Bayou Judgment

by Robin Caroll

  “No, He isn’t.” The words escaped before Felicia could stop them.

  Winnie narrowed her eyes. “I thought I told you to shut up. You don’t pay attention very well, do you?”

  Winnie shot out of the chair, towering over Felicia as she slapped her across the face.

  Felicia laid a hand against her stinging cheek. Her skin was hot to the touch. Indignant tears burned her eyes.

  Lord, please help me.

  “Oh, you’re gonna cry now?” Winnie laughed. “How priceless.”

  Blinking back the tears, Felicia refused to play into the woman’s plan. She jerked her hand down and slipped it under the quilt. She wouldn’t give in now. No way, no how.

  Winnie cackled more. “Don’t you get it, princess? You’re at my mercy now.”

  Felicia wanted to ask how Winnie had ever been at her mercy, but with the heat still searing her cheek, she bit her lip. Her injured muscles tensed but she refused to flinch.

  “That’s right. You and me, we’re gonna get some things straight. Like how you kept telling me I didn’t want to really hurt anyone.” Winnie snorted and stood. She paced, her words enunciating each step. “How do you know? Maybe I did want to hurt someone. Like my ex’s new girlfriend. That hussy.”

  She turned and stared at Felicia, smiling like a gator about to snap a bird in its massive jaws. “She got what she deserved.”

  The sick feeling returned. Felicia had an idea it had nothing to do with the pain medicine, but more with the realization that she sat in a locked apartment with a deranged person.

  Who seemed bent on making Felicia pay for whatever perceived wrong danced in Winnie’s head.

  Wrinkling her nose, Winnie continued pacing. “She came across as cute and bubbly. Sweet. Trying to be something she wasn’t.” Winnie grunted and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. Saccharine sweet, if you ask me.”

  Where was a good baseball bat when you needed it?

  “And his dumb self fell for it—hook, line and sinker. Such a man. Waltz a short skirt in front of them with a little giggle, and they’ll roll over for you.”

  Wasn’t there an extra curtain rod under the couch? Could Felicia grab it without Winnie noticing? Wait, it wasn’t there anymore. They’d used it to replace the one broken in the last break-in.

  “And, boy, did he roll over. Followed her as if he were some little schoolboy with a crush.” She gave a humorless laugh.

  “Yeah, he’s a rat, all right.”

  What about her cane? Felicia let her gaze fall to the areas beside the couch. Her cane was never out of arm’s reach. Oh. Right. She was still a little fuzzy on details, but she remembered Spence had gone to get her cane from Mark’s. Why wasn’t he back yet? Surely enough time had passed.

  “He just threw me away like a sucked-out crawfish head. After I’d already started filling my hope chest with linens and stuff for the day we’d be married.” Pain edged into Winnie’s words.

  Maybe Felicia could use that pain. There sure wasn’t anything she could use as a weapon of sorts. Except her intelligence. Hadn’t she been able to talk Kipp down and get him away from her? She took a deep breath. “I know how you feel,” she ventured.

  Winnie jerked her stare from the window and glared. “What do you know about it?”

  “I’ve lost a guy I dated before.”

  “He left you for someone else?”

  Good, Winnie was talking. Now to just keep her communicating. Just like she had with Kipp.

  “That wasn’t the reason he gave, but he did eventually find someone else.” Felicia backtracked through her memories to high school. “You see, I was in a wheelchair, and that was hard for most guys to deal with.” It hadn’t been for Frank.

  Apparently not for Spence, either. He’d never treated her any differently before her surgeries.

  “What happened?” Animosity momentarily forgotten, Winnie dropped to the chair. The way her mood seemed to flip back and forth so quickly…what was up with her?

  “He stood me up for prom. I guess having a date who couldn’t dance and was on wheels didn’t sound appealing to him.”

  “How rude.”

  Felicia gave a slight smile. “I found out later his friends had dared him to ask me to prom. He’d never really wanted to go with me, anyway.” All these years later, the truth still hurt.

  “What’d you do?”

  “Do? Nothing.” Felicia gave a dry laugh. “You can’t make someone like you if they don’t.” The rest of the memory filled her mind, and she laughed. “However, my big brother bloodied his nose.”

