Rebel Without a Cake (28 page)

“He didn't know how to listen to anybody else,” Junior said. “He didn't know how to compromise. He didn't know how to change his mind. Once he made a decision, he stuck with it.”

“Except his marriage and family,” I said. “He changed his mind about them.”

Junior laughed. “Shows what you know. He didn't change his mind about them, it just never occurred to him that going off and living in the swamp for twenty years was abandoning his family.” He shot a look at me and his smile slipped off his face.

“Did you plan to kill him, or did you just see an opportunity and go for it?”

“I went there to talk sense into him,” Junior said. “I told him we could do great things together. I told him we could put the land together and make the biggest charter company in the state. We could have made money hand over fist. But he wouldn't listen. Silas
never
listened.”

“He told you no?”

“He told me to leave and never come back. He told me he'd been watching me with Kale and he was angry that I'd stepped up to take his place.” Junior snorted a harsh laugh. “Like
he
was any kind of a father to the kid.”

“He'd been trying to talk to Kale since your mother died. Did you know that?”

“Oh, yeah. I saw the two of them together that night. But that kid's a chip off the old block. He won't listen to anybody either.”

“Silas was trying to tell Kale about your mother's will?”

“Silas was trying to warn him not to work with me. He thought I was using Kale. I gave my life to that kid, and Silas tried to ruin everything!”

“And that's why you killed him?”

“I killed him because he deserved to die. Somebody had to do it.”

“I know he did a lot of damage,” I said. “He hurt people. He abandoned his family. He broke his mother's heart. He stole from his neighbors, taking the fish they caught and the animals they trapped right under their noses. I never even met him and I know he did bad stuff. But we don't get to decide who lives and dies.”

Junior didn't give me a direct answer. “My father worked himself to death trying to make this family one that other people would respect. I've broken my back to do the same. Silas? He didn't give a rip. He killed a man we all considered a friend. He stole a family secret.”

“The still?”

“That's not what we do out here,” Junior ranted. “We watch out for each other. We help each other.”

And apparently kill each other
, but I kept that observation to myself.

“He called me stupid,” Junior said. “He. Called
me.
Stupid! He lived like a damn pauper out there. He gave up everything and turned his back on everybody, and my mother still loved him best.”

I didn't know if that was true or not, but that didn't matter. Junior believed it, and it had become his reality. It would take someone with greater skills than mine to make him see the world differently.

We were close to town by then so I started watching for my chance to get away. Moving surreptitiously, I put my hand on the car door and felt around for the handle. We reached the junction and I planted my feet, prepared for Junior to slow down so I could jump.

He rounded the corner so fast we rocked up on two wheels. I thought we were going to flip, but the truck righted itself and the two airborne tires slammed onto the pavement. My teeth snapped together and I bit my tongue. It hurt, but I was more upset at the realization that Junior wasn't going to slow down.

He stomped on the gas and the truck shot forward again. He was focused on the road in front of us and I knew it was now or never. A few miles to the north he'd run into a patchwork of roads that spiraled off in a dozen different directions. If I let him get that far, nobody would ever find him—or me.

I didn't let myself think about what I was doing or how risky it was. Bringing my feet up, I twisted in my seat and kicked his arms as hard as I could. He lost his grip on the pistol and it clattered to the floor. I kicked again and the steering wheel jerked to the left. The truck careened dangerously as Junior tried to regain control. I didn't dare change tactics. Even a few seconds could make a difference between living and dying.

While I tried to keep him off balance, Junior struggled to get control of the truck. He lashed out at me with his fist, but I didn't let the pain distract me. He didn't have the gun, and that's what mattered.

I leaned against the door for leverage and tried to kick harder. I aimed for his shoulder, his hands, and his legs, always going for a different body part to keep him from anticipating my next move. Several times, I almost fell off the seat, but I managed to hold on until we rounded a sharp curve a little north of town.

Junior swore and stomped on the brakes, and this time I did lose my balance. I landed on the gun and scrambled to pick it up as the truck screeched to a halt. Junior fumbled to shift into reverse as I climbed back on the seat and put the gun right up against his head. “If this truck moves another inch,” I warned, “I swear to God I'll shoot you.”

Beneath the sound of blood rushing through my veins, I thought I heard voices. Dimly, I became aware of someone outside the window. I blinked to clear my vision and realized that red and blue lights were swirling on the edge of my peripheral vision.

Georgie threw open the truck door and yanked Junior out of his seat. Two other deputies shouted for him to get down on the ground and put his hands over his head. At least I think that's what they were saying. My teeth began to chatter and my hands to shake. And very gently, Georgie took the gun from my hand and put it somewhere out of my reach.

