by Emery, Lynn
“Damn, don’t sound so happy about it,” LaShaun complained.
She got up from the counter, covered the small bowl of gumbo, and put it in the fridge. Just as she started to wash her few dishes, the front door chimes trilled. LaShaun glanced at the clock, wondering who had driven out so far at night. She went to a window in the formal parlor and peeked out. Her friend, attorney Savannah Honoré, stood on the porch in the soft yellow porch light. Her husband Paul was with her, which shocked LaShaun. Paul was polite whenever they happened to meet, but LaShaun knew he had qualms about the wisdom of Savannah being friends with the infamous voodoo woman of Beau Chene. The fact that LaShaun kept getting pulled into gruesome and weird crimes didn’t ease his mind. LaShaun unlocked the front door.
“Good evening. Come in and satisfy my curiosity,” LaShaun said with a grin at Savannah and a nod to Paul.
“Hello. I tried to talk Savannah out of dropping in without calling. Cell phones make it easy,” Paul said and gave an exasperated grunt.
Savannah locked the front door like she was at home. Then she gave LaShaun a quick hug. “Oh will you stop. I had a weak signal on my wonderfully advanced smart phone, so I couldn’t call. Hey girl. How y’all doin’?” Savannah asked.
“Come on back to the kitchen. I was just in there watching television. I made gumbo today. Y’all welcome to have some,” LaShaun said and led the way down the hallway.
“Nah, we can’t stay long. We gotta go pick up the kids. You remember Charice, don’t you?” Savannah hopped on a stool and patted the one next to her. Her husband sat down obediently.
“Yes,” LaShaun replied.
Savannah and Charice had been best buds since the third grade. Now they both had a set of twin girls, and even more in common. Charice’s girls were older than the Honoré eleven-year-olds, and more like older sisters the girls idolized. LaShaun smiled as she imagined the combined energy and noise four girls would make. A wave of longing swept over her as she thought about having a family. Paul’s deep voice broke into her thoughts.
“Nice kitchen. I like the red and brown color scheme, makes this large space look homey.” Paul rubbed a palm over the granite countertop in appreciation.
“Why thank you,” LaShaun said. She watched in amusement as he studied the rest of room. “No eye of newt and tongue of dog. Just chicken and sausage gumbo in the pot,” she joked, making a reference to the witches brew from Shakespeare’s play Macbeth.
Paul blinked for a second, then burst out laughing. “Okay, okay. I deserved that. I was thinking how… um, normal the placed looked.”
“I hid the jars of dead black cats and goofer dust,” LaShaun replied laughing with him.
Savannah slapped her husband’s shoulder playfully. “Don’t come in here embarrassing me. Oh, wait a minute. You’ve never been to LaShaun’s house before.”
“And he wasn’t sure what to expect, so he came to protect you from eee-vil,” LaShaun intoned in a deep, horror movie tone of voice.
“Well, I wouldn’t put it quite that way,” Paul said with a sheepish half-grin at his wife.
“Oh Lawd have mercy, Paul.” Savannah shook her head.
“No, he’s got a good point, especially with everything happening around here lately. I don’t blame him for worrying about you wandering around at night these days,” LaShaun said.
Paul and Savannah glanced at each other. As if on some silent cue they’d agreed on beforehand, Paul stood and pointed to the television. “I’m going to watch the sports channel if y’all don’t mind.”
“Sure,” LaShaun said.
She watched him cross the open floor plan to the family room area. He found the remote and moments later seemed engrossed in reports on scores. Ex-athletes exchanged banter about upcoming games and made predictions. LaShaun turned back to Savannah with her eyebrows raised.
“So now you’re going to tell me the reason for this visit, huh? You guys have been married long enough that you’ve got the secret signals perfected,” LaShaun joked.
“Yeah, and I’ll bet you already have the same connection to Chase. I’ve seen you two together. I’m so looking forward to your wedding.” Savannah grinned at LaShaun. “Girl, y’all the talk of Beau Chene. My daddy is happy for you, too. He says your mama and Miss Odette would be so proud.”
Antoine St. Julien had always been kindly toward LaShaun. LaShaun smiled. “Tell him I said hello. Now back to the subject of you dragging poor Paul out here. You took a detour out to my house because…” LaShaun sat down and crossed her arms.
