Bayou Judgment

by Robin Caroll

  “And he didn’t mention any names of these loan sharks?”

  Felicia set the drink down with an echoing thunk. “No, he did not.” She’d answered the same questions for the better part of an hour, and her patience was close to snapping. She shoved to her feet and grabbed her cane. “If there’s nothing else, I’d like to start getting my apartment back in order.”

  Sheriff Theriot stood as well, pocketing his trusty notebook. “That’s all for now. If you find anything missing, you’ll need to let me know. I went ahead and called Luc for you. He should be here any minute.”

  Her muscles locked. “You did what?”

  “Called Luc for you. Thought I’d save you some time.”

  “I had no intention of calling my brother just yet.” She narrowed her eyes, pushing down the flaming words burning her tongue. “It’s none of his business. You had no right to call him, Sheriff.” Now she’d have to deal with him bullying her to move home, just when he’d started to back off. His threat of packing her up if there was any further sign of violence rang in her ears.

  “I’m sorry if I overstepped. I just thought you’d want him here. At least until Kipp is caught.” The sheriff shook his head and ambled to the door.

  Good manners wouldn’t allow her to let him leave without a soft word. “Merci, Sheriff.”

  His cell phone rang. “Sheriff Theriot.”

  Felicia stood silent, watching the tense lines of his body language and unabashedly eavesdropping.

  “Great. Bring him to the station for questioning. I’ll meet you there.” He shut his phone and grinned at her. “They found Kipp at the bank branch in Abbeville. My deputy stopped him as soon as he came in the door. We’ll keep the check as evidence of his extortion.” He opened the door. “I’ll let you know what the status is.”

  The door closed with an empty thud. She took in the shambles of the room, let out a small huff, then lifted a cushion and put it back on the Queen Anne chair.

  “I’ll help.”

  Startled, she turned. Spence had already begun shoving couch pillows back to their places. How could she have forgotten he was still there? “You don’t have to help me. I’m not an invalid, you know.”

  “I never implied you were. I’m just offering to help you.”

  She slammed the phone back to its rightful place on the end table. “I’m sick of people thinking I can’t do for myself. Or make decisions.”

  “Are you talking about me, here, or Luc?”

  He had her there. But did he have to be the voice of reason? She fisted her hands on her hips. “More Luc and the sheriff than you. But I’m not really happy with you right now, either.”

  “Why’s that?” He set the stack of magazines on the coffee table.

  “Because you confuse me.”

  His hands froze as he slowly straightened.

  Had she just said that aloud? Good gravy, what was it with her mouth lately?

  “How do I confuse you?”

  “Forget it.”

  “No, I want to know.” He laid a hand on her arm.

  Little pulses of heat shot up her arm and tugged against her heart. That she felt that way annoyed her all the more. She jerked her arm from his. “Don’t touch me. I’m tired of people grabbing me.”

  Shadows marched across his features as he dropped his hand. “I didn’t grab you, Felicia.”

  What was wrong with her? Why was she so snappy all of a sudden? “I’m sorry, Spence. I didn’t mean to bite your head off, yes?”

  “Sit down for a minute.” He stared into her eyes and sat on the couch he’d just straightened. “Please.” The softness of his tone nearly unraveled her tenuous hold on her emotions.

  She dropped to the chair.

  “What do you mean I confuse you?”

  “You treat me like I’m special to you, awaken all kinds of feelings in me I thought were dead, then you push me away, only to run to my rescue when you think I’m in trouble. It’s conflicting and confusing.” Oh, she was going for the big score here, baring her emotional train wreck right out in the open.

  “I—I…”

  She held up a hand. “I don’t want anything from you, Spence, but honesty. I’ve had enough lies to fill my lifetime. But I can’t let you play with my emotions, either. I need you to shoot straight with me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  For a moment she stared at him. After everything she’d admitted, all he could offer was an apology? She stood.

  “That’s it? You’re sorry? No, I’m the one who’s sorry. Do me a favor and just stay away from me.”

