Bayou Paradox

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Bayou Paradox Page 15

by Robin Caroll


  “Aw, thanks. Listen, could you pull that fax from the credit-card company for me? I need the number of the pharmaceutical’s home office.” She paused a minute. “Okay.”

  Again her feet seemed to have a mind of their own. She spun around and made a writing gesture. Bubba pulled out his notebook and pencil and passed them to her.

  She shoved the phone between her cheek and shoulder, braced the notebook against the wall and jotted down the number. “Thanks, Jay. I owe you one.” A beat passed and then she laughed. Full and throaty. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. We’ll see. Bye.”

  Tara closed the phone and handed it back to Bubba, along with the notebook and pencil. “I already called them earlier and asked whoever was in charge of the credit cards to call me back. My boss, Jayden, said I didn’t have any phone messages yet.” She glanced at her watch. “It’s after four—they might’ve already left for the day.”

  Jay. Jayden. Her boss. Bubba remembered meeting him at the hospital when he’d brought Tara coffee. Bubba shoved down the envy at the ease with which she spoke his name. Work. He had to concentrate. “Let’s see what I can find out.” He dialed the number and asked to speak to the CEO. He gave his sheriff credentials and was put on hold.

  “Good luck.” She leaned her back against the wall, her palms drumming softly against the starkly painted wall.

  “This is Walter Miller, Chief Executive Officer of Winn Pharmaceuticals. How may I help you?”

  Bubba told him why he was calling, then ended with a question. “Is the team headed up by Vincent Marsalis and Hannah Gerard authorized by your company to be on a research expedition?”

  “No, sir. To be honest, Mr. Marsalis is on an extended leave pending the outcome of a disciplinary investigation. His assistant, Hannah, is on a two-week vacation, as far as I know.”

  “Disciplinary investigation?”

  The CEO let out a heavy breath. “I’m not at total liberty to go into details, but seeing as how you’re a policeman and Vincent’s in your area…”

  Cut to the chase, man. “Yes?”

  “We’re investigating the possibility that he falsified test results on an experimental drug. The FDA probed and found discrepancies with the results. Vincent headed up that team. Until the FDA and our internal investigators conclude their inquiry, Vincent is on paid leave.”

  “Thank you for your time and information, Mr. Miller.”

  Bubba couldn’t wait to relay his findings to Tara. Soon, they’d have the puzzle put together. Just a few more hard-to-place pieces.

  And then he’d have to deal with his feelings for her, without the excuse of Mrs. LeBlanc and Tanty’s case.

  SEVENTEEN

  Bubba was going to be furious. Even more so than when he caught her giving Tanty more of the healing potion. But Tara couldn’t wait for the red tape to be cleared. She needed to move now. And since Deputy Anderson stood guard in the hall, there was no better time than the present.

  She headed for the only motel in Lagniappe. The late-afternoon sun hid behind ominous dark billows of cloud. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Could rain be coming? She sniffed the air through the open window of her car. Didn’t smell like rain yet, and the sky remained mostly blue.

  If Vincent was still in town—and if Hannah was, Vince probably was—then it stood to reason he had to be at the motel. Why hadn’t she made the connection earlier? She’d had a bad feeling about him ever since she’d met him. She should’ve trusted her instincts.

  She parked in front of the motel office and strode inside. Anna Grace stood behind the counter. “Hey, Tara. Whatcha doing around here? Need a room?” She raised her penciled-on eyebrows and sneered. “For an hour?”

  She so didn’t have the time or energy to deal with Anna Grace. The girl had been bitter toward all the LeBlancs ever since CoCo married Luc. Poor thing, thinking Luc could ever be interested in her.

  “I need to know if you have a Vincent Marsalis registered here.” Tara leaned one elbow on the counter, her gaze flicking to the registration book.

  Anna Grace pulled the book toward her. “Now, Tara, I can’t give out such information. We’re a discreet business.”

  She’d better think fast before Anna Grace kicked her out, or worse, called the sheriff. Tara flashed a plastic smile and leaned closer to Anna Grace. She lowered her voice to a conspirator’s tone. “Actually I was supposed to meet him later, but I forgot his room number.” She winked. “Help a sistah out, Anna Grace. I don’t want to have to call him and tell him I forgot. Whatever would he think?” She batted her lashes and let her smile creep wider.

