Swamp Happens: The Complete Swamp Bottom Series

by Cora Kenborn

  “Wonder what their excuse will be this time?” I grumbled as Gus and I climbed out of the car and approached the scene.

  “There’s no telling.”

  “Hey,” Gus called out over Trixie’s banshee-like screams as we reached them. She immediately stopped and turned to face us, and I was surprised she could hear him over the banging of tin cans against the newspaper stand.

  “What seems to be the problem?” Gus continued calmly so as not to alarm the rabid honey badger.

  Trixie threw her hands in the air, causing the half-empty cup of coffee she’d been about to hurl at Nick to fly into the street. She didn’t seem to notice. “It’s about damn time you guys got here! This motherfucker—” she started, but I held up my hand and silenced her mid-rant.

  “Okay, calm down. How about you come over here and talk to me, and Gus will go over there and talk to Nick?”

  She nodded, and I guided her a few feet away to where the patrol car was parked. She rummaged around in her bright pink furry purse for a moment before producing a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Even though I’d gotten to know Trixie well over the past several months to know she was fairly harmless, I still kept my hand on my gun just in case.

  Crazy was still crazy.

  I patiently waited as she pulled one out and lit the end, inhaling deeply then exhaling a puff of smoke directly in my face. I grimaced at the acrid smell but held my ground and waited for her to start spilling. We were familiar with the routine, and if smoking a cigarette calmed her down, I was all for it. She leaned against the patrol car and folded her thin arms across her nearly bare chest.

  “You want to tell me what’s going on?” I didn’t want to know. In fact, if it weren’t my job, I’d pay her not to tell me.

  “Oh, you want to know what’s going on?” Trixie cocked her head, twisting her body to the side to see past me where Nick stood a few yards away talking animatedly with Gus. “This motherfucker is a liar and a cheater!” she bellowed. “That’s what’s going on, officer.”

  “I didn’t touch her, Trix!” Nick hollered back.

  She pointed one of her talons at him, and I thought I saw the whites of her eyes turn red. “You don’t get to call me that no more! No sir, you don’t get to use cute little nicknames with me when you’ve been dipping your dick in some trashy piece of plastic ass!”

  I stepped in front of her, blocking her view of Nick. This shit had to stop. I was sick of catering to her antics. At least at home, the kooky stuff Savannah did managed to provide a modicum of entertainment. I was convinced the woman in front of me did it for sport. I swore sometimes she was building up to be the NOPD mascot, and instead of calling for a 507, they’d just flash a picture of Trixie’s bright pink ass.

  “Trixie, this is the third disturbance complaint we’ve responded to this month, and you’ve been right at the center of every one of them. What did we talk about the last time?”

  “I know, I know,” she drawled out, lifting her hands in surrender as she exhaled another puff of smoke. “But that man drives me absolutely fucking insane sometimes.”

  I let out a sigh. It was way too early on a Wednesday morning to deal with this shit. “I understand, Trixie, but you guys need to keep it together in public. You don’t need to be causing a scene every time you get in a fight. I don’t want to haul you away in handcuffs, but if you keep this up, I’m not gonna have a choice.”

  Her electric pink lips spread into a lecherous smile. “That sounds kind of kinky.”

  I had to lock my jaw to prevent myself from laughing. She didn’t need any encouragement. “I’m serious, Trixie.”

  She toed a loose cobblestone with her boot and waved a hand at me. “All right, fine. It was all for show anyway. I know he didn’t do shit with that skank.”

  The look of confusion must have been evident on my face because she let out a short laugh. “The little hussy was getting fresh with him, and it pissed me off. If I act this crazy over some shit like that, then next time I tell him I’ll chop off his dick and feed it to him if he ever cheats, he’ll believe me.”

  Does she want to go to jail?

  I couldn’t even begin to understand her logic, and I was half tempted to haul her ass in for a seventy-two-hour hold. Maybe some time in a soft padded room would set her straight.

