Forever, Alabama

by Susan Sands

  “He’s a politician. The only thing that keeps him from even considering that I’ve found someone else is his huge ego. I mean, how could I possibly desire a relationship with someone else when I could have a lying, cheating slimeball for a husband?”

  “He’s somewhat attractive, I’ll give him that,” Ben admitted. “In fact, I’d go so far as to say he and I share some similar features and coloring.” He pulled the car behind the house and parked in the super-secret fenced-in space that was completely undetectable from passersby.

  Sabine climbed out, grabbing her shoes from the backseat. “Are you suggesting that I’m attracted to you because you look like my estranged husband?” She was having a hard time not breaking out into a gut-busting guffaw. Ben was so different in every way than Richard that she couldn’t find a single similarity besides the fact they both had dark hair.

  “The thought had passed through, though I’m much better looking and slightly younger.”

  The laughter she’d been trying to hold in came tearing out.

  “What? It’s not that crazy of a thought.”

  “Richard is a weasel. I mean, his eyes are close together, and his nose is thin, and I was thrilled to see that his hair is beginning to thin, thank the Lord, because it’s such justice.” She continued to laugh at that thought. “He’s always believed himself so good-looking and irresistible. In fact, he pretty much let me know that I’d married up. It was a long time ago, but I’ll never forget it. He was drinking at the time.”

  “Wait just a damn minute. He treated you like you were the lucky one? I’m going to punch him in the nose.”

  “Oh, stop. No nose punching. That’s so tenth grade.”

  “I guess his hairline is thinning a little. But I think he more resembles a possum than a weasel.”

  They were both laughing as they entered the bed and breakfast.

  “Oh, just look at the two of you. So sweet and happy together,” Mrs. B said from the tiny desk inside the foyer. “I hope you’ve had a nice appointment this morning.” Her bespectacled eyes were bright and curious. Perhaps she was hoping for information.

  “It was productive, thanks, Mrs. Bergeron,” Ben said politely but his tone brooked no further questions.

  “Lovely,” Mrs. B said, her voice melodious.

  Ben’s stomach growled then. “How about we walk a few blocks for beignets and cafe au lait?” It was still somewhat early and not quite lunchtime.

  “Cafe Beignet is a bit of a walk, but it’s a nice day,” Mrs. B inserted.

  “I’m all for getting out and enjoying some fresh air. We can go up and change. I’ll definitely need some better shoes than these for walking.”

  “Perfect.” He motioned toward the stairs and Sabine led the way.

  Who knew they would have an opportunity to spend a little quality time enjoying the city while they were fighting the forces of evil?

  When they’d returned from their outing, full of beignets and coffee, Sabine said she’d like to lie down and rest for a bit. This was a relief to Ben. He needed to touch base with Steve and Lisa. They’d been in his ear and had heard everything Richard had said to Sabine this morning. He’d wanted them to understand the full picture of what they were dealing with. They’d also been yelling in his ear while they’d been trying to lose the car tailing them this afternoon. That hadn’t been easy to hide from Sabine. And he hated having to propagate the lie. He wished like everything he’d been straight with her from the beginning. She’d been through enough without finding out about his duplicity.

  “I’m going to head out to my truck and grab a file and make sure it’s locked up. I need to make a couple phone calls, so I’ll probably just sit outside in the courtyard in back while you rest.” Most of that was true, but he still felt like utter shit.

  He avoided conversation by putting his phone on his ear while heading through the lobby/foyer on his way outside. He raised his hand in a quick wave and smiled at their hosts.

  Ben headed around back where the small fragrant courtyard was in full bloom. There were two wrought iron benches that appeared to be older than him, but he figured they’d likely withstood a few category five hurricanes, so he should be good to go.

  Ben settled onto the bench. He’d grabbed a couple file folders from his truck for effect in case Sabine came outside. His subterfuge bothered him greatly, but he’d come this far and felt as if the end justified the means. In other words, better to be a little sneaky and have plenty of support to make certain Sabine came out of this situation safe and without being taken advantage of in her divorce agreement than the alternatives.

