Running On Empty (Fleur de Lis Book 2)

by A. L. Vincent

  There were three, two from Ryder and one from Joey, who both asked the same thing.

  Where are you?

  They probably would be frantic, thinking that a random psycho serial killer had gotten her. But what would she tell them?

  She was holding the phone in her hands when Gabe poked his head in the room. “How you feeling?”

  “Like shit.”

  He smiled, then replied, “I can imagine.”

  “I have to text Ryder and Joey.”

  “I told them where you were. They wanted to come get you, but I told them you’d be all right.”

  “Oh Lord.” She flung a pillow over her head. “I’m so embarrassed.”

  “You’re okay.” He crossed over to sit on the foot of the bed. “It happens.”

  “Not to me. Not that often.”

  “How about some breakfast?”

  Her stomach revolted at the thought. She didn’t dare speak. She merely shook her head, still covered by the cool pillow.

  “I’ll bring back some Sprite and something easy to eat. You’ll feel better if you eat a little something.”

  She groaned.

  “I’ll be back. Get some rest.”

  Grace was sleeping before the front door closed.

  ***

  Gabe

  As Gabe walked into the main area of the inn, Glinda was putting the finishing touches on the buffet she laid out for breakfast during the season. Biscuits, gravy, sausage, bacon, eggs, and cheese grits were in big silver warmers on a long buffet table that Noah had custom built out of cypress.

  Gabe had always loved this room. It had changed a bit over the years as Grams had redecorated every now and then, but the arrangement remained the same. Along one wall was the new buffet, and beside that, in the far corner, was a well-stocked bar, also made out of cypress. A fireplace was nestled between two huge bookcases that held books of all genres and board games for families to play. A circle of overstuffed leather chairs sat in front of the fireplace. The rest of the room was filled with small round tables for breakfast, drinks, or small talk. When the weather was nice, Glinda opened the bank of French doors that led out to the deck that faced the water.

  An older, speckled gentleman, Daniel, was seated at a table already. Daniel wasn’t a customer, he was one of Glinda’s friends. They had an unspoken agreement. She fed him during tourist season, and he fed her in the off season. Gabe refused to think about what other unspoken agreements they had, but Gabe knew there were mornings he didn’t hear Daniel’s car pull in and yet he’d still be at the table, sipping coffee.

  Gabe kissed Glinda on the cheek. “Good morning, Grandma.”

  “Morning, baby. How are you?”

  “Good,” he said, starting to fill a plate. “Anything in particular you need me to do today?”

  “The group in cabin three said the water’s not heating up all the way. Can you check on that?”

  “Sure thing, Grandma.”

  He sat down at the table. “Hi, Daniel.”

  “Hi, Gabe. How are you?” he said, and rustled the morning newspaper.

  “I’m good.”

  Glinda, finished with her preparations and fussing, sat down with them for a cup of coffee. It was her ritual almost every morning of the tourist season. When the visitors came in, she would stop to visit with each one. By the time they checked out, Glinda would know where they were from, their names, and almost everything but their social security number. Her ability to make them feel a part of the family was what kept people coming back time and time again.

  Daniel took a sip of his coffee. “An officer in Pointe Shade is in trouble.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me. What is it this time?”

  Pointe Shade was in St. Andrew Parish, next door to Raphael Parish, in which Bon Chance was located. It was known for ineptitude and corruption. It was like Orleans Parish’s slightly less sophisticated, more redneck younger brother. An example of the good ol’ boy system gone bad.

  Daniel said, “More inappropriate actions during arrests, traffic stops.”

  “Something’s going to have to give over there. Someone needs to run against Ol’ Man Mouton next election.” Jacque Mouton was the head of one of the biggest families in St. Andrew Parish, and he ran most of the government offices. He kept his family employed, and with the economy still upset after Hurricane Katrina and an oil spill that had further devastated the coast, he didn’t care who he put where as long as his family was taken care of. No matter how unqualified or corrupt.

  “True.”