  Anna Grace cocked her head. “You sure? Cuz I thought he had that woman with him.”

  “Hannah?” Tara gave a fake chuckle. “She just wishes he was with her, if you know what I mean.”

  “Well, they did book separate rooms. If they were together-together, they’d have shared a room, yes?”

  “Yeah. But they didn’t.” Tara glanced over her shoulder, as if she didn’t want to be overheard. Like there was anybody else was in the motel lobby, or anybody would care. “Thing is, he’s been trying to get away from her. The woman’s a bit delusional.” She shook her head. “Always dressing up in scrubs like a nurse and wanting him to play doctor.”

  “How sad. But you know, I’ve seen her coming and going in those scrubs.”

  Good, she’d just gotten confirmation. She’d have to remember to tell Bubba. Then she swallowed, remembering he was most likely having a fit about now, knowing she’d left and not knowing where she’d gone. She refocused on Anna Grace. “Yeah, it is sad. So, anyway, can you help me out?”

  Anna Grace chewed her bottom lip. “I’m not supposed to.”

  “I’m not asking you to give me a key or anything.” She fixed her expression in what she hoped came across as pathetic. “I don’t want him to think I don’t care enough to remember the number.”

  “Okay. Just this once.” Anna Grace turned the registration book to face Tara and let her finger fall on Vincent’s signature.

  Room eight. Tara smiled at Anna Grace and turned the book back around. “Merci. I really appreciate it.”

  “Yeah. But he’s not in the room.”

  “Do you know where he is?”

  “Well, he normally hangs out at the jazz club in the evening. At least, that’s what I’ve heard.”

  “Really?” Tara considered her options. Maybe Vincent would be more inclined to talk to her, let something slip, if he was in a place he felt comfortable. Less likely to be on the defense. And she hadn’t exactly been very hospitable the couple of times she’d met him.

  “He even invited me to join him one night after closing.” Anna Grace wore a sly smile.

  “Merci.” Tara left the motel office without another word. She slammed her Mustang into gear, heading toward the jazz club.

  “She did what?” Bubba glared at his deputy.

  “Said she had someplace to go as soon as I got here.” Gary Anderson looked like a scolded child.

  She was supposed to have stayed put and waited for him. Bubba bit back the retort he’d already formed. It wasn’t his deputy’s fault Tara had gone AWOL. “Did she happen to ask you to tell me anything?”

  Anderson shook his head. “No, sir.”

  “Okay.” Bubba let out a long breath, hoping to release some frustration along with the air. Didn’t work. “I’ll check in Mrs. LeBlanc’s room. You stay put. No one but Dr. Wahl, Nurse Denham and Nurse Norris are allowed inside. Got that?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I have my cell on if you need me.” Bubba made quick steps to Marie LeBlanc’s room. He inched open the door to find CoCo and Luc sitting with her.

  “Hello, Sheriff.”

  “Evening, Mrs. LeBlanc. How’re you feeling?”

  “Bien.”

  Luc was on his feet and met him at the door. “What’s wrong? You look like your hunting dog just broke his leg. Is it your aunt?”

  “No. It’s your sister-in-law.”


  “What’s Tara done now?”

  “She’s missing.”

  “Missing?” Luc lowered his voice even as he glanced over his shoulder at his wife.

  “Yeah. I left her with Aunt Tanty while I met with the chief of staff. I get back to find she’s gone.”

  “No explanation?”

  “She didn’t tell my deputy a thing except she had someplace to go.”

  Luc rubbed his chin. “Any clue?”

  Bubba shook his head. “No. You got any ideas?”

  “Nope. Maybe CoCo will think of something.”

  “I don’t want to worry her if it’s just Tara being, well, Tara.”

  Luc shot him a sly smile. “Still under your skin, is she?”

  “I can’t worry about that now.” Nor could he tamp down the worry that Tara was doing something stupid and dangerous.

  “Then we should tell CoCo.”

