by Emery, Lynn
“You’re establishing a dynasty then.” LaShaun felt a prickle along her arms. Greg believed what he was saying, and she knew he wasn’t alone in his thinking.
“Yes.” Greg rubbed the knife against his thigh as he stared at LaShaun. “With your voodoo skills we could do some damage, make faster progress. I’d even give you a baby or two. Yeah, my women will give birth to a master generation.”
Jenna tried to pull away from him. That’s disgusting. She’s old enough to be your mother.”
“Shut the hell up. You’re nothing special. Just because your daddy has a little money, so fucking what? The kids at school make fun of you all the time. Your family is only a step up from trailer trash,” Greg said and laughed.
“No!” Jenna covered her ears.
LaShaun sensed that Greg had touched on Jenna’s weak spot. The girl had deep insecurities about her family background. No doubt the privileged kids at their expensive private school let everyone know who was “in” and who was “out”.
Greg pulled her close and spoke in her ear. “Your daddy is vice president of nothing at a company nobody cares about. All I wanted was to sample that tight little pussy, and you gave it up fast. Didn’t you?”
“No, no,” Jenna cried. The heartbreak dripped from her quivering lips. “Why are you saying these things?”
“Because it’s true,” Greg shot back.
LaShaun heard the keening sound of sirens, but Greg hadn’t noticed yet. He was whispering insults into Jenna’s ears until the girl seemed about to collapse. “Greg, you need to put down the knife and let her go. I’ll take her home.”
“Hell no. We’re going to party. I feel like a threesome tonight. Right, Jen? Just like with me, you and Elliot that time.” Greg laughed when Jenna responded with a wail.
“I never, I never did,” she sobbed.
“Oh yes you most certainly did, babe. I’ve got the cell phone pictures to prove it.” Greg cackled. He stopped laughing and tilted his head to one side. “What’s that sound?”
“Listen to me, Greg. Deputies are on the way here. Put down the knife so nobody gets hurt,” LaShaun said slow as calmly as she could.
“Sneaky bitch, huh? You were in there calling the cops. Not that it matters. They can’t touch me.” Greg seemed to relax instead of becoming nervous.
“Let Jen come stand by me.”
Greg pulled Jenna tightly against his body making her whimper. “You still don’t get it, do you? We’re rulers.
“Dear Lord in Heaven, loose the evil binding his mind. Pull the demon’s veil from his eyes so that he may see clearly,” LaShaun prayed, her words barely audible.
“That won’t…” Greg blinked rapidly for several seconds as though waking up from a hypnotic trance. He looked around. “My… my head hurts.”
The screech of the sirens sliced through the night getting louder. Flashing blue lights flashed through the trees as headlights swung down Rousselle Lane. The first cruiser turned onto LaShaun’s long driveway seconds later.
“Just let Jenna come over here to me, Greg. We’ll get you some help.” LaShaun glanced over to see Chase step carefully out of his official car. She held up a hand hoping he’d give her time to talk Greg down.
Greg followed her gaze. “They should leave me the alone.”
“I’ll call your mother, and then we can all sit down to talk,” LaShaun said. She deliberately didn’t mention his father since Greg seemed to have a lot of anger toward him.
“She’s here?” Greg sounded, and for a second looked like a little boy who’d wandered away from his mother. He half turned as though looking for her.
“Not yet, but we can get her here fast.” LaShaun could feel the adrenalin of the growing number of law enforcement professionals arriving. The night air crackled with tension. Her stomach dropped when Greg’s expression changed again.
“You’re lying, bitch. You called them to stop us, but you’re too late.” He jerked Jenna with him while backing away.
“You don’t wanna do that, Greg,” Chase said, his voice made more menacing by the loud speaker atop his cruiser.
“Of course I want to, you dumb fuck. You think I’d be here otherwise?” Greg shouted back.
“You came to talk to me for a reason,” LaShaun said quickly to buy time. Waves of anxiety and the need for action came to her from Chase, but also from the other five officers in the dark.
“I thought you would understand. Don’t pretend you’re my friend now. I know about you. Everybody knows.” Greg twisted around. “Hey, I see you out there.”
