by D. A. Bale
She shook her head. “I happened t’ hear about it all, and didn’t want ya blamin’ Mr. De’Laruse.”
For a second I thought she meant the dads had finally showed up, but since I hadn’t felt a disturbance in the force, I realized she meant George. George – who had probably sent her to take the blame for his dirty deed.
“Don’t worry about it, Sibby. Slinky is fine. No harm done.”
I glanced down to her wrist still in my hand. Long sleeves. On a stifling day. In Louisiana. Before she reacted, I jerked up the sleeve to see bruising and dropped her arm in shock.
“Did George do that to you?”
She backed away, tugging down the sleeve. “I-I…I need to finish setting up for dinner.”
I thought about going after her until Charlotte’s off-key sing-song rang throughout the first floor.
“Jani-i-i-in-n-n-ne?”
My bestie grimaced like she’d just gnawed on something rather unpleasant. “Yes, Mother?”
“We’re in the si-i-itting roo-oo-oom. Come join us, please.”
A deep breath an opera singer would be proud of, then Janine picked up her shoes and marched across the marble with me trailing behind. All I wanted at that moment was to get a big, long drink then rush upstairs and into a cool shower to wash away the dirt and dead things from our long walk – and search out one George De’Laurse.
Especially when we rounded the corner and our eyes rested on a particular guest of the male persuasion seated on the sofa beside Charlotte – and wearing a long-sleeved jacket.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” Lucas said, rising and pressing his lips to Janine’s dirty unoccupied hand even though his gaze drifted to mine.
“Mr. Monette,” Janine said like a properly trained debutante.
Good thing I no longer considered myself a debutante – or proper. “Lucas Monette…again. Why is it that you keep popping up like an unwanted zit lately?”
“Victoria,” my mom hissed, pink splotching her cheeks.
Okay, for Mom’s sake I’d temper my typical straight-forward demeanor. “Excuse me. I meant to say…what are you doing here?”
The gentle tilt of his lips suggested he didn’t take offense to my conduct. Matter-of-fact, his appreciative stare rather said he valued such brazenness.
‘Course it was a bit difficult to ascertain if his appreciation was more for my manner or the fact that my sweaty shirt clung to my chest like the winning contestant on wet t-shirt night. Men being visual creatures and all, maybe I’d been a little harsh in my thoughts toward George earlier.
Nah.
Lucas addressed Janine again. “Please, call me Lucas. Your mother invited me to dinner this evenin’. I hope that meets with your approval.”
“I…uh…”
Janine blushed and cast a desperate glance my way. I rolled my eyes. Talk about trying too hard.
“Of course that’s fine,” Charlotte spoke up for her daughter. “Why wouldn’t it be fine, Mr. Monette? After all, this is my mother’s home, not my daughter’s. She’s at liberty to extend an invitation to whomever she wishes.”
Janine finally found her voice. “Certainly. It’s just unexpected is all. You see, we’ve been out surveying the property line to the north and…”
“Saw the old overseer’s house,” I interrupted. “Janine was just giving me a history lesson on plantation life and how self-sufficient this place once was.”
“Yes,” she said, following my train of thought, “and we got a mite dusty walking around out there.”
“So if you’ll excuse us, we need to get cleaned up for dinner,” I finished, grabbing my bestie’s arm and dragging her from the room toward the stairwell.
Charlotte’s voice trailed after us. “You’ll have to excuse her, Mr. Monette. Janine’s quite the history connoisseur and can talk your limbs off once she gets going. Did you know she’s a music history doctoral candidate?”
“Great,” Janine murmured. “Now she’s proud of that fact when it serves her purpose of marrying me off.”
“Just keep walking, sister,” I prodded. “And leave Lucas to me.”
“What are you gonna do, Vic?”
Perhaps I was wrong and Lucas wasn’t law enforcement – or at least not any longer. But I didn’t trust this guy farther than I could throw him, which with his brawn meant about two inches. First he shows up at the dance club. Then the lake. Next at the yacht club, and now here for dinner. Plus, for the briefest of moments he’d had possession of the Bonafeld journal.
