The Cajun Doctor

by Sandra Hill

  “This isn’t over,” Jeff said with a scowl as he stepped back.

  “Tell that brother of yours that The Boss wants his money, or he’s pit bull kibble.” With that warning, Mutt drew his booted foot out of the doorway.

  And the two ran off to their car.

  With the door now closed and locked, Daniel looked at Samantha, who appeared dazed. “That went well.”

  Samantha blinked away her daze and pushed away from him, walking back into the living room, heading toward the kitchen. “Where is that Scotch?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  There are road trips, and then there are ROAD TRIPS! . . .

  Samantha was thankful for Daniel’s help. She really was. But her life since his arrival had turned into one madcap debacle after another. Can anyone say mafia? Or the killer kiss? Hard to believe that her seemingly normal life could have become so bizarre.

  Who was she kidding? Angus was the one who’d brought on this disaster, but he walked around with such a hangdog expression on his face that it was hard to snark at him. Better she should snipe at Daniel who was doing plenty of complaining of his own, most of it muttered under his breath, as they packed up the vehicles to go to the plantation.

  “Does she have to buy pet food in fifty-pound bags?”

  “But, man, she does have a nice ass.”

  “If that dog pees on my car tires one more time . . . !”

  “She’s gonna owe me big-time. BIG-time!”

  “How hard can it be to carry a Savannah cat, whatever the hell that is? Ouch, ouch, ouch!”

  “I can’t remember when I had my last tetanus shot. That is just great! I’ve probably got rabies.”

  “What do you mean, your pig is depressed? I’m the only one allowed to be depressed around here.”

  “This is a bad idea, a really bad idea.”

  “I think I’ll go back to pediatric oncology. A lot less stress!”

  “No, no, no! Not there, Emily.”

  “Maybe I’ll wake up, and this is all a nightmare.”

  It was after midnight before they got all the animals, their various crates and food and toys, into her car and Daniel’s SUV, which was now parked in the alley behind her garage. Thus far, there had been no further signs of what Daniel had come to call the Mutt and Jeff of the mafia. Thank God. There was no doubt in her mind, though, that they would return, possibly as soon as this morning.

  And, hey, the way things were going for her, Nick could show up any minute with his gun collection and extreme athlete cohort. In that case, she wondered idly if Daniel would pull another sex-against-the-wall stunt. Or perhaps not so idly.

  Lily Beth was curled up on her side in the cargo area of Daniel’s vehicle, covered with some doggie blankets. Situated between the back of her bent knees and her rump was Clarence in his cage. Needless to say, they were all getting sick of his “Holy shits.” Daniel was threatening masking tape. And Lily Beth came in a close second to Daniel in the complaint department. “If we doan leave soon, I’m gonna hafta pee again.” Or “I’m hungry. Kin we stop at Claudine’s fer some beignets?” Or “I have enough gas ta fire up a barbecue.”

  Angus had managed to fit himself in the trunk of Samantha’s BMW. Probably glad to be away from Lily Beth’s constant grumblings. Daniel’s complaints, on the other hand, seemed to amuse Angus. Men!

  Axel was lying, half on, half off of the front passenger seat of Samantha’s car, his rump on the floor. Maddie, who was hissing mad, had been forced to sit on half of the backseat. The other side of the seat held a crate with two cats, Felix and Garfield. She and Daniel both had scratch marks up and down their arms from their efforts to carry the reluctant Maddie out of the house. There was no way they could have stuffed the big, angry cat into a crate.

  “Are you sure this isn’t an actual cougar?” Daniel kept asking Samantha. “Maybe we could drop it off at the zoo.”

  Daniel also carried a crate of puppies on his backseat, and sitting demurely beside him in the front was a pig. He still didn’t think the pig was depressed, as Samantha kept telling him. It was a pig scam, in his opinion. Whatever that was!

  “If I get stopped for speeding, how am I going to explain this pig to the cops?” he asked, once Maddie was locked into an animal seat belt.

  “I’d be more worried about the pregnant woman in the cargo area if I were you. Or the cursing bird,” she countered. Then she added, because she couldn’t resist, “Don’t speed.”