  Daniel flipped through the paper some more, making small talk with Glinda about local and state politics. Gabe finished his breakfast in silence, thinking of Grace. He wondered again what was wrong with her. What had put those shadows in her eyes? Last night, she had barely spoken three sentences to him. She had sat and drank one drink after another; he hadn’t seen her drink like that in a long time. Then there was the Drew Brees throw she had done with her glass. She was angry at something or someone.

  Gabe just wished he knew what.

  ***

  Grace

  At Gabe’s, Grace roused again from sleep. She exhaled a frustrated breath. She had not been successful at drinking her anger away. It still laid there, coiled like a snake. She could almost taste the poison. Or was it the alcohol? Either way, she had a bad taste in her mouth that didn’t seem to be going away.

  She lifted her head off the pillow, the rather good smelling pillow, Grace noted, as the alcohol fog began to lift. Not an overpowering cologne, a simple scent, like fresh air and ocean water. He wore the same cologne he always had and she found it familiar and comforting.

  Grace heard the door open. Gabe must be back.

  Soon, he poked his head in the door with a can of Sprite in one hand and a small covered bowl in the other.

  Since her mouth felt like cotton, she reached for the soft drink. She scooted herself into a sitting position.

  “You’re too sweet,” she said. She sipped on the Sprite. The bubbly sweetness was nirvana. “Ahhhhhh.”

  “You want to try to eat something?” he asked, holding the bowl up. “I got some biscuits and gravy, some cheese grits, bacon. Glinda has a whole spread at the house if you want to go up there.”

  “I’ll just try the biscuits for now,” she said, and he handed her the bowl. He backed away to sit in a chair across from the bed.

  “Hey, Gabe?” she said. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, Grace.” He looked down and chewed his bottom lip for a second. “I know you have Ryder and Joey, but I’m here too if you need someone to talk to.”

  Grace’s stomach twisted, and it wasn’t because of the biscuit or the Sprite. She couldn’t talk to any of them. Ryder would get angry and want to fight Brent, and probably even-tempered Joey would too. That would only add to her humiliation. This was something she was just going to have to sort out on her own. What could they really do anyway? What was done, was done.

  She glanced up at him and smiled. “Thank you. Again.”

  “Anything for you.”

  She tore the biscuit apart and munched on it. “I’ll finish this up and get out of your hair.”

  “No rush. I need to shower and get ready to help Glinda. But stay as long as you need.”

  “I need to get back. My dog is probably wondering where I am.”

  “’Kay. If you’ll wait until I’m ready, I’ll drive you back.”

  “Nah. I’ll just walk. It will be good for me. Maybe I can sweat out some of this alcohol.”

  “’Kay.” He went into the bathroom and closed the door. Grace heard the shower start.

  Grace took a last bite of biscuit and a few more sips of the Sprite. She needed to get home. She took a moment to tidy up, then took off toward Joey’s.

  It was already warm as she walked down the beach. The sun beat down on her face, making her sweaty and even more nauseous. Midway to Joey’s, she gave up and sat on the cool sand for a moment.


  She really should have taken Gabe up on his offer. At least his truck would have been air-conditioned. She took a deep breath. Last night was not a good idea. Instead of feeling better, she felt worse. She’d head home, sleep this hangover off, then go talk to Carly about some gigs. She’d make something out of this crappy day. What did all those self-help people say? Think positive and good things will come to you?

  Whatever. The thought made her head pound.

  She listened to the waves as they softly hit the sand, the soothing sounds punctuated by the calling of the seagulls. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the cool, salty air. It felt good to be home.

  She sat there, simply enjoying the smells, the sounds, the warmth of the sun. Until the sun became too warm again, then she pushed herself back up and continued to Joey’s.

  When she walked in, Joey was sleeping on the couch. He had been waiting for her. Great, she thought. She tried tiptoeing. It didn’t work. He sat up as soon as she stepped in the room.

  “Grace? You okay?” he asked.