“Allison Graham asked me to come out and talk to you,” Savannah said low.
“Who is that?” LaShaun blinked at her.
“Her son, Greg, was one of the teenagers found hanging from three different oak trees,” Savannah said with a grim frown.
“No,” LaShaun blurted out.
“Greg is the only survivor who’s talking. The girl, Rebecca Saucier, is still in shock. She won’t say a word. The third kid, a boy named Elliot Dubois, was pronounced dead at the scene.” Savannah spoke quietly as she glanced over at her husband. Paul seemed engrossed with the sports report and took no notice.
“Tell his mama I didn’t have anything to do with it,” LaShaun retorted. She cut in before Savannah could reply. “No, I’m sick of people around here saying I’m involved in every freaky act their kinfolks get into.”
“LaShaun, she—”
“I don’t care what she’s heard, Savannah. It’s her fault she didn’t know what her darlin’ boy got up to in the woods.”
“Just shut your mouth for ten seconds,” Savannah said through clenched teeth. She sighed when LaShaun crossed her arms.
“I’m listening.” LaShaun glared back at her friend.
“She’s not blaming you for anything. In fact. she came to my Abbeville office and—”
LaShaun leaned forward. “Wait a minute. You have an Abbeville office? Ms. Big Time Attorney got multiple offices.”
“Yes, I’m practicing with another attorney in Iberia and Lafayette Parishes,” Savannah said. “Now for the last time, stop interrupting me, damn it.”
“Promise to tell me about your plan to rule the legal world later.” LaShaun grinned at her. When Savannah squinted back, LaShaun sighed. “Alright, alright. Go ahead. Allison Graham snuck out of town to consult you.”
“Exactly. Oh she tried to play it off. She claimed she was going to be in Abbeville anyway and that meeting there would be more convenient, so I agreed to the cloak and dagger stuff. Came in with a scarf wrapped around her face, dark sunglasses, and her hair tucked into a knit hat,” Savannah said.
“Can’t say I blame her with all the sensational talk going around the parish,” LaShaun replied.
“Luckily, M.J. has kept details from leaking to the media, but we have a short window of opportunity before the hounds are released.” Savannah got up and went to the fridge. She found a bottle of cream soda and then turned to her husband. “Honey, you want something to drink?”
“If LaShaun doesn’t mind, a beer would be nice,” Paul called back.
“She’s fine with it,” Savannah replied and found a bottle of a locally brewed beer. She talked as she found tortilla chips and poured them into a large bowl. She filled a smaller bowl for herself.
“No problem, Paul. Obviously your wife knows where everything is in my kitchen,” LaShaun quipped as Savannah took a wooden tray and carried him the snacks.
“Shush, I’m going to keep him happy so I can tell you this story,” Savannah whispered as she walked past LaShaun. “There you go. We’ll be ready to leave in a bit.”
“Um-hum,” Paul answered without taking his gaze from the television. When Savannah put the tray on the end table near his elbow, he picked up the beer. “Thanks, ladies.”
Savannah sat down next to LaShaun again. “Anyway, Mrs. Graham is afraid Greg got involved in some kind of Goth group at school. They started off playing one of those spooky role-playing games, Wizards and Witches or
something. She’s not even sure what it’s called. The kids made it up.”
“Lovely. Violent video games got boring I suppose,” LaShaun blurted out. When Savannah gave her a mean look, she raised a hand. “Sorry, sorry. Keep going.”
“Mrs. Graham wants to know if you and Chase have been investigating any… Ahem, demonic activity or something equally silly. I told her I would ask, but honestly, I thought you’d get a kick out of this. Ha, ha.” Savannah gave a weak laugh and studied LaShaun as though looking for a sign. “Please laugh this off with me and tell me it’s absurd.”
“Hmm.” LaShaun frowned.
“Oh hell,” Savannah muttered and glanced over at her husband. “Paul is talking about us moving out of the parish, not just the town. I mean, serial killers, gossip about loup garou, and now this.”
“Ah c’mon, he won’t insist on moving. Would he? Your father and aunt are getting on in years,” LaShaun said. Not to mention LaShaun would miss her friend.
