by Emery, Lynn
“Good gracious,” Rae gasped, leaning against the kitchen counter.
Simon was breathing hard. “Wow,” was all he could manage.
They stood apart for a few minutes, reeling from the power of their attraction. Neither spoke for a time. Rae needed to gather her strength. She steeled herself not to let go of her heart.
Simon faced her. “Things are moving fast.”
“At the speed of light.” Rae blinked at him.
“Too fast?” Simon stood very still.
“Maybe we should take this a few steps at a time.” Rae avoided mentioning how close they’d come to surrendering to the hot flash of passion.
“Sure. That would be a good idea.” Simon cleared his throat. “Think I better call it a night or…”
“Right.” Rae understood without him having to complete the sentence. They both knew that the resolve to take more time was on shaky ground tonight. “We’ll take it slow.”
“Right… Slow.” Simon turned to walk out, but turned back. “Pick you up tomorrow?”
“Yes.” Rae was back in his arms, kissing him deeply within seconds. His hands gripped her shoulders.
“Goodbye,” he whispered. “See you about three. We’ll go for a ride in my boat and then have an early supper. I have to work.”
“On a Saturday?” Rae nuzzled his neck. “What a workaholic.”
“I promised to get some figures together for Darcy. But it won’t take long.” Simon gave her a peck on the forehead.
The mention of Darcy was like a cold shower. A sharp, hard intention formed in her chest. She was such a fool to forget who he was, simply because of a kiss. Rae pretended her mood had not changed and smiled. “Then I’ll see you at three.”
When he was gone, she made herself a cup of strong tea and sat at the kitchen table, rubbing the old wounds raw. Simon St. Cyr was an attractive package to be sure. He was good, no doubt about that. Did he really think she was so gullible that his kiss would be enough to fool her? For all she knew, he could be with Toya right now, laughing at her.
Rae decided she would show him that she was no weak female, to be seduced and trampled. Let him think he is in control. She would enjoy him, no need to deny that. Yet she would also exact some kind of revenge on them all.
Chapter 7
“They disappeared in 1963?” LaMar let out a long, low whistle. “Talk about a cold trail.”
LaMar Zeno, private investigator, was dressed more like an accountant on his day off. He wore a light blue short-sleeve shirt with button-down collars, tucked into cotton chino pants the color of cement. His sunglasses had a square, metal frame.
Rae had imagined a very different picture of him, based on his outrageous reputation. Maybe this is his identical twin?
“Everybody assumed Pawpaw Vincent did it. But Daddy never believed what they said,” Rae put in quickly. She was afraid this conservative-looking, young man would refuse such an unusual case. “It’s really just a missing person kind of investigation.”
“Yeah, but the persons ran off over fifty years ago, and maybe don’t want to be found,” LaMar replied.
Rae’s spirits sank. “So it’s hopeless?”
“Depends.” LaMar rubbed his chin. He got up to pace the length of Rae’s front porch. “Like how well they covered their tracks or where they went. In the forties and fifties a lot of black folks headed to California, Chicago or Detroit.”
“I don’t know about that.” Rae could not see a Dalcour choosing a big city. Lucien had always talked about how Pawpaw Vincent loved bayou country. “A Creole from south Louisiana living in a cold place like Chicago or Detroit? Sounds iffy to me,” she replied.
“Good point. But, on the other hand, he might make a sacrifice to keep from being found. Nah, you’re probably right.”
Rae looked up in surprise. “You think?”
“People are creatures of habit. He was a fisherman and worked outdoors, you say. At shipyards…”
“And anything else he could find. He loved working with his hands, Tante Ina says.”
“So I have a few places to start.” LaMar sat down on the cane rocker next to Rae. “You should know that finding folks doesn’t always lead to a happy reunion. He could be dead or not be happy at being found. Or he–”
“Might have done exactly what they say he did, and be shacked up with another man’s wife. I know.”