I didn't get the whole story for days, but Eskil had realized almost immediately that the truck he'd put me in had disappeared. I don't know where he went to make the call, but somehow he'd alerted Georgie to the danger I was in.

She was only a few miles from Baie Rebelle at the time, and based on my claim that I'd solved the murder, she'd brought backup. They'd set up a roadblock and the rest was history.

We stayed with Aunt Margaret that night and drove back to New Orleans the next day. On the way back, I finally talked to Miss Frankie about Christmas. She was shocked that I'd been so nervous to bring it up with her. And since
she
hadn't been pulled in a dozen different directions for days in a row, she was able to come up with a solution so logical it had eluded me: I'd be far too busy to go away in December anyway, so why not go home for Thanksgiving week?

Duh!

I thought even Uncle Nestor would be okay with that. (Especially since it turned out that the fee to change the ticket wasn't too steep, thank goodness.)

To my surprise, Miss Frankie even agreed to have Pearl Lee help her host the family dinner at Christmas. The only thing she asked was that I show up. With Pearl Lee on the organizing committee, I'd be there with bells on.

Aunt Yolanda was beside herself with joy at the prospect of having me home even sooner than expected, and for a whole week. She really didn't care when I came. So now that the decision was made and the new airline ticket bought and paid for, I could finally let myself get excited.

I'll never know whether or not I would have pulled the trigger that day. Sometimes I want to think I would have, and other times I assure myself that I could never take a life. What I do know is that there's no absolute right or wrong when you're in a life-and-death situation. Fight or flee. Cooperate or get in the way. Scream or stay quiet. You do what you have to do. Nobody else gets to judge your decision.

I'd taken one look at Miss Frankie's face after my brush with death and realized all over again how foolish I'd been to doubt her feelings for me. She'd told me more than once that she considered me family. She'd assured me over and over again that she loved me. It was my own insecurities that had taken over and made me doubt the evidence right in front of my eyes. I needed to do a better job of getting my personal demons under control. If my time in Baie Rebelle had taught me nothing else, it had taught me that.

*   *   *

Two days and one trip to the doctor later, I walked into the design room at Zydeco and found everyone sitting around a couple of silver tables. I'd been looking for Edie for several minutes, but I hadn't been able to find her anywhere. Mystery solved. She was there, wearing a pumpkin costume over her bulging belly, and glaring at me from a stool at Ox's table. Ox and Isabeau were dressed as Batman and Robin, Estelle had turned herself into Lucille Ball for the day, Dwight wore camouflage and had let his beard grow so that he resembled one of the locals from Baie Rebelle, although I was pretty sure he was aiming for one of the Robertson boys from
Duck Dynasty.
Sparkle wore a vampire costume that I think came out of her own closet.

I stood in the doorway for a minute, pleased with the cheerleader costume I'd thrown together at the last minute and half expecting them all to leap out of their seats and shout, “Surprise!” It took a while for me to realize that wasn't going to happen.

“What's going on?” I asked when nobody spoke. “What's everybody doing back here? We have work to do. Ox, you and I are meeting with Evangeline Delahunt tomorrow and we have a lot to get ready before then. Dwight, aren't you supposed to be working on the Holt retirement cake?”

Someone in the back of the room stood up and moved toward me. He was tall. Solid. Six feet or so of good ol' boy charm, dressed as a plainclothes police officer—only that was no costume. What was Sullivan doing here?

“Sit down, Rita,” he said. “Your friends asked me to come here today because they're concerned about you.”

I laughed uncomfortably and held out my arms so they could all get a good look. “I'm
fine
, okay? I barely got a scratch. Junior Laroche is in jail facing so many charges he'll probably never go free.” This was only about the hundredth time I'd said the same thing since I came back from Baie Rebelle, but they all seemed determined to doubt me.

Sullivan kept walking, and for the first time I noticed that Gabriel was also there, sitting in the corner. His face was solemn, his eyes a cloudy brown.

“You're not fine,” Sullivan said. “In the space of a few days you were in an accident that totaled your Mercedes, almost got caught in a house fire, got shot at, and were kidnapped. Have I left anything out?”

A few mumbles rose up from my so-called friends (and I use that term loosely). I laughed and looked around the room in disbelief. “Cut it out, you guys! You all look so serious, but you can't stage an intervention wearing Halloween costumes! Gabriel, quit glaring at me. And you, Sullivan. You're just being creepy.”