“He’s worried the girls could get sucked into some crazy peer group. I can’t argue with his reasoning. Look at what Allison Graham and her husband are going through. They’re an upper-class family. One day her blonde-haired boy next door is playing little league baseball. Then he’s a teenager hanging out in the woods at night dressed in black from head to toe.”
“Being a parent can be scary, huh?” LaShaun blinked hard at Savannah.
“You best believe it. So…” Savannah gazed back at LaShaun.
“The last three or four crimes were plain old human sin. Maybe these kids got carried away with this role playing. The news reports say there were possibly other kids involved. What did Mrs. Graham say about that?” LaShaun asked.
“She’s talked to the sheriff’s deputies for sure, one of Chase’s guys on the criminal investigation team. They’re also talking to the kids at school,” Savannah said and munched on a chip.
“Chase hasn’t said anything to me, but then, he doesn’t routinely bring his work home. We’ve got more stuff to talk about,” LaShaun replied and ate a chip from Savannah’s bowl.
“Sure, like the wedding plans and which house you’re going to live in.” Savannah smiled at the more pleasant topics.
“Yes, and how his mother probably won’t be at the wedding. She’ll probably try to guilt the rest of the family to boycott.” LaShaun shook her head.
“Well, at least you know which house to pick; whichever one is farther away from her,” Savannah wisecracked in a graveyard humor tone.
LaShaun burst out in a loud laugh. Paul pulled his attention away from the sports channel for a second before going back to it. She had to wait a few moments before regaining control. “That was a good one. I needed a laugh about the Broussard family drama. Whew.”
Savannah grinned. “Girl, please. You’ve faced down demons. A mean motherin-law will be like a day at the beach.”
LaShaun gave a snort. “You’ve never met Chase’s mother. We’ll deal with her tantrums. Now back to Mrs. Graham and her wayward boy.”
“Yeah, them,” Savannah replied and lost her expression of good humor. “Mrs. Graham is hoping to blame somebody other than her son.”
“Chase’s investigators think he did it?” LaShaun looked at Savannah with interest.
“Greg was injured, but not as severely as the other two kids. He was released from the hospital a couple of days after being admitted that night. I mean, the other two can’t talk. And he won’t.”
LaShaun faced her fully. “So you’re going to be his lawyer because you expect the investigators to consider him a suspect eventually.”
Savannah shook her head. “Mr. and Mrs. Graham hired a lawyer while Greg was still in the hospital; a top criminal defense attorney from Lafayette. A couple of their friends recommended me; because I know you. Remember I was involved in that adventure with,” she dropped her voice low, “The Blood River Ripper.”
“Oh my good Lord.” LaShaun rolled her eyes. “Reassure Mr. and Mrs. All American that Greg slipped into no-good all on his own. The devil didn’t make him do it.”
“I have a feeling that won’t reassure them,” Savannah said.
“That’s all I got.” LaShaun shrugged.
“You can’t blame her for asking after some of the stuff that’s gone on in Vermilion Parish,” Savannah said and stood.
“Yes, I can as a matter of fact. They’re looking to build a defense. Well sorry, I’m fresh out of supernatural beings to give them a hand,” LaShaun retorted. “Now you and your hard-working hubby go collect your kids. I’ll send you home with a big container of gumbo, some potato salad and jalapeno corn bread. You won’t have to cook, and the kids can get to bed on time. That way they’ll be fresh tomorrow morning for school.”
“Don’t go to any trouble,” Savannah replied.
“I’ve got a big pot and more than enough.” LaShaun got up and got busy fixing their take home food.
“Aw, look at you. You’re already preparing to feed a family.” Then Savannah’s eyes went wide. “Hey, are you…?”
LaShaun paused in the act of scooping up gumbo with a ladle and filling a plastic container. “Am I what?”
“You know,” Savannah said and nodded at LaShaun.”
“Huh? No! Don’t you start gossip about me being pregnant either.”
“I wouldn’t,” Savannah protested and wore an affronted expression. Then she giggled. “Wouldn’t that chap Mrs. Broussard’s behind!”
LaShaun grimaced. “You’ll be the first one to get a famous Rousselle curse in one hundred years.”
