by Emery, Lynn
“But that will be starting over. Denny won’t confide in somebody new right away, if at all.” John turned to Boudreaux, but said no more.
The sheriff glanced from Lee to John. “I think I see where this is headed. Forget it. You know damn well we don’t use no civilians to do undercover work.”
“Bull! You use informants all the time,” John retorted.
“Yeah, but they ain’t private eyes,” Boudreaux said with a sneer. “The last thing I need is for this fella to get shot up. Him or his next of kin will be suin’ the taxpayers for a million bucks.”
“Lee knows what he’s doing,” John said with confidence.
“It don’t take nothin’ but a week of half-assed trainin’ to get a private investigator’s license in this state,” Boudreaux retorted.
“I was on the Los Angeles police force for five years and an L.A. County sheriff for a year before that,” Lee said in a clipped voice.
But Lee was not offended. He’d felt the same when he was a cop. In fact, he welcomed the sheriff’s attitude. He would just as soon extricate himself from this case and move on. There was one big downside, but he dodged that train of thought.
Boudreaux looked at Lee with less scorn. “Okay, so you’re not the run-of-the-mill idiot gettin’ mixed up in police business. I still don’t like it.”
“Which is understandable. And you’re not exactly starting over. You know where to look and what to look for,” Lee said.
“On the other hand, T-John here has a point.” Boudreaux sat forward and put both elbows on the desktop. “The Kincaid kid trusts you. We can find out more a lot faster with you in there. Get them boys in jail faster, too.”
Lee pressed his lips together. “Maybe.”
Lee also understood the advantage of finishing what he’d started with Denny, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to say it. Sheriff Boudreaux was silent for several minutes as he pondered his options. Without warning, he picked up the receiver of the phone and punched in three numbers.
‘Ted, come in here a minute,” he said, then hung up. ‘Ted Tullier is the chief deputy that covers this end of the parish. He’s a smart guy. I want his opinion.”
They waited for only a short time before a tall black deputy with a military-style haircut came in. His uniform, dark khaki shirt and dark brown pants, were spotless. Ted nodded to the two men before speaking to his boss. Lee concealed his surprise that Boudreaux would put a black man in charge of anything.
“Yeah, Sheriff. What’s up?” Ted leaned against the closed door.
Boudreaux summarized the situation in a crisp and concise manner that surprised Lee. His down-home, folksy manner was gone. Lee revised his opinion of Boudreaux. This was no stereotypical old-time southern sheriff.
“Mr. Matthews here is on the inside right now. Question is this, do we want him to stay or do we take over?” Boudreaux rocked back in his chair and fished a cigar from a desk drawer. He chewed on it without lighting up.
Ted studied Lee for several minutes. His expression gave nothing away. “You went undercover before?”
“Yeah, as an L.A. cop,” Lee replied.
“Okay.” Ted’s gaze flicked to Sheriff Boudreaux. “You know how I feel about Ty’Rance and his crew. I’ve been hearing he wants to take his gang to another level.”
“Yeah,” Boudreaux rumbled around the cigar in his mouth. “Ain’t satisfied being small-time scum.”
“I’ll bet it was him or one of his boys that shot up Lucky Dufour’s house the other night.” Ted looked at Lee. “I figure it was payback. Lucky is trying to move in on him.”
“Drive-bys? Bad sign.” Lee knew all too well that rural wanna-be gangsters had begun to pattern themselves on big-city crooks.
Ted nodded. “Ty is trying to organize a bunch of petty thieves and punks. He wants more profit and power.”
“Sounds like you’ve been keeping a close watch on him,” Lee said.
“For the last five years at least.” Ted turned to the sheriff. “He’s closer than we’ve ever gotten.” He nodded in Lee’s direction.
“Them boys ain’t just a problem for Bayou Blue either,” Boudreaux said.
Lee watched the two men, both silent and deep in thought. He recognized the familiar bond between two policemen who worked closely together. Their communication was a form of verbal shorthand. Each understood the other’s train of thought so well, long discussions were unnecessary.
“Sheryl,” Ted mumbled, more to himself than anyone else.
“Who?” Lee asked.