Yeah, this guy was definitely up to something – and not above using my best friend to bring about his fete accompli. Well, two could play that game.
“Whatever it takes.”
***
How do you eat like a queen at every meal and not gain weight? I’d have to pry the secret from Addie. Once again we gathered around a table spread with more food than Ghandi had eaten in a year.
Okay, that doesn’t exactly paint the picture I’m going for. Work with me, folks.
It was only Tuesday evening and my slacks already felt a little snug in the waistband. With the Thanksgiving meal yet to consume on Thursday and the party spread sure to feed an army on Saturday, I thanked my lucky stars I’d chosen a dress this morning that had some give. The way things were going, I was gonna need it.
To help matters along – and with the fact our lunch had been delayed by a couple of hours – I skipped the turtle soup and went straight into the soft shell crab. With the warm waters still percolating in the Gulf, the crab remained in season well past its prime. I sighed as the delicacy hit my taste buds.
Lucas leaned my way. “Enjoyin’ a little southern flavor there, Miss Bohanan?”
“Mmm,” I purred. “Almost as good as sex.”
The clink of silverware against china stopped. I opened my eyes to horrified stares from the mothers around the table, a squirm of lips as Janine fought to temper the laugh I was certain grew in her belly, and a sudden snort of acknowledgement from George. I didn’t dare look at Lucas.
“Did I say that out loud?” I asked.
“I’ll be sure to pass along your sentiments to Maisie,” George smacked around his mouthful.
It rather surprised me to see George shoveling food in so fast. If it’d been me, I’d have been turned off eating anything for the rest of the week. Rest of the day at least. In his case, perhaps it was to cover the lingering flavor of that shit sandwich.
Charlotte picked up her spoon again and addressed Lucas as if I hadn’t interrupted the meal with my tawdry comment. “How are things with your family, Mr. Monette? You mentioned before you’d taken up residence in Baton Rouge after Katrina.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Hmm. Politely sucking up to the mother. Strike one.
“Do you have any plans to resettle again in Chalmette? I understand it is nearly back to normal again after all these years.”
“About as normal as can be expected, Mrs. De’Laruse. The town was virtually washed away by the hurricane and is half the size it once was.”
“But I thought oil production facilities were back online,” Janine said. “Has that not drawn many to return, including your family? The Monette’s do still have ongoing production management there, I understand.”
“Which we oversee from our offices in Baton Rouge, since the family homestead remains uninhabitable.”
“That’s so sad,” Charlotte offered with an overemphasized frown better suited to the sudden loss of a beloved pet – or trying to hold in a fart.
Addie gave her granddaughter a subtle nod of approval, once again proving that Janine stayed up on the De’Laruse family holdings as well as the competition. Too bad the rest of the clan didn’t see fit to give her a place in the company – and had apparently left Addie out of that particular loop. The heir apparent simply continued his inhalations, oblivious to the conversation.
For the umpteenth time, I shuddered at the future lying before the De’Laruse line. If left to George,
the company would be bankrupt in five years from all of the sexual harassment – and other harassment – lawsuits. Then where would that leave my bestie?
Yeah, it was way past time to get Janine standing up on her own two legs – and I wasn’t above using a little bit of in-your-face deviousness to make it happen.
“I’m impressed, Janine,” I said with a devilish grin pressing against my cheeks.
And no, not the shit-eating variety. I’d leave that to George.
Janine cast a wary glance my way. “Impressed about what?”
“That you know so much about the oil industry.”
“Um…well, it is the largest stake of the family holdings.”
“Yes, but how do you know so much about the family holdings?”
Janine’s gaze darted around the table like a billiard ball until coming to rest again on me. After standing up for herself this morning, I hoped she’d get the subliminal encouragement I sent her way that it was time to do so again – and for something more important than a dress.
Apparently she didn’t get the message.