  Winnie laughed, too, then frowned. “At least you have someone to take up for you. I have to take up for myself.”

  “Actually, I was mad at my brother for doing that.”

  “Why? The dude deserved it.”

  Felicia shook her head. “I don’t know why it happened, but I know it happened for a reason. Everything happens for a reason.”

  Winnie crossed her arms over her chest and smirked. “You’re saying God had that guy stand you up and humiliate you as part of some big plan?”

  Oh, Lord, give me the words.

  “I believe so.” Felicia tucked her hair behind her ear. “Maybe so I’d know what it felt like, to teach me compassion. Maybe so I’d recognize real love when I felt it.” Like she had with Frank.

  Like with Spence. Her heart twisted. Where was he? Had he been in an accident?

  As if on cue, the phone in the bedroom rang. Winnie didn’t seem to hear it. “Give me a break. That’s all a load of baloney.” Winnie popped back to her feet, looking angry again.

  “It’s true.”

  Winnie towered over Felicia, holding her by the shoulders and shaking her until Felicia thought her teeth would rattle out of her head. “Shut up, shut up, shut up!”

  It had to be a combination of an empty stomach, the pain medication and the jarring movement. Felicia leaned over and threw up.

  All over Winnie’s shoes.

  NINETEEN

  Still nothing but voice mail. Surely she couldn’t be still asleep? Did the drugs knock her out completely? Spencer slammed the cell phone into the console and stared at it.

  Ring. Call me back.

  But it remained silent. He checked again to ensure the ringer was on and the volume set to high before tossing it back down.

  Why wasn’t she answering?

  He glared at the firemen. How difficult could it be to saw a pole and chunk the bits into the ditch? Minutes felt like eons.

  Time he didn’t have.

  His cell phone chirped. He jerked it up, not even bothering to check the caller ID. “Felicia?”

  “Uh, no. It’s Jon Garrison.”

  Spencer swallowed his groan. “What’s up?”

  “Called the center and Michael told me you’d taken the night off.”

  “Yeah.” He wouldn’t volunteer any additional information.

  “Just reminding you we have an appointment tomorrow morning at nine.”

  As if he could forget. “I know.”

  “Okay. Don’t be late.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Who’s Felicia?”

  Should’ve known he wouldn’t get off that easily. “One of the operators at the center.”

  “Mmm-hmm. Just an employee, huh?”

  No more evasion. “She’s a friend as well. She injured her leg post-surgery, and I’m just helping her out.”

  “Oh. Okay. Well, see you tomorrow.”

  Spencer snapped shut the phone. He could’ve gone into more detail with Garrison, but there wasn’t any point. Not until he knew where he stood with Felicia.

  He stared at the phone he still held.

  C’mon, Felicia, call back.

  Yet the phone remained stubbornly silent and still. Maybe he should call Luc and ask him to go check on her.

  No, she’d been determined to not lean on her big brother anymore.

  But what if something was wrong? What if she’d fallen and needed hel
p?

  He flipped open the phone.

  Come on, Luc, pick up. But the phone rang two more times, then directed the call to voice mail. What kind of message could he possibly leave that wouldn’t panic her brother? None. He closed the phone, wondering who else he could call. No one.

  He dropped the cell into the console as tings sounded on the truck roof. Staring out the windshield, he watched gumball-size hail pelt the firemen. The wind whirled, making a hissing sound. Another sign?

  More of a delay. The firemen huddled closer to their truck. One lifted a radio to his mouth.

  Spencer’s insides felt as if someone grabbed them in a tight grip. He couldn’t get hold of Luc to rush to her apartment, but he needed to check on Felicia. Now.

  Decision made, Spencer turned over the engine, put the truck in Reverse and maneuvered in the limited space to turn around. It’d take him some time to backtrack, but at least he’d feel like he was making progress. Better than sitting and waiting.

  If only he could shake the feeling that something was wrong.

  Hail mixed with rain, making visibility close to zero. He crept along, the speedometer not reaching twenty miles per hour. He couldn’t take a chance on slipping off the road or running into another delay. Cranking the defroster to high, Spencer arched over the steering wheel, his fingers digging into the worn cover.