“Greg, listen to me.” LaShaun mustered the authority of a maternal authority figure into her voice. “Put down the knife. Jenna is not worth going to jail for, right? You said so a minute ago.”
“Greg…” Chase barked.
“Give us a minute. Please,” LaShaun yelled back at Chase. “Those deputies will shoot, Greg. There’s no need for that. I do understand.”
His face softened into a look of tortured despair. “I don’t want to be damned, but my life is already a kind of living hell.”
“What does that mean, Greg? Put down the knife and let Jen go home. Then you can tell me about these people who got you into something bad,” LaShaun replied holding her hand out. “You need to give me the knife.”
“No, LaShaun! Back away from him,” Chase called out. He was about to say more when M.J. stepped up and spoke to him. He hesitated, but after a few beats handed her the handset.
“Son, we’re willing to listen. You need to drop that weapon so this can end peacefully. I know that’s what you want. It’s what we all want.” M.J. spoke in a reasonable tone.
LaShaun still held out her hand. “C’mon, Greg. Let’s call it a night and talk without all this drama, huh?”
Greg looked at her hand, his lips quivering. When Greg inched two steps closer to LaShaun, he stretched out his arm and extended the knife to her. When he took another step, so did LaShaun.
“Give it to me handle first.” LaShaun stopped moving closer to him. Something shifted in his expression. “Okay, put it down on the floor instead. Move slowly.”
“Yeah,” Greg said still gazing at LaShaun. He bent forward and down, taking Jenna with him.
“Let go of me you freak,” Jenna screamed. She jerked out of his grasp and scrambled away to jump off the porch.
Greg howled out his rage. “I’m going to finish off that bitch,” Greg screeched.
He slashed LaShaun’s forearm with the knife. She felt no pain, only the warm flow of blood. When she kicked a leg from under him, and Greg sank to one knee. Before he could recover, LaShaun stomped on the arm holding the knife. His expression registered shock and confusion. The world slowed down like a stop action video as deputies charged forward with Chase in the lead. LaShaun started to yell at them not to shoot, but Chase moved fast to protect her. M.J. made it to the porch at almost the same second as Chase. She pulled LaShaun down to the ground. The scene blurred into chaos with shouts, curses and flashing lights.
Gunshot cracked through the voices and Greg fell silent. Everyone froze in place as if someone had hit the pause button on a horror movie. After a few seconds the spell broke, and the cops sprang into action again. Jenna wailed in terror as she crouched on the ground behind a gardenia bush.
“Stupid little shit,” Chase grumbled.
LaShaun woke from her daze to stare at him. What she saw frightened her more than the out of control teenager with a knife. Chase had no trace of sympathy for the young man bleeding on the porch floor. She watched as he stepped back to let his fellow law officers follow procedure.
“You need to give me your gun so it can be examined,” M.J. said in a muted tone. She gazed at Chase with a troubled frown.
“It was a clean shoot. He went after two hostages with a knife. He even wounded one,” Chase said as though practicing his speech for the interview to come, since any police shooting required a review.
“Yeah,” M.J. replied and then turn
ed to LaShaun. “I’ve got paramedics on the way. Deputy Ricard, find something to wrap LaShaun’s wound.”
Chase seemed to notice LaShaun for the first time. “I’ll do it. C’mon, baby. You’re gonna be okay. At least that kid won’t be taking out anymore victims.”
“Chase,” LaShaun said sharply. She glanced at M.J. who shook her head slowly.
“I’m just telling the truth. Now let’s make sure you don’t bleed out before the medical cavalry gets here,” he replied without bothering to look at Greg or ask if he was alive. He led LaShaun into the house while whistling a jaunty Cajun tune.
Chapter 11
The next two days sped by LaShaun in a dizzying whirl of answering questions from deputies, and dodging questions from reporters. Greg was alive, but just barely. Chase had taken aim with deadly precision, a single shot to the head. Greg lay in a coma. He’d been transferred from the small hospital outside Beau Chene to a trauma center in Baton Rouge once he’d been stabilized. By the end of the week, LaShaun simply wanted the world to stay out of her way. Savannah came over for lunch Thursday morning. They didn’t dare try to eat out, not with all the attention. Cameras clicked like crazy when LaShaun showed up anywhere. A reporter would pop out of nowhere like a magician.