“I…uh…read a report about it?”
Mom’s subtle head shake begged me not to push any further. When Lucas grimaced and hunched over with a grunt, I realized she’d tried to send a more emphatic request my way. Thank God our guest intercepted the Gucci Express message on my behalf.
“Really?” I questioned, ignoring the misdirected missive. “Aren’t sensitive reports only available to company employees?”
“Victoria,” Charlotte huffed, “this really isn’t appropriate dinner conversation.”
Addie narrowed her eyes my way as she directed her question at Janine. “What is Victoria implying, Janine?”
“It’s nothing, Mother,” Charlotte fussed. “Victoria’s simply being silly. Isn’t this crab delicious?” She popped in a bite and gave me the evil eye.
Addie wasn’t deterred. “I think what I’m hearing is that you aren’t employed at corporate headquarters. Is that true, Janine?”
“I…um…you see…with school and all…,” Janine sputtered like when we were teenagers sneaking in from a daring nighttime dip in the pool – and not the one in her backyard.
China rattled when Addie smacked her hands on the table and stood so fast I was afraid she’d topple over backward from a dizzy spell brought on by the sudden change in altitude. That’s saying something for a diminutive ninety year-old woman.
Er, almost ninety year-old.
“Charlotte, a word please” Addie commanded through gritted teeth.
“Mother, I…”
“Now,” the matriarch barked, and strode from the dining room with Charlotte following behind like a naughty puppy, tail tucked firmly between its legs.
George kept his nose lodged in his plate. Mom sighed and shook her head, while Janine’s jaw came unhinged and practically hit the table as she stared after her elders. I picked up my fork and enjoyed another delicious bite of cooled crab.
Lucas cast an amused grin my way. “Two nights in a row. Are all meals this excitin’ around here?”
Only when I’m around – and throwing wrenches into other people’s carefully greased cogs. But I always have the best of intentions at heart. Usually. Some of the time.
Oh, shut up.
***
When Addie and Charlotte hadn’t returned to the table after thirty minutes, Mom claimed a headache and excused herself, while George finished inhaling every morsel within reach and left to do – well, I really didn’t want to contemplate the possibilities. I felt bad for Sibby, but the girl must’ve had an agenda if she let George at her girlie bits willingly. It was the willingly that had me stumped after seeing those bruises.
Then again, some people liked it rough. And there was always the issue with what handcuffs might leave behind.
Hmm.
Janine fell rather silent after we sat down in the front parlor, so that left me to entertain Lucas, who failed to get the hint. Strike two. Some people are just utterly deficient when it comes to manners, subtlety, and personal boundaries.
Okay, you can stop laughing now.
I got really concerned I’d overstepped Janine’s boundaries when she claimed a headache before nine rolled around and hauled off to her bedroom with a halfhearted mumble of goodnight. At least that sent a signal to Lucas that it was time to bow out for the evening. Like a gracious hostess – hey, I listened to some of the things my mom tried to teach me – I escorted him to the front porch and leaned against a column. The frog chorus was just getting warmed up.
“What’s your story, Lucas?”
“Pardon?” he said, turning around halfway down the steps.
“Your story. The real story.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
I studied my fingernails, hard to do in the faint light cast through the open front door. “You say you’re from Louisiana, but I can hear a bit of the northerner in your practiced twang.”
He shrugged. “I’ve traveled extensively…picked up some bad habits.”
“Traveled for your job?” I questioned, getting no reaction in return. “You say you’re not FBI or even state police, but you walk with the stride of a lawman. You sit forward in chairs, knees never crossed but separated as if ready to spring up at a moment’s notice.”
“I like to be prepared for anythin’, is all.”
I walked down two steps and stood above him, the light from behind shadowing his face in darkness on one side while revealing the slight narrowing of his eye on the other.
“And yet,” I continued, “there’s a familiar bulge under your jacket beneath your left arm. Strange you’re wearing one in this heat, by the way…almost like your hiding, what? A gun?”
