by Robin Caroll
“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 surrou
nd 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.”
“Yeah. She may have enticed him, but he didn’t have to chase after her like a dog to a bone. But that’s okay. He’ll get his.”
“Now, Winnie, that doesn’t sound good. Surely you can see that plotting revenge isn’t good for you.” Lord, please let her see that revenge isn’t the answer.
The woman laughed. “Maybe not, but it sure feels good. Oh, he’ll get his, all right.”
“Um, I think maybe you should talk to our pastor. Remember, I told you about him?”
Spence wiped his hands on his jeans. A silly ritual that he did before he took a hard call.
“No. I don’t want to talk to anybody else. Matter of fact, I don’t wanna talk to you anymore, either.”
The connection clicked loudly in Felicia’s earpiece. Yanking the headset off, she tossed it on the desk.
“No dice, huh?” Spence’s words were gentle.
“And got rather indignant when I even suggested she talk to you.” Felicia shook her head. “I don’t get it. She calls initially to talk to me about winning her guy back, then moves into threats of hurting the new girlfriend. Now she’s not mad at the girlfriend anymore, but is plotting payback toward her ex for hurting her. Something’s not right with her, Spence. She’s not rational.”
“But she’s not threatening that woman anymore, right?”
“No, but she’s bent on revenge toward her ex.”
Spence straightened and ran a hand over his head. “Think she’s just blowing smoke?”
She shook her head. “Something’s going on with her. I feel it. She’s not stable and it isn’t just her pain venting.”
“But she didn’t act on her feelings toward the new girlfriend, and she called back. Maybe in a couple more days, she’ll call again and not be so bitter toward her ex.”
“I hope so.” Nice thought, but she had her doubts. The woman ping-ponged with her emotions. Felicia reached for her cane.
“You know, you didn’t have to come in tonight. I could’ve had others cover for you.” He laid a hand on her shoulder. “I know how hard it’s been for you.”
Heat nearly seared her shoulder. She forced herself to focus despite the feelings pulling her to him. He was only her boss, yes? “I’ll be okay. I need to be here. If I can help someone else, maybe I won’t feel so…”
“So what?”
She’d almost forgotten he’d been trained to dig out secrets.
“Nothing. I’m all right.” Felicia got to her feet and shot him a shaky smile. “Don’t worry about me.”
“Have you heard anything from the sheriff?”
She let out a heavy sigh. “They haven’t come up with anything yet.”
He squeezed her shoulder. “They’ll find who did it soon.”
But as she headed to the break room, she knew nothing would be right in her world for a long time coming.
FOUR
“I still think this is a bad idea, Boo. No one will think less of you if you reconsider and stay home.” Luc hesitated, holding the overflowing box of dishes easily on his hip.
“I said no, and meant it,” Felicia replied as she tossed all the dishrags on top of the box.
“How about you at least stay until the killer is caught?”
“And if that doesn’t happen anytime soon, then what? Just live at home for the rest of my life?”
“It’s not a good idea for you to be living here alone after what happened.”
“I’m tired of discussing it, yes?”
“When did you get so stubborn?”
“Runs in the family.” She smiled to soften her words.
Luc shook his head. “Fine. But if there’s even so much as a hint of violence around you, I’m going to come right back and march you straight home. I don’t like you living here alone.” He stormed from the apartment.
Felicia bit back her grin. He truly worried over her, and she didn’t doubt he’d make
good on his threat. All the more reason to see Jolie’s killer brought to justice quickly. It’d ensure her independence. Or, at the very least, get Luc off her back.
She checked the cabinets a final time. All empty. Counters, too, except for a single item. The butcher block of knives. She hadn’t been able to pack it. Jolie had been killed with a knife. None of their knives had been used—the sheriff had ruled out that possibility. Still, Felicia didn’t know if she’d ever be able to look at a knife again and not think of Jolie’s murder. She jerked the butcher block into the trash bag.
Soft footfalls sounded from the doorway. “The sheriff told me he still hasn’t gotten in touch with Kipp. Would you like me to take the box of Jolie’s things to my house until they do?” CoCo shoved her dark curls from her face.
Why hadn’t the police located Kipp? He didn’t shown up for Jolie’s funeral, and no one had seen or heard from him since. Did the loan sharks get him, too? Cold fingertips trailed down Felicia’s back as she started to wonder if Luc was right. She gave herself a mental shake. No, she had to stake her independence now or she’d falter.
“Fels, you okay?” CoCo touched her shoulder. Warm, caring.
“I’m fine. Um, I’ll just keep her things in my closet until Kipp resurfaces.” If he ever did, that is. She certainly wouldn’t bring up her concerns, though. Luc would throw a fit and toss her back home in a heartbeat if he though she was scared. But Jolie’s murder hadn’t been random. The police agreed with her.
“Okay.” CoCo pierced her with a look filled with pity.
Just what Felicia didn’t want or need. She headed to her bedroom, her limp more pronounced from spending the whole day packing up the apartment. It was her day off from physical therapy, but she’d overworked her muscles just as if she’d done four sets.
Alyssa LeBlanc, CoCo’s sister visiting from New Orleans, breezed down the hallway. “All your address-change requests have been delivered to the post office, madam.”
“Merci. I appreciate it.”
While the others toted boxes across the complex, Felicia finished packing her bedroom. Her hands paused as she reached for her jewelry box. She opened the lid, the hinge creaking. The single solitaire blinked up at her, the overhead light causing the diamond to sparkle as if the promise hadn’t been broken. Felicia blinked back tears and regret—and anger. Anger that Frank had died at their engagement party.
