Between Dusk and Dawn

by Lynn Emery

  “A few adults into the occult would show up, too. Some would try to get my grandmother to take part in silly rituals. Maybe those two were part of a group like that,” LaShaun offered.

  “If so, something went seriously wrong with their little ghost and goblins party,” Chase added. “I’ll check out the occult angle in the background check on the victims. The woman is from New Iberia.”

  “Ask the guy,” LaShaun replied and looked at them with her head to one side. “You said he wasn’t hurt that bad.”

  Chase looked at M.J. before answering. “He’s not making a whole lot of sense.”

  M.J. let out a long breath. “He’s hurt, and running a fever of some sort. Maybe he’s got an infection.”

  “Okay, then wait until he gets better. I’m sure you two sharp officers of the law are all over this latest case. So since I don’t know anything I’m going home.” LaShaun did not move despite her words. She knew there was more, but she couldn’t get a clear picture or message. “Right after you tell me whatever it is that has you sending out these weird vibes.”

  “He’s hallucinating; at least that’s what the doctor calls it. Though he’s not sure how else to describe it. This guy is talking about running through the woods, feeling free like he’s never felt before, and... mating with as many females as he wants.” M.J. looked at Chase, sighed and then gazed at LaShaun again.

  “Sounds like he’s living every guy’s fantasy,” LaShaun retorted and laughed. M.J. and Chase didn’t get the joke. “And?”

  Chase pulled a couple of crime scene photos from M.J.’s desk and handed them to LaShaun. “Take a look at these. It’s a long shot, but maybe you’ll recognize one of them. These aren’t the worse of the pictures, but this is after we could move them enough so their faces were visible.”

  The first one was of the woman. Dirt and deep scratches covered her face. Her matted hair had dried blood with leaves sticking to it. Then Chase showed her a picture of the man. He had so much filth and grim on him LaShaun wondered if his own mother would have known him. She handed the photos back.

  “The man’s got two deep cuts on his left leg. The wounds are getting worse, and the doctors aren’t sure why,” Chase added.

  “And he keeps talking about the woods, specifically the woods around the powerful cemetery. And he keeps mumbling ‘the Rousselle might be a problem,’” M.J. said and held up another shot of the man with his leg stretched out.

  LaShaun gripped the arms of the chair. Heat moved through her body, her scalped tingled, and she heard a buzzing sound. The room seemed to sway a little as though the floor moved. She gulped in air to fight off the feeling of being smothered. When she closed her eyes images, blurred but colorful, flashed on her eyelids like a movie screen. An upright thing with hair growled. Spit dripped from its mouth as he hovered over her. Then there was darkness.

  Chapter 6

  “I could have driven home just fine. This is silly. Now I have to go back and get my car.”

  LaShaun gazed out at the landscape whizzing by as Chase drove her home. Sunshine and blue skies meant that they should have been enjoying the day. Instead LaShaun could only smell the musky odor of an animal she didn’t want to know existed, and Chase wore a grim expression. It was two o’clock in the afternoon and LaShaun hadn’t had lunch. Yet food was the last thing on her mind.

  “I should have warned about that picture of the guy’s leg,” Chase said.

  “I didn’t pass out. I just got light-headed. I didn’t eat much for breakfast. When M.J. called me over to the station I ended up missing lunch. I don’t know. Maybe I’ve got some kind of vitamin deficiency.” LaShaun heard her own voice, realized she was rambling and pressed her lips closed.

  “I still think we should go to the urgent care clinic at the hospital,” Chase reminded her.

  “I’m fine. I’ll go to the doctor later if I still feel weak,” LaShaun replied sharply. “I’m not going to the hospital.”

  “Could it be you didn’t want to be at the hospital where that man we found in the woods is being treated?” Chase spoke in a measured tone, like a policeman conducting an interview.

  “No,” LaShaun said with too much force. Even she heard the note of hysteria in that one word. She breathed in and out slowly, then turned to him forcing a smile she didn’t feel. “Going to the hospital is a bit over the top for a little dizzy spell.”

  “Okay.” Chase glanced at her briefly then back at the road ahead.

  He turned onto Rougon Road, drove the two miles to Rousselle Lane and turned again. Another half mile down the private road led to the turn onto LaShaun’s gravel driveway. Twin oak trees stood on either side with the large mail box sitting on a brick base to the left. Chase stopped without being asked, got out and retrieved a stack of envelopes for her. He got back into his truck and drove around to her back door. Both were silent as LaShaun got out and opened the locks. Chase paused as he passed the alarm controls.

  “You should always set this when you leave home, and at night.” He tapped the cream colored box attached to the wall for emphasis.

  “Nothing bad was in the air so I didn’t bother.”