  He rushed to his feet. “Felicia.”

  “No. Don’t use that soft tone with me. I can’t deal with…this right now.” She spun around, her leg muscles cramping at the sudden movement.

  He was at her side in an instant, holding her elbow and supporting her. So close, his breath fanned her temple. “I care about you, but I shouldn’t.” His words were a caress against her skin.

  Her heartbeat raced. “Why shouldn’t you?”

  She could drown in his eyes, so full of depth and emotion. She laid a hand on his face. Stubble brushed against her palm. “Why shouldn’t you care about me?” She had to know.

  He straightened but kept his hold under her elbow. “Because I don’t deserve you.”

  What? “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say, Spencer Bertrand. You sound like a cooyon.”

  “It’s the truth.” Pain glimmered in his eyes.

  “Why would you think such an absurd thing?”

  He backed away, shaking his head. “Please don’t ask me to explain.”

  Felicia blinked to hold in the tears. “Fine. That’s it. I can’t do this. I want you to leave.” She pointed to the door with a trembling finger. “Now.” If he didn’t leave now, she’d break down. The last thing she wanted was for him to hold her again out of pity.

  He took a step toward her. “Fel—”

  “No.” She pressed her hand against her mouth and shook her head. “Just go. Leave.”

  “I can’t while you’re so upset.”

  “I’m fine. Or, I will be as soon as you go.” Tears burned the back of her eyelids.

  “No, you aren’t.”

  “Spence, please.” Why did her voice have to hitch like that? She sounded desperate. Weak. It infuriated her to no end. Hadn’t she put away her weaknesses and surged on with independence?

  “Okay.” His stare wouldn’t break from hers. The thudding of her heart measured every second. “Would you like me to talk to Luc?”

  “Fine. Tell him I’m hunky-dory and don’t need him, or anyone else for that matter, to run to my rescue.”

  “He’ll want to see you.”

  “I don’t want to see him, you, anybody. Not now.”

  Spence hesitated, then gave a jerky nod before he left the apartment.

  Felicia dropped to the couch, burying her face in her hands. He didn’t want her—said he shouldn’t care about her. What possible reason could anyone have for such nonsense? It had to be an excuse. She was the cooyon. Letting herself think they might be able to have something special. But she’d been wrong.

  Rejection left a bitter taste in her mouth.

  The woman would drive him insane. Spencer paced in the parking lot, waiting for Luc. He couldn’t tell Felicia why he was unworthy of her—she’d never forgive him. He knew it’d be better for her if he did. Then she’d understand it had nothing to do with her, but with him, his past. Still, he couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing her, showing her how unworthy he truly was.

  Father, I sure could use some of Your wisdom in handling this situation. What do You want me to do?

  Luc’s truck rambled into the lot and screeched to a stop. “Where’s Felicia? How is she?” he asked as he made mean strides to the walkway.

  “Madder than a wet hen, right now. I wouldn’t advise barging in.”

  Luc spun and faced him. “What’s going on?”

  “She
was a bit miffed the sheriff called you.”

  “Why? She knows I’d want to help her.”

  Spencer kicked a loose rock from the edge of the sidewalk. “I think that’s the problem.”

  “What?”

  “She’s trying to stake her independence, handle things on her own.”

  “There’s a killer on the loose, and it could very well be Kipp Landry. Didn’t that occur to her?” He shook his head.

  “Do you know she went to the jazz club looking for Sadie? What’s she trying to do?”

  Spencer held up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. They found Kipp and are hauling him in for questioning. I’m just giving you fair warning she’s stewing in there and might snap at you.” He lowered his voice. “She went looking for Sadie?”

  “A friend called and told me she’d been in the club asking for Sadie. She doesn’t get how serious this is.”

  “I can’t believe she’d do something so foolish.” Spencer’s heart hammered. What on this blessed green earth had she been thinking?

  Luc’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you here, anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be at the center?”