Rae also knew that it would hurt her much less than it would have hurt Lucien. But what about Tante Ina and Daddy’s two surviving brothers? Right now the Joves and all the rest of Belle Rose only had accusations. Rae thought it would be ironic if she helped to confirm that her own grandfather had cheated his friends and the entire town after all.
LaMar read the concern in her silence. “It’s your call, ma’am,” he spoke in a quiet voice.
Rae thought of Lucien, his nut-brown face twisted in pain on the day he made her promise. Find the truth, he’d said, no matter what that truth turned out to be. If he could face Belle Rose all these years, then so could she.
Rae made her decision. “Where do we start?”
LaMar questioned her for only another thirty minutes, since Rae did not know much about her grandfather, except for old stories from Lucien. He spent two hours in the attic, pouring over old photos and papers. When he came down, he was carrying an old, accordion folder.
He opened it to show Rae some old bills and other papers. “Is it okay if I take these with me?”
Rae shrugged. “Sure. Don’t know why Daddy held onto all that old stuff.”
“Good thing he did. I’ll get a good picture of Mr. Vincent from this. But I would like to interview some other relatives. You say his older sister lives around here?”
“Tante Ina, a feisty, sixty-four-year-old who lives on Chauvin Road. Let me talk to her; then I’ll give you a call.” Rae wondered how she would react.
“It would help to find out about Estelle Jove, too. Do you know any of her family?” LaMar opened his notepad.
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Rae said. She shook her head. “Her husband would freak if you approached him. He’s still bitter. But Tante Ina might be able to help you track down other relatives. They may be willing to talk to you.”
“Okay. In the meantime, I can check out a few things.” LaMar gazed at her. “You’re sure about this?”
“Positive. I just hope you can find out what happened.”
“I’ll check in with you at least once a week, whether there’s progress or not,” LaMar added, before leaving.
Rae glanced down at the old pictures spread on the coffee table. Pawpaw Vincent was smiling in most of them; a good-looking man. But what was behind the smile? The pictures did not show the true man, much as the conflicting stories left a confused account of who he had been.
She picked up a black and white photo with ‘August, nineteen forty-eight” written on it in faded ink. Pawpaw Vincent stood with his two best friends, Henry Jove and Joseph St. Cyr. The men looked barely out of their teens. They stared into the camera looking young, strong and hopeful. It was like staring into a time machine.
Rae separated this picture from the others. Somehow she sensed that the key was in what had happened between those three men.
*
“I vote no.” Andrew took a gulp from his bottle of crème soda. “Of course, with that kinda money, we could live high. Yeah.” He grinned.
“Big surprise.” Neville gave a grunt of disgust at his younger brother’s attitude. “You might think of saving something for the first time in your life, man.”
Andrew squinted at him. “For what? So you can have a real nice funeral? Uh-uh, I wanna have some fun while I’m alive and young enough to enjoy it.”
“You can enjoy life without throwing all your money down the drain.” Neville opened his mouth to launch into another lecture on thrift.
“Will you two stop,” Rae cut in. “You’ve been fussing like this for as long as I can remember. We’re supposed to be talkin
g about this deal we’ve been offered.”
The siblings were sat around the kitchen table, talking over coffee on a Saturday morning. Rae studied her brothers – two different sides of the same Dalcour coin. Neville and Andrew shared their father’s rugged good looks and dark nut-brown skin, yet their outlooks were in sharp contrast.
“I don’t know.” Neville combed his fingers through his thick, black hair. “Somehow it doesn’t seem right, a St. Cyr having this land.”
Rae threw up her hands. “Neville, you were ready to ditch the whole thing no matter who got it. Now what’s up with you?”
“I wasn’t crazy ‘bout the idea when you first brought it up to me,” Andrew threw in.
“Look, we’ll be keeping at least five, maybe as much as seven acres. And the house.” Rae tapped a finger on the table. “Simon says we could even add in that we’ll be given first shot at buying back the land if he ever wants to sell.”
Andrew turned to his big brother. “She’s been runnin’ ‘round with this St. Cyr guy.”