  Daniel was not amused. He’d lost his sense of humor somewhere between stepping in goose poop and her cautions not to hurt Emily’s feelings by calling her fat. “Ditto to you, sweetheart,” he said. “How you going to explain a cougar in your backseat?”

  “I keep telling you, Maddie isn’t a cougar. She’s a Savannah cat.”

  “Same thing,” Daniel grumbled.

  Finally, the cars were loaded, she’d secured the house, and they were off to Bayou Rose Plantation. She followed Daniel’s SUV. There didn’t appear to be anyone following them; so, they were safe. For now.

  The trip was mostly uneventful. In her car anyway. She could imagine what was happening in Daniel’s vehicle, though. Between Lily Beth’s moans and Clarence’s “Holy shits!” Daniel would be spitting nails by the time they arrived.

  It was after one a.m. when they drove up the alleé to the plantation house. In the misty light cast by a full bayou moon, their headlights, and the exterior lamps on the mansion, the property looked dreamlike. Almost beautiful. All its imperfections muted. The landscaping work that had been done the previous afternoon had paid off. Oh, Lord! Had all this happened in less than one day? The grassy areas were neatly mowed. Massive shrubs and bougainvillea vines had been trimmed. Even the Spanish moss hanging from the live oak trees appeared sparkly with dew, rather than their usual ghostly gray. The mansion itself, in bad need of a paint job, looked shabbily elegant, if that was possible.

  She sighed deeply as she came to a stop behind Daniel’s stopped SUV. But when he didn’t immediately emerge, she noticed something else. Aaron LeDeux had just come home and pulled his pickup truck around Samantha’s BMW and then around and in front of Daniel’s vehicle.

  Samantha got out of her car and approached the SUV just as Aaron was approaching from the other side. All they could hear, aside from the nighttime bayou sounds of crickets and frogs and hooty owls, was “Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!” coming from the end of the vehicle. The puppies were barking in their backseat crate. Through the rear window could be seen a pregnant woman, attempting to sit up.

  Samantha looked at Aaron, who was clearly stunned, and he looked back at her, in question. Daniel had his forehead pressed to the steering wheel, probably swearing a blue streak.

  When Daniel finally opened the electric window and looked up, he snarled at his brother, “Don’t say anything. Not a word. Or I swear, I can’t predict what I’ll do.”

  “Um. I was just going to say, bro,” Aaron said, scrooching down so he was eye level with Daniel, “do you know you have a pig in the catbird seat?”

  Then, there was no stopping Aaron’s laughter. Eventually, Daniel joined in, emerging from his SUV and laughing so hard he finally had to sit down on the steps leading up to the verandah.

  Samantha took that as a good sign.

  On the other hand, she was clearly in the middle of a walking nervous breakdown.

  His brother was his keeper only when he wanted to be . . .

  You could say that his brother overreacted a bit to Daniel’s suggestion that Aaron remain in the big house with Angus, Lily Beth, Samantha, and the animals while Daniel retired to his garconniére apartment. That was Daniel’s opinion anyhow. After all, Daniel would be within shouting distance, practically, if there were a problem, which no one expected anymore tonight. But, no, Aaron was being unreasonable . . . when he wasn’t laughing his ass off.

  “No!”

  “Are you frickin’ kidding me?”

  “Absolutely not!”

 
“Not a chance!”

  “You’re the expert on depression, not me. Besides, I like my bacon on a plate, not on my lap. Whoever heard of a lap pig anyhow?”

  “And I thought Delilah was weird with her gators!”

  “Do you realize that’s a cougar over there? A Savannah cat? Yeah, right! And Delilah raises lizards.”

  “I only have one bedroom furnished. Are you suggesting that I sleep with Samantha? Jeesh! You don’t have to yell. I was only teasing. I have a bunch of air mattresses.”

  “No, I am not going to tell you where I was all night. Oh, all right. I’ve been taking nocturnal dance lessons. No, I didn’t say nocturnal emissions, you pervert. Lessons. Dance lessons. No, not in the French Quarter, gutter-brain. Down the bayou. Swamp dancing. You never heard of that? Man, you have a dirty mind.”