His silence confirmed my question.
“Why don’t you take off the jacket and show me, Lucas?” I asked, stepping down another tread.
“Why, Miss Bohanan…are you propositionin’ me?”
“Hardly. I’m more concerned about what your intentions are toward Janine. One moment you’re showing her all sorts of attention. Then I catch you staring at me.”
“I can appreciate a lovely woman,” he said. “And you both fit that category.”
In most cases, such compliments and flirtations turned me on. This time? Not so much. No, this time it rankled my catnip a bit.
“Janine has been my best friend my entire life. I won’t just stand by and let her get hurt.”
“I don’t wish to see her hurt either.”
I nodded. “Sounds like we’re on the same page then.”
“S’pose so.”
With that, he walked down the remaining stairs to the waiting Porsche Carrera GT I’d completely missed earlier, gave the engine a rich rev, then drove into the night like Batman in the Batmobile.
Damn, I missed my Vette.
Strike three.
Chapter Seventeen
The breeze through the window screen carried the scent of rain on the air and had Slinky pressing his nose against the crisscrossed framework. One night of freedom, and he was ready to take on the great outdoors – gators and all. A yowl had me tossing in bed with a glance at the bedside clock.
One a.m.
Under normal circumstances, I’m a late-night kinda gal. But after a too early morning spent shopping, a too warm afternoon tramping and tripping around a graveyard, and a dinner of epic eventful proportions, I figured carousing off to dreamland a little early would be a piece of cake. Instead my mind swirled like too much chocolate syrup in milk.
Well, everyone knows you can’t have too much syrup in chocolate milk, but I’m trying to illustrate a point here. Work with me, folks.
The events leading up to my well-intentioned interference churned a hole in my gut. Maybe there was a better way I could’ve broached the subject of my bestie being left out in the cold where the family business was concerned. More than anything, she’d wanted to work with her dad at the helm. Had even kept up on the corporate mac
hinations, evidenced by her conversation with Lucas.
Yet everything concerning the De’Laruse empire focused on grooming the son, while my bestie was relegated to searching out the stud farm. I didn’t blame Janine for being upset with how things transpired this evening, ‘cause I’d yet to wrangle my disease-ridden mouth once again. I only hoped she’d come to the conclusion I’d had her best interests at heart.
Besides, it was obvious someone had mislead or straight-out lied to the De’Laruse matriarch, and it was high time Addie knew the truth.
I knocked softly on the adjoining bathroom door before poking my head around it into Janine’s room.
“Janine?” I whispered. “You awake?”
Silence. No snoring or deep breathing. No rustling of sheets.
“Janine,” I said louder this time.
Once again, no response. No sound. I fumbled the switch and flipped on the light to find the bed empty.
I grabbed my robe from my room – yes, I do actually have one of those – and padded down the hall and down the curving stairs. If Janine wasn’t in her room at this hour, there was only one other place she’d be. The marble tile in the foyer felt delectably cool against my feet until I rounded the corner to the carpet runner down the back hall.
Bingo! Light glowed from under the door of her grandfather’s office. I didn’t bother knocking this time.
“Janine, what are you…?” I stopped dead in my tracks when not just Janine’s gaze greeted mine, but Addie’s too – and both were red-rimmed and puffy. “I’m sorry, I’ll…”
“Stop right there, Victoria,” Addie commanded.
I peeked around the half-closed door.
“Come in and close the door,” Addie finished.
“I really didn’t mean to interrupt,” I said.
“That’s okay, dawlin’. We were about done anyway.”
I stayed in the doorway. “Um…while I have you both here, I want to apologize for creating a scene this evening. I should’ve kept my mouth shut and not interfered.”
Yeah, me and my disease-ridden mouth? Foot firmly lodged right in my pie hole. Again.
“You have nothing to apologize for, Victoria,” Addie said, rising from the chair. “I’ve been led by a false impression for too many years…one I plan to soon see rectified.”