Neville gave Rae a look of reproach. “Say what? Just got home and all ready jumping into trouble with both feet, girl.”
“I’m grown. I do what I please with whom I please, thank you.” Rae glared at Neville, then Andrew. “And that doesn’t have anything to do with this deal, which he made before we started ‘runnin’ ‘round’ as you put it, Andrew.”
“Yeah, so he can get his hands on our property,” Andrew muttered. “Now you all hot to get cozy with ‘em.”
“Andy, don’t make me say something nasty,” Rae warned. She took a deep breath. “Listen, Simon approached Daddy before he died.”
“And Daddy said ‘hell no,’” Andrew said.
“He did,” Rae put in, “but I talked to him about six months later when he was really sick. He said I should do what I had to do. Daddy knew it would take money to fix up the dance hall and find Pawpaw Vincent.”
“And that’s another thing, digging up more trouble by looking into what is best let alone.” Neville shook his head. “I know you wanna keep your promise to Daddy. But this ain’t the way, cher.”
“Then what do you suggest, Neville? I’m doing the best I can right now.” Rae’s voice shook. She was tired of thinking about all of the things she had to juggle: the dance hall, tying up her business with the band and finding enough money to live on. She blinked back tears.
“Now look what you done, Neville. There now, don’t worry.” Andrew put an arm around her shoulder.
“Me?” Neville’s mouth dropped open. “You were the one who–”
“Will you two stop?” Rae shook Andrew’s arm off. “I’m fine. Now let’s cut through all the crap and think like business people. I want to stay in Belle Rose and run the dance hall, not just because of Daddy. I can make a go of it and showcase Creole music, blues and Zydeco. That’s something I’ve always wanted.”
“Actually, with tourists coming in, you could do it,” Neville said.
“Right. But I need cash. I could go into debt; take out a big loan. That’s one alternative. Then I’d hold onto the land.” Rae looked at them.
Andrew frowned. “How much money we talkin’?”
“At least forty thousand to fix the place up and hire staff for the first year. I could use part of my savings for operating expenses.”
“I got some money. Well, a little.” Andrew lifted a shoulder with a shame-faced smile. “Guess a few hundred won’t go far, but you can have it.”
“Wait a minute.” Neville got up and poured some more coffee into his cup. “Me and Trisha have some money put by. We could help.”
“Thanks so much.” Rae got up to hug him. “You’re sweet but–”
“About seventy thousand oughta pull you through fine. Then you won’t have to sell, for now at least.” Neville sipped his coffee.
“Seventy thou–” Andrew fell back in his chair.
“Neville, I can’t take all your savings. You’ve got kids to send to college,” Rae said.
“Oh, that’s not the college fund. Trisha is still getting some royalties from her family’s oil well in Port Hudson. It’s not much, but we’re secure.” Neville looked at them. “What?”
“Neville, you own an oil well?” Andrew whispered in an awestruck voice.
“No. Trisha’s parents own an oil well.” Neville spoke in his usual serious, methodical tone. “They share royalties with her, her sisters and brothers. Between six kids, now that the price of oil has gone so low, we get a few hundred these days.”
“Neville, we’re family. You know we won’t tell. Just how much are y’all worth?” Andrew was perched on the end of his chair.
“Andrew!” Rae cried, slapping his arm.
“Owwee! Neville knows I don’t mean no harm.” Andrew rubbed his arm. “Anyway, you dyin’ to know yourself!”
“I am not.” Rae lifted her nose in the air. “Neville, it’s none of our business. Besides, Trisha might not want her business put out in the street.” She eyed Andrew. “We all know you’d be slurping beer and bragging on your big brother tonight at Sonny Sonnier’s juke joint.”
“Ah, Rae.” Andrew stuck his mouth out.
“Neville, I’m not at all sure about taking your money.” Rae did not like the idea. It could be several years before she could repay even a fraction of it.
“But you wanna throw in with Darcy Jove and Simon?” Andrew wore a bitter frown. “They’ve been dumpin’ on us for years.”