By twelve thirty, LaShaun had homemade chicken salad, coleslaw and raspberry lemonade set up on her back porch. The stitches and thick bandage on her left arm didn’t keep her from regular tasks. The early March day had turned warm, though a breeze kept it cool. Savannah drove around to the back of the house and blew her horn as a greeting. She climbed out of her Toyota Rav4. She kept talking on her cell phone as she pushed the SUV door shut with a foot.
“Hey, girl,” LaShaun called to her.
“Okay. I’ll call you next week. Bye.” Savannah ended the call and dropped the phone in her jacket pocket. She heaved a sigh as she climbed the back steps and took a seat. “Damn, can’t I just have lunch without anybody getting sued, disinherited, or arrested?”
“Don’t complain. If folks clean up their messes, you wouldn’t get paid,” LaShaun retorted.
Savannah perked up. “Good point. How’s your arm, and how are you doing out here in exile?”
“The arm’s fine. Just itching like crazy because it’s healing. And I don’t give a crap about reporters or gossip. I’ve got a real problem,” LaShaun said, her taste for food drying up on her tongue. She poured a glass of lemonade for Savannah from a glass pitcher.
Savannah sighed as she climbed the steps to the porch. “This isn’t just a chance for girlfriends to get together type lunch, is it? This is a ‘I need a lawyer’ lunch.”
LaShaun smiled at her friend despite her troubled thoughts. “Stop trying to make me laugh, crazy woman.”
“From the look on your face, you need it,” Savannah replied. She accepted the lemonade, took a long sip, and squared her shoulders. “Okay, talk to me.”
“I’m not even sure how to explain it.” LaShaun paced instead of sitting down.
After a few seconds of watching LaShaun walk the length of the porch and back, Savannah shrugged. “Take your time. I’ll just help myself to some food.”
“Uh-huh.” LaShaun continued to pace for a few moments longer. Suddenly she stopped, turned her back to Savannah, and gazed into the distance. Sunlight and blue skies made a stark contrast to the dark subject she had to broach. Then she faced her friend. “I want to make sure Chase isn’t elected sheriff.”
Savannah froze in the act of bringing a fork full of chicken salad to her mouth. “S’cuse me?”
“I’m not sure I can save Chase from the demon trying to take over him in time. The election is less than a month away and…”
“Back the hell up.” Savannah dropped the fork in her hand. She didn’t notice it bounce from the plate onto the floor. “Please tell me you didn’t say something about demon possession. Please.”
“The signs are clear, Savannah. I… I’m losing him slowly.” LaShaun’s legs felt weak. She finally sank onto a chair.
Savannah pushed the food away. “I don’t think either of us is in the mood to eat right now. Keep talking.”
“Do you think they’ll charge Chase for shooting Greg?” LaShaun asked.
“Unlikely. Greg had a knife, he held two women hostage, and injured one of them. Some may question that he overreacted,” Savannah replied.
“Greg’s parents for sure,” LaShaun broke in.
“Oh yes, there is going to be a lawsuit. Here’s the odd thing, that lawyer trying to get Manny Young out of prison is advising them.” Savannah nodded.
LaShaun blinked hard as that news rattled around her brain. “What is going on?”
“He’s not representing them. One of his pals from New Orleans is the attorney of record. He’s a top civil litigator in the state, too. If I had to guess, I’d say they’re going to argue that the use of deadly force wasn’t necessary. But we know better. Right?” Savannah stared hard at LaShaun.
“I knocked the knife out of his hand, Savannah. Chase saw the knife on the floor, but he shot Greg anyway.” LaShaun shuddered at the words she hadn’t dared to speak aloud. She had only whispered them in prayers offered up for guidance on what to do.
“So Greg surrendered?” Savannah said in a steady, measured manner. The friend had transformed into the experienced attorney.
“What?” LaShaun stared back at her.
Savannah sat on the edge of her chair. “Chase faced a dangerous situation. Things moved fast, I mean like a high speed train bearing down on him. Any cop will tell you that once a hostage is hurt, the plan is to neutralize the threat. There’s no time to say, ‘Gee, I sure hope he doesn’t get his hands on that knife again’.”
