“At Grossman Chemicals?” Jake always wondered if there’d been someone on the inside, someone who helped Randy. “No, he didn’t work there as far as I know, but we’re still pulling in information.”
Hammet cleared his throat. “OK, well, I got an order to get Dauby’s body ready for transport to the coroner in New Orleans, but I thought, you know, since he was a parish boy…I know you and Toughie are still sort of looking into his death and all.”
Jake sat back down. “You did good, Hammet. I’ll pass this on to Toughie and we’ll check it out.”
“OK.” Hammet hung up.
He was missing something. Jake raked tired fingers through his hair. He resolved to talk to Ida after his shift. It was possible that Dauby was working under another person’s ID. He’d done it before.
Jake finished up a few incident reports from the day’s calls.
The intermittent rain brought out nervous antics in the locals that made for irritation, but no real trouble.
He scanned his notebook.
A stranded motorist took up most of the morning.
Toughie roused him from a fitful sleep at dawn to help pull Draper Benoit out of a swelled-over river way. He complained the entire time that his other truck made it through the water in years past.
Jake made a note to ask after his injuries. He hadn’t told Verona to check on him.
She was the only one capable of convincing her dad to let the doctor check out his sprained wrist.
Later that morning, he let Pilkey and his brother off with a warning for gutter surfing.
The old parish flooded easily this time of year with the mud and leaves clogging up the storm drains.
Jumping in their pick up and taking turns towing each other down the flooded streets at thirty miles an hour was plain stupid.
He’d done it himself and nearly bashed his brains in on a mailbox post.
Lightning blew out a transformer on the edge of the parish, leaving The Lightning Bug and several other homes down the bayou without power for most of the night and day.
His thoughts went to Riley and her strange habit of turning on all the lights in a room. He wondered how she fared with no electricity. He wanted to ask her, maybe try to get her to talk to him, but had to leave before anyone was up.
Phone calls with the state police, dealing with the crime scene, and talking with Dauby’s family chewed up the rest of the day. Now almost supper and he didn’t have a clue where the time went. A round of raucous laughter from outside pulled his gaze to the window overlooking the festival grounds.
He’d handled things poorly with Riley. He could tell she’d been shaken up after the incident at Dauby’s and he’d gone to see her, only to make sure she was OK. But when he got close to her, felt her warmth, he got caught up in those mesmerizing eyes and the sweet scent of her. He couldn’t stop wanting to wrap her up in his arms and…
Jake put his elbows on his desk and held his head in his hands. I don’t know what I’m doing, Lord. I don’t know how to heal this parish. It’s been so long since I had any kind of hope for a life with somebody…why does it have to be Riley? Why the one person I can’t have?
Feeling no peace, he leaned back to stare at the ceiling.
After it was clear that her brother did it, Riley promised him she wouldn’t come back to La Foudre. Back then, never seeing her again felt like a boulder settling on his chest, but that was nothing compared to having her so close and not being able to do anything about it.
The injured look in her eyes when he told her he was cutting her out of the investigation nearly ripped him in half.
Riley seemed no better equipped to deal with him.
He couldn’t believe she risked falling two stories in the middle of the night rather than face him. Jake thought about her standing in his room, leaves sticking out of her long, dark red hair.
She could level him with one look and the thought of not being with her made him feel like he’d fall forever and never hit bottom. He was gone for her and knew it, had known it for some time.
So why did you just run her out of town?
What he wanted and what was right didn’t ever seem to match up.
The two-way radio on his desk squawked and he picked it up.
“Ayers,” He muttered. “What is it?”
“It’s Toughie. I got a couple drunken musicians here accusing each other of stealing.”
“Come again?”
“I got one trombone and two guys saying it’s theirs and that the other guy is lying.”
Rubbing his right eye with his hand, Jake dug in his desk for a bottle of aspirin. “Well did you threaten to cut it in half?”
Toughie’s low chuckle rumbled out of the radio. “They’d probably beat each other with the pieces.”
“I’ll be over in a minute,” Jake muttered. “Separate them and keep them from hurting anybody.”
“You got it.”
Jake stretched, and grabbed the sheriff’s star.
“You weren’t a stupid boy, Jake,” Verona’s voice called from the front counter. “How is it that you’re being such a stupid man?”
“Evening, V,” Jake said back. “Come as part of the goodwill committee, again?”
Waving away the question, she lifted a section of the counter, clicking her gum as she walked over. “Where’s Red?”
Ignoring her question, Jake leaned back on his desk, half sitting, and crossed his arms. “You’re not supposed to be back here.”
“She’s just as stubborn as you are, you know. Someone’s got to bend for you two to have any sort of chance.”
“Comment?” Jake tried to shrug off her words.
“You know what I mean, Jake.” She sauntered back, her head cocked to the side, looking at him with a worried smile. “You planning to hide out here all night? There’s a party outside in case you hadn’t heard.”
“Oh, I’ve heard.” Jake nodded to the cells. “I’ve got a few revelers here for company, already. And I’m not hiding. I’m on duty.”
Verona stopped in front of Toughie’s desk, scooted onto it, and sat facing Jake. “You hiding from her?”
