by Leigh Landry
Sierra bit her lip to keep from laughing. The image was too much. But there was the matter of that shovel and the cornered animal holding it.
“He tripped on the weed eater he’d left out in the middle of the yard, stumbled a few steps, and cracked his head wide open on the edge of our back porch.”
Nothing to laugh about now. Assuming Sierra believed the story.
Her mind flashed back to the workshop and the missing inventory. “The metal rods. You stole those? And the pelicans?”
“He bled all over them, so I cleaned them and put them back. But with me moving now, I didn’t want to leave any evidence lying around. Clean slate and all. But taking just the rods might have looked suspicious. The pelicans were a foil. I took them to make people think it was someone looking to sell them.”
“If it was an accident, why not call the police?”
Lynette shook her head. “What if the kids woke up before the police or ambulance arrived? I couldn’t let them see what their idiotic father had done. I wrapped him in a tarp and slid him onto a dolly. There wasn’t a house on that lot yet. Just dark, empty land with lots of trees near the bayou. How was I supposed to know they’d clear all that out to build another house on the property?”
Movement from the side of Dale’s truck caught her eye. A man, ready to pounce, crouched by the tire.
Marc.
Her heart soared for half a second, knowing she wasn’t alone. But she needed him to wait.
While Lynette looked off at the bayou, lost in the past, Sierra shook her head at him, urging him to hold up. She needed to know why.
Lynette turned back to Sierra with a slight snarl on her face. “With every step as I rolled him through that field, the more it all made sense.”
Sierra looked at the pit in the ground, then at Denise’s scorched home, and back at the delusional woman telling her story as if she was describing how she makes afternoon tea.
“How does any of this make sense?”
“Don’t get snippy with me. You weren’t the one who had to figure out what to do with your dead husband while your two babies slept in blissful ignorance.”
Sierra shook her head. “But they weren’t babies. I’m sure they could have handled the truth. Or at least a modified version.”
Lynette narrowed her eyes and tightened her grip on the shovel. “They were my babies. I only did what any sensible mother would do. I protected them. I protected them from the last chance that bastard had to hurt them ever again.”
“So you let them think he abandoned them?” Sierra knew a little something about abandonment. It sucked. The woman was certifiably insane if she considered this the better option.
The conviction in Lynette’s eyes told Sierra the woman believed, heart and soul, that she’d done the right thing. But conviction wouldn’t carry her off free and clear. Not if Sierra had anything to say about it.
“You bet your nosy little behind I did,” Lynette said. “Better to have their father walk out on them for a little soul searching than to have the truth haunt them through school with taunts and laughter and ostracizing.”
Sierra could easily have argued against that theory, but now didn't seem the best time to tell Lynette she'd spent the last decade wasting her time.
She struggled to keep her eyes on Lynette and not let on that Marc was just a few feet away. Knowing that he was right there was both comforting and terrifying. She needed him to stay hidden and not rush in to “save” her. For now, at least.
“Besides,” Lynette continued, “I faked letters. Birthdays and Christmases. For a couple of years anyway.”
"So you did all of this—the snakes, the fire, the gas leak that almost killed me—to get Denise and Marc off their property so you could cover your tracks before you move. And for what? To keep your kids from finding out their dad was a drunk?"
"Yes. We’ve been over this. Yes."
"But you could have killed that whole family. Denise's kids could have been in the house!"
"Don't you think I checked first? I made sure they were gone. The fire was just to make sure they didn't come back until I was done moving the body. Then all I had to do was get Marc’s nosy eyes out of the neighborhood for a night."
The scene from Saturday night flashed through Sierra's mind. Lynette Guidry in her robe grabbing Sierra’s shoulders and shaking until she left bruises. "But you seemed so frantic, so worried they were in that house. Why the concern if you knew they weren't home?"
Lynette flounced her hair and put a hand on her hip. "Two years of university theater before I got pregnant with Adrien. Not too shabby, huh?"
Sierra had to admit she'd been convincing. "I still don't get it. Why now? Why all this concern over the body now?"
Even in the dim light, Sierra could see the woman's body deflate. The exhaustion of so many years keeping this secret finally took their toll.
"I'm moving. I got a position with a firm in Dallas, and I can be a partner in five years. I can't leave him here for someone else to find, and if I'm not here to watch over him, who knows who might dig him up. Hell, Marc’s already got that nasty dog.” She waved a hand toward Puck barking across the field. “What if it digs up a finger bone and drops it right on the porch one morning?” She threw an exasperated hand in the air. “What would Chloe and Adrien think when they heard that on the news?”
That their mother is a psychopath?
“They’d think I killed him, that’s what they’d think,” Lynette continued. “You know it, and I know it. This has gone too far to change gears now.” Lynette dropped the flashlight, flipped her shovel upright, and gripped it with both hands. “I have to finish this. Understand?”
Sierra nodded, gripping her own shovel with both hands. She understood perfectly. With all the answers she needed, there was only one thing left to do: put this woman down like the rabid animal she was.
But she didn’t make a move.
“Oh, I understand,” Sierra said. “I understand that you’re out here by yourself, still trying to save people who didn’t ask to be saved.”
