Bayou Judgment

by Robin Caroll

  “He hasn’t given up their names?”

  “Nope. Says he’s too scared.”

  “Can’t you make him tell you?”

  “You know as well as I do that you can’t make somebody cough up a name if they don’t want to.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and glared. “You seemed to do quite well when you were intimidating my brother, yes?”

  His face flushed. “C’mon, Felicia. I was just doing my job. Luc understands that.”

  She knew it, too. “Why didn’t you call and tell me this?”

  He squirmed and avoided eye contact.

  “You called Luc again, didn’t you?”

  “Look, I know Kipp scared you and all, but I really think we have a better chance to get to the truth by letting him out and following him.”

  “He didn’t scare me. He made me furious.” She stomped to her feet. “So you confided in Luc to get him to urge me not to press charges against Kipp for his extortion.”

  He stood. “We’re running out of clues on the case, Felicia. I’ll use whatever I have in order to get a break.”

  “Including me?”

  “I don’t think you’re in any danger.”

  The image of Kipp’s enraged face blipped across her mental radar. The sheriff might not be right on that danger issue. “Have you considered Kipp could’ve killed Jolie? People do murder their kin.” Like Grandfather’s killer.

  “We did. His alibi for the time of death holds.”

  “What alibi?”

  “He was at the casino, at the blackjack table. The manager verified that.”

  “Who could be involved with the loan sharks and lying for him, yes? The involvement of the casino in my grandfather’s case proved the unreliability of those people.”

  Sheriff Theriot shook his head. “Security tapes don’t lie.”

  Figured he’d have a thick-as-Spanish-moss alibi. “What about Sadie Thompson? Our neighbor heard yelling and identified Sadie at the scene of the crime.”

  “She’s been cleared because the timing isn’t right. And, she has an alibi.” He scowled. “I understand you went looking for Sadie. You’re bordering on interfering in a police investigation, Felicia.”

  “There’s no law that says I can’t talk to people, yes?” She blew off the implied warning, opting to appeal to his emotions instead. “Jolie was my best friend, Sheriff. Our neighbor saw Sadie and heard her yelling at Jolie.”

  “The time of death was after Sadie left. The coroner confirmed it.”

  “She could be lying about when she left. Sadie’s not exactly the most trustworthy person in Lagniappe, you know.”

  He gave her a soft smile. “Don’t you think we verified her alibi?”

  “But is the verifier honest?”

  “I’d say the preacher of our church is pretty honest.”

  Felicia snorted. “Our preacher? Sadie was with our preacher? Whatever for?”

  “I’m not at liberty to say.”

  “Just because someone’s a preacher doesn’t make them righteous.” Or above playing with someone’s emotions. Felicia pressed her lips together, shoving out Spence’s image.

  “Good point.” The sheriff sighed. “Look, we’re checking out every lead we have. But right now, my gut tells me to go with following Kipp and see where it goes.”

  “What about Wesley? Is he still a suspect in your book?”

  “Right now, we’re focusing our efforts on Kipp, but we’ll consider all evidence.”

  Would justice ever be served for Jolie? And what about Luc? Would letting Kipp walk make her brother demand she move back home, especially with all that was happening with their mother?

  “I really wish you hadn’t called Luc, Bubba.”

  Sheepishness darkened his face, despite the glow his red hair cast from the overhead lights. “I didn’t get to talk to him, if that helps any. I left a message on his voice mail.”

  Maybe she had a shot at keeping her independence. “What’d you say on the message?”

  “Just that I wanted his opinion on the extortion charges.”

  Yes! “When he calls back, you can just tell him the situation’s been handled.”

  “Has it?” He arched a brow.

  She let out a sigh. Either take a chance on solving Jolie’s murder and silencing Luc’s threat to move her back home or stand on principle and risk having the goals she’d worked so hard to attain ripped out from under her. What a choice. “Yes. I won’t press the extortion charges.”

  Lord, did You have to make her so beautiful from the inside out?

  Spencer stared across the center, his focus on Felicia in spite of himself. His eyes had a mind of their own.

  But I tell You that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart.

  Did that Scripture apply if he wasn’t married? Wait a minute, he didn’t feel lust for her. He felt affection for her, yes, but not lust. So that Scripture didn’t apply at all.

  How about “If your right eye causes you to sin, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into hell”? Was his focus on Felicia and not the case causing him to sin? Should he be focusing more on protecting the center?

  Nothing but silence answered him.

  Felicia waved, her arm flailing. He rushed to her station.

  “I’m sorry, Winnie, but we had to notify the police of your calls. I’m sure you have no intention on acting violently toward your ex, but we have a moral obligation to report your comments.” Felicia wrapped the cord around her pointer finger.

  Spencer grabbed the secondary headset and plugged into the call.

  “Can’t believe you’d stoop so low. This is what I get for calling a Christian hotline. And I thought we could be friends.”

  “No matter what kind of hotline you called, the operator is still obligated to report such threats.”

  “I don’t believe you. It’s only because you’re part of those do-gooders.”