“Sheryl Fosse, one of the deputies that patrol Bayou Blue and towns in that district. She can be your backup in case things go bad.” Boudreaux’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me you got a problem with female law officers.”
“None at all, just asking.” Lee grinned.
“Good, ’cause Sheryl will clean your clock if you catch an attitude.” Boudreaux grinned back at him.
“I’d do it, but Ty’Rance knows I’m on his tail.” Ted grimaced. “But they’re used to seeing her patrol the area. He’d get suspicious if I start showing up more.”
“Makes sense,” Lee said.
Lee listened carefully as the two men discussed shifting around patrols to free Sheryl even more. He was impressed with their use of up-to-date policing techniques. Using new computer programs, they concentrated patrols on problems areas. Boudreaux and Ted exchanged a terse plan.
“So where do we go from here?” Mandeville glanced from Ted to the sheriff.
Boudreaux stood and crossed to him. “You know as much as you need to, John. Don’t worry. We gonna get this thing wrapped up and save that clinic for you.”
“One thing, Harley, let’s make sure Miss Noble isn’t pulled into anything dangerous,” John said with a pointed look at the sheriff.
Sheriff Boudreaux nodded. “I understand, T-John,” he said quietly.
Lee glanced from the sheriff to John. What was that about? Mandeville’s protectiveness seemed almost personal. Then Lee thought of Andrea’s mother. Maybe John had promised Charlene that he’d take care of her daughter no matter what.
Mandeville stood and smoothed down the front of his expensive sport shirt. “Good. I’ll leave it in your capable hands. I’ve got my hands full with the board about this.” “One way or the other, we’ll get it straight.” Boudreaux slapped him on the back. “We’ll talk with Matthews here a little longer. You don’t need to know the dirty details.”
Mandeville looked at him. “In other words, get out, eh?” He chuckled. “All right, I’ll leave it to the professionals.” He waved at them all and walked out of the office.
Lee waited until the door had banged shut. “What was that about the board?”
“John is in a political tug-of-war about the clinic, among other things.” Boudreaux waved a hand as though to dismiss the subject.
“Sorta like Ty’Rance and Lucky, two dogs fighting over the same bone,” Lee observed. He glanced at Ted, who cleared his throat.
Sheriff Boudreaux’s dark eyes flashed irritation for a second, and then he forced a smile. “John is a leading citizen. We try to keep leading citizens happy.”
“I see,” Lee said with a raised eyebrow. He knew very well that the sheriff’s job was as much politics as law enforcement.
“Keeping down crime is our number one priority,” Sheriff Boudreaux said in a clipped military tone. He clamped his jaws shut.
“I know that,” Lee said without a hint of sarcasm. Po-lice chiefs all over the world had to juggle doing the right thing and pleasing power brokers.
Boudreaux let out a long breath. “John ain’t a bad fella, just used to getting what he wants, when he wants it. Know what I mean?”
“I know,” Lee said.
“So let’s talk about how this thing is gonna play out.” Boudreaux went back behind the desk and sat down again.
Lee paid close attention to the men as they gave him more complete information on Ty’Rance’s background and the gang.
Although Ted did most of the talking, the sheriff filled in a few blanks as well. They finished an hour later, and Lee drove back to his office in Harahan, but his mind was still in Bayou Blue.
Denny did not impress him as capable of holding his own with Ty’Rance. The young man wanted to make fast money and prove his manhood. Still, Lee did not sense he was ruthless and unfeeling the way the men who surrounded Ty’Rance were. At least Denny had not reached that point yet, but a lifetime of disappointments and hard knocks certainly gave him the potential. Denny’s feelings of discontent and resentment simmered just beneath the surface. He was on the edge and Ty’Rance was ready to give him a push. Lee thought of Andrea.
She was grateful to him for taking time with Denny and he was setting a steel trap that would close on the kid. Guilt gnawed at him.
He could almost smell the alluring scent of her perfume, a light floral fragrance that she wore to work every day. Andrea seemed to think of Denny as a younger brother she was determined to save. Of course, it could all be an act. Lee gripped the steering wheel. He wondered once more if he was allowing himself to be lulled by her beauty.