“You know I was always mad at Daddy for holding onto the past. Didn’t like a lot of what he did,” Neville said in a quiet voice.
“I know.” Rae gazed at him. As the eldest, Neville had confronted Lucien about his behavior at the age of fourteen. They clashed many times until Neville left home four years later.
“But these last few years we kinda made our peace. I’ve been thinking we should try to hold onto the land as part of the Dalcour heritage.” Neville looked at Rae and Andrew.
Andrew nodded. “You right, big brother. I stuck up for Daddy, but I didn’t always approve of what he did. Told him so a few times.”
Neville looked at him in surprise. “You did?”
“Yep. Anyway, he had it hard after Pawpaw Vincent left. I just feel we gotta keep this land for him. To make all that pain count for somethin’.” Andrew was serious for once.
“That’s what I’ve been thinking about over the last few days. Daddy was a strong man in a lot of ways. He deserved better.” Neville stared out the kitchen window that faced him.
“I loved that stubborn rascal.” Andrew’s voice was thick with emotion.
“Me too,” Neville added.
“Oh Neville…” Rae felt a tear slide down her cheek. At that moment, Neville looked and sounded so much like Lucien that it brought back the pain of losing him.
Neville misunderstood her reaction. “I’m not criticizing you, cher.” He put a large arm around her shoulder. “We know you just trying to find the best way to build something, too.”
“Yeah, now stop that.” Andrew rubbed his eyes. “Women always got to turn on the faucet.” He got up and turned his back to them. After a few moments he sat down again.
Rae wiped her eyes. “I love you both like crazy. Guess I’ll break the news to Simon today. We’re going out for a ride.”
“Humph, let’s see how friendly he is after that,” Andrew retorted.
Rae pinched his arm hard. “He might just find me attractive, you know!”
“Cut it out, girl.” Andrew jumped back from her. “Don’t know what’s got into you.”
“We keep talking about starting new. Keeping up an old feud isn’t the way to do that, Andy.” Rae shook a finger at him.
“Bet you wouldn’t say that if we were talkin’ ‘bout me and Toya.” Andrew squinted at her.
“That’s different and you know it. She took every chance to make my life hell in this town when we were kids.” Rae still felt the sting of scorn heaped on by Toya up until the day of their high
-school graduation. “She hasn’t changed one bit.”
“Besides, you’re broke. Toya Jove wouldn’t give you the time of day,” Neville added with a trace of humor.
“Well I’ll stand on the bayou with a wooden board saying, ‘Welcome,’ and pick up litter myself rather than throw in with them.” Andrew crossed his arms in a stubborn expression, exactly like the one Lucien used to wear.
Neville gave a snort of cynicism. “We know how long that would last.”
Rae beamed at him. “Andy, that’s a brilliant idea.”
“Let’s dress him up in a big crawfish costume while we’re at it.” Neville gave a short laugh.
“Hey, I ain’t wearin’ no costume.” Andrew looked alarmed at the gleam in Rae’s eyes.
“What I mean is we could still make the bayou a recreational site, just like Simon proposed, but we would keep the land,” said Rae. She watched her brothers’ faces carefully. They were silent for a few moments.
Neville shook his head. “We don’t have the money.”
“No, not the way he planned. But we could keep it simple.” The more Rae thought about it, the more she liked the idea. “We could repair that old dock and let somebody pay us rent to use it – like Kenny Laronde over on False River. He rents out boats and sells fishing bait.”
“We could use the money to keep the land clean,” Neville added.
“Right. Of course that would have to wait. My first priority is getting the dance hall going,” Rae put in quickly. “There’s only so much we should try to do at once.”
Neville gazed at Rae with respect. “I have to admit, you surprised me. This isn’t some wild scheme for you to have a good time on the bayou. You’ve got a sound business approach towards making it happen.”
“I surprised myself, Neville.” Rae glowed with pleasure at her older brother’s praise. “Guess living by the seat of my pants doesn’t appeal to me anymore.”