  Spencer activated the microphone on his headset. “Winnie, this is Pastor Bertrand and—”

  “She switched my call to you? I don’t believe that piece of…”

  The disconnection popped, as if she’d slammed the phone down. Spencer tossed the headset onto the desk while Felicia dropped her head. “She’s right. We don’t normally report such things to the police.”

  Spencer tucked a knuckle under her chin and lifted her face to his. “That was before Jolie was murdered. We have to put safeguards in place. Don’t you feel guilty over this, Felicia.”

  She jerked away from his touch. “That woman has nothing to do with Jolie’s murder.”

  “No, but it’s made me realize I need to tighten procedures around here.” His heart raced as she met his stare. “To protect y’all.”

  “But word will get out on the street that we’re snitches, and nobody will call in. How can we help them then?”

  “We have to trust that God will send the people here who need us. Who we can help.”

  He met her gaze.

  Big mistake.

  Longing for what could be shoved the air from his lungs.

  She nodded. “I know you’re right, but it’s discouraging. For the callers, I mean.”

  He could detect the disappointment hovering in her tone. Just about the center, or was there more?

  A sinking feeling sat in the pit of his gut. After Frank had been killed, she’d kept everyone at arm’s length, not willing to take the chance to be hurt again. He’d watched her rebuild her life on her own terms. Now she looked at him with something else. Something beyond the friendship they’d forged.

  He met her inquiring stare, the one that pinned him to the spot. Waiting for him to say something. “God will work through us, regardless of the guidelines we work within.”

  She let out a soft sigh. Obviously not the response she’d been looking for. “I—”

  Her phone rang. She g
ave him a half smile and lifted the receiver.

  He couldn’t resist squeezing her shoulder before trudging back to his office. The need to put his face to the floor pulled his steps faster. The time had come to do some real seeking from the Father.

  TEN

  A smile tickled Felicia’s lips when she passed through the curtain of metallic gold and purple and entered the center. Signs decorated the door, announcing the upcoming Mardi Gras Masquerade Ball. A Lagniappe tradition.

  She stowed her belongings and slid into her station. Tonight would be a good night. She’d help people, pray with and for them and her spirit would be one of tranquility.

  “You look happy.”

  Felicia twisted to find Spence hovering behind her chair. Her heart did a funny flip, but she sternly ordered it to stay still. She would respect his wishes to just be friends. After all, wasn’t that better than nothing? Now that she had no more smoldering ties to the past, she’d allow herself to live fully again.

  Even if it wasn’t with the man who’d already slipped under her exterior.

  Regret pushed away, Felicia smiled. “I am.”

  He brushed at his jeans. “Uh, the city events planner came by today and posted the signs for the ball.”

  “I noticed. Looks like it’s going to be another fun time this year. Luc’s band will play.” And maybe Sadie would show up. Felicia could possibly strike up a conversation, see where it led. There had to be some reason Sadie had shown up at the apartment, and Felicia was determined to find out what that reason was. Sure, the sheriff said Sadie had an alibi, but the question still burning in Felicia’s mind was why Sadie had shown up, yelling, in the first place.

  “Yeah, that’s what the planner said. She’s encouraging everybody to attend.”

  “You’ve gone in years past. Aren’t you planning on going this year?” She certainly wouldn’t miss the ball. It was the event of the year in south Louisiana. Of course, Frank had been her escort last year. She suppressed the thought. No more sadness hiding in the dark recesses of her heart. God would grant her contentment if she focused on Him.

  “I’d like to.”

  She quirked a single brow. “But?”

  “I don’t want to go alone.”

  “Don’t be silly. There’ll be tons of people you know. I bet your entire congregation will attend.”

  “Exactly.” His brow creased.

  What was going on with him? He acted odd, very odd. Maybe because of the tension between them? She should pull up her big-girl pants and bite the bullet. Let him know it was okay for him to not want to pursue a relationship with her.

  “Spence, I don—”

  “Felicia, will you go to the ball with me?”

  Her unspoken words turned foreign on her tongue. Her jaw dropped. Mercy, had he just asked her to be his date? Hope fluttered in her chest.

  Uncertainty danced in his beautiful eyes. “I know I’ve been giving you mixed signals. I’m sorry. I spent a lot of time in prayer last night and today and I’d rea—”

  “Yes.” Her heart hammered her ribs. So the Holy Spirit had grappled with Spence too. How ironic. No, how God.

  He blinked. “What?”

  “Yes, I’ll go to the ball with you.”

  “I’m glad.” His smile brightened the entire center.

  “Felicia, there’s something I need to te—”

  Sheriff Theriot’s grand entrance interrupted Spence. The creaking of his service belt marked the lawman’s quick stride, and his eyes were narrowed behind the lenses of his glasses. Something had clearly unsettled the man. “Pastor Bertrand, I need to have a word with you.”

  “Is there a problem, Sheriff?”

  Felicia stood, putting every inch into her height. Had they found Jolie’s killer? Had they found a link to the center and come to close it down?

  “Why didn’t you tell us about your past?” The sheriff rested his hands on his holsters.

  Spence’s Adam’s apple bobbed. His eyes darted about the center. Every operator bolted into some activity, as if they weren’t listening. For once, the phones sat silent.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you’d been in prison for assault?”