Savannah waved a hand. “Relax. I’m only going to tell a few close friends. I’m kidding, just kidding.” She let out a squeal when LaShaun pretended to swing the ladle at her head.
“Y’all need to quit playing around. Hey, we gonna have gumbo tonight,” Paul said as he strolled in. “Babe, we better get a move on. Thanks so much for the good food, LaShaun.”
“You’re quite welcome. Now take your troublemaker wife home.” LaShaun pretended to swing at her again.
Savannah burst out laughing. “Don’t spill my gumbo.”
Ten minutes later, Savannah and Paul were on their way out of LaShaun’s front door. Paul carried a canvas tote bag with all the fixings for a down home Creole supper. He went ahead to load the car and Savannah turned to LaShaun.
“I’m going to assure Mrs. Graham that she needs human legal advice only, no demon hunter intervention,” Savannah said. She stared at LaShaun hard.
“What? I said there’s nothing paranormal going on… that I know of.” LaShaun squirmed under Savannah’s sharp-eyed legal gaze.
“Oh hell naw. Here we freakin’ go again with the spooky stuff,” Savannah spat out in a harsh whisper. Then she turned to Paul who was already sitting in their car. “I’m coming, sweetie.”
“I swear I’m telling the whole truth and nothing but the truth,” LaShaun said. She raised her right hand as though taking an oath on the witness stand.
Savannah started to walk off then came back. “Anything changes, you let me know ASAP, especially if it means you’ll need a lawyer again.”
“I’m staying out of trouble,” LaShaun assured her. After exchanging goodbyes again, LaShaun shut and locked the front door. “I hope.”
***
At two o’clock the next morning. LaShaun came awake. She instinctively threw out an arm to feel for Chase. Then she sighed and rolled over. Determined to get back to sleep. she tried to ignore the blue glow from her digital clock. Watching the numbers change would not help her go back to sleep. She closed her eyes and let her mind drift away. The light seemed to pulse through her eyelids. LaShaun bolted upright into clear thinking from the soft haze of drowsiness. She got out of bed. When she drew aside the curtains of one of the windows that faced her woods, her heart thumped. A soft silvery blue fog pulsed behind a stand of trees to the west. LaShaun glanced up at the full, lustrous moon against the night sky. A wispy cloud drifted across the pearl white disc and then dri
fted down to the woods. She blinked at the sight and rubbed her eyes. Was her imagination playing tricks? With quicksilver motions, LaShaun got dressed in jeans, waterproof boots, and a heavy flannel shirt. She pulled on an insulated rain jacket and retrieved her knife and grandmother’s rosary. She whispered a fervent prayer, and then headed down the hallway to her back door. Then she stopped and went back to her bedroom.
“Might as well be well armed,” she murmured.
LaShaun found her Remington derringer. The lovely scroll work on the barrel made it look like a fashion accessory; it was a deadly fashion accessory with silver bullets. Then she pulled on supple leather gloves she’d special ordered. They would keep her hands warm but not interfere with her grip on the knife or gun. Loaded and ready for a fight, she went outside. Moonlight washed across the backyard, competing with the security light to the west of her house. She listened to the night.
Leaves rustled as the cold wind blew through the trees and bushes. Furry creatures did not creep out in the wintery night. Instead they hunkered down in burrows or hallowed out tree trunks. So LaShaun didn’t expect to hear the kind of night sounds that came with spring or summer. The blue mist strangely retreated deeper into the woods. Suddenly the swish and whispery noise of the wind changed. A sound like breathing filled the air around her. If she hadn’t known better, LaShaun would have thought a huge giant animal crouched nearby… a hunter stalking prey, waiting in the dark to strike at just the right time. LaShaun started at a realization of something different. The mist floated beyond her woods, away from the historic Rousselle family cemetery. A sharp chill raced along her arms and down her back. If this demon was no longer tethered to her woods, where else could it travel? She walked backwards until the heel of her right boot hit the back steps. LaShaun continued to scan her surroundings as she opened the back door with her key. Once inside. she wrapped both arms around her to stop the shivering. A thumping sound made her jump. When she heard footsteps, LaShaun moved away from the door. The footsteps caused a crunching sound on the fine gravel driveway. Suddenly the sound moved away.
