you keep your house.” He took a sip of tea. “CoCo, Uncle Justin's going to evict you if the court decides in his favor. I asked him. Tried to talk him into just letting things go on as is. He doesn't need your house, but he wants it. Says he owes it to Grandfather to carry out what he started.”

Fury coursed through her veins faster than her airboat over the bayou. She spoke between clenched teeth. “I told you he didn't like me.”

“Aww, CoCo, it's not that. I don't know. He's got a bee in his bonnet to get your house.” He reached across the table and laid his hand over hers. “He was adamant.”

Chewing her bottom lip, she recalled the look in his eyes at the funeral. She hadn't detected hate after Luc had stood up for her. It was more like…fear. Yes, that was it. Something about her scared Justin Trahan. Or, could it be…

“Luc, did you tell Justin about the picture we found in my attic? Or the coins?”

“No. I didn't think the funeral would be the right time or place.”

“Right. What if he knew that picture was up there? Wouldn't he want it back, so that nobody would know about his involvement? Could he have been the one to find out about the coins? And knowing about the picture, pushed Beau into serving us with an eviction?”

“Why would he care? Unlike Grandfather, Uncle Justin has never given a flip about his reputation.” Luc gave a wry laugh. “Matter of fact, he enjoys having people talk about him.”

“Hmmm.” He had a point. Justin's past wouldn't come up and bite him, not like Beau's. Why would it have bothered him? She sighed. It wouldn't have. Unless…

“Luc, is it possible someone's blackmailing Justin?”

“What?”

She held up a finger. “Just follow me, here. Beau gets the letter we found, threatening to expose him. What if the author of the letter went further? Sent another letter, one demanding money?” CoCo leaned over the table with its pristine white tablecloth, her words practically tumbling on top of themselves. “If that person threatened your grandfather, why not Justin, too?”

He ran his fingertip over the lip of the glass. “Uncle Justin wouldn't care.”

“Unless they threatened to expose his past to hurt his brother. Wouldn't that have fired up Justin? Someone using his past to hurt Beau?”

Luc pressed his lips together and his eyes widened. He gave a slow nod.

“So, if someone tried to blackmail both him and Beau, it stands to reason Justin would want the house to get those pictures.”

“But,” Luc shook his head, “now that Grandfather's dead, Uncle Justin could care less about his past coming out in the open. There'd be no point in blackmailing him anymore. So why is he still bound and determined to evict you?”

And therein his statement laid the flaw in her scenario. “I don't know.” She chewed her bottom lip.

“What's going through that beautiful head of yours?”

“The teenager who does yard work for us found one of the coins. Grandmere told him he could keep it. He said his father's boss bought it for twenty bucks and offered to buy any more he found.”

Luc narrowed his eyes. “When did you find this out?”

“At the funeral. The young man I was talking to just before you saw Dwayne.”

He pressed his lips together and then shook his head. “I can't place the kid.” He let out a puff of air. “Who does his father work for?”

“His father's never been in his life before, as far as I know. He lives with his grandmother. Maybe the father just got back in town or something. I don't know, but I intend to find out. Soon.”

“How does this figure with Justin still planning on evicting you?”

“What if he knows about those coins in my house? And that's why he wants possession of it.”

“I don't know. I'll try to find out.” He squeezed her hand tighter. “We'll figure it out. Something's gotta give.”

“I hope so. The sooner the better.”

The waitress delivered their plates of
étouffée.
The enticing aroma of crawfish and cayenne wafted to CoCo's senses, and she discovered she did have an appetite after all. The waitress refilled their glasses with sweet tea, then left them alone. Luc said grace over their food and then they began to eat.

The night air crackled with heat from the squelching Louisiana temperatures—or the emotional bond between them. Luc couldn't tell. He did know one thing for sure— he wanted to spend the rest of his earthly life with CoCo LeBlanc. Now that he knew she was a Christian, well, there wasn't really anything keeping them apart. Except that she didn't trust him anymore. He had only himself to blame for that. He should have had more faith that God would call CoCo to Him.

In his mind's eye, he could already see their wedding. Their home together. Their children. It was enough to make him push down the lump in his chest. He would work on winning his way back into CoCo's heart.

He opened the SUV door for CoCo, and she slipped inside. His heart ached as he rounded the vehicle and got behind the wheel. Not much longer, and he could concentrate on their relationship. On
them
. “Do you mind if I just drop you off at your house?”

“O-okay.” Her eyes went wide and surprise teased the irises.

He laughed. “A lot of what you supposed tonight made sense. I'd like to talk to Uncle Justin, ask him about the picture and hear what he says. Also, see if I can find out if he knows about the coins.”

