“Then why did you accuse us of having an affair all those years ago?”
“’Cause I was pregnant and broke and I wanted him back and I knew guilt was the only thing that would hold him to me. Hell, we’d still be married if I hadn’t just got fed up with all of it and left town again. Best thing I ever did for myself.”
“You gave up your place in your children’s lives to chase a dream?”
“And I’d do it again. It’s not my fault it’s been so long coming. But I still have hope. Vegas is my next stop.”
“Why are you coming back to Indigo, then? We were only about twenty miles from where you live, weren’t we?”
Casey Jo’s expression turned crafty. “That would really put a crimp in your plans if I came back to Indigo for good, wouldn’t it? Well, you don’t have to worry about that. I have a boyfriend now. He’ll be bringing my car to town when it’s fixed to pick me up. We’re living together. We’re going to get married someday,” she said just a bit defensively. “We’ve been together for almost a year. He’s a pit boss at the casino where I deal blackjack. He thinks I can make it as a lounge singer. In the big hotels, not fly-by-night joints off the Strip. He’s got faith in me. He’s helping me look for a new agent. We’re heading to Vegas in a couple of months. That’s why I wanted to give the kids this treat. After we leave Mississippi, I won’t be able to see them again for maybe a long time.”
“That’s what you really want in life?” Sophie heard herself speak the thought aloud and apologized. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Don’t bother. I might ask you the same thing. You’d give up all this?” Casey Jo indicated the interior of the expensive car, but the gesture was meant to encompass much more: Sophie’s job, her condo, her life in Houston.
“To have what you walked away from, you mean?”
Casey Jo blinked as she absorbed the words. “I suppose you think I screwed up with my kids, taking off like I did and leaving them behind.”
“I wouldn’t have done it,” Sophie replied.
“No, I imagine you wouldn’t. But then you didn’t grow up on the wrong side of the tracks in a one-horse town with your mom tending bar nights and your dad so long gone you can’t even remember what he looked like. Besides, they’ll thank me for it someday when I’m rich and famous. When they’re grown up we’ll all be friends.”
Sophie thought of the hard set to Guy’s face when they’d finally tracked his mother and sister down at the shabby motel on the outskirts of Biloxi. The place bore signs of past hurricane damage in its mismatched shingles and two-toned aluminum siding. She could still hear the angry note in his voice as he argued with her to take Dana to the doctor to get her help for the retching that convulsed her little body. It would take a bigger miracle than Casey Jo’s winning a Grammy for that wish to come true. “I pray you’re right about that.”
“Lordy, you’re a real goody-goody, aren’t you,” Casey Jo said with a flip of her dark hair. “You deserve to be saddled with Alain. You’re two of a kind.” She peered over the console at her sleeping children. Sophie pretended not to see the mixture of pleasure and pain on her face. Her voice was quieter when she spoke next, less brash and confrontational. “I’m not a complete fool. They’re better off with their father and we both know it.”
As she continued to watch, Dana stretched and yawned, then sat up rubbing her eyes. “Mommy, where are we?”
“About halfway home, Snickerdoodle. Are you going to be sick again?”
Dana closed her eyes and scrunched up her little face. Sophie scanned the roadside for a place to pull off, just in case. “No,” she said after a few moments. “I’m not going to be sick. But I’m thirsty. And I have to go to the bathroom.”
“We’ll get off at the next exit,” Sophie promised as Guy stretched and came awake, too.
“Where are we?” he asked, peering into the late-winter darkness that had fallen while she and Casey Jo talked.
“About an hour from Indigo. We should be home by eight-thirty or a little before.”
“Just an hour and a half late.” He sounded pleased with himself, as though he’d accomplished what he’d set out to do.
“I’m hungry,” Dana said with a little quaver in her voice. “My tummy’s growling.”
“There’s a McDonald’s at this exit,” Sophie said doubtfully.
“I could do with a couple of quarter pounders and a biggie fries,” Guy prompted.
“The doctor said Dana should only have soft, light foods for a day or two. I don’t think a burger or chicken nuggets qualify, do you?” Sophie deferred to Casey Jo as the children’s mother, however reluctant she was to assume the responsibilities that went with it.