  LaShaun sucked in a breath as though trying to recall the words. She didn’t need to remind Chase that she was different. Once they were in the kitchen she tossed her keys and bag on the counter and faced him. Before she could thank him for bringing her home and tell him goodbye, Chase pulled her into his arms. His kiss was searching, as though he needed an answer from her. LaShaun didn’t pull away. When he cupped her face with one strong hand LaShaun shivered with the effort to not let go. His tongue pushed through her partially opened lips, insisting. He tightened his embrace. Surrender seemed her only option as desire took hold of every nerve ending in her body. As she kissed him back, Chase let out a low groan in the back of his throat. He guided them backwards to her bedroom. In minutes they were undressed and making love slowly, deliberately. Chase seemed determined to see and feel every moment, every movement. His dark gaze drove LaShaun to the brink of ecstasy three times, but he’d slow down and kiss her shoulders and neck. All the while he looked at her. Love folded around LaShaun, the unmistakable message that what he had for her transcended sex. Her world exploded into pure joy as she allowed him to rock her entire being, physically and emotionally. When he came, Chase whispered her name over and over as she held onto him.

  They lay quiet, wrapped around each other for a full hour, drifting in and out of a light sleep. LaShaun watched the trees and leaves through the bedroom window dance in a gentle cool breeze. Chase smoothed a thick lock of hair from her forehead and kissed it gently.

  “You aren’t going to scare me away, you know. I’m tougher than any old Rousselle family curse, crazy voodoo demons and all,” Chase said and laughed softly.

  LaShaun looked into his eyes. “You deserve to be elected Sheriff.”

  “I would do a damn good job of it, too. But...”

  “Don’t give up what you want. Not for me.”

  “Listen, the election has to be postponed. The parish clerk hasn’t announced it yet. The Department of Justice didn’t get the legislature’s new apportionment plan in time for review.” Chase continued to stroked LaShaun’s hair.

  “What?” LaShaun sat up and stared at him.

  “Because of population changes after Hurricane Katrina, Louisiana’s political district lines had to be re-drawn. The U.S. Department of Justice had to approve any plans to assure no groups might lose representation in elections. Somebody made a mistake, either in the state or on the federal side. The bottom line is they approved the plan, but not in time for us to have the election in November. It’s put off until April.” Chase shrugged at the look she gave him. “It’ll be in the papers tomorrow and on the news.”

  “So you’ll have more time to campaign. Maybe we can get this mess cleaned up, and disarm Reverend Fletcher.” LaShaun frowned as she mentally calculated how this development might help Chase.

  “Small town
politics again. I think they’d like for anyone but me to run. Dave is busy reminding everyone he’s a real ‘family values’ guy.” He laughed at the frown LaShaun put on at the mention of his only opponent.

  “Dave Goudchaux has been bad mouthing you and M.J. And M.J. is way too tolerant with him if you ask me.” LaShaun hissed at the thought of the big beefy ex-LSU football star.

  “Dave’s okay. A little sanctimonious, but he’s okay.” Chase sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

  “Don’t tell me. He’s joined Reverend Fletcher’s church, and only to get more votes I’ll bet.” LaShaun gave a snort of contempt. She got out of bed and followed Chase into the bathroom.

  “He didn’t join, at least as far as I know.”

  Chase turned on the water and entered the walk in shower and gestured to LaShaun. They stopped talking. Between kisses they soaped each other’s bodies then stood under the warm rainfall shower head to rinse off. Stepping out into the steamy bathroom they dried off with clean fluffy towels. After another ten minutes both were dressed again. They went to the kitchen, and Chase turned on the television. LaShaun, barefoot and in a comfy old T-shirt over jeans, fixed them both a sliced turkey sandwich on thick French bread. They sat at the long counter on the stools as they ate.

  “I’m surprised your phone hasn’t been blowing up with all the craziness going on,” she said.

  “Speaking of which, you want to tell me what’s really going on?” Chase asked and put down his sandwich.

  “What’s going on?” LaShaun echoed and concentrated on taking a slow sip of lemonade.

  Chase wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. “We’ve got some challenges in our relationship, the politics of election for one. Then there’s my family wanting to meet you, and you’re not too thrilled about it. Not to mention town tongues wagging about every little thing we do as a couple. Right?”

  “Yeah.” LaShaun cleared her throat and decided she needed more lemonade. When Chase crossed his arms to wait she lowered her glass.

  “So if we’re going to make it, we have to stick together. That means straight talk. No keeping stuff from each other, even if we think it’s to protect the other person.” Chase waited again.

  LaShaun pushed away the plate with her half eaten sandwich on it. She heaved a sigh. “Okay. Right. Just don’t get upset.”

  “All right.”

  “Then two nights ago I couldn’t sleep.” She sighed when Chase’s eyebrows went up. “Being psychic must be contagious, “she muttered.

  “Go on.” He didn’t relax his serious listening pose.

  “I woke up feeling like something wasn’t quite right. That happens sometimes when I’m asleep and my extra sense goes on alert. It’s just like a tingling or a sudden jab in my chest. It’s hard to describe, and I’ve never really explained it to anyone.”

  Chase sat forward with both elbows on the table. “Thanks for sharing part of you with me. So you came awake, then what?”

  “I knew nothing was wrong inside the house, but there was something outside. So I got my knife and went out to the backyard.”

  “You did what? In pitch black night with no help? LaShaun.”

  “I knew you were going to freak out and go all Mr. Protection on me.” LaShaun squinted at him. “I really can handle myself, and I always use good sense.”

