Cajun Magic 01 - Voodoo on the Bayou (22 page)

Cassandra was another story entirely. Trying to get rid of her was like a fly trying to shake sticky flypaper. Until she saw his sleeping quarters in the back of…as she put it…the ‘worm-infested bait shop,’ she’d actually thought she was going to sleep with him. Craig put his foot down and sent her back to Morgan City and the closest Holiday Inn with room service.

Alone.

Finally, he grabbed a phone and dialed Jason Littington. He had some business to conduct with the man. Never mind the clock read three a.m. Craig’s life was crashing down around him and he didn’t have time for pleasantries.

“Mr. Littington? This is Craig Thibodeaux.”

“Craig, why the heck are you calling me at this hour?”

“You got trouble, sir. If you don’t want to go to jail, meet me at my uncle’s bait shop, A.S.A.P.”

“What—”

“Just do it,” Craig ordered, his voice firm. “And come alone.”

Chapter Twenty-one

Elaine blinked at the sun streaking through the cottage window to her make-shift bed on the couch. Once again, she’d slept the morning away when she should have been working. Didn’t she have some frogs to dissect or specimens to investigate beneath her microscope?

She’d tossed and turned on the couch cushions until dawn, before finally drifting off. Her sleep hadn’t been any more restful. With Voodoo drums beating and ominous chanting filling her dreams, she felt as though she’d been offered up as a sacrifice in some pagan ritual only to be rejected. Even in her dreams she didn’t fit in.

What was it she was supposed to do today? Something big. She sat up and pushed the mass of tangled curls from her face and waited for her fuzzy head to clear. When it did, her empty stomach grumbled.

Or was that her empty heart?

Oh, yeah. The beautiful Cassandra had come to claim Craig, and now Elaine was packing to leave Bayou Miste.

If Cassandra was the type of woman he wanted, no way Elaine Smith could measure up. Nor did she want to. If she’d learned one thing over the past few days, she’d learned she couldn’t be who she wasn’t. She could improve on herself, but she couldn’t and wouldn’t change deep down. Hers was a case of ’love me as I am, or don’t love me at all.’

Unfortunately, Craig would choose the latter. Hell, he already had. Which was fine. He wasn’t the man she’d thought he was.

Why hadn’t he told her he was involved with Littington Refineries and trusted her either to understand or to give him a chance to explain? He hadn’t done that. Hadn’t trusted her. He’d strung her along to further his own interests, just as Brian had.

Well, who needed him, anyway?

You do.
The damn voice in her head sounded very much like the chanting she’d heard in her dreams.

A knock sounded at the door. Who could that be at this hour? She looked down at her Tweety-bird T-shirt and flannel boxer shorts. Whatever. With her new ’what you see is what you get‘ attitude, she opened the door.

Miz Mozelle stood there with her requisite basket full of sweet-smelling pastries and a smile bright enough to light the Chrysler building. “Howdy, neighbor. Thought you could use a little midday snack.”

“Oh, hi, Miz Mozelle.” Elaine opened the door. With all the enthusiasm of one marching to the guillotine, she turned and padded barefoot into the kitchen to start some go-juice in the coffee maker.

“What’s wrong, dear? Are you not feeling well?” Mozelle set the basket on the table and touched her hand to Elaine’s forehead. “No fever.”

“I’m fine.”

If you don’t count a broken heart.

“I heard ya’ll had some trouble out on the swamp last night.”

Elaine grimaced. “Good news travels fast around here.”

“I was by to see Joe earlier.” Mozelle blushed. “Needless to say, I was shocked to find him injured. And you, my dear, were you injured as well?”

“No, I wasn’t injured.”

Just my heart.

“Joe told me that Cassandra woman showed up lookin’ for Craig last night.” Mozelle peered closer at Elaine. “Is that what’s got your panties in a wad?”

Good news really did travel fast. She forced her tone to be light. “Why should it?”

“I know I’d be upset if I saw the man I was head over heels for huggin’ some other woman.”

Turning her back to Mozelle, she said, “I’m not head over heels for him. Who said I was?”

“
Cher
, your words say one thing, your face says another.”

She raised a hand to her cheek in defeat, and sank to the shiny red vinyl chair. “Oh this is awful. I can’t be in love with Craig Thibodeaux.”

Mozelle stood next to Elaine, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Sweet Pea, there’s nothing awful about lovin’ someone. It’s a gift.”

“A gift if the feeling is returned, a curse if it isn’t.” She laid her head on the table. “He wouldn’t want my love, even if I offered it up with a free sports car.”

“How do you know if you don’t ask?”