  “You realize I’m an officer of the law, and you can’t say that kind of stuff to me, right?”

  Trixie rolled her eyes and stamped out her cigarette. “I was just kidding. You know that, Officer Pope.”

  “Uh-huh, sure I do.” Turning, I caught Gus’s attention, nodding slightly to let him know that everything on my end was settled. He guided Nick back to where we were and gestured for me to take the lead. I looked between Nick and Trixie. “Are we gonna have any more trouble from you two?”

  Nick shuffled his feet, looking at the ground. “No, sir.”

  I looked at Trixie expectantly. She was the instigator, and we all knew it.

  She sucked on her teeth and avoided eye contact. “We’ll behave.”

  “Good, because like I told Trixie earlier,” I said, pinning Nick with a hard glare. “If we get called out here one more time for the two of you, we’re hauling your asses in. Do you both understand?” I waited for confirmation before continuing. “All right then, clean up this mess you guys made and have a nice day.”

  Trixie pushed off the patrol car, and I watched in astonishment as she flung herself into Nick’s waiting arms. “I’m so sorry, baby. I just overreacted. You know how crazy I get when I see other girls all over you.”

  The woman was certifiably insane.

  “She needs help,” I muttered as we climbed into the car and left the two deranged lovebirds making out on the sidewalk.

  “Just another crazy day in the Quarter,” Gus drawled.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket as we made our usual loop around the Quarter. I scrambled to pull it out of my pocket, hoping it’d be a message from Savannah.

  It wasn't.

  It was a text from Bam-Bam. Savannah had given me his phone number for emergencies, but I’d never used it, so I had no idea how he’d gotten mine.

  BAM-BAM: Meet me at the Clover at 5 PM. Come alone.

  Because that’s not some serial killer shit right there.

  ME: For what?

  BAM-BAM: I’ll tell you when you get there. Don’t be late.

  He sounded more like a kidnapper looking for ransom than my girlfriend’s cousin.

  “Why do you have that constipated look on your face? Do you need a fiber bar or something?”

  The dirty look I threw Gus’s way let him know exactly where he could shove his fiber bar. He raised his hand in surrender. “Jesus, all right, I was just looking out for my boy. Irregularity ain’t no joke. Did she finally text you?”

  “No, it’s her cousin. He wants to meet with me tonight.”

  “The big, dopey one?”

  How he’d managed to remember the details of every member of Savannah’s family when I’d only mentioned in passing was beyond me. He was like the hillbilly Rain Man. “He’s not dopey. He’s just big.”

  Gus gave me a strange side-eyed look. “What, you think he’s going to take you out swamp mafia style and feed you to the gators?”

  “I’m not afraid of him, asshole. It just seems just weird. I’ve never really talked to him, so I don’t know what he’d have to say now.”

  “Unless your girl has been talking about you,” he said, tapping out the beat of yet another sad ass country song. “You did say he was pretty protective.”

  “I guess we’ll find out.”

  The hinges of the door to the Clover squeaked in protest as I stepped inside the tiny diner. The linoleum floor felt spongy under my heavy boots as I made my way to the back where Bam-Bam sat a table by himself. He sat stoically with his hands folded together on the table, staring at the two empty chairs in front of him. It looked like he was trying to recreate a scene out of The Godfather.

 
; When I reached his table, he gestured for me to take a seat. I did and waited for him to explain why I was there, but he didn’t. He just stared at me. Not menacingly, but with a blank look on his face as if he were trying to look through me versus at me. A chime from the bell above the door broke the spell, and Bam-Bam glanced over my head and nodded to someone. Since he hadn’t given me any indication as to why he’d called this meeting, I turned in my seat to see who he’d acknowledged only to find…

  Zep?

  Zep LeBlanc, the guy who seemed to have some weird love/hate relationship with Addie, walked up to the table and took a seat beside me. The heavily tattooed man didn’t seem as confused as I felt. No, he seemed bored.

  He sighed and ran a hand over his beard. “What the hell is all this, Bam?”