“She’d heave them back up in five minutes,” Casey Jo agreed in her blunt way.
“Maybe a little ice cream and one of the protein shakes they gave us at the clinic will hold her until we get back to Indigo.”
“Or yogurt,” Dana piped up. “They have yogurt with fruit on top. I like it.”
“Definitely on the mend.” Casey Jo’s smile was genuine and Sophie returned it. She doubted they would ever be friends, but maybe they could get along for the children’s sake, if not Alain’s.
There I go again, planning for a future that might not come to pass.
“I think I’ll top off the gas tank when we stop.”
“It’s over half full—more than enough to get to Indigo,” Casey Jo observed.
“I’m leaving for Houston tomorrow. It will save me doing it then.”
Casey Jo glanced into the backseat. Guy was busy helping Dana into her sweater and shaking the wrinkles out of his jacket. They weren’t paying attention to the adults in the front seat, at least for the moment. “I figured you’d be staying in Indigo.”
“I can’t,” she said as bluntly as Casey Jo would have. “Not yet, at least.”
ALAIN WOKE from a slight doze. He’d been sitting in the wing chair that occupied the place of honor in front of the big window in the living room. No one ever sat in it except at Christmas and Thanksgiving, when the house was overflowing with his sisters and their families, aunts, uncles, assorted cousins and sometimes a neighbor or two, but it commanded a view of the street in both directions and made the perfect observation point.
He hadn’t planned to fall asleep, but it had been a long day and his body had overruled his mind. The house was dark and quiet, no television, no radio, no one talking on the phone. He realized his mother hadn’t come back from Mamère Yvonne’s. She’d been gone for over an hour and he was surprised they both hadn’t returned to keep vigil with him. He glanced at the luminous dial of his watch. A few minutes after eight o’clock. He hadn’t heard anything from Guy or Sophie since they’d left Baton Rouge. If Sophie drove the speed limit, and Dana hadn’t started vomiting again, they should be pulling into the driveway any time.
With Casey Jo in tow.
He stood up, laced his fingers together palms out, and stretched, then shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He walked to the front door and flipped on the porch light. He couldn’t help wondering how Sophie was handling the drive back with his ex-wife riding shotgun.
Headlights speared down the street. He felt his heart kick up a beat or two as a car slowed and turned into the driveway. It wasn’t his mother’s Blazer but a low-slung Lexus. Sophie’s car. He was out the door before it came to a stop. The back passenger door opened and Guy got out, unwinding to stretch his arms high over his head as Alain had just done. A moment later he ducked back inside to re-emerge with Dana clinging to his neck, her legs wrapped around his waist.
“Daddy,” she called, then must have remembered she didn’t feel well and laid her head on her brother’s shoulder. “Daddy, I’m sick,” she said in a much less robust tone as Alain descended the porch steps to meet them.
He held out his arms and she tumbled into his embrace. “I throwed up and throwed up.”
“I can tell,” he said, wrinklin
g his nose. “I think you got some in your hair.”
She nodded solemnly. “I did, and all over my clothes. We had to wrap them up in a plastic bag. They smell awful.” She dropped her head on his shoulder and started to sob. “I missed you. I don’t like to be sick when you’re not there.”
Alain looked over the top of her head to see Casey Jo coming around the front of Sophie’s car in time to hear Dana’s last words. Sophie was standing with her hand on the open driver’s door. She had heard, too. She glanced at Casey Jo’s back and pity filled her eyes.
Sophie would never neglect a child of hers the way Casey Jo did Dana and Guy, not as long as she had breath in her body. Alain was as sure of that as he was that the sun would rise in the east come morning.
“We got back pretty darn close to your deadline,” Casey Jo said, ignoring Dana’s remarks, although there was no way she could have missed hearing them.
“Only because Sophie was willing to make the trip with Guy.”
“I was going to say I appreciate what she did for us if you would have given me time to take a breath of air before you jumped down my throat.” Her eyes glittered with anger, and beneath that a shadow of hurt and regret. Maybe she did realize what she was missing out on with Guy and Dana, but she would never admit it.