Jake stared, and then shrugged. “I have no—”
“Oh, please, Jake. I saw you with her, remember?” She pointed to his face. “I’ve seen that look on you before.”
“Don’t do this, V.”
“You going to deny there’s something there?”
“No.” He answered simply. No point in lying to her. “Doesn’t matter what I want, though. It’s a bad idea. Her brother blew up the town, Verona. Besides, she and I fight whenever we get within ten feet of each other.”
“Maybe you should get closer,” she drawled.
Jake grabbed his hat from the rack, pointedly ignoring the comment. “I told her to leave town.”
“Like that’s never happened before.”
He turned, unable to hide the sorrow swirling in his gut.
“You think she’ll do it?” Verona asked quietly. “You think she’ll just…leave again?”
Jake plopped his hat on his head, stared at Verona and shrugged. “I told her I was freezing her out of her brother’s investigation. That I couldn’t trust her, so yeah, I think she’ll probably leave.”
Her eyes bored into his. “Is there some reason you’re refusing to see this woman is the one good thing to come out of all of this? That she just might be what you need?”
“It’s not that simple. The parish—”
“She tried to stop it,” Verona said, a little too loud. “Doesn’t that make a difference to you?”
Jake stepped up to Verona, his voice a harsh whisper. “Of course it does.”
“Then what is your problem, Jake?”
Frustration burned. He took Verona by the elbow and marched her to the counter, away from the ears of the station’s prisoners.
“The FBI is looking into her and I let her take evidence from her brother’s room, V,” Jake said in a low growl. “The Stat
ies think she might have known about Dauby; that she came back into the parish to tie up loose ends.”
“They’re just sore she tracked another suspect after they practically closed their investigation,” Verona said. “She showed them up and they’re mad.”
Jake rubbed his eyes, wincing at the pain. “It’s not just the authorities, V. You heard about Sierra’s assault on Riley today?”
“So she lost her temper.”
“You know she’s not the only one who’d go after Riley if given the chance. Do you think all that is just going to go away?”
“I don’t know, maybe, with time?”
Maybe, Jake thought, he was getting through to her.
She looked at him for a beat and then shrugged. “So that’s it?”
“That’s not enough?” Jake shook his head. “If she got hurt here…if she got hurt more than she already has, I don’t think I could weather that, V.”
“Well, I think it should be Riley’s decision whether or not you’re worth the risk.” Blunt as ever, Verona’s words hit home.
“It’s not just that. This town is still trying to heal.”
“You’re worried what these people think?” She hooked her thumb at the window. “Did you even bother to ask them?”
Jake looked at her confused. “What?”
“Pilkey and Kale like her. I like her. Ida does, in her own way, and Bonnie.” She ticked the names off on her fingers. “That’s something.”
“What are you saying?” A whisper of hope called out to Jake and he ground his jaw against it.
“Not everyone wishes her ill. Not everyone blames her. Some of us even understand what she’s doing.”
“Them tolerating her is a far cry—”
“What happened to the Jake who didn’t care what people thought?” Verona cut in. “The one that went his own way?”
“Well, we all know how his life turned out.” Jake held up his keys. “I have to go.”
Her eyes went to the star in his hand. “There’s more to life than this office.”
“I know that,” Jake muttered as he passed her.
“Then do something about it,” Verona urged. “You shouldn’t have to serve penance here.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you deserve your own life. It means you didn’t kill Jason.”
“Son ma faute.”
“No it wasn’t your fault, Jake. Your brother was a grown man. He made a dumb mistake in anger!” She threw her hands up, exasperated. “How long are you going to turn your back on life, out of guilt? You have a right to your own happiness.”
Jake stared.
She never, in all the years since his death, ever mentioned Jason to him, and it stopped him in his tracks.
“Why are you so concerned with Riley, anyway?” Jake shot back. “You hardly know her.”
Her expression softened. “But, I know you, Jake. I’m afraid that you’ll fade into this office year after year until there’s nothing left, but that stupid star in your hand.”
Jake pointed to his desk. To the place his father and his grandfather sat. The place his brother occupied until he died. “Well, someone has to sit in that chair, V.”
“Yeah, well…” She turned to leave, a look of sadness on her face. “It doesn’t have to be you.”
18
String lights glowed like fireflies skimming the sky. They tented the dance floor in streamers of softness against the night. White lights lit up the food tents and encircled the wood railing around the dance floor.
Scents from slow roasted barbeque meats, popcorn, and cotton candy reminded me of carnivals from my childhood. Next to me, a table draped with a red-checked cloth held rows of the parish’s best pies. Apron-clad women shooed away would-be sample stealers.
The last sliver of sunlight burned crimson at the horizon, a storm cloud churning over it like a dark halo.
I felt the temperature drop. A cool breeze ruffled the multi-colored flags strung over the game booths.
A few older kids enticed younger ones to try their luck and help pay for the school’s new band uniforms, and I watched them throw softballs at metal milk bottles.