Before meeting Andrea Noble, Lee would have sworn that was impossible. Growing up on the meanest streets in South Central had left him with a tough outer shell. His childhood had been cut short as a result. The one thing Lee had learned was to be wary. His practice was to keep everyone at a safe distance—less chance of getting stabbed in the back. Yet being with Andrea day in and day out was messing with his head. Suddenly he felt his life was an emotional desert. It was so good to joke with her about experiences they’d shared or listen to her talk about her dreams for the clinic. Lee yearned to be able to talk with her about his goals, too. But he couldn’t, not without lying to her. He couldn’t even tell her who he really was.
“This damn case.” Lee pounded the steering wheel in frustration.
In the past few years, Lee had longed to meet a woman like Andrea. Someone he could let in. And now he couldn’t even be sure she was for real. Once more he forced himself to admit the possibility that she could be involved in a crime. Lee’s stomach tightened. If she wasn’t, Andrea wouldn’t forgive his role in bringing Denny down along with the gang. He’d have to get over this infatuation. No way could it lead to anything lasting. Lee knew all about goodbyes. This would be just one more for him. But he still had his son. Lee vowed to take off the coming weekend and drive to Houston. The thought of seeing Jake’s eyes light up and hearing him shout, “Hi, Dad!” soothed his ragged nerves. At least for now.
***
Andrea sank onto the sofa at Gran’s house. The pattern of yellow daisies and green leaves on the fabric soothed her. It had been weeks since she’d been able to take a deep breath and relax like this. The scent of baked chicken, hot rolls, and lemon furniture polish was like a hearty “Welcome home!” Although she did not regret getting her own place, her apartment seemed sterile. Long hours at the clinic prevented her from adding the lived-in domestic touches to it. There were at least five boxes she still had not unpacked.
“I knew it. You work too much. Now you’re about to collapse.” Gran squinted at her. “This is the first time I’ve seen you in almost a month.”
‘Two weeks,” Andrea muttered.
“Still too long. And you’re losing weight.” Gran leaned forward in the overstuffed chair that matched the sofa. “These clothes are hanging off you, girl.”
“They are not,” Andrea said. She looked down at the dusty pink skirt and white blouse. “Anyway, I could stand to lose a few pounds.”
“Nonsense. Men like a woman with meat on her hips.” Gran slapped one of her hips to illustrate her point.
“Then I shouldn’t have any trouble with dates,” Andrea quipped. “And I’ll pass on those creamy mashed potatoes dripping with gravy, thank you very much.” “What foolishness! You been hanging around them northern women too long.”
“Gran, you’re a southern snob,” Andrea teased. “Anyway, I’ll have a helping of your delicious okra and tomatoes and a salad.”
Gran wrinkled her nose. “Suit yourself. Supper will be ready in a little bit.” She squinted at Andrea again. “Now what?” Andrea tucked one leg under her. “Speaking of dates, have you and Jamal been out yet?”
“Will you let me take care of my own love life?” “What love life? I’ll never get to argue with Charlene about your wedding at this rate,” Gran retorted with a grunt.
“I refuse, absolutely refuse, to have this discussion, so drop it,” Andrea said in a crisp tone. She glared at her grandmother.
Gran drew her shoulders up and clasped her hands in her lap. “Fine. Snap at me for being concerned about your happiness.”
“That’s enough, Gran dear,” Andrea said through clenched teeth.
“You’re so grouchy because I’m talking sense. You’ll be sorry you passed up that prize of a man, missy,” Gran went on.
“I’m still bruised from the last ‘prize’ I had.” Andrea grimaced at the thought of her ex-husband. “Or would you prefer I heal quickly, like my mother? She moves to a new man at the speed of light.”
“You’ve got a different temperament from Charlene, always had.” Gran grew thoughtful for a few seconds. “But she’s not as bad as all that.”
“Please! You always said Charlene is too flighty, ready to jump from one thrill to the next.” Andrea squirmed down against the cushions to get more comfortable.
“I know, but I wasn’t always right about Charlene,” Gran murmured, more to herself than to Andrea.