Guy was busy taking suitcases out of the trunk, but Dana had lifted her head from Alain’s shoulder to listen to what was being said by the adults. “We’d better take you inside and get you cleaned up and settled for the night. Have you had anything to eat?”
“We stopped at McDonald’s. I had ice cream and yogurt. I’m tired. I want to go to sleep. Where’s Grandma?” she asked as Alain turned to remount the porch steps with her still in his arms.
“Sophie, will you wait?” He was afraid she’d drive off if he didn’t ask her not to.
Casey Jo swiveled her head to stare at Sophie, then turned back to him and held out her arms. She rolled her eyes. “You’re pathetic. Here, give her to me. I can still find my way around this house. I’ll put her to bed then call my mom to come and get me. You can have a few minutes to take one last stab at talking Sophie here into staying in this godforsaken burg.” Casey Jo snorted as Dana unwound her arms from around his neck and settled into her outstretched ones. “Good luck.”
“Don’t be long, Daddy. I want you to tuck me in.” Once more he thought he saw a shadow of hurt flit across Casey Jo’s face, but if he did, it lasted only a moment.
“After all the money I spent on you at Disney World, you still want your daddy to tuck you in?” she said in a teasing voice.
Dana wasn’t buying it. “Yes,” she said, and slithered out of Casey Jo’s arms to march up the steps on her own.
“Ungrateful brat,” Casey Jo said, but her laugh was brittle.
“I’ll be right up.” Alain stayed where he was, his eyes holding Sophie’s.
“Go to her, Alain. We can talk later.” It was hard to read her expression or the neutral tone of her voice.
“I’ll help Casey Jo get her ready for bed,” Guy said, coming up beside them with suitcases in both hands. “Where’s Grandma? I figured her and Grandma Marie would both be here waiting by the curb.”
“I don’t know where Marie is. Grandma Cecily is at Mamère Yvonne’s. I expected them both back here a good forty minutes ago.”
“I’ll give them a call when I get inside.” Guy looked from Alain to Sophie and back again.
“Thanks for all your help today, Miss Sophie.”
“You’re most welcome, Guy.” Her voice warmed. “And I think it’s time you called me Sophie. I don’t know about you, but after today I would like to think we’ve become good enough friends to dispense with the formalities.”
Guy glanced at Alain, gauging his reaction. Alain gave his son a slight nod.
“Thanks, Sophie. And I really do appreciate what you did for me. I…I have some money from my job helping at the B&B.” He blushed slightly. “And Past Perfect. I’d like to pay for the gas we used today.”
Alain could see Sophie debating how to answer. If she brushed aside his son’s offer with a polite refusal, it would make him feel beholden to her. If she agreed to the payment, it would probably wipe out Guy’s small savings account. But he had asked a very big favor of her and Alain wanted him to be aware of what a trip like that cost in time and money.
“Thank you for offering, Guy,” she said, giving the boy one of her wonderful smiles. “Perhaps we can work something out. I’m going back to Houston, you know, and Ms. Prejean will be running Past Perfect. I’d like to think she could call on you for any help she might need. That would mean so much more to me than money.”
Alain clamped his back teeth together to keep from smiling at the ill-concealed look of profound relief on Guy’s face as he digested her suggestion. “I’d be glad to help out at the shop. I’ll stop by tomorrow after school and introduce myself and leave Ms. Prejean my cell-phone number.”
“That will be a real load off my mind.”
“I’d better go help Casey Jo with Dana or she’ll have her so worked up she’ll start puking again.” He caught Alain’s eye as he walked by lugging Casey Jo’s big suitcase and Dana’s little one. “She’s taking off for Vegas again, did you know that?”
“No,” Alain said. “That’s news to me.”
“Yeah, it was to me, too. Like it worked out so good the last time, right? She’s got a boyfriend and she says he’s going to get her a job singing there.” He rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah, what we talked about the other night? She didn’t pass the test.”
Alain watched him climb the steps to the house, then turned and walked toward Sophie. She was still standing behind her car door, almost as if she was using it as a shield.