  Spencer kept his gaze on Felicia’s face, which had turned a most interesting shade of ashen. Her eyes widened and a range of raw emotion shimmered in their Caribbean-blue depths.

  Pain. Disappointment. Betrayal.

  Spencer’s heart plummeted. His worst fear had been realized.

  “Pastor?” The sheriff drummed his fingers against his leather holster.

  “Why don’t we go into my office?”

  “Wh-why, indeed?” Felicia stammered. Big tears found their way down her cheeks. “Don’t let me stop you.” She snatched up her cane, drew her purse strap over her shoulder and slammed the chair under the desk. “I believe I’m taking the night off, Pastor.”

  “Felicia, wait.” He grabbed a gentle hold on her arm.

  She jerked herself free of his grasp, piercing him with a glare of pure ice. “Don’t. Just don’t.” Pain shot through his veins from her cold response. “I think you have an important conversation waiting on you.”

  Without another word, she stalked to the door.

  Look back, please look back.

  But she didn’t. Not even a glance over her shoulder as she stormed from the center.

  A good amount of self-loathing joined the dose Felicia had already given him. He ached to run after her.

  “Pastor?”

  Alas, he’d have to find her later and try to defend his past. For now, he’d have to explain to the sheriff. Then the operators. And he’d have to call the church elders and tell them. More than likely, his congregation would call for his replacement.

  He could almost hear the rumble as his carefully constructed life crashed down on his shoulders.

  He was helpless to stop the destruction.

  What a cooyon she was!

  How could he? Encouraging her to forgive the person who murdered Frank, to give men in prison the benefit of the doubt—yeah, she understood perfectly now. Setting her up.

  Fat tears marred Felicia’s vision as she punched in the speed-dial number for her driver. Just when she’d made strides to reconsider her animosity toward criminals, now she found out the one man who’d hit her soft part was one. And for a violent crime, too!

  She leaned against the rough exterior of the center. The Mardi Gras decorations fluttered in the late February breeze. The moon danced across the sky, as if it hadn’t a care in the world.

  Lucky moon.

  After snapping out her request to the driver and closing the phone, Felicia glowered at the announcement of the ball mocking her from the adjacent storefront. With a renewed resentment, she marched across the walkway and snatched the notice from the window, crumbling the paper into a tight wad.

  How did a preacher go to prison? Especially for assault. The mere concept boggled her mind.

  The wind, swirling like black ink in murky water, lifted the hair from her nape. She shivered.

  Forgive and act; deal with each man according to all he does, since you know his heart (for you alone know the hearts of all men).

  Where’d that Scripture come from? Felicia rested her head against the wall. What did it mean? Was the Holy Spirit leading her somewhere?

  The driver pulled to the curb, jumped out and held open the back door. “Everything okay, Ms. Felicia?”

  No, nothing was okay, and she didn’t know if it’d ever be okay again. This was all too much to take. She needed inner peace, spiritual peace. Slipping into the leather seat, she stared at her driver. “Can you take me to church?”

  “Lagniappe Community?”

  Her church, the one she and Luc had attended with Grandfather for as long as she could remember. But today, her spirit yearned for something different, a change. She shook her head. “No, I’d like to go to Vermilion Parish Fellowship.”

  Spence’s church. How fitting.

  The driver
flashed her a confused look before shutting the door, but didn’t argue. Felicia leaned back against the cool leather. This could be a trip in vain. If Spence was at the center, chances were there was no one at the church. Being so small, it might even be locked up. Still, something inside led her to Spence’s church.

  Her cell phone chirped. She glanced at the caller ID. Luc. Great. Just what she didn’t need right now. She pressed the button to send the call directly to voice mail and glanced out the window.

  Even though the grounds were outside the city limits of Lagniappe, the drive to the small community church took less than twenty minutes. But as her anger started to dim, twenty minutes was time enough for Felicia to struggle with the concept of having judged Spence. Without facts, without explanation.

  Nestled in the bayou with cypress trees coated in Spanish moss providing a natural archway, the building had seen its share of elements. Paint cracked and peeled. The concrete steps were weathered and split. The planks creaked as Felicia made her way to the entrance, and a lone glass pane adorned the unlocked white door.

  Wind shoved against her as Felicia yanked on the door, and dry leaves followed her inside to dance over the trodden wood floor of the foyer.

  She hesitated, her heart pounding, and let her eyes adjust to the darkness. A long red carpet led the way to the front, splitting the rows of pews in half. The altar held four lit candles. Flames flickered in the breeze. Felicia eased to the front row and took a seat.

  Wind howled outside, causing the stained-glass windows to tremble. Felicia wrapped her arms around her middle and rocked. Had she become so cynical, so judgmental that she was as harsh as a cold winter wind? Without attention to her legs, she knelt at the altar.

  Time stood still as she conversed with God. Leaning on Him, listening to Him minister to her heart.

  The back door to the church opened with a crash.

  Felicia started and tried to jump to her feet. Her leg muscles locked and she swayed.

  Spence was there in an instant, steadying her. “Whoa. Let’s get you sitting down.” He led her to the pew and sat beside her.

  “How’d you know where I was?”