  “What’re you boys whispering about so secretlike?” Mrs. LeBlanc asked.

  Luc went and planted a kiss on her hand. “Aren’t men supposed to keep secrets about manly things?”

  The older woman laughed.

  Luc glanced at his wife. “Honey, the sheriff needs to ask you a few questions. Why don’t y’all go down to the waiting room? I’ll stay here and flirt with your grandmother.”

  Mrs. LeBlanc laughed again.

  CoCo wasn’t fooled. She smiled at her grandmother, but narrowed her eyes as she passed Bubba and went out to the hall. The door had barely closed when she lit into him. “What’s going on?”

  “Your sister. Tara. She’s missing.”

  “Missing how?”

  He explained the situation, then waited.

  “Have you tried her cell?”

  “Twice. It went straight to voice mail.”

  “Then she’s rejecting your calls.”

  Was that supposed to make him feel better? “Do you have any idea where she might’ve gone?”

  “Have you tried at home?”

  “Jacks said she hasn’t been there since she left this morning. He and Alyssa are getting ready to head up here as soon as Alyssa eats all her crackers.”

  CoCo gave a small smile. “Morning sickness seems to hit Al more in the evening.” She ran a finger along her bottom lip. “Have you checked at the jazz club? She might’ve gone there to finish up the paperwork on that chargeback.”

  “I didn’t even think of that.”

  “If she’s not there, then I don’t know where she could be. Want me to try and call her cell? Maybe she’ll answer my call.”

  “Let me check at the club first. I don’t want her to jump down my throat for calling her sisters on her. Not again.”

  CoCo cocked a brow and narrowed her eyes. “Is there something going on between you two that I should know about?”

  Heat flooded his face. “I, uh, I…”

  She laughed. “Oh, my. You’ve got it bad, don’t you?”

  His ears burned. “I don’t know. I haven’t exactly had time to consider what I’m thinking or feeling.”

  “Better keep busy then, Sheriff.”

  “Huh?”

  “If you take the time to analyze your feelings, you might realize you’re falling for her. And that would be horrible, yes?”

  “No. Of course not.”

  CoCo smiled slowly, so that the corners of her mouth crept upward. “Don’t look now, Sheriff, but sounds like you’re protesting a bit too much.”

  The heat spread across his chest. “Mm.”

  She laughed and laid a hand on his forearm. “Don’t worry about it. You’re a good man, Bubba Theriot. Tara couldn’t find a better person to get involved with.”

  “We’re not involved.”

  “Looks to me like you are.”

  His stomach turned. “CoCo, you know Tara’s not a believer. I can’t get involved with her.”

  “And Luc once thought that way about me, but look how God touched my heart.”

  “Well, it’s not that easy.”

  She chuckled. “With relationships of the heart, it’s never easy. And with Tara…well, it’s even more complicated.”

  “Amen to that.”

  She gave him a little shove. “Go see if she’s at the club. And I’d suggest you talk to her about this noninvolvement thing soon.”

  He nodded and headed to the elevators. CoCo was right. He needed to figure out what this thing with Tara was.

  But first he had to find her.

  He gunned his truck in the direction of the jazz club. His cell phone rang. He whipped into the first driveway he came to and answered the phone. “Sheriff Theriot.”

  “Sheriff, it’s Missy.”

  The dispatcher. If this was something that could’ve waited, he’d be annoyed. Time was wasting, and he was parked—he glanced around—at the Lagniappe diner. “Go ahead, Missy.”

  “You got a call from a lab technician.”

  “And?”

  “Well, she said she’d tried to call your cell, but the call wouldn’t go through.”

  Probably when he was in the chief of staff’s office. Sometimes the higher floors of the hospital caused lousy reception. “What’d she say?”

  “Said to tell you that she remembered the company doing studies on the drug you and she had discussed.”

  The one with the paraldehyde component. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. Said it was Winn Pharmaceutical. Does that make sense?”

  In more ways than one. “Thanks, Missy.” He closed the phone before she could respond and rested his chin on the steering wheel.