“My children,” Lynette corrected.
“Your grown children,” Sierra said. “But there’s something you don’t understand.”
Lynette rolled her eyes. “What don’t I understand?”
Sierra made sure she had Lynette’s full attention, then she held her gaze and gave one firm nod. “Unlike you, I’ve learned that I’m not in this by myself.”
Before Lynette could turn toward the rustling near Dale’s truck, Marc dove shoulder-first, tackling her to the ground. Her flashlight and shovel flew several feet away.
Sierra blocked the path to Lynette’s shovel and held her own over her shoulder, ready to strike.
Marc remained over Mrs. Guidry, one foot on her back pinning her to the ground, his fists poised to strike if she so much as breathed funny.
Sierra wanted to throw her arms around him, but she held her ground and her shovel. “Did you hear all of that?”
Marc looked down at Lynette as she caught her breath from the blow. "Bits and pieces,” he said. “It was kind of muffled behind that truck. Nothing I heard made sense."
"Yeah, well, it didn’t make much more sense from out here either.”
Marc lifted his foot for Mrs. Guidry to pull herself up and sit in the grass. She wasn’t going anywhere. Not with him standing over her and Sierra aiming a shovel at her head.
Sirens blared and flashing lights erupted in the dark night air. Two police cars turned onto the long, gravel driveway.
“Do me a favor,” Mrs. Guidry said.
Marc stared at her in disbelief. “A favor? You’re kidding me.” He pointed at the charred house behind him. “You want a favor? After all of this?”
“I wasn’t asking you.” She turned her head to Sierra. “Don’t tell Chloe. Adrien can handle it—he was older, and he’s always been such a suspicious boy. And he won’t tell her if you tell him I asked him to keep it a secret. Just…tell her I ran
off. Like her dad.”
Marc couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Sierra stood calmly and listened to the request like she was actually considering it. Her eyes were almost sympathetic. But that couldn’t be right. It must have been the darkness or the flashing lights messing with his vision.
“Pretty sure it’s not up to me,” Sierra answered. “The cops aren’t going to cover this up like you did.”
“You’ve also missed two very important facts,” Marc added. “First, I work for the paper. No way this isn’t front and center tomorrow.”
“Please,” Mrs. Guidry begged, turning back to him. “I know I don’t have the right to ask, but couldn’t you fib a little? For Chloe?”
“No.”
“She’s going to find out anyway,” she said. “She works for the paper too.”
Marc nodded. “Right, but that’s not what I meant. That brings us to the second fact you missed.”
Footsteps approached behind him, but the police were still exiting their cars on the other side of the house. The tears sliding down Mrs. Guidry’s face told him she had a clear view of who was behind him.
“I'm not the one who called the police," Marc said.
Mrs. Guidry sobbed, and her body shook with despair. Chloe stopped beside the truck’s bumper, several feet away from her mother. After a few moments of painful silence, the cops arrived, aiming flashlights and asking questions. While one talked to Chloe, the other grabbed Mrs. Guidry under the arm and helped her to her feet. Sierra dropped her shovel and ran to stop them. She grabbed Mrs. Guidry’s other arm and spun her around, prompting the cop to put a hand on his gun.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Marc held one hand up at the cop and pulled Sierra back with the other. She was going to get them killed after all. “Easy, cowboy,” he whispered in her ear.
“Dale.” Sierra gave the woman a death stare. “Where is he?”
“Who’s Dale?” the cop asked.
Mrs. Guidry frowned and nodded toward the road. “My house. Master bathroom. Tied up but fine. He should be awake soon. I just needed his truck to move the body.”
The cop reached for his handcuffs and recited her rights, as he snapped the cuffs on her wrists. To Marc and Sierra, he said, “Don’t go anywhere. We need to take your statements.” Then he walked Mrs. Guidry to his car.
As soon as his back was to them, Sierra turned to bolt. Marc grabbed for her hand before she was out of reach.
“I’m getting Dale.” Her face and voice were both set with determination.
He pulled her close, put both hands on her arms, and looked her in the eyes. “You’re more insane than her if you think there’s any chance I’m letting you out of my sight again. Not because I want to keep an eye on you, but because we’re in this together. Today. Tomorrow. Maybe forever.” He smiled at her. “You’re stuck with me.”
Her lips pouted, and she narrowed her eyes, while he braced himself for the lashing. He could take it. What he couldn’t take was thinking he’d lost her again.
Instead of unleashing her wrath, she smiled that mischievous smile he’d grown to love. "All right then.” She took his hand off of her arm and laced her fingers with his. “I guess I'm taking you with me."
25
One Month Later
Sierra carried a plate piled high with raw burger patties to the patio. “No, these aren’t for you, buddy.” Puck jumped and pirouetted alongside her. “Later, maybe.”
“Can I help?” Freddy met her with his hands outstretched.
“Nope. Thanks.” She nodded toward the ice chest in the corner. “Grab a drink and hang out with the others. We’ve got this.”
“You sure? Need me to get anything else inside?” He scratched at his stubble, the result of a long night and a hangover earlier that morning. Based on all Marc had told her about Freddy so far, she was pretty confident in her assumption.