“
Ask?
Miz Mozelle, if you’d seen that woman… Hell, I couldn’t compete with her. She’s perfect, and I’m…” She glanced down at her faded Tweety T-shirt, lifted a tangled curl. “I’m just me.”

“Maybe that’s what Craig wants. He’s lived in New Orleans all his life surrounded by everything money has to offer. You have something he can’t buy.”

“I do?” She looked up hopelessly. “Like what?”

“You have genuine compassion and a heart worth takin’ a risk for.” Mozelle grabbed her hands and stared into her eyes. “Honey, you’re real. From what Joe told me, Cassandra wouldn’t know love if it hit her smack-dab in her chemically and surgically enhanced face.”

“It’s no use, Miz Mozelle, I don’t belong here. I need to go back where I do.”

“You gonna tuck your tail between your legs and run?” The older woman’s lips thinned. “I thought you had more gumption than that. What did I tell you about fighting for your man?”

“He’s not my man,” Elaine softly wailed. “I don’t even know who he is. He knew I wanted to stop the pollution, yet he didn’t tell me he represents the man who’s causing it! We have nothing in common. Nothing.” She turned her back to Miz Mozelle, fighting a losing battle to keep the tears from falling. First one slid down her cheek, followed by another, and before too long, a steady stream dripped off her chin.

An arm draped over her shoulder, and the older woman pulled her close. “You got the most important thing in common, sweetie. You got love. Everything else can be worked out.”

Steeling herself from the warmth and comfort Miz Mozelle offered, Elaine stiffened and pulled away. “No, we don’t, and no it can’t.”

“That boy loves you. I saw how he looked at you at the Raccoon Saloon the other night.”

“That wasn’t love.” She smacked her palm against the table. “What you saw was an ordinary case of lust.”

“Not the way he stuck up for you. I really, truly believe he cares. He just doesn’t always know how to show it. Besides, it’s just like a man to be stubborn and bullheaded about sharin’ his feelin’s. You can’t expect the impossible. Why, look at me. I’ve waited the past ten years for Joe to notice I exist. Ten years too long. Sometimes you gotta take matters into yer own hands.”

Elaine scrubbed the back of her hand over her eyes. “I can’t, Miz Mozelle. I just can’t.”

The older woman tapped a toe against the wooden floor. “So, that’s it? Yer just gonna high-tail it out of here without a goodbye, by yer leave, or kiss my grits?”

“Yes.” Elaine grabbed a tissue and blew. “The sooner the better.”

“What about the pollution? Who’ll make sure they stop?”

“I’ll call the EPA and give them the information I know over the phone. Joe can show them where we found the barrel.”

Miz Mozelle wrapped her arms around her middle and shuffled to the window, her shoulders hunched, appearing older than she had since Elaine had known her. “What about the friends you made here? Dontcha think we’ll miss you?”

“Oh, Miz Mozelle.” Elaine crossed the floor and pulled the other woman into a tight hug. “I’m going to miss you, too.” She fought against the tears choking her vocal chords. “You can come see me in New Orleans.”

“Don’t have much call for goin’ to the Big Easy. They drive too fast for my likin’.”

“You could get Josie to bring you.”

“Don’t know that I like how fast she drives either,” Mozelle said.

“But you’ll do it?” Elaine held her at arm’s length. The woman’s answer meant more to her than she thought possible in the few short days they’d known each other. “Won’t you?”

“Sure,
cher
. I’ll come see you. But I still think you ought to reconsider and give Craig a chance to explain. You haven’t, have you?”

“I can’t. I have to go home.”

Mozelle hugged her close, patting her back like a child. Then she set her away and lifted her apron to wipe the tears from her eyes. “
Mais
, I guess there’s not much else I can do to talk you out of it.”

“No, there’s not,” Elaine said, mist fogging her eyes. “In fact, if I’m to get on the road before dark, I’d better start packing.”

Miz Mozelle squeezed her tight once more. “I’m gonna miss you, Elaine Smith. You’ve been a little ray of sunshine in Bayou Miste. I hate to see you leave.”

“Thanks,” she said over Miz Mozelle’s shoulder, “for being my friend.”

Miz Mozelle broke free, scrubbed a hand across her face and looked around. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I think I’d rather be alone to pack.” If she didn’t leave soon, Elaine would be blubbering all over again. Who’d have thought in the little bitty town of Bayou Miste, she’d have found such a good friend in a woman old enough to be her mother?

“If you’re sure, I’ll just go check on Joe.” Mozelle’s mouth lifted at the corners. “I think that ornery ol’ coot likes playin’ sick.”

Elaine forced a smile for her friend’s happiness. “Go on, he needs you.”

She only wished Craig needed her
.