  “Joey, I’m fine. You didn’t have to wait for me. I was with Gabe.”

  “That’s what he said. Ryder and I said we’d come get you.”

  “I know. I was okay.”

  “I’m worried about you,” he said.

  “I’m just hungover. I need sleep. Then some good and greasy food. You cooking at Snapper’s today?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Go back to sleep. I need to walk Furby, then I’ll go to bed and come up to Snapper’s later for lunch. A Joey Special already sounds incredible. And I need to talk to Carly about some gigs.”

  “So, you’re sticking around for a little while?” he asked.

  “It seems that way.”

  “What about the band?” he asked.

  “What about it?” she snapped.

  “Okay…” he said. “Carly would love to book you, I’m sure. Everyone always enjoys hearing you play.”

  “I’m sorry, Joey. Just cranky today. Too much vodka last night, and whatever it was Gabe was drinking.”

  “I understand.” He smiled. “I’ll see you a little later. I walked Furby earlier, by the way. He should be fine.”

  “Oh, thank goodness. I really just want to lay back down.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, smiling. “Now, Grace the Grouch, go back to bed so we can stand you later.”

  “Oh, that’s my plan,” she said, and walked down the hall to her room.

  ***

  Grace woke up later that afternoon, feeling better, but only in a slightly better mood. At least her head wasn’t pounding anymore. After showering, her belly growled. The biscuit she ate earlier had worn off. She hadn’t eaten anything for dinner last night, hence the extreme intoxication and hangover. She knew better than that.

  Soon, she was walking into Snapper’s. Even at noon there were already a few patrons around the bar. Snapper’s was often a gathering place for the retired fishermen and oilfield workers in town. Daniel was there. He would go by Glinda’s, have breakfast, read the paper, then head to Snapper’s to visit. It was his daily routine. There were a couple of other customers in there as well. People Grace didn’t know. She hugged Daniel and sat beside him.

  “What’s up, pretty lady?” he asked her.

  “Not much. Starving,” she said.

  “What do you want for lunch?” Carly asked, putting a Coke in front of her. Carly already knew what she wanted to drink. That was what made Carly a great bartender. She knew her customers well.

  “I want a Joey Special,” she said. The Joey Special was a thick hamburger with pepper jack cheese, extra pickles, and a spicy Cajun mayonnaise. It was the perfect cure for a hangover.

  “And extra fries.”

  “You got it,” Carly said, disappearing through the swinging doors to the kitchen.

  “So, what have you been up to, Grace?” Daniel asked her.

  “Not much. Still playing music in New Orleans, or was. Had that regular gig going on. But that didn’t work out.” Grace found herself saying more than she intended to, but Daniel had that effect on people. Grace often thought he was something like the “Problem Whisperer.” You spend five minutes with him, and Daniel would know all your problems. You had to be careful around him, or you’d end up feeling like you’d just seen a shrink.

  “Oh?” he asked.

  Grace smiled. She wasn’t falling for it. “Yeah. You had breakfast with Glinda this morning?”

  “Of course.”

  “How’s she doing?” Grace asked.

  “She’s good. You should go see her soon.”

  “I will.”

  “What’s up today?” Carly asked, returning from the kitchen.

  “Not much.”

  “So, you hung out with Gabe last night?” Carly said, grinning. “Wanna tell me about it?”

  Grace shook her head. “Oh, no, you don’t.”

  Carly blinked and tried to look innocent. “Don’t what?”

  “No matchmaking. Absolutely not.”

  “But it worked out so well for Emily and Noah!”

  “You didn’t do crap for Em and Noah,” Grace said, laughing, “They already had a past and were perfect for each other.”

  “See?”

  “No.”

  “We’ll see,” Carly said, grinning again.

  Grace almost sighed in relief when a bell dinged in the kitchen, signaling that food was in the window. Soon, Carly was returning with a plate full of Joey goodness. The smell was incredible. And just what Grace needed to settle her stomach. Carly grabbed a handful of fries from Grace’s plate and munched on them.