“This isn't a joke,” Estelle said. Her round cheeks turned pink and her full red-lipped mouth curved into a frown so deep it touched one of her chins. “You have to stop doing this. One of these days you're going to come back dead.”

I grinned at her phrasing. “Well, actually—”

“You know what she means,” Dwight said, cutting me off. “You're not a cop. You're not a private investigator. You can't keep putting yourself in danger.”

“Hey, look. I didn't want to get involved,” I told them. “I tried
not
to get involved. I would have been right here at work if I hadn't been in that accident.”

“Which you got into because you were following a murder suspect,” Isabeau pointed out.

“A minor point since he turned out to be innocent.” I turned away. “You all go ahead and have your fun. It was hilarious. But now I'm going back to work.”

Sullivan stepped in front of me. “It's not a joke,” he said softly. “They really are staging an intervention.”

“Well, that's just silly,” I said. “Will you all knock it off? We have too much work to waste time like this.”

Ox stood and started to say something, but at that very moment Edie let out a yowl and cut him off. She stared down at the pumpkin costume and tried to get a look at the floor. “My water just broke!”

“Nice try,” I told her. “It's not going to work this time.”

“No! I'm serious! Look!”

Isabeau was the only one who took the bait, but the look on her face after she checked the floor spurred everyone else to action. For the moment all of my transgressions were forgotten. If I was lucky, they'd all be so wrapped up in the baby once it got here, it would be a while before they remembered.

“Call River,” I told Sparkle when I realized that the baby was really and truly on its way. “Now!”

*   *   *

The baby came into the world that night at nine fifteen. I don't know if anyone else was surprised when River came out of the delivery room to tell us he had a son, but I sure was. I'd been almost certain the baby was a girl.

Maybe that's because I was still freaking out about the godmother thing. I knew nothing about babies, but I stood a remote chance of getting it right with a girl child. You could fit what I knew about boys on the head of a pin. A very small pin.

The hospital staff kept us all away until Edie had recovered enough for visitors. Sparkle was half crazy by the time they let her in to see her nephew. She and I went into Edie's room first, Sparkle as the baby's vampire aunt and me as his cheerleader godmother. I guess there were some perks.

Edie, relieved of her pumpkin costume, looked weak but happy and River just looked overwhelmed, but in a good way. He held the baby, but it was obvious that the baby already had his daddy wrapped around his little finger.

I kissed Edie's cheek and gave River a quick but awkward hug so I wouldn't hurt his little bundle of joy. “I can't believe he's really here,” I whispered. “Do you have a name yet?”

Edie shook her head and leaned back on her pillow. “Not yet. We haven't really talked about it.”

“John David,” River whispered.

Edie gave him a bleary one-eyed look. “What?”

“I'd like his name to be John David.”

“I love it,” Sparkle said. “It's perfect.”

Edie opened the other eye. “Don't I get a say in this?”

“Of course,” River assured her. “I just said that I'd like his name to be John David. If you don't like it, we'll find another one.”

Edie gave up a weary smile. “I never said I don't like it. It just came out of the blue, that's all. What's so special about John David?”

River kissed the baby's forehead and traced a finger along his cheek. “Nothing really. It's just the name I wanted for myself when I was a kid.”

I thought it was a nice name. I tried sending Edie a subliminal message not to turn this perfect moment into an argument. It must have worked, because she let out a soft sigh and said, “Sounds good to me. You're his father.”

After a while, River put John David in Sparkle's arms, and that's when I found out that the baby had miracle-working powers. The instant Sparkle touched her new nephew, she went through a remarkable transformation.

With one breath that baby tore off the bored goth mask Sparkle wore every day and exposed her for who she really was: a real live girl. I'd been privileged to catch glimpses of her in the past, beneath the pale makeup, the leather, and the spikes, but John David brought her out into the open. She laughed and cooed and even sang—which wasn't really her strong suit but John David didn't seem to mind.

And then it was my turn. River showed me what to do with my arms and explained about supporting the newborn's neck, then carefully settled the baby—my godson—in the crook of my arm and took a step back. The baby was heavier than I'd expected, but I thought I adjusted quickly. Then he stirred and I looked up at River in a panic. “I think you should take him back.”

“You're okay.”

“But what if I drop him?”

“You won't,” Edie said.

“I could,” I warned. “I could lose my grip on him. He could roll right out of my arms and land on the floor and get hurt.”

“You'll be fine,” River said and took another step away.

“But—”

John David made a mewling sound and I looked down at his perfect little face. And just like
that
I fell hopelessly in love. I'd just been blindsided again, but this time I didn't mind at all.