  “Stupid! Look what you’ve done.” Winnie jumped back, nearly falling over the coffee table. She stared at her shoes as if a water moccasin had just writhed between her feet.

  “I’m sorry. I’m not feeling well. It’s the medicine.” Felicia wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. The room continued to spin. Why’d she ever pick out such loud and vibrant pieces of art? They all melded together in a psychedelic blend—a spinning, nausea-inducing blend.

  Winnie glared. “You threw up on me.”

  Why not state the obvious? “I didn’t mean to.” Her voice came out as weak as Felicia felt. And her stomach continued to roll like a wave over the bayou.

  Winnie jerked Felicia’s arm. “Get into the bathroom, idiot.”

  “I can’t. My leg.” Felicia refused to move. She kept her injured leg propped on the couch, even though Winnie almost held her in a levitating position. Her arm would be ripped from the socket at any moment.

  “Don’t lie to me.” The old Winnie was back in control. The violent lunatic.

  Felicia yanked her arm free, anger spurring on her words. “Do you think I’d have laid here and let you slap and shake me if I could get up?” She pressed a hand against her forehead. The pounding got louder. “I can’t put any weight on my leg.”

  “Stop sniveling. Get up.” Winnie grabbed hold of her arm again, jerking harder this time.

  Snatching free, Felicia glared. “I’m not sniveling, and I can’t get up. Don’t you get it? Are you that stupid?”

  Rage brightened Winnie’s cheeks.

  Uh-oh. Might not have been the smartest thing to do, insulting her. But Felicia couldn’t help it. Her head hurt, her leg ached, the nausea wouldn’t go away and she worried about Spence. He’d called a good fifteen minutes ago, at least, yet he hadn’t shown up. Something was wrong. And she was beyond tired of this woman who’d barged in and bullied her.

  “How dare you!”

  Felicia glanced up in just enough time to dodge the fist Winnie threw. Missing her target only enraged her more. Grabbing Felicia’s shoulder to keep her in place, Winnie reared back her arm, fist balled. Felicia grabbed the edge of the quilt and flung it over Winnie’s head. The fist flung wildly, but missed her.

  Shoving Winnie backward over the coffee table with a loud crash, Felicia almost lost her balance. She swayed, using the back of the chair for balance. Hobbling, she made her way around the end table, heading for the bedroom. The door had a lock—she could make a 911 call from the extension.

  No such luck.

  Winnie grabbed her bad ankle. Felicia screamed as pain tightened her muscles. She fell to the floor in a heap.

  Pain knifing up her leg stole her breath.

  Her head jerked backward so hard, white dots went in and out of focus in front of her eyes. Facing the floor, she reached behind her and tried to grab her hair away from Winnie, who only pulled harder. Chunks of hair had to come out with the last yank. Tears blocked Felicia’s vision.

  The agony. Every part of her body throbbed, each crying out for relief.

  No! She wouldn’t allow herself to be beaten. She’d keep fighting.

  God, please help me. Give me strength.

  Felicia ignored the pain in her head and struggled to flip to her back. Winnie leaned over her, hand still woven into Felicia’s hair. Felicia kicked her in the stomach with her good foot. Winnie let out a hard oomph and let go.

  Scooting on her backside, Felicia moved out of Winnie’s reach. She scrambled to stand, hopping on her good foot, and headed for the hallway.

  A fist connected to her side. Hard. She leaned against the wall and slid to the floor.

  “Oh, no, you don’t. I’m not done with you yet, princess.” Winnie grabbed her upper arm and jerked her to a stand.

  “You’ve caused me enough trouble.”

  Felicia teetered, her center of balance totally off kilter. All energy spent, she leaned heavily against Winnie, who walked her back to the living room and shoved her onto the couch. Landing hard, Felicia clenched her jaw against the pain.

  Winnie rubbed her hip and scowled at the coffee table. “You broke it. Don’t try to blame it on me.”

  The woman had assaulted her, and she worried about being blamed for a broken table? She was certifiable.