  “Speaking of dirty, who’s going to clean up after all these animals? They’re house-trained? I find that hard to believe. A house-trained pig! No, I am not going to shush. The pig can’t hear me, and even if it could, would it understand? Better yet, do I care?”

  Samantha was currently downstairs setting up accommodations for all her pets in the second salon, which was as yet empty of any furniture. Hell, hardly any of the rooms in the fifteen-room house had furniture yet. Luckily, there were a lot of paint drop cloths around.

  Angus and Lily Beth had inflated a couple of air mattresses that Aaron had on hand (something about manufacturer’s samples that doubled as rafts in small aircrafts in case of crashes) and were presumably fast asleep on the floor of the front parlor. The pocket doors had been closed for privacy more than an hour ago. The young couple had to be exhausted. Or maybe they just wanted to escape Aaron’s blistering interrogation.

  In his defense, Aaron had been brutally honest with them after he’d been told their sorry story. A lot of the concerns were ones Daniel hadn’t even thought of. For example, Aaron said that Costa Rica was not even a remote possibility. Not only were there flight plans to be filed, but also required were pre-planned itineraries, passports, round-trip tickets, and plane parking permits. The biggest deterrent, though, especially with a pregnant woman, was that there had been several cases of the Zika virus in Costa Rica. A slight risk. Still . . . End of that plan!

  Until better alternatives could be found, Daniel decided, hiding out at Bayou Rose represented a holding pattern for the couple. A temporary solution. And for Samantha, as well, since she was the linchpin on this whole Rube Goldberg-esque plan.

  Which shouldn’t be such a big problem for Daniel, but he kept thinking about The Kiss. Yeah, he had put the moves on Samantha as a ploy to make her look bed-mussed, but he was the one who’d ended up a muss . . . uh, mess. Talk about hair-trigger arousals and sex images now imprinted on his fool brain for life! Or at least until he replaced those images with some even more graphic ones. He could hope!

  Bottom line: he wanted to do it again. And more.

  And he couldn’t . . . wouldn’t . . . shouldn’t.

  What a muss-mess!

  Muss-mess? Good Lord! I’m starting to think like Tante Lulu.

  All these thoughts were going through Daniel’s mind while he was upstairs in the only furnished bedroom. Well, it had an IKEA king-size bed and a tall, two-door chest for storing clothing (there being no closets in these old homes . . . due to taxes in historic times being based on number of closets). A matching, smaller-sized bedroom set was in the garconniére, which was a BOGO, Aaron had told him at the time of purchase. Buy one, get another one free. The things he learned in this renovation project!

  Daniel was watching Aaron pack a duffel bag with a change of clothes and Dopp Kit with personal products. You’d think he was going on a trip, and not just across the yard.

  “Listen, Dan, this is your problem, not mine. You brought her . . . them . . . here. Deal with it.”

  “Yeah, but she called you. You were her first choice for rescuer.”

  “Oh, no, no, no. First responders take precedence.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “It’s a man thing.”

  “Bullshit!”

  “You stepped up to the plate, Mickey Mantle. That means you save the day. And by the way, if you’re planning on hitting a home run, change the sheets.”

  “You’re disgusting.”

  “I know.” Aaron grinned, as if Daniel had paid him a compliment. “Where’s my phone, by the way?”

  “Out in my car. In the console.” He waved a hand toward the window fronting the driveway. “If the pig didn’t eat it.”

  Aaron grinned.

  Daniel had to grin then, too. It was a ludicrous situation.

  He walked over to his apartment with Aaron and gathered a few items himself . . . shaving kit, underwear, clean T-shirt, and shorts . . . then sat down wearily on the sofa.

  “You know, Dan, this could be dangerous,” his brother said, sinking down to the sofa beside him.

  Daniel nodded. “Tell me about it. You didn’t see the two gun-wielding mob dimwits.”

  “Death by stupidity is still death,” Aaron remarked.

  “I’m calling Lucien LeDeux this morning. I don’t care what Angus says. Luc can advise us on whether to involve the police. And, dammit, as a doctor I have an obligation to report the kind of shenanigans that Coltrane is involved in.”

  “Shenanigans? Been hangin’ around Tante Lulu much?”

  “Way too much!”

  “You still have that pistol?” Aaron asked him then.

