Verona wanted a bunch of strange things from the canned food aisle and as I wandered along looking for them I ran into Kale.
“Hey there, Red.” He held two different jars of pickled pig’s feet in his hands. “Shoppin’?”
“Yeah, I have a list from Verona.” Shaking the list between us, I nodded to the jars. “Dilemma?”
“Well, I like these, but there’s more in this one.” He held up a jar. “And who knows when I can get back here.”
“Are you going somewhere?”
He looked at me with surprise. “We all are, Red. We’re goin’ underground for the storm.”
“Is it that bad?” I looked out the windows of the store. Duct tape in the shape of a large ‘X’ crossed all the panes. “What’s going on, Kale?”
He put one of the jars in his shopping cart. “Weather service upgraded Hurricane Erin to a category two this morning.”
“Category two?” Worry shot through me. “Hurricane? When was it a category one? When did it go from a tropical storm to a hurricane?”
“It’s still over the ocean and it’s still on ‘Hurricane Watch’, so there’s that,” Kale said happily, and pulled canned cheese from the shelf, dropped one in his basket, and turned to keep going.
I grabbed his raincoat sleeve. “Kale, what are you telling me? What is a ‘watch’ and is that the same as a ‘warning’? Are we going to die?”
Kale laughed. “Die? Red, it’s just wind and rain.”
“No, the weather service doesn’t issue statements on ‘just rain’ Kale.” I could hear the timbre of my voice hitch up and tried to keep calm. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“A watch is when high winds and rain are possible, a warning is when they’re expected. But that’s thirty-six hours from now, anyways. Besides, we get these warnings all the time and then the storm never makes landfall, or goes off in some other direction. Don’t worry, Red.” He patted my shoulder and once again.
I felt like a child struggling to understand something everyone else seemed to know. “But all the people in the streets…”
“Well, we are preparing just in case. We been through this before and once the winds hit, it’s near impossible to get anything done.”
“Oh.” I bit my lip remembering Verona’s window and wondered how much worse it could get. A tree through the house was pretty bad and I survived that. “Thanks, Kale.”
“You take care, Red,” he said and went on his way.
I stood in front of the canned meats, my mind blank with stress.
“In tight with the locals now, I see,” a familiar voice intoned.
Everest Jones stood next to me in a spanking new all-weather coat. It looked like he ripped it right off of a mannequin at an outfitter’s shop.
“Hey.” I pulled a couple cans off the shelf and dropped them in my basket. Then realizing it was an odd place for Everest to be, I looked up at him. “What are you doing here?”
His wet hair, stuck to his forehead, looked matted and his eyes, underscored with dark circles, watched me intently. “I came to update you on the symbol you gave me from your brother’s letter.”
“You came all the way out here from Thibodaux to tell me?”
“Sometimes conversations can be…overheard.” His eyes went to Kale, further up the aisle. “And I thought you deserved some privacy.”
I stepped back. “Speaking of privacy, Everest, about the symbol—”
He put his hand up, cutting me off. “It’s nothing, Riley. No one recognizes it. I even uploaded it to a search site that runs images. No one’s seen it before.”
I slapped my hand to my forehead. “You uploaded it to a website?” I hissed, tried to keep the anger from my voice.
“Is there a problem?” Everest’s voice grated on my nerves, insulted.
Recovering, I shook my head quickly and forced a smile. “No, no, I appreciate you doing all of that, but the police might not be too happy with me for that one.”
“Well, I thought I was helping.”
His pouty attitude made it harder for me to keep the smile plastered on my face.
“You were helping, completely. I just…I’m out of sorts right now, Everest.” I rubbed my jaw, felt the bandage over the cut on my chin, and cringed.
He nodded, the look on his face going from perturbed to concerned. “Yes, I heard about your run in at the Lightning Bug.”
“Yeah, well,” I nodded to the newspaper folded under his arm. “Everyone’s heard, by now.”
He looked at me and cocked his head to the side. “No, your mother told me when she came to see me.”
Startled, I blinked at him. “When did that happen?”
“I assumed you were still in the hospital. She seemed really worried for you, Riley.”
“She was…” I frowned, trying to understand. “Why did she go see you?”
“Willow wants you to go home. In fact, she paid me to talk to you, through an anonymous donation. I thought you might want to know.”
Anger welled up in my throat and I had to blink to keep the tears from falling. “She paid you to talk to me?”
“That’s really why I came to find you, Riley.” He sighed, and I thought I smelled something pungent, like tea or coffee of some sort on his breath. “Your mother thinks it might take more than talk to get you to back off and said as much.”
“Did she say what that meant?”
“She didn’t say what she would do, but she seemed very determined.”
“Why…why would she do this?” I thought about our conversation at the hospital and my throat ached with hurt.
Everest held up the newspaper. “Judging from this morning’s paper, I’m starting to agree with her.”
My hand went to my mouth, shocked. On the front page, the headline accused me of interfering with the investigation into the plant disaster and the death of Dauby. It was taken at the harvest festival. It was a picture of Jake and me dancing, but the caption underneath it made my heart pound.
Local sheriff, Jacob Ayers, booted from investigation for consorting with suspect.
“Oh, no!” I took the paper from Everest and scanned the article. Again, the reporter was Park Davis. “How did he get this picture?”
“Are you OK, Riley?” Everest put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently. “I thought you knew.”
I stepped back from his grasp and handed the paper back. “Who is feeding Davis this stuff?”
“I have to tell you, this Davis guy, I’ve worked with him before. He interviewed me after the explosion, when Eco Warriors came out to help with the cleanup. Even back then, he said he had an inside source that Randy wasn’t the only one involved.”
I looked at Everest, shocked. “What?”
He nodded solemnly. “Davis said he thought it was someone close to Randy, but at the time he was a young guy in a sea of seasoned reporters covering the disaster. No one paid him any attention, but now…” He held the paper up. “It seems the authorities are picking up on his rumblings. They’ve even called my office asking about any dealings with The Drake Foundation I might have had.” He let the implication hang in the air.
I was being investigated in earnest?
This wasn’t just a rumor in the paper anymore. This was real.
“Everest,” I grabbed his sleeve and he took a step back, alarmed. “I need to know if you know anything about my brother, or this Davis guy, that can help me clear this up.”
“Riley,” Everest said in whisper as he pried my fingers from his jacket. “I never met your brother and everything I know about Park Davis, I just told you.”
I nodded, my mind churning with the news. “O – OK,” I licked my lips, nervous. “Thanks.”
Everest looked at me and his face registered worry. “I’m sorry about this, but maybe your mother is right.” He handed me the newspaper and pulled his hood over his head. “Maybe you should get out of La Foudre for a while. Maybe think about getting out of Louisiana, altogether.”
<
br /> I watched him leave, my heart thudding. I felt attacked from every angle. The investigation, my family, even my own paper seemed to be aligning against me. Stealing a glance down at the picture in the paper, my tears finally fell. What had been a wonderful night, a night full of promise, now seemed like a huge mistake.
For both me and Jake.
25
Jake
Jake threw the newspaper onto his desk, knocking over a cup of pens and scattering them to the floor. “Who is this Davis idiot?”
Outside, a harsh wind rattled the door and sloughed rain against the wire mesh windows of the station. Jake’s radio squawked on his belt.
Rick and Dan were dealing with another collision out by the post office.
A headache stabbed at Jake’s right eye, pushing his blood pressure up.
Toughie, leaning on the front of his desk with his arms crossed, arched an eyebrow, but didn’t move. “He’s a pretty smart reporter, if you ask me.”
“Well no one asked you,” Jake snapped and rubbed his eyes. “I didn’t even see a photographer there that night.”
“Don’t need to have a fancy camera with the cell phones they make these days. Could’ve been right next to you snapping pictures and you wouldn’t be the wiser.”
“The last thing I wanted to do was lose grip of this thing, and now I’ve been booted from the investigation altogether.”
“Under a cloud of shame, no less,” Toughie said.
Jake’s gaze shot to his deputy.
The look of quiet amusement puzzled Jake.
“You think this is funny?”
“I think it doesn’t matter, right now.” Toughie turned, picked up a file from his desk, and handed it to Jake. “Got a call from Girard over at the emergency room early this morning.”
Jake took the folder, used it to point at Toughie. “Doesn’t matter. We’re shut out of the investigation, Toughie. The Staties and FBI think Riley is part of this.”
Toughie took gum from his mouth, tossed it in the trash bin, and pulled the foil pack with more pieces out of his pocket. “Will you read the file, Jake?”
Angrily flipping open the file, Jake scanned the contents, his gaze snapping to Toughie with shock when he finished. “This guy still there?”
Toughie nodded. “He won’t give his name and Dr. Iverson did you a favor and didn’t tell the Staties yet, but you have to get out there. Word will spread. You know La Foudre.”
“This guy,” Jake tapped the file. “He have red hair?”
“Carrot top, yeah. Cut up, too. Sliced with a piece of glass, like a shard of mirror, maybe?”
Riley’s small form on the gurney flashed behind Jakes eyes. He gritted his teeth. “The guy who attacked Riley,” Jake said, the steel in his voice evident. “Let’s go and have a talk with him.”
26
I drove back home with Verona, lost in thought, thinking about Jake and the wake of disaster I brought into his life since I got here. The newspaper in my jacket pocket, I brooded over my mother’s actions and Everest’s warnings. I needed to call Bradley. I needed to talk to him about Park Davis.
I helped her carry in the bags of supplies, and we set them on the kitchen island’s counter and started to unpack. Wind whipped the thick plastic sheeting Verona and I taped over the window before we left. Her floor was puddled with rain and dirt.
“You look like you’re about to jump out of your skin.” Verona sighed and reached into her bag. She pulled out a cardboard overnight delivery envelope. “Might as well give you this now. Citrine came into the hardware store right before I came to get you. She said it came last night.”
Verona handed it to me. Addressed to the Lightning Bug, from the North County Chronicle’s main office, I held it up to her with a quizzical look.
“Don’t look at me. It was open when she gave it to me.”
I sighed, pulled out the paper, read it, and sank onto the stool stunned.
“Bad news?” Verona asked from the cabinet. She piled cans into it four high.
“I just got fired.”
“What?” She walked up and looked over my shoulder at the form letter. “That’s cold.”
The letter, short and to the point, severed my contract with the paper. Bradley’s signature at the bottom was a stamp. He didn’t even sign it. I checked my phone. He didn’t even call.
Clearing my throat I stood, paper in hand. “I have to…”
She waved me away. “Yeah, yeah, give them a piece of your mind.”
I walked to my room in a daze. Just days ago, a national news network wanted me for a show and Perry was fielding book offers, now this. I bit my bottom lip, forcing the tears back. Sitting on the bed, I dialed Bradley’s private number. A year ago, I got it from Perry’s secretary, but never used it. Now, however, I was sure he’d never take my call via the paper’s switchboard or his assistant. I waited through the ring, my heart thumping when he picked up.
“You fired me through the mail?” I said calmly. “Not very brave of you, Bradley.”
He didn’t respond, and I looked at the phone to be sure he hadn’t hung up.
“It wasn’t my call, Riley. The lawyers said it was best to sever ties with you through official channels.”
“Why, Bradley? Is it the press? Cause I need to talk to Davis. He’s wrong on a lot of—”
“It’s not just the press, Riley. The FBI showed up here yesterday afternoon with a warrant for your files.”
“I don’t keep files there,” I said in reflex. “The FBI? What do they want?”
“Oh, you know, they told me their whole battle plan over tea and crumpets before they left.”
“You don’t need to be a jerk, Bradley.”
“They wouldn’t say, Riley, but they were very on edge. They interviewed the photographers who worked with you over the past months. They took the computer you share with the staff…” He sighed heavily. “It’s chaos here.”
“Well I’m sorry for you,” I snapped.
“Riley, is there something you need because I could get the shaft just for speaking to you right now.”
I let out a ragged breath, overwhelmed with panic and shock. “I need to know where Davis is getting his information.”
“You know I don’t know that. I wouldn’t tell you if I did, anyway.” The words didn’t match is tone of voice though, so I pressed him.
“Please, Bradley. Someone attacked me and took my laptop the other night, nearly killed me.”
“Are you serious?” His voice sounded more interested than concerned, and I stifled the urge to yell at him.
“Yes. Something is going on, and I think I’m getting pushed in front of it by someone.”
“I don’t know…” He needed to be convinced.
“Please, Bradley. I didn’t have anything to do with the plant explosion other than try to stop it. You know that. You know me.”
Bradley remained silent for a beat, and I said a silent prayer that he would believe me. That someone would help me.
“Look,” he whispered. “Davis told me that the source he had close to the investigation sought him out, not the other way around.”
“Who is it?”
“I don’t know. I doubt he’s even met them, but he did say it was a woman. A woman with a southern accent.”
I froze. “Did he say anything else? Was she young, old, what?”
“Only that everything she’s given him panned out. She must be there in La Foudre, Riley. Someone there is watching you.”
Alarm rattled through me and I struggled for words. “Watching me, here?”
“Riley?”
My phone beeped, and I looked at the screen. Perry’s phone number and picture popped up, and I rubbed my eyes with my hand.
“Listen, Bradley, thanks for the help. I – I have to go.”
“Riley,” he said quietly. “I hope you come out of this OK. I really do.”
“Thanks.”
I rang off with him and tried to switch
over to Perry, but the call went to voicemail before I could. I sat on the bed staring at the phone in my hand. I should call him back, but I was pretty sure what he meant to say to me. If the paper let me go, then Perry wouldn’t be far behind.
“You OK, Red?” Verona stood at the door, a plate in her hand. “I made you a sandwich.”
Forcing a smile, I took the plate and set it on the bed next to me. “Verona, you think Citrine knows any reporters?”
She sat on the hope chest at the end of the bed. “You mean other than you?”
“I mean, yeah, other than me.”
I watched her eat her own sandwich wondering what the accent Davis heard sounded like. Verona, Ida, Citrine, Sheila the dispatcher, even Sierra, the Mr. Sudsy woman, they all sounded southern, but in different ways. It could be any of them, or none of them…certainly not Verona.
“Well, some reporters did stay at the Lightning Bug that first few days after Randy blew up the plant. Why?”
I shrugged, trying for nonchalant. “I just learned something disturbing.”
She stopped mid-chew. “What happened on that phone call? You look like a cornered rabbit.”
I pulled the newspaper from my pocket and tossed it on the bed in front of her. “The guy who keeps printing things about me in the paper gets his information from a southern-accented woman close to the investigation.”
“What things?” She leaned forward, scanned the paper and gulped audibly. “This is bad.”
“For Jake, too,” I said to her. “You really didn’t know about this?”
“How am I going to sit around reading the paper with the walls of my house caving in?” She took another bite of her sandwich while reading. “What did Jake say?”
“I haven’t heard from him today.”
Verona nodded, her eyes on the photo of me and Jake dancing. “That’s not good.”
My phone buzzed in my hand. Rain Associates flashed on my screen and I pressed the talk button. “Reyna?”
“No such luck,” Salem’s voice came back. “But I do have some more stuff for you.”
“What is it?”
“I emailed it to you, but I’ll give you the highlights.”
Bayou Blue Page 22