  Henry, an oilfield worker on his two weeks off, came up then. He shook Daniel’s hand, said hi to Grace, and gave Carly an over the counter hug.

  “Did you read the paper this morning?” he asked Daniel.

  “I did.”

  “Did you read about that officer over in Point Shade? About him touching on those women?”

  “I did.”

  “What the hell?” Henry asked. “Isn’t that the same one who shot himself in the balls last year?”

  “Yes, it was Denis Mouton,” Daniel said. “He’s old man Mouton’s grandson. Probably needed a job, so they outfitted him with a badge and a gun. Probably shoulda just given him a taser. ’Course he may’ve tased himself.”

  “Denis?” Henry asked. “The cop who comes around here every once in a while?”

  Carly grimaced as she walked up, overhearing the conversation. “Oh God. That guy? Ugh. He thinks he’s God’s gift to women. Arrogant little prick. And he’s married! That poor woman. Having to put up with that.”

  How Grace had missed these people!

  “Carly, you have any nights open that I could play?”

  Carly frowned. “Not this month. I always book at least a month in advance. But I can grab the calendar and see what we might have next month?”

  “That would be great.”

  Carly disappeared into the storage room/office at the back of the bar and returned with a large calendar. She flipped to the next month and handed it to Grace. “Just write your name in on the open dates you want and we’ll go from there. Will Gabriel be sitting in too?”

  “If he wants to.”

  “Oh, I think he will,” Carly said with a smile.

  Grace frowned again, then turned her attention to the calendar. Carly pulled one of the numerous pens from her blonde ponytail and handed it to Grace. “The Wahoo and 31 also book music. If you want to wait until my shift is over, I’ll take a ride with you and we can see if we can get some other days for ya.”

  Grace thought of the run-in with Mouton and frowned again. “I’ll skip 31 for now.” It just so happened 31 was in Mouton’s jurisdiction. Grace didn’t back down from a fight, but she didn’t go looking for trouble either.

  Carly frowned. “Maybe you’re right. I don’t relish a run-in with any Moutons. But definitely the Wild Wahoo. I’ll give the others a call and we can
make a night out of it.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Ryder staying in your place in New Orleans?” Carly asked. When Ryder worked in New Orleans, he often slept on Grace’s couch to keep from having to drive back and forth every day.

  “Nah, he said he didn’t want to stay if I wasn’t there. He said it didn’t feel right.”

  “Then he can come too!” Carly said. “Yea! We haven’t all been together in forever.”

  Carly glanced at the clock. “Still a couple of hours of my shift left. You think you can just hang out?”

  “Sure.”

  “Awesome! When I get finished, I’ll run home and take a quick shower and we can hit the road. We’ll get Noah to be our DD, and we’ll be good. I just bought this killer pair of heels I’ve been dying to try out.”

  “You? Heels?” Grace raised an eyebrow. Carly wore flip-flops ninety percent of the time. Five percent of the time she was barefoot. The rest was Carly trying to wear heels. It never worked.

  “What? We’re going out. I may see a hot guy,” Carly said.

  “In Bon Chance?” Grace raised an eyebrow.

  “You never know.”

  “This should be interesting. You showing cleavage too?” Grace said, eyeing her over her Coke.

  “You bet. You ready for a real drink?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  Carly brought her a Sprite and vodka, then left to take care of the rest of the patrons. Grace turned her attention to Daniel.

  “What are we going to do with her?” Grace asked him.

  “I have no clue,” Daniel said with a laugh.

  “So, Grace,” Daniel began, “what are your plans?”

  “Plans?”

  “You staying here? Going back to New Orleans?”

  “Not going back to New Orleans.”

  “So your options are open, then?”

  “Completely.”

  “I’ll keep an eye out for jobs I think you might like. Ever thought about doing anything with that college degree you have?”

  “Honestly, I haven’t given much thought to anything yet. It’s only been a couple of days.”

  “I’ll look. Surely we can find something.”