  Just what he didn’t need—confession time with her brother. Her very big brother who took protectiveness to a whole new level.

  “I’m sure the sheriff told you Felicia called the center and I called him.”

  “Yeah. And?”

  “Well, I was worried about her.”

  Luc’s eyes narrowed into tiny slits. “Is there something going on I should know about?”

  Spencer fought the urge to squirm under his scrutiny. “Not really.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It just means there are some issues Felicia and I are working out. Privately.” He stood tall, measuring up Luc Trahan.

  A grin spread across Luc’s face. “You like her, don’t you?”

  Spencer’s blood pressure spiked. “I do, but you don’t need to worry about that.”

  “Why not? What’s wrong with my sister?”

  “Not a thing. That’s the problem. She’s too good for me.”

  Luc smiled again. “No argument there, Pastor. She’s too good for most of us. But that won’t matter to her.” He cocked his head. “Is she not interested in you?”

  He so didn’t want to have this discussion, especially with her big brother. “I think she could be, but that’s not the point.”

  “Then what is?”

  A chirping sounded. Luc snatched his cell phone off his belt clip. Spencer let out a long breath. Saved by the phone.

  He took two steps and leaned against the building, affording Luc some privacy while also giving himself a few minutes to think. Should he tell Felicia the truth now, before this thing between them went any further, and let her hate him? Or, should he just walk away from her with no explanation? Which would hurt her the least?

  Telling her the truth.

  But that’d hurt him. He didn’t know if he could stand having her look at him with disappointment or disgust.

  “Look, Mom’s just checked herself into a rehab clinic in Covington. I need to go check on her, but I don’t want to leave Felicia.” Luc’s face was pale.

  “Go check on your mother. I’ll stay here and keep an eye on Felicia. Kipp’s in custody, so he’s no longer a threat.” Like Spencer would leave her alone?

  “I need to tell her about Mom.”

  “Hey, it’s your funeral.”

  Luc strode to Felicia’s door. Spencer trailed, keeping a safe distance. He didn’t want to witness a family argument, but had no other choice but to follow.

  “I don’t need you here,” Felicia said as she opened the door.

  “Are you just trying to put yourself in the line of fire?” Luc’s hands fisted at his side.

  “It’s my business if I do, yes?”

  “You went looking for Sadie! Come on, Boo, you have no business doing that. Let the police do their job.”

  “Jolie was my best friend, Luc. You and I both know from experience that they have to do things a certain way, which sometimes gets in the way of the truth.” Her voice hitched.

  “But you aren’t a detective. You need to let this go.” Luc framed the doorway, invading his sister’s space. “If you keep doing insane things, you’ll have to come back home where you’ll be safe.”

  “I’m not a child, Luc.” Her voice rose an octave.

  “Then stop acting like one!”

  “Just go. Leave me alone.” She slammed the door. The click of a dead bolt echoed across the courtyard.

  Luc shook his head and knocked again. “Open the door. I have something to tell you. About Mom.”

  The wait felt like forever as he leaned against the wall. Spencer’s stomach cramped. He hated confrontations like this. Had seen enough, been through enough, to last a lifetime.

  Luc rapped his knuckles against the door. “C’mon, Felicia. I’m serious.”

  Still no answer.

  He turned from the door and caught sight of Spencer. “She’s probably gone in the back where she can’t hear. Tuning me out.”

  Spencer nodded. What could he say?

  “I need to check on Mom. Will you tell Felicia where we are when she calms down?”

  “Sure.” Great, he’d be the bearer of bad news again.

  “Merci, Pastor.” Luc headed to the parking lot.

  Spencer fell into step alongside him. “I’ll be praying for your mother.” He patted Luc’s shoulder.

  “I appreciate that. Tell Felicia I’ll call her after I’ve seen about Mom.”

  Luc peeled out of the parking lot, tossing loose gravel onto the sidewalk. Spencer headed to Felicia’s apartment. Maybe she’d cooled off some by now. He hoped so. He felt a little like Daniel being tossed into the lions’ den.