  Vincent Marsalis had to be the one responsible. Every bit of evidence pointed directly to him. Now it was up to Bubba to prove it.

  To get justice for Aunt Tanty and Mrs. LeBlanc. To make it up to Tara for not believing her in the first place.

  EIGHTEEN

  The bass thumped, and the treble made the glass candleholders on the tables vibrate. The volume in the jazz club could register an eight on the Richter scale.

  Despite that, Tara spotted Vincent as she wove through the throng of dancers to the bar. Cigarette smoke mixed with the random cigar hovered in the air. Add in about twenty different brands of perfume and cologne and the room stank.

  Tara sidled up to Vincent and smiled wide.

  He smiled back, recognized her, then frowned. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the guardian of the bayou. Come to run me out of town?”

  Butterflies tore into her stomach. She offered a shaky smile. “I don’t blame you. I haven’t been exactly hospitable to you, have I?”

  “Hardly.” He glared at her.

  “Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I’m sorry for snapping at you. It’s just that I’ve been under a lot of strain, what with my grandmother being in the hospital and all.”

  “I heard about that. Sorry.”

  Yeah, she just bet he was. The creep—he was to blame! No, she couldn’t let her disgust show. “So I’ve been a bit snappy lately, and I’m just real particular about the bayou. And my property.”

  “Yeah, I can see that.”

  “So, what do you say?” She offered a trembling hand. “Truce? Can we start over?”

  He eyed her hand before taking her palm and shaking. “Sure. Let me buy you a drink.”

  “I’d like that.” She smiled and knocked on the bar. “Mike?”

  The bartender glanced at Tara, then Vincent, and then back at Tara. “Can I get you something?” His look clearly said he didn’t approve of her choice of companionship. Was he aware of Jayden’s crush on her? She’d have to explain later.

  “Soft drink, merci.”

  Vincent gave her a hard stare. “Just a cola? Are you kidding me?”

  She swallowed, recognizing the distrust leaping back into his eyes. “I’m taking medication that can’t be mixed with alcohol.”

  “Oh.” He barely glanced at Mike. “I’ll have another whiskey sour.”

  Mike stared at Tara. “Want me to bring them to the table?”
r />   She smiled her relief. “Yes, merci.” She pushed off the bar and led Vincent toward the table in the back corner, the one Jayden kept reserved for any VIPs that might show up. Not that Lagniappe ever had real VIPs, but occasionally a political figure would drop by and it made them feel important to have a table held.

  Tara slipped into the booth, expecting Vincent to sit across from her. He didn’t. He slid in beside her. Close beside her. The smell of liquor on his breath almost made her gag. He was three sheets to the wind. Would that loosen his tongue? She inched closer to the wall. “So, why don’t you tell me about your company?”

  “Thought you didn’t care.” He scooted closer to her, until his thigh pressed hers. The guy gave her the willies.

  Shifting, she crossed her legs. “Change my mind.” She smiled.

  He laid a hand on her knee. “Sounds like a challenge.”

  Mike appeared with their drinks. She smiled her appreciation and took a sip of the cola.

  Vincent stared at her a moment and then downed his drink. He coughed. Tara patted his back. “You okay?”

  He let out a violent breath. “That’s got quite a bite.”

  Tara inched away from Vincent. “So you guys are out here doing research? What are you really looking for in the bayou?”

  A frown covered his face. Uh-oh, she’d pushed too far too fast. She smiled. “You know, I’m just protective of the bayou because I need the plants for my potions.”

  His face went slack. “Potions? You do that voodoo stuff, too?”

  “Of course. Trained by my grandmother and another lady named Tanty Shaw. I’m good. Real good.”

  The flicker of recognition was unmistakable. Score one for the good guys.

  “Really?” He smiled. “I’ll just bet you are.”

  She let the innuendo slide. “Yeah. So if I was rude, I apologize. I just have to protect what I need.”

  “The whole voodoo thing is very intriguing to me, I must say.” He traced a finger along her shoulder.

  “It’s fascinating.” She squared her shoulders. Didn’t flinch.

  “So, you make all kinds of potions?”

  “Yep. There’s a potion for just about every ailment you can imagine.”

 

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