“We’re good. I promise. Have you met Liz yet? She’s with Luna by the kiddie pool. She’s a tattoo artist.”
“Really?”
Sierra nodded and aimed her right arm at him. “Yeah, she’s amazing.”
He took Sierra’s arm in his hand to examine her half-sleeve. “Very cool.” Then, he winked at her and headed off to most likely charm his way into a discount. Halfway there though, the shiny little package that was Chloe Guidry caught his eye, and Freddy made a sharp turn.
Marc took the plate from her and lifted the grill lid. “Did you talk to her yet?”
“Not yet. I’m going to check on everyone first.”
She kissed him on the cheek, and the ease of their interaction caught her off guard.
Sierra found Dale on the swing and sat next to him. Puck tried to hop up between them, but his paws were muddy, so she shooed him away to play with Luna.
“Nice little gathering,” Dale said.
It really was. It had all of her favorite people, plus a few new faces she’d have to get used to. Freddy was pretty great, and Chloe was growing on her.
Dale smiled at Luna splashing in the water and calling Puck to jump in with her. Puck was having none of that, but he hopped and pranced around the perimeter.
“You okay?” she asked.
She’d encouraged Dale to take some time off to rest and process things, so she hadn’t seen him much this past month. Lynette had lured him with news of an imaginary call from her dead husband, then she’d knocked him out with ether and hid him in her bathroom. While he’d been physically fine—confirmed by a trip to the hospital Sierra had insisted upon—the events had left him shaken. The deception. The abduction. Waking up alone, tied up in a dark bathroom. Discovering that Lynette Guidry had stolen his truck to move her dead husband’s body and had been planning to frame him for it.
It was a lot to process.
Dale scratched his beard. “I’m fine now. Thank you for taking over at work.”
Taking over his hours had doubled hers and allowed her to pay back Liz and kick off some plans for the future. Big plans. But it wasn’t easy filling Dale’s shoes, and she’d missed him the last few weeks. “I half-expected to see you back after a couple days.”
“The thought crossed my mind,” he said.
“What stopped you?”
Dale looked out through the yard toward the bayou. “It was time for a break.”
“I understand.” She stood and asked, “Want something to drink?”
He politely declined, and Sierra left him to swing and stare at the bayou. She grabbed an orange soda from the ice chest. When she stood, she spotted her dad entering from the side gate. She walked over and gave him a hug, the unopened can still in her hand.
“Hey, Pumpkin,” he said.
“You made it.”
“Wrapped up a little early at the farmer’s market.”
“Had a good morning?”
“Oh yeah, sold quite a few bags of fertilizer. Not many seedlings, but it’s still early for most people starting winter gardens. I did hand out a bunch of cards.”
“The weather was beautiful for it.”
“Sure was. You and Marc should come sometime. Bring Luna if Liz is working.”
“That’s actually a pretty good idea.” The market took place every Saturday morning on an old horse farm turned into a city park. They had music and food every weekend, with lots of space to run around and huge live oaks to climb. Luna would love it.
“Well, I guess reintroductions are in order?” he said.
Sierra’s stomach did a few flips, although she had no idea why. They weren’t a get-Dad’s-approval kind of family, and her dad already knew Marc. This shouldn’t be a big deal.
So why was she so terrified?
Sierra walked with her Dad a few feet to the grill where Marc was putting the last of the burgers on the flame. “Marc, you remember my dad, right?”
His face lit up. “Sure! Glad you could come, Mr. Menard.” He waved his hands around, then held out his left hand awkwardly. “Sorry, touched the raw patties.”
“
That’s fine.” Her dad shook Marc’s hand and patted him on the shoulder with his other hand. “Good to see you again.”
They both nodded and a slight hesitation interrupted the conversation.
“It’s weird being back here like this, right?”
Her dad smiled. “A little bit.”
“You’ll get used to it,” Sierra said.
“Oh? Is this something I should get used to?”
Marc pressed his lips together to hide a smile, and Sierra rolled her eyes, putting both hands on her dad’s shoulders to aim him in a different direction.
“You’ll have plenty of time to harass us later.” She pointed at the swing. “Go talk to Dale about dirt or poop or something.”
He chuckled as he walked away.
“Drinks are in the ice chest,” she shouted at his back.
A second later, Liz replaced him beside her. “How you hanging?”
Sierra shrugged and finally popped open her drink. “Still adjusting.”
“To what?” Liz raised her eyebrows and tilted her head toward Marc at the grill.
She sighed and gestured at the yard. “All of it. I mean, I love you, but you and Luna with a kiddie pool and a dog and a bunch of other people at my boyfriend’s house. It’s all a little much, you know?”
“For you, maybe. For the rest of us, it’s just life, babe.”
“So you’re saying I’m blowing everything out of proportion?”
“Nope,” Liz said. “I’ve seen you blow things out of proportion. This is downright serene for you.”
They both laughed. She was right. By Sierra’s standards, this was as calm as she would ever get. And if Marc could live with that, then she could live with a teeny weeny barbecue.
But something was making her even more anxious. Something she had to ask Liz before she chickened out.
“Take a walk with me for a sec’?”