  Wrapped up in his thoughts, he clipped a person with his shoulder. Glancing up, Spencer stared into the face of a tired-looking young woman. “Excuse me,” he muttered.

  “Same,” she replied, continuing her trek down the walkway.

  Something about her voice sounded familiar to him. What was it? He glanced over his shoulder. She wasn’t a member of his congregation, that much he knew. Had she visited, perhaps?

  Felicia’s door swung open, and she stepped onto the sidewalk, her cane in her right hand and a yard-size trash bag in the other. She dropped the bag when her eyes lit on him. “What’re you still doing here?”

  “I talked to Luc.”

  She peered over his shoulder. “Is he making plans to come in and scoop me back home? Didn’t you tell him the sheriff has Kipp?”

  Obviously not enough time had passed to cool her ire.

  “Uh, Felicia, I need to tell you something.”

  Anger scurried from her eyes. “What’s wrong?” She leaned against the door frame.

  “Luc received a call. Your mother’s checked herself into a rehab clinic.”

  “What?” The cane tumbled to the concrete. “Where? When?”

  Spencer slowly handed her cane back to her, careful not to be obvious in taking care of her. “All I know is she’s at a place in Covington, and Luc said he’d call you once he checked in on her.”

  Her blue eyes shimmered with tears. “It’s all my fault. Luc warned me she’d begun drinking again after I moved back here, but I didn’t listen.” She shook her head. “No, I had to be Ms. Independence and think only of myself. Selfish, selfish, selfish.” Her last words were barely audible.

  He couldn’t take her beating herself up. Reaction and instinct kicked in. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and drew her into the curve of his arm. Her entire body trembled. He planted a kiss on her temple, ignoring the little voice in his head warning him to keep his distance.

  But as she clung to him tighter than ever before, Spencer had a sneaking suspicion his heart would drown out the alarms.

  NINE

  Wasn’t there a rule somewhere in the universe that mornings were milder, calmer
in the South? Wasn’t that why people referred to New Orleans as the Big Easy? If no such rule existed, it should.

  Unfortunately, Felicia had a morning as dense as the lily pads on the bayou. Physical therapy had been a cakewalk compared to the visit with her mother. The lamenting, the crying, the theatrics, not to mention the free guilt trip…all wore Felicia slap out. Yet she still had another stop to make.

  Two Mardi Gras masks covered the entryway into the sheriff’s office. She yanked the door open with a weight in her heart despite the revelry of the decorations. After asking the dispatcher, Missy, to see the sheriff and being told to have a seat, Felicia checked her cell phone again—no missed calls. Why hadn’t Sheriff Theriot called last night and given an update on Kipp?

  And why hadn’t she heard from Spence?

  No, she wouldn’t wonder about that. He’d made his intentions, or lack thereof, very clear. She’d remove him from her mind, once and for all.

  Shame her heart wouldn’t comply.

  The door whisked open, pulling in the nippy February air. A deputy led a handcuffed man through the swinging door. Felicia scowled as they disappeared around the corner. But once she’d realized what she’d done, a chill deeper than the temperature settled in the pit of her stomach. Had she really become so hardened against criminals that she couldn’t comprehend forgiveness? The thought made her shudder. She’d have to work on letting go of such animosity.

  “Felicia.”

  She snapped up her head and struggled to stand. “Sheriff Theriot.”

  “What can I help you with?”

  “Kipp Landry? Jolie’s murder?”

  He let out a weary sigh and opened the swinging door.

  “Allons back to my office.”

  She exerted care with each heavy step until she dropped into a chair in his office. “You said you’d call me. About Kipp.”

  The sheriff sat behind his desk, the wooden chair legs creaking against the weight. “We have two options here, Felicia. One, release him and put a tail on him. See if he leads us to these loan sharks. Or two, keep him here with the extortion charge and maybe never learn who killed Jolie.”