“And you can't do that with me there?”

He didn't want to hurt her. “I just think Uncle Justin will feel more comfortable if I go alone.”

“I understand.” She worried her bottom lip.

“I'll call you and let you know what I uncover.” He grabbed her hand and brought her fingers to his lips. He planted a light kiss against the tips.

She jerked her hand back to her lap and sat in stony silence.

After pulling into her driveway, he shifted to look at her. “I'll call you.”

She smiled and jumped out of the vehicle. He watched her climb the stairs and open the screen door. She tossed him a wave before ducking inside.

He let out a long breath. Backing up, Luc turned around and drove in the direction of his uncle's house—where, hopefully, he'd get some answers.

“CoCo, is that you?” Tara bellowed from upstairs.

No, it's the Ghost of Christmas Past. Who else would be coming into the house?
“Yeah, it's me.”

“You missed Alyssa's call.” Tara hovered at the top of the stairs, her menacing glare caught by the overhead light. “She was ticked.”

“Hmm, I imagine.”
Ticked
was probably a mild word to describe Alyssa's reaction to her not being home.

Tara took the steps two at a time. “I think she's overexaggerating like she normally does, but she's threatening to come down next weekend.”

CoCo refused to voice the groan caught on her tongue. She set her purse on the buffet and faced her sister. “Where's Grandmere?”

“She went to bed early. Seemed upset.” Tara narrowed her eyes at CoCo. “You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?”

“She found out something about Grandpere last night that upset her, but she seemed fine this morning.”

“What'd you say, CoCo?” Tara popped her hands on her slim hips, one of which she cocked out.

“I didn't say anything. I just showed her a picture and something he'd written I'd found in the attic. In Grandpere's things.”

“What kind of picture? I didn't know we had anything up there except for Mom and Dad's stuff.”

Just hearing their names scraped against CoCo's heart. She licked her lips. “There're two trunks that were Grandpere's. Photo albums and such.”

“Grandmere has all the photos down here.” Tara waved her hand toward the bookshelves lining the living room. Several scrapbooks and photo albums lined the bottom shelves, and framed photos cluttered every free space.

“No, these are ones that were private to Grandpere. Grandmere didn't even know about them—only that the trunks were there.”

“About what? Just tell me, yes?”

“Grandpere and Luc's great-uncle were in the Klan together.”

Tara gasped. “No way!”

“It's true. We found a picture.”

“I want to see.” Tara's bottom lip protruded.

CoCo weighed her decision. If she refused, Tara would simply explore the attic as soon as she was alone. “Come on. I need to see if there's anything else up there of any importance.” She and Luc had cut their search short before going through both of the trunks completely.

Tara smiled, eagerness and curiosity battling in her eyes.

Up the folding stairs they trekked, dust stirring as they moved. Tara sneezed, but shrugged off CoCo's
God bless you
. At least the window remained open so some fresh air drifted in. CoCo made her way to the trunk Luc had been going through. “Here's what we didn't finish looking through.”

Together they knelt and began pulling items from the trunk. A bundle of letters tied with an old piece of twine fell apart as soon as Tara touched it. She looked at CoCo. “I didn't break it.”

CoCo smiled. “I know you didn't. It's so old it's disintegrating.” She peered at the top envelope. “Can you make out what they are?”

“Let me see.”

While Tara gently tugged yellowed paper out, CoCo turned her attention back to the trunk. She pulled out a cigar box. She lifted the lid and smelled the distinct aroma of Cuban cigars, the kind Grandpere had smoked for as long as she could remember. Her lips curled into a smile at the memory. Peering inside, she found buttons and….

Two Confederate coins.

She lifted them, held them in her hand. They felt just like all the others. Grandpere had known the coins were here. Her heart faltered. And they were connected to the Klan, just as the legend had said. She pushed them aside and lifted a photo that was turned facedown.

Tara glanced over, tears streaking her face.

“What is it?” CoCo set the box on the floor.

“There are love letters between Mom and Dad.” She shook her head, then wiped her nose on her sleeve. “They were really and truly in love with each other.”

CoCo hugged her sister. “I know,” she whispered. She gave Tara a final squeeze and backed away.

Tara sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve. “I want to finish reading them.”

“Okay. I want to read them when you're done.” She went back to the cigar box sitting on the dust-covered floor and lifted the photo again. In the dim light, she couldn't make out the photograph's subject. CoCo held the photo up close to the single lightbulb.

Her heart stalled. Bumps pimpled her arms. The hairs on the back of her neck stood tall and erect.

“Oh, no,” she whispered.

She glanced over to her sister, totally emerged in love letters from the past. CoCo swallowed and stared at the picture again.