Andrea looked at her sharply. Gran’s expression was somber. She seemed to be looking inward. “That’s a switch. I remember some of the shouting matches you two had.”
“I know, and I’m not saying she didn’t make mistakes,” Gran said.
“More than just mistakes, Gran. Charlene went after what she wanted no matter who got hurt.”
Gran looked at her, her dark eyes filled with sympathy. “I know you blame her for making Louis unhappy.
But, sugar, there’s two people in a marriage. Louis played a part in some of what went wrong.”
“Sure, he didn’t lie down and let her walk on him. She wanted money and fine clothes. Daddy was a working man who didn’t have cash to throw around.” Andrea had a bitter taste in her mouth. “I don’t blame him for losing his patience and his temper.”
“Don’t judge your mama so harshly, cher. Louis had problems even before they were married.” Gran picked at a loose thread on her flowered shirt.
Andrea frowned slightly. “I never heard anything like that. What kind of problems?”
Gran was quiet for a moment as she continued to fiddle with her skirt. “He was always kinda unusual even as a boy. But Lord, Louis was crazy about Charlene! He followed her around like a puppy from the time they were ten years old. Never stopped either. Girls were wild for him, too. He had thick black hair, long eyelashes, and hazel eyes. But he didn’t notice any girl but Charlene. Like to killed him when his folks moved to Houston when he turned thirteen.”
Andrea remembered the tall, gentle man with the soothing voice. “Daddy was sweet and sensitive. Too sweet for Charlene.”
“Yeah, ‘sensitive’ is one way to put it. You know he came back to live with his aunt two years later just to be near Charlene. Course, she was boy-crazy by then.” Gran shook her head.
“Daddy never stopped loving her, even when she hurt him,” Andrea said in a quiet, strained voice. “I remember how he enjoyed talking about the first time he saw her. His face would glow.”
Gran shook her head. “It was almost too much. I mean the way he loved her so hard,” Gran said in an odd tone.
Andrea gazed at her. “He was devoted and loving. Not what I’d call faults in a man.”
“Charlene used to say she felt like she couldn’t breathe sometimes. I would tell her she oughta appreciate the boy more. Funny how time changes things. Years later I saw her side. It was too late by then.” Gran rubbed her hands togeth
er. “Maybe things would have turned out different if I’d understood.”
Andrea looked at her. “I don’t understand what you mean.”
“Charlene and I argued over every little thing. She tried to tell me about Louis, even dropped hints about John Mandeville. Course, she didn’t come out and say who he was,” Gran added quickly when Andrea’s eyes went wide. “I’d talk up Louis. I must have told her a hundred times to be thankful such a kind boy loved her so much.”
Andrea felt a stirring of unease but did not know why. Maybe it was the tense expression Gran wore as she talked about Louis. “And you were right.”
Gran gazed at her. “Louis made Charlene his whole life, and not in a good way. Not for either of them. Charlene can’t be tied down. Even as a baby she liked to run free. I never was happy letting her be who she was. I tried to keep her locked up when she was a child. But she’d sneak out and go down the road or climb trees. I tried to change her. So all we did was fuss and fight. Didn’t make a bit of sense.” Gran stared into the past.
“Charlene grew up and made her own choices. You’re not to blame for the way she treated Daddy,” Andrea insisted.
“I’m not saying I am.” Gran looked at Andrea. “What I am saying is you need to understand your mama better. I’m trying to explain why she’s like she is.”
Andrea’s grimace softened. “Honestly, I don’t think she’s intentionally malicious. Charlene doesn’t consider consequences. She sees what she wants and goes after it.”
“That may be true, cher. But like I said, there’s al-ways more than one side to a story.” Gran pressed her lips together.
Andrea felt a chill as though a winter breeze had swept into the room. Gran’s words sounded ominous. “Are you trying to tell me something?”
Gran was silent for almost a full minute. She sighed. “I’m just saying it’s not fair to hold a grudge against your own mama. You were just a baby. You don’t know everything that went on between your mama and papa, no one does.”
Andrea stared at Gran. “There is something you’re not telling me.”
“Have you ever asked her about what happened between her and Louis or John Mandeville?”