  “Sorry, you’re right. We’ve got to trust each other, too; even more than most other couples.” Chase relaxed his disapproving frown. “So you went outside.”

  “So I went to the backyard and I saw the outline of some kind of animal moving in the woods. You know how when it’s dark, but you see something that looks denser than the darkness around it, then it moves?”

  “Yeah, I know exactly what you mean.” Chase now listened intently. All judgment seemed wiped away by his interest in her observations. The investigator honed in on every detail.

  “Right, I knew something was in the woods. I took the knife, and trust me I know how to use it. But then I didn’t feel any kind of threat or malevolence from that figure. In fact I could almost hear it calling out for help, a desperate plea to understand what was happening. I know that sounds nuts.” LaShaun shook her head.

  “I have faith in that sixth sense of yours.” Chase rested a large hand on her thigh.

  Encouraged, LaShaun went on. “About the time I was going closer to try and offer some kind of comfort, or figure out how to help, things changed. I got a wave of alarm from the person, or animal. I don’t know which it was, but it was warning me. I was concentrating on her so hard I must have missed the signals. I hardly had time to register the direction of the danger when something pounced on me.”

  “The only reason why I’m not freaking out right now is because you’re obviously all in one piece,” Chase said in a measured tone. Still he gripped her leg.

  She smiled, put her hand on his, and leaned closer to him. “You just examined me from head to toe, so you know all my parts are working.”

  Chase let out a slow breath as though remembering her touch, then nodded. “Tell me what happened. Was it a man?”

  “I’m not sure.” LaShaun stopped smiling and frowned at what the possible right answer could be. “At the time it seemed to be upright with arms and legs, but I don’t know. It had a funky gamey smell. Like a sweaty animal, or damp fur. I haven’t been hunting in years, not since I was a kid. But that’s the best way I can describe it.”

  “You used to hunt?” Chase looked surprised.

  “Sure, my grandmother and Uncle Robert taught me to handle a hunting rifle. Monmon Odette bought a small one just for me. We didn’t hunt for fun. Monmon would give the meat to some poor families around that she knew. I use a bow and arrow, too.” LaShaun nodded as his eyes went wider.

  “We’ll talk hunting later, right now tell me about being attacked,” Chase said leaning forward even more.

  “Something jumped on me, pushed me flat on the ground. I should have been paying closer attention to my surroundings, but when I had the feeling that someone was in trouble I got distracted. I managed to get hold of the knife and was able to fight back. I just remember slashing for all I was worth. Whatever or whoever it was let out a howl of pain and ran off. I went back inside fast and locked the door. But there was no more danger.”

  “You should have called me,” Chase said calmly. He rubbed his jaw as though thinking about her account.

  “They were gone, both of them. I also knew they wouldn’t be too eager to come back for more. I don’t play.” LaShaun chuckled, and then heaved a sigh when Chase glanced at her sternly.

  “Let’s see the knife,” he said.

  She went to her bedroom, found it in her nightstand and came back. When LaShaun pulled it from the soft leather sheath Chase let out a low whistle. He stood up and took it from her. The knife’s blade was pure silver and thirteen and a half inches long with a ruby red bone handle. Chase turned it over in his hands in frank admiration. He gripped it combat style.

  “You cut somebody with this thing, hell yes he’s gonna run. I’m surprised. This is silver, but it doesn’t feel heavy. How old is it?” Chase looked at LaShaun with a new appreciation in his dark Cajun eyes.

  “My grandfather inherited it from his father. His great-grandfather got it from his father. The story handed down says it was originally made by a great Mayan warrior in Belize. This warrior was favored by the gods, and the knife is magical.”

  “Right,” Chase said drawing the word out.

  “I’m telling you the family legend,” LaShaun shot back and grinned at him. “The warrior fought off the Spanish in a terrible battle. He killed his enemy and brought victory to his people against great odds; or something like that. How my ancestors ended up with it is a bit of a mystery. You know the story of a group of slaves who left Louisiana, moved to Central America and eventually settled in South America?”

  “No, but I want to hear it one day, and more Rousselle family stories.” Chase continued to slice the air
with knife.

  “Deal,” she grinned, then grew serious. “However we got it, one tale is consistent; the knife is magical and can defeat supernatural beings.”

  “I’m going to borrow this beauty if I have to arrest a demon,” Chase said. He moved away from her across the large kitchen and pivoted, gracefully making offensive moves like a soldier in combat. He stopped and walked back to her. “Whoever you cut is gotta be hurt bad.”

  LaShaun accepted the knife from him. “Exactly.”

  Chase stood with one hand on his slender waist. “What?”

  “That male victim in the hospital has deep cuts on his leg. I slashed low and hard, to cause pain and disable whatever jumped me.” LaShaun watched his expression go from confused to skeptical.

  “Oh c’mon, babe.” Chase pulled a hand over his face.

  “You should check to see if his wound matches the shape of my knife,” LaShaun said quietly. She looked down at the silver blade. “And if it does...”

  Chase stared at her knife. “Damn.”

  Chapter 7

  Two days later LaShaun drove to Vermillion