  “Yes, but I’ve never shot at a human before. Just targets. And snakes.” Even though Tante Lulu recommended killing the snakes with a shovel, he just couldn’t see himself getting that close. And bullets made for a cleaner kill.

  Aaron enjoyed hunting and had several rifles and firearms. Back in Alaska, he’d often bagged a caribou and brought back enough venison to fill the freezer of their mother and Aunt Mel. Daniel, on the other hand, had never had the time or inclination. He had bought a pistol, though, and trained himself in its use, when there had been a string of drug-related armed robberies at the medical center where he’d worked.

  “I have a couple jobs today, taking some Japanese bigshots out to the oil rigs,” Aaron said then. “I wish I could stick around and help you.”

  “Sure you do,” Daniel said. “I’ll tell you one thing. You need to get some more furniture for the house. Not just because of the gang I brought here tonight, but if Aunt Mel decides to come, you can’t have her sleeping on an air mattress.”

  “You’re right. Well, you’ve got a plantation credit card. Go out today and buy some stuff.”

  “Buy some stuff,” he muttered. “Me? Furniture shopping?”

  “You went with me when I picked out paint colors.”

  “And had a headache for three days afterward. Who knew there were fifty colors of white? Honey Milk, Lily of the Valley, White Wisp, Summer Fog. And then you getting it on against the paint can shaking machine with the sales clerk.”

  “I did not ‘get it on.’ I was just talking to Melinda. Her brother is a pilot in the Air Force Reserve,” Aaron contended. Then, “You can do it, Dan. Just a little shopping.”

  “Would that be before or after I meet with the LeDeuxs? Before or after I give Lily Beth the prenatal exam Samantha insists on? Before or after I check to see if this dump has any kind of security system? Before or after I put the brakes on Tante Lulu’s plans to set up a medical practice for me on the bayou?” When did I turn into such a whiner? Daniel thought with disgust.

  “Is that all?” Aaron was clearly amused.

  “Another thing.” If I’m going to be a whiner, I’m going to do it big-time. “Do you have any food in this place? Real food? I saw a bunch of mouse traps when I went into the kitchen to get a glass of water, but I didn’t check the cupboards. There is a fridge, isn’t there?”

  “There’s an old fridge, but they have new spiffy models with ice water dispensers and wine chilling racks. I heard about one that has a beer tap in it. Of
course, it costs about ten thou, but hey!”

  “That renovation budget of yours isn’t worth crap. How much have you spent so far?”

  “You only live once, bro,” Aaron answered, clearly avoiding a disclosure of expenditures. “And while you’re at it, bro, I wouldn’t mind a party crisping drawer, the kind you can put a whole tray of hors d’oeuvres in.”

  “Planning a lot of parties, are you, bro?”

  “I might. Hell, every time the LeDeuxs stop by, it’s a party. Besides, if Aunt Mel does come, we probably should have a welcome party. Wonder if she’ll be bringing her Barry Manilow CDs?”

  Daniel groaned.

  “Anyhow, I don’t know about groceries. I don’t do much cooking.”

  “No kidding.”

  “But there is a ton of Tante Lulu’s leftovers from her impromptu lawn party here earlier today . . . rather yesterday. Peachy Praline Cobbler Cake, beignets, boudin sausage, mini muffulettas, crawfish po-boys, a couple salads, Cajun pickles . . . in fact, there’s no room left in that icebox to hold even one bottle of beer.”

  “So, cake and pickles for breakfast?”

  “There you go,” Aaron said.

  “That should please Lily Beth,” Daniel remarked. “Please don’t tell me that you expect me to shop for furniture, and a fridge.”

  “Well . . .” Aaron grinned some more, then added. “You might want to buy a small freezer, too. If one of Delilah’s gators trespasses on this property, I plan to shoot it. They say gator meat tastes just like chicken.”

  “Don’t you dare shoot any gators. We don’t want to draw attention to this place. Plus, it’s probably against the law.”

  “The Swamp People do it.”

  “And now you’re one of the Swamp People?”

  “I’m just sayin’.” Aaron yawned loudly and stood, stretching. “It’s two a.m. I’m gonna hit the sack for a couple hours. Wake me when you decide what to do.”