LaShaun gazed back at her friend in silence for several moments. Finally she let out the breath she’d been holding. “I was there, Savannah. Chase didn’t have to shoot Greg. He wanted to hurt him.”
“Of course he wanted to protect you, and the girl. Don’t forget he had two people at risk,” Savannah insisted.
“I’d pretty much kicked that kid’s ass and Chase knew it, Savannah! He’s seen me defend myself before. I’m no damsel in distress in a fight.”
“Hmm…” Savannah eased back in the seat.
“M.J. asked me about Chase’s personality change. He’s more aggressive on the job. Look at the kid he arrested a week ago or so.”
“A known drug dealer,” Savannah countered.
“I know, I know.” LaShaun massaged the tight muscles in her neck. “On the surface he’s just a tough cop getting the job done, the perfect man to be sheriff.”
“He’s moved ahead of Dave Godchaux in the polls according to the newspaper this morning,” Savannah replied.
“I feel like I’m going crazy.”
“Ahem, you said it,” Savannah murmured. She held up both hands when LaShaun glared at her. “Will you listen to yourself? Chase is saving lives, and you call it demon possession.”
“No, that’s not what I…” LaShaun stomped over to the chair and sat again. “Okay, pay attention. This is me, the girl who stirred up some seriously dangerous supernatural shit back in the day. Remember? I have visions of things that have happened. I don’t usually see happy ever after events either, so this is no fun for me.”
Savannah leaned forward. “You’re right. I need to listen to you. Lord knows you used that voodoo stuff on me enough when we were kids. You hated my guts back then. Whew!”
“So can we stop debating if I’m just imagining things please? I need your advice,” LaShaun snapped.
“Legal advice I got, but don’t ask me about paranormal phenomena. They didn’t have a course on that in law school,” Savannah said, totally serious. When LaShaun squinted at her, Savannah smiled. “You haven’t described Chase doing anything more than being a zealous lawman. And you’re sure Chase knew he didn’t have to shoot Greg?”
LaShaun turned to stare into the woods, land that had been in her family for five generations. She knew ever
y inch, every leaf and every tree still standing. “Chase is good at what he does. He could have taken control of Greg without pulling out his gun. That wasn’t the man I know and love.”
Savannah stood. “Then honey, you don’t need a lawyer. You need a powerful voodoo woman, and that’s you.”
“I’m too close to Chase to be of any use. I can’t concentrate because I’m so scared for him. Besides, the fact that I brought it here ties my hands for some reason,” LaShaun said quietly.
“You’ve got to at least try,” Savannah insisted.
“Odette LeGrange Rousselle would know what to do. Only she can advise me,” LaShaun said.
“Yeah, except she’s…” Savannah took a step back from LaShaun. She put a hand over her heart. “You’re not going to do something creepy like…”
LaShaun faced her friend with a somber expression. “Try to communicate with the dead. That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
***
LaShaun drove to Mouton Cove. She rehearsed her speech over and over, both logical arguments and emotional appeals. By the time she reached the sprawling ranch home, LaShaun had her lines down pat. But she might as well have saved herself the trouble. After a few moments of chitchat she made her pitch. Miss Rose looked at her in horror.
“Non! Not even for Odette’s child would I agree to such craziness. Haven’t you learned the dangers of calling on the spirit world?”
“But Miss Rose, it’s not…”
“I said no,” Miss Rose cut her off quickly.
LaShaun held up a hand when Miss Rose opened her mouth again. “Miss Rose, at least let me finish a sentence.”
“Um-humph,” Miss Rose retorted. “You gonna hafta to make this argument real good.”
“Our family journal, the oldest one from my ancestor Jacques LeGrange, has a lot of… guidance about connecting to the other side. I’m not as strong as Monmon Odette was, even in her later years,” LaShaun said.
“You mean when we both got old. That’s a strange way to try and sweet talk me.” Miss Rose squinted at her.
“Monmon Odette tried to banish the spirit when she was young. Only she didn’t. For almost two hundred years our ancestors have been calling this thing forth. As she lay dying, Monmon Odette tried to tell me what to do, but… she ran out of time.” LaShaun paused as the memory of seeing her beloved grandmother slip away. She blinked as her eyes filled with tears.