On a dance floor surrounded by bales of hay and picnic benches, families ate and hugged and laughed. The soft jazz from the visiting musicians floated around twirling couples shuffling past me on the gleaming wood. Some of them smiled and chatted, some held each other close and barely swayed, lost in their own world.
I watched them all with envy.
Reyna, concerned over my apparent pathetic state, drove up to the festival with her husband on the premise that Jimmy wanted to meet one of the jazz musicians. She also wanted, she’d said, to give me her investigation report in person.
I knew pity when I saw it. I let them convince me to come to the festival, but only because I’d overheard that Jake wouldn’t be there.
The wind whipped at my dress. Borrowed from Reyna, the pale blue silk fell to my knees in a cascade of soft folds. I wore my hair down, in auburn ringlets that fell nearly to my waist. The breeze rustled stray tendrils across my eyes and I smoothed them down.
Salem, Reyna’s partner in the detective agency, sidled next to me on the haystack and handed me a glass mug with steaming cocoa and whipped cream pushing out of the top.
I smiled and cradled it in my hands, not craving the sweetness and warmth. Not wanting to be here at all.
He bumped me playfully with his shoulder. “You look like you need one of those storm clouds floating over your head.”
I smiled at his colorful image.
Salem had a way with people. Surfer-blond, handsome, tall, with an easy way about him, he looked like he belonged at a country club party. Very few people know he used to be a street kid. He used to be in prison. He could read people very well, and lying to him was fruitless.
“Louisiana hasn’t been the stuff of travel brochures for me lately.”
He chuckled and sipped from his own mug. “Is anything ever?”
“I guess not.”
“You look stunning, Riley,” Salem said and smiled. “You’re turning heads.”
I smooth the silky fabric on the bodice. “Thanks.”
“Hoping for a particular southern gentleman to happen by?” Salem scanned the crowd.
“You know what I’m doing out here?”
“I do,” He answered. “And I think it’s very brave and very dumb.”
That got a grin from me. “Well, don’t sugarcoat your opinion, Salem.”
“Never do.” He grinned at me and I couldn’t help but grin back.
“How’d Reyna talk you into coming with them? A bayou shindig doesn’t strike me as your style.”
Salem whipped hair from his eyes with a toss of his head. “She felt it would be,” he made air quotes, “good for me to get out.”
“Did you and your girlfriend break up again?”
“For good this time, I think.” A sad smile marred his face. “She’s better off.”
“So they dragged you off to a harvest festival? Maybe you’ll catch the eye of a bayou beauty.”
That got a chuckle from him.
“Maybe.” He nodded to the manila envelope Reyna gave me.
It contained all the information she dug up on Randy.
“You look at the stuff, yet? I was able to clean up the picture you emailed us. Looked like a schematic, but that’s not my area so I sent it to a buddy of mine. I hope that’s OK.”
“Sure, it’s fine. I could use all the help I can get.” I patted the envelope with my hand. “I’ll take a look at it tonight. I promised Reyna I’d try to give the festival a chance first.”
Sitting next to him, I watched the sun slip below the dark line. It left a purple wash of light that outlined the craggy landscape against a deep evening sky. I glanced up at the swinging string of lights overhead. They seemed brighter now that the sun was gone.
“I know what I’m doing, Salem.” I didn’t like the unc
ertainty in my own voice.
He kept his eyes on the dancing couples. “I hope you get what you want out of all of this. I hope it helps you put Randy to rest.”
“Me, too.”
“What about that sheriff? The one who helped you search for Randy the first time you were here. From what Reyna said, you really got turned upside down by this guy. Where is he?”
“I don’t know.” I tensed before I could hide it from him. “He’s still conducting an investigation, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“That’s not what I’m asking.”
I drew in a breath, held it, and let it out in a frustrated whoosh. “It doesn’t matter, really.” I saw his doubtful face, and felt even more like a liar. “That’s not why I came back. That’s not why I’m here, Salem. I don’t have time, or energy, to deal with the likes of Jake Ayers.”
“The likes of?” Salem let out a deep chuckle. “Oh, man. You have been in the bayou too long.”
“He all but told me to leave.”
“Are you?”
I thought about what I’d learned about Randy at Dr. Faulk’s office.
“I haven’t decided whether or not to leave, just yet. I really don’t see the point in staying. He’s shutting me out of the investigation.”
“So?” Salem cocked an eyebrow. “Aren’t investigative reporters more determined than this? What happened to dogged pursuit of truth?”
“I wouldn’t get far. Jake and everyone else in this parish acts like I’m running around town with a powder keg strapped to my butt.” I paced in front of the haystack.
“Well, you kind of do, though, don’t you?” He finished off his cocoa and took my mug, setting them on the ground near the haystack. “Maybe not a powder keg, but you aren’t exactly making friends out here and this is his parish, one that’s barely healing from a terrible incident.”
“I know that. I’m trying to tread lightly here. I didn’t just go barreling into town rattling peoples’ lives out of the blue. I’ve tried to work with him, but he…” I tried to clear my thoughts. “He makes a mess of me. I can’t be around him and stay focused. I need to put some space between us.”
“I thought you and he…” Salem shook his head. “I thought there was something there.”
Bayou Blue Page 17