After Miz Mozelle left, Elaine dragged boxes out into the living room and tossed in books, papers, and pencils. When she got to her microscope, she hesitated, recalling the night Craig had held her after the house had been ransacked. At the time, she’d felt cherished and cared for. Craig had made love to her all night, his touch gentle, and his passion equal to her own.

Had it all been an act?

She set the microscope on the table and looked around for newspaper to wrap it.

“Leaving?” a feminine voice asked from behind her.

Elaine spun to face the infamous and infinitely beautiful Cassandra. Her empty stomach rumbled loud enough for the other woman to hear, and she tamped down the urge to run screaming from the room.

The other woman wore a finely woven silk skirted suit with dyed-to-match strappy sandals. Every one of her straight blond hairs was pulled back and secured in a neat French chignon. Not a stray tendril dared escape and destroy the perfect symmetry.

Elaine closed her eyes to keep from heaving air from her hollow belly. Tweety-Bird still hung like an old rag from her shoulders over her flannel boxers, the hem of which had given up threads to the washing machine monster years ago. What she wanted to do was crawl under the nearest paper bag and ignore the world.

Unfortunately, hiding was not an option. Elaine opened her eyes and plastered a smile on her face as if Cassandra’s visit was no big deal. “Oh, hi. You’re Cassandra, aren’t you?” Elaine held out her hand.

Cassandra ignored her hand and her question, and let her gaze run the length from Elaine’s disastrous hair to her bare feet. “I had to come meet the woman everyone’s been talking about.”

“Me?” Elaine squeaked.

“Since ten this morning, I’ve had no less than four visitors and at least two threatening phone calls, warning me to stay away from Craig and someone called Elaine. That is you, isn’t it?”

“You have?” Elaine’s vocabulary escaped her. What was going on?

“Some man named Mo even threatened to turn his pet alligator loose in my hotel room.”

Mo? Elaine barely knew Mo. Why would he be warning Cassandra off Craig? “I don’t understand.” Elaine ran a hand through her hair.

“I don’t either, especially since Craig called me last Saturday, begging me to come all the way from New Orleans to this godforsaken swamp.” Cassandra glanced around the interior of the cottage with distaste. “Craig mentioned he had something important to ask me and he needed me down here as soon as possible.” She held up a hand and studied her coral-tipped fingernails.

“And it took you three days to get here?” Elaine could have pulled her tongue out and stomped all over it. Why should she care how long it took Cassandra to come to Bayou Miste after Craig’s call?

Had Craig phoned Elaine with the promise of asking an important question, she sure as hell wouldn’t have waited three days to mosey her way down to the bayou. She’d have broken speed limits in every parish from New Orleans to the center of the Atchafalaya Basin.

Elaine’s heart sank at what that important question had to be.

“Although Craig came here under the pretext of business, I figured he was here to contemplate the next step in our relationship, and maybe to—” Cassandra’s gaze flicked to her, “—sow a few wild oats.”

Elaine gasped at the blatant slam. Try as she might, she couldn’t halt the flood of heat to her cheeks as she recalled the wild oats they’d, indeed, sown together. Irritation quickly followed embarrassment, and she forced her chin up. “Are you quite finished inspecting the oat fields? If so, I have work to do.”

As she studied Elaine, the luscious blonde’s eyes narrowed, a considering gleam sparkling in their depths. “You’re a bit more intelligent than his usual flings. He has a hit-and-run reputation, but make no mistake, he always comes back to me.”

Elaine flinched. Craig had said he wasn’t the commitment type. Was Cassandra the reason? “Whatever you say.”

A carefully plucked eyebrow quirked over clear gray eyes. “You didn’t think he’d stay with you, did you?”

Cassandra’s words hit like a punch to the gut. “Look, if you’ve come to gloat, save your breath. Craig means nothing to me.” Elaine swallowed the lump rising in her throat at the lie. “Now, if you don’t mind, I really have work to do.”

“You’re making the right decision to leave. Craig and I have an understanding, and once we’re married, I’m sure his little indiscretions will end.” The bitch drew in a deep breath and blew it out. Then, with a cardboard smile, she stuck out her hand. “Ellen, it’s been…interesting. I’ll show myself out.”

Staring at the proffered hand, Elaine kept hers at her side. “Don’t let the door slam.”

Cassandra’s smile slipped, she dropped her hand and swung her purse over her shoulder. Her bag caught the microscope perched on the edge of the table and sent it flying to the floor. The device landed with a crash, with the distinct sound of broken glass.

“Damn!” Elaine cried.

The demolition woman responsible for smashing her heart turned and stared down her nose at her cherished microscope. “Did I do that?” She waved her fingers dismissively. “Just send the bill to Craig. He won’t mind, we’ll have joint accounts soon enough.”