  Bam-Bam cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter, although the ripped sleeves and smell of dead fish kind of ruined the image he was going for. “I’ve asked y’all here because the two of you have taken up with the two most important women in my life besides my mama. Now this family just got those girls back, and we wanna make damn sure we keep ‘em.”

  The chain attached to Zep’s wallet jingled as his leg bounced underneath the table. Whether it was in agitation or anxiety, I didn’t know. “Yeah, Bam, pretty sure we all want the same thing.”

  Ignoring Zep’s outburst, Bam-Bam pinned me with his dark eyes. It was a little difficult to take a man seriously when he had grease all over his face and wore a filthy, torn up shirt that had “my mama said you ugly” written on it. But since he had about fifty pounds and a good four inches on me, I tried my best.

  “Pope, we don’t know much about you other than the fact that you lied.”

  All my good will flew out the fucking window and landed on the filthy cobblestones of Bourbon Street. “I didn’t lie. I just didn’t tell her my father was a senator.”

  Bam-Bam’s already beady eyes narrowed into slits, and his big frame leaned over the tiny table, crowding me. “You also failed to mention you were rich. Is that ‘cause you don’t trust her? Did ya think she was some kinda gold digger?”

  Cousin or not, I wasn’t going to put up with this shit.

  I let my fists fall heavily on the cracked laminate table top, and leaned in just like him until our noses were just an inch apart. “No, it was just the opposite, actually. I saw how much she hated Addie’s ex-husband, and I didn’t want her lumping me in with his lot. Savannah is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’d never hurt her or do anything to jeopardize our relationship.”

  “Motherfucker,” Zep growled under his breath at the mention of Roland Bordeaux, and I couldn’t help but agree.

  “And for the record, I’m not rich; my family is.”

  A grin spread slowly across Bam-Bam’s features. “That’s real good, but don’t be offended if I tell you it’s gonna to take a little more than a pretty speech to convince the family your intentions are pure.”

  Zep snorted. “Pure? Have you met Savannah?”

  Bam-Bam shifted his attention to Zep, and I couldn’t help but be thankful to be out of the spotlight. “Don’t think you’re gettin’ off easy just ‘cause we’ve known you forever. You’re the damn reason Addie left in the first place.”

  “That’s not fair. That was a long time ago,” Zep argued.

  I’d only gotten bits and pieces of the story from Savannah, but it was enough to follow along. Basically, Zep had acted like a Lifetime original movie version of a jock and Addie played the part of the good girl—predictable deflowering and betrayal to follow.

  Bam waved a hand in the air and batted away Zep’s pathetic excuse. “It doesn’t matter. The family got together and decided we needed to make sure y’all are serious about our girls.”

  I leaned back in my seat, the pieces of the puzzle finally starting to come together. “And how are we supposed to convince you? You know, since our word clearly isn’t enough for you.”

  “You’re comin’ to the family cookout this Saturday. That way we all get a chance to see how you interact with the girls, and maybe it’ll put some minds at ease.”

  Panic seized my chest as I saw a flash of horror pass over Zep’s face. As the one of us who actually knew these people, he was a safe gauge to use when it came to the Dubois crazy barometer.

  “Is that all?” I asked, moving to stand. I needed to get the fuck away from this guy before he told me I had to compete in the Gator Olympics to continue dating his cousin.

  A full belly laugh rumbled from Bam-Bam, and he slapped the table with a massive paw. “Oh boys, we’re just gettin’ started.”

  Another chime came from the front of the diner, and I cringed to think what else could become of this bizarre day.

  39

  A New Alliance

  Zephirin

  New Orleans, Louisiana

  I was over this inquisition twenty minutes ago, but when Babs shuffled inside clad in a bright orange house dress and took a seat beside Bam-Bam, Pope and I exchanged curious stares. Nobody spoke for a few minutes, choosing instead to cast eyes at each other as if daring the other to make the first move.

  Fuck it. I never backed down from a challenge.