  “You attacked me.” And she hadn’t been able to stop the raving maniac. Once again, Felicia cursed her disease and helplessness.

  Winnie turned her scowl to Felicia.

  Uh-oh. Bad move again. When would she learn to just keep her big mouth shut? Stop infuriating the raving mad lunatic.

  Lord, I pray You’ll give me wisdom and strength. I really need it right now.

  Using conversation had worked, for a bit. Maybe it would again. Felicia sucked in a deep breath, situated herself more comfortably on the couch, and turned on her most sincere smile. “Look, I don’t know how we got off track. Let’s both calm down and talk about this. Whatever your beef is with me, let’s work to resolve it, yes?”

  Winnie hesitated a moment, then sat in the chair. While her stare was still hard, at least she wasn’t coming out swinging.

  Whispering a prayer of thanks, Felicia considered her options. She couldn’t give in to panic or fear. She could either play nice and try to find out the root of Winnie’s problem or she could take the defensive and see if she could get away from her.

  Not much of a choice, really. Injured, she wasn’t much of a match for Winnie. Escaping from Winnie would have to be moved to plan B. Only to be put into play if absolutely necessary.

  Felicia prayed her words would find a welcoming spot in Winnie’s heart. “Why don’t you really tell me why you came to see me?”

  Wow, when had her voice become so calm and steady?

  It must have impressed Winnie as well, because the woman lost her angry look. She let out a soft sigh. “You betrayed me.”

  Felicia’s heart took another twist. Just what she’d told Spence, but he hadn’t listened to her. Why hadn’t she fought harder? These poor callers depend upon their identity and problems remaining anonymous. Felicia cleared her throat. “It wasn’t my call to make. We have to look at the overall picture, and at the time, the police were looking into everything at the center.”

  Winnie’s arched her brows. “Really? Why’s that?”

  Maybe if she shared the truth, Winnie would understand. “One of our operators was murdered. The police were looking into a possible connection between her and any of the calls she’d taken.”

  She had Winnie’s complete attention now. “Does that happen a lot? People threatening y’all?”

  “No. But when it does, we have to no
tify the police.”

  “Hmm.” Winnie rested her elbows on her knees, studying Felicia. “And did they find anything?”

  “No. The police arrested her boyfriend.”

  “That Wesley Ellender I saw on the news?”

  Felicia swallowed hard. “Yes.”

  “And the police found the knife with him, right?”

  “Yes.”

  While Winnie pondered that, something niggled against Felicia’s mind. Something off. She shoved away the feeling, wanting to keep Winnie talking rationally. Anything to buy her more time. Time to come up with something to get her out of the apartment. Or at least away from Felicia.

  “Wonder if he’ll get the death penalty.” Winnie spoke more to herself than Felicia.

  “I don’t know. So, you see, I didn’t want to betray you. I didn’t have a choice.”

  Winnie snapped back to the conversation and narrowed her eyes. “Whose decision was it?”

  A choking sort of fear scooted down Felicia’s spine. “Well, the sheriff asked for any and all call records from people who’d been showing signs of aggression.”

  “That pastor guy, he’s the one who ratted me out, wasn’t he?”

  “No, the sheriff had a warrant.”

  Winnie gave a snort and bounced to her feet. “Whatever. I should have known not to trust a man.”

  This was going down the wrong path way too fast. She’d better do something or she’d be running for her life again. “It doesn’t matter now, Winnie.”

  “You don’t think?”

  Felicia forced a smile on her face. “No. Now, why don’t you tell me about your ex?”

  Winnie flashed those pearly whites of hers. “Let’s just say he’s indisposed.”

  TWENTY

  Hurricane season was still months away, but it seemed no one had filled the wind in on that fact. It whipped and cut through downtown Lagniappe like a current in the channel. Mardi Gras decorations marched across the roads and lawns. It was downright eerie to see comedy/tragedy masks cart-wheeling from the storm.

  Spencer wiped his watering eyes. Straining to focus had made them ache. If only he could drive a little faster. At this speed, the route would take another ten to fifteen minutes to reach Felicia’s. He inched down on the accelerator.