“Did you catch the bad guys?” she asked, curling her hands over the door frame and resting her chin atop them.
“They never got out of New Orleans,” he said, not even trying to hide his disgust at the wasted effort. “I’m for sure running for sheriff the next election after today’s fiasco.”
“You’ll probably win,” she said, and smiled.
“I’d like to add my thanks to Guy’s for what you did today.”
“You’re welcome. I hoped you wouldn’t think I was taking too much on myself doing it.”
“Why did you do it?” He moved in a little closer, maneuvering around the car door so that she had to turn to face him. “Do you have a Good Samaritan complex?”
“I wanted to help Guy, yes…” She looked down at his chin. “But that wasn’t the only reason.” After a moment she lifted her gaze to his again, and his heart almost stopped beating in his chest. Her gray-blue eyes were luminous with an emotion he was afraid to put a name to. He reached out to take her in his arms, the neighbors be damned.
His cell phone rang. Alain wanted to ignore it, to throw it down on the ground and stomp on it, but he reached for it instead. Only his mother, Guy and the dispatcher at the station had the number. Duty demanded he take the call.
“Boudreaux here,” he growled, his eyes locked with Sophie’s, unwilling to let her look away.
“Chief, it’s Homier,” came the uncertain voice of his rookie patrolman. “I need you down here at the station, ASAP.”
“What’s up?” Unless it involved murder or mayhem Alain had no intention of leaving the spot where he was standing until Sophie Clarkson agreed to be his wife.
“I don’t know quite how to tell you this.”
“Try just spitting it out.”
“Chief, I’ve got your mother and mother-in-law down here in the lock-up. I caught them red-handed breaking into the opera house.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ALAIN COULDN’T BELIEVE his eyes as he stepped through the frosted-glass door that led from the main office space of Indigo’s police station to the small holding area. The surroundings themselves were familiar enough, consisting of a single room with green cinder-block walls and a darker green linoleum-tile floor. There were two cells and an
open area furnished with a wooden desk and chair. Damien Homier sat behind the desk keeping watch over the two women in the farthest cell.
His mother and ex-mother-in-law locked up in his own jail. It was a sight Alain had never expected to see.
“Details, Homier,” Alain barked, fixing his gaze on his subordinate’s red face. “And unlock that cell. They’re not going anywhere.”
“That’s what we told him,” Cecily said, rising from the cot where she’d been sitting, her face flaming with embarrassment as she caught sight of Sophie following Alain into the holding area.
“He handcuffed us,” Marie huffed as the rookie surged to his feet and hurried to do his superior’s bidding.
“There were two of you,” the young man explained hastily. “I couldn’t take the chance on you escaping.”
“It’s standard procedure,” Alain said, cutting Marie off before she could launch into a tirade on his officer’s failings. “What the hell were you two doing breaking into the opera house?”
Cecily glanced at Marie, then her eyes strayed to the ordinary plastic grocery bag resting on the scratched and stained wooden table. “We were just retrieving some things that were left there by mistake.”
Alain went over and looked into the sack. He could feel Sophie peering over his shoulder. The sack was filled with the small overpriced stuffed animals from Past Perfect. “What the hell is it with these things?” Alain asked, picking up the lopsided frog, a price tag of eighty-two dollars tied to its leg, that he’d examined briefly a few days before.
“There’s over two thousand dollars’ worth of animals in that bag according to their tags,” Homier said a shade defensively. “I didn’t find anything else on their persons.”
“You patted down my mother?” Alain couldn’t quite get his mind around that image.
“Not a full pat-down,” the patrolman hurried to explain. “Just their coat pockets. In case, you know, they were carrying concealed.”
Homier was a good kid, an Iraq veteran, an MP just as Alain had been. But he bet the poor guy had never been involved in a collar like this one before. He waved off the stammered explanation his patrolman was attempting and transferred his attention to his mother. “Mom. Marie. I want the whole story, every detail. Now.” He emphasized the words with a little shake of the frog in their direction.
Marisa Carroll - Hotel Marchand 09 Page 18