  “Babs, I already know what you’re gonna say—”

  She let out a cackle and slammed a hand down on the cracked table top, silencing me mid-sentence. Although her cataracts had rendered her half blind years ago, she reached across the table and shoved a gnarled finger into my chest, the bony end pushing my back against the booth.

  An irritated look settled deep into the lines around her mouth. “You know nothing, clam digger.”

  “I’m just wondering what prompted this.”

  “First, we get something straight, fur face. You do not ask question. I ask question. You two sit, look pretty, and answer. If you do not fuck up, then maybe I not feed you to gator.” Picking up a knife, she passed it between us before snatching a piece of left-over toast from Bam-Bam’s plate. Muttering to herself, she slathered entirely too much butter on it with one hand while working her teeth out with the other.

  Mesmerized, I sat completely disgusted but too enthralled to look away as she set her teeth in the middle of the table and gummed the hell out of a defenseless piece of bread until it became a soggy mess.

  “Mrs. Dubois,” Pope ran a hand over his closely cropped haircut while channeling his inner hostage negotiator. “I assure you that I have Savannah’s best interest at heart. I’d never do anything to hurt her. But I do have somewhere to be, so if you’ll—”

  Babs took the soggy piece of bread out of her mouth and flung it across the table. I watched in awe as it smacked him in the forehead, leaving a trail of spit and shiny butter smeared across his brow.

  So close.

  “I already have one rich fuck take away my granddaughter,” she snapped. “You do same to my Savvy? I rip off dick and give to Fluffy for chew toy.”

  Threaten to maim any part of a man, and we’ll beat our chests and roar like King Kong. Talk about feeding our dicks to modern day dinosaurs, and we cry like infants. However, her threat wasn’t aimed at me, so I found it funny as fuck.

  Until Babs turned her attention toward me.

  Reaching into the oversized white bag by her side, she pulled out a wooden doll that looked suspiciously like me and slammed it on the table between us, pinning me with a smirk. “Addie cry every time I talk to her when she with cocksipper.”

  “I’m not Bordeaux, Babs.” It was the only thing I could think of to say as the creepy bearded voodoo doll gazed up at me.

  She waited, as if the dramatic pause would amplify her evil powers. “You make her cry like that, I make you cry like little bitch.” Holding my stare, she dragged her teeth across the table and dipped them in my water before snapping them back in her mouth.

  “Just so y’all know, this here conversation never happened,” Bam-Bam pointed out while cracking his scarred knuckles. “Y’all got it?”

  “Yeah, Bam, we g
ot it.” I grew up with Bam and considered him a friend, but I also wasn’t a moron. I’d seen him put a man in the hospital for standing Savannah up for a date. He might have been a good ol’ boy, but family meant everything to Bam. He meant what he said.

  Unfortunately, Pope wasn’t as schooled in all things Dubois. Or he had a death wish. “You both realize that you just threatened a police officer, right?”

  The minute Bam curled his fist, I stood and grabbed Pope by the collar, dragging him out of the Clover while calling over my shoulder, “He’s kidding. Pope’s got a million of ‘em, man. Thanks for the talk. Everything’s cool. See ya both on Saturday.”

  In five wide steps, the chime jingled and a rush of humid Louisiana air sucked us through the doorway. Pope’s heavy boots stopped behind me, and judging by the tension radiating off him, I didn’t have to turn around to know he had a confused look plastered across his face.

  Shoving my hands in my pockets, I stared blankly at the herd of tourists clinking glasses at the bar across the street. “Do you want to get a beer?”

  I expected a tirade, but instead, he let out a long exhale. “I’d like to have several.”

  The need to verify what the hell had just happened with another sane human being overrode my need to block it out. “Did you see her gumming that Wonder Bread?”

  “Dude, just no.” Pope punctuated the phrase with a swipe of his hand and stepped in front of me, taking the lead down Bourbon Street with a nauseated grimace. “I just ate like three hours ago.”