  He sat and dialed Steve’s number. “Where the hell have you been, man? We’re dying over here wondering what happened to the two of you. You kept cutting us out while you were driving back from the café. We only heard parts of what was happening.”

  “Sorry my communication has to be pretty one-sided. And if Sabine and I are having a private exchange, I’m turning you off. Obviously, she doesn’t know I’ve got y’all in my ear. All is well. She’s upstairs resting. I guess you heard that Howard handled the tail that Richard put on us to find out where Sabine is staying.” Ben had muted their conversation with the tiny button that peeked out the bottom of his shirt when he felt it was appropriate. He’d managed to slip a second device on when Sabine wasn’t looking this morning. This was going to be trickier than he’d thought.

  “We heard the parts you allowed us to. I hope that’s the only reason he had you tailed,” Steve said.

  “I’m just going to assume that’s why. Anything else would be pure speculation,” Ben said.

  “How’s Sabine holding up? Those were some pretty awful things Richard said to her this morning. She handled it like a champ,” Lisa said.

  Steve had put him on speaker.

  “She was a little concerned that she might feel some nostalgia at seeing him, but I think he mainly disgusted her instead, which, I have to say, relieved my mind.”

  “Can’t say I blame her. He sounds like a real slimeball,” Lisa said.

  “What’s the plan tomorrow night?” Steve asked.

  “I’ll drive her to the museum where the event is being held at seven o’clock. We’ll all be wired up and Sabine will have a tiny tracker in her shoe. That was Howard’s suggestion.”

  “I like it,” Lisa said. “A little extra protection.”

  “Since I’m her driver, I’ll be expected to stay outside the venue and out of the way. Security is tight during this event, so they’ll give me a pass to stay with the car, so at least I won’t have to be beyond the grounds. It’s not a perfect scenario, but I should be close enough to step in should Sabine need me.”

  “We’ll hang out at the nearest public area or coffee shop while the party is underway. Is there a public area or park nearby? We’ll do some research and figure out the closest proximity to the museum where we can be available at a moment’s notice, as well.” Steve and Lisa were staying at a nearby boutique hotel in the uptown area not far from Ben and Sabine’s location.

  “I don’t expect anything to go down, but I didn’t like his tone or his manner with Sabine this morning. It was almost as if he had no intention of letting her leave now that she’d come home. Maybe he believes he’s that persuasive,” Ben said.

  He heard the disgust in Lisa’s tone. “Has the man never met a woman with a mind of her own? It’s pretty clear just from what little I know about Sabine that she would never allow him to decide her future.”

  “There’s no way he can keep her here or make her stay married to him. We’re here to make sure that Richard doesn’t even have the opportunity to try anything underhanded. And we’ve got the advantage because he doesn’t know Sabine has that kind of support around her,” Ben said.

  “Neither does Sabine,” Steve said.

  “I’m planning to tell her after this is over and we make it back home with no trouble,” Ben said, his tone slightly defensive.

  “We know you wi
ll. And we’ll do everything in our power to persuade her that we talked you into this and that your intentions were only for her safety and concern. Oh, and that we bullied you into doing this to make us feel better about hurting you, and it’s our way of making amends and evening up the score for our guilt,” Steve said.

  “I doubt that explanation will prevent her smarting from the fact that he shared her personal information with us without her consent—knowing she asked him not to,” Lisa reminded her husband.

  “Sabine is coming. I’ll talk to you both tomorrow. Go to Pascal’s for barbeque shrimp. You can thank me later.” Ben hung up just as Sabine approached.

  She’d pulled up her long, dark hair in a clip of some sort, but strands of it still hung down around her face. She had no makeup on and wore flip-flops and a long T-shirt and yoga pants. She was a knockout.

  “Hey there. I just spoke to Steve.” Best to keep a shred of honesty about him. “Did you get a nap?”

  Sabine smiled, still looking a little sleepy. “A small one. It was very relaxing. I’m amazed at how pleasant this trip has been thus far, considering what we’re doing.”

  “I’ve had the same thought. We really don’t have anywhere we have to be until tomorrow evening. Do you want to make a dinner reservation and head down to the French Quarter and walk around?”

  Sabine grinned. “This is my town. I would love to show you around from a native’s perspective. But we won’t necessarily be going to the expected tourist traps.”

  Ben stood and opened his arms. “I’m all yours.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  By the time they’d fallen into bed last night, Ben could truly say he’d experienced the city of New Orleans in a way he never had before. Sabine had led him on an insider’s tour of small voodoo museums, graveyards, historic homes of people he’d never heard of, and even on a twilight swamp tour just over an old, narrow bridge spanning the Mississippi that made him never ever want to cross a body of water again.

  Sabine hugged the old Cajun who’d greeted them upon their arrival at what appeared to be a dilapidated pier on the edge of a swampy bayou. The old Cajun grinned at Sabine with such affection, it made Ben do a double-take. She introduced him as her parrain, which meant godfather in Cajun-speak. Ben had heard the term before, as he’d had a couple other friends from South Louisiana in college.

  This raised questions but also answered a few about why she, a city girl, would consider taking them out in his tiny aluminum boat with this old man and his .410-gauge shotgun. Ben questioned if this would be enough firepower should they need to fight off the gators they got within tooth-counting range of.

  There were water moccasins hanging in groups off the moss-laden trees. Ben had marveled that this place was only a half-hour outside of the city.

  “We’re surrounded by water on all sides. It shouldn’t be such a shock,” Sabine had said.

  She didn’t seem to be bothered by all the nature.

  Ben, who’d grown up around a mountain, man-made lake with no timber, and with furry animals more than reptiles, tried hard not to behave as if he worried how far the hospital was from their location and if the tackle box in the bottom of the boat held a snake-bite kit. And if anyone would hear their cries should the creature from the black lagoon make an appearance and swallow up the boat in the approaching darkness.

  They’d made it back to the bank without incident, but Ben wasn’t certain if all his manhood was still intact in Sabine’s eyes. He’d behaved a little squirrelly out there, he had to admit.

  When she climbed out of the boat, Sabine spoke to the elderly man quietly off to the side. She handed him some bills as payment. He grasped her hands in his and placed his forehead against hers. There was clearly a deep bond between these two.

  Ben shook the man’s hand again and expressed his gratitude for his skilled handling of the boat. “I’ve never been out in the swamp. It was quite an experience.”

  “Mais oui. You’ll do just fahn for our Sabine, here. You kept your screams inside, son. Had you yelled like a scaired little girl, I would have dumped you into the bayou.” Then her parrain cackled, a rusty sound, like he’d been saving it up for a long time and it was struggling to make its way out.

  “Parrain has a cabin not too far from here. My dad used to bring me out here when I was a little girl. He and Dad are half-brothers.”

  “Ah. That makes sense,” Ben said.

  And it did. Jean-Claude Prudhomme was native Creole all the way, from what Ben had found out when he’d done a little further research on the man. Ben had been curious about him when he’d found out he was Sabine’s father.

  “We should get back to the city if we want to hit the oyster house I have in mind,” Sabine said.

  “Ya’ll go on and get across dat devil bridge before it falls down, bien sur,” Parrain said.

  “I’ll have to agree with you on that, sir. My girl sounds are more likely to come out crossing that bridge than when we passed the snakes and alligators in the swamp,” Ben said.

  Sabine laughed. “You’ll have to close your eyes and let me drive.”

  “The hell I will. My truck is huge and takes up the entire lane. If you’re not used to driving something that big—” He shuddered.

  “Okay, big guy. Let’s get out of here so you don’t have to navigate it in full dark.” She turned to her godfather and her expression softened. “Thanks so much, Parrain. I’ll try to get back and see you soon. Now that Dad is up for parole, hopefully, everyone’s life will get back to some kind of normal again.”

  “How is your sister?” he asked.

  “She’s doing okay. Still very angry at Daddy for making such a mess of things. They were close, you know.”

  The man nodded, his sweat-stained straw hat appearing to be a part of his head. “Your papa changed when he got into politics. He wasn’t always like that, ma chere.”

  “I know. But it’s too late to fix what he’s broken now. We’ve got to move on with our lives now.”

  “And your husband, the cochon?”

  “Yes, he turned out to be a giant pig. And we’re here to persuade him to sign a divorce agreement. Ben is a lawyer.”

  “Not a politicien?” The man gave Ben a suspicious look.

  “No. Thank God. Not a politician.”

  Ben’s heart sank. He’d not shared with her that politics might be in his future. The governor had mentioned throwing his support behind Ben’s run for a state house seat in a couple years. He couldn’t fess up to that now. At least not with the .410 within the man’s grasp.

  “Bien. I’ve got a bigger barrel for politicians.” He held Ben’s eyes.

  “Parrain, stop scaring Ben. I can’t imagine him as a politician. He’s way too honest.”

  Ben died a little inside.

  Remembering their day together gave Sabine the strength to march forward on the sidewalk toward the entrance of the New Orleans Museum of Art, holding the arm of her former husband. True, he wasn’t officially her ex, but in every sense of the word it was true. Ben had dropped her where Richard had been waiting with his limo just outside the fray.

  Richard was wearing an Armani tux that was tailored to fit him perfectly. He appeared every inch the part of the confident senator, complete with his woman on his arm.

  “I thought I requested that you wear the red.” She heard the annoyance in his voice; clearly, he was irritated that she didn’t heed his instructions.

  “I’m very happy with my choice, thanks.” She touched the gorgeous fabric of her gown, which was a crème-colored floating creation with a beaded bodice. She’d adored it the moment she’d laid eyes on it. It fit perfectly and fortunately provided enough coverage for her underlying wires. “Plus, you don’t get to choose my clothing for me anymore, Richard. Or my hotel—or anything for that matter. I’m leaving tonight and I’m not coming back unless it’s for a fun weekend or to visit someone of my choosing. It is my hometown, after all. I don’t want to have to worry about bei
ng stalked or tailed in my own hometown.” She gave him a hard look then, one that told him nothing, but hopefully caused him to question everything.

  Richard’s mouth tightened, but he didn’t say a word. There wasn’t time, because they’d made their way down the black and gold carpet, the official New Orleans Saints colors, to where the press was rabidly snapping photos and thrusting microphones toward their prey. And it seemed they’d caught the scent of Richard and Sabine. He quickly turned toward her and muttered, “Don’t screw this up for me, Sabine. Follow my lead. Oh, and smile.” His own phony, pasted-on smile must have been sincere enough to draw in the predators, because she barely had enough time to draw a breath before they attacked.

  “Senator Habersham, we’re surprised to see Mrs. Habersham here with you this evening. Does that mean the two of you have reconciled?”

  “Mrs. Habersham, there are rumors you’ve suffered from mental illness and had a breakdown after your father’s conviction. You’re looking well. Do you care to comment on your absence from public life for the past two years?”

  “My wife is in fantastic health. I mean, just look at her. Does she appear ill to you?” Richard spun Sabine around slowly like a ballerina as if daring anyone to suggest otherwise.

  Sabine stepped forward. “I was grieving the loss of my pregnancy and, yes, my father’s incarceration did take a toll on our family, but I’ve been taking a pause from political life to reevaluate my priorities. I’m doing very well, as you can see. Thanks for your concern, but I’ve suffered no mental health issues, though, as a licensed mental healthcare provider, a great deal of my time and effort is spent supporting those who are in crisis.” Sabine then flashed the reporters a dazzling smile and moved forward down the carpet, not bothering to retake Richard’s arm, and not caring if he caught up.

  He caught up. “Nicely done, though I would have preferred that you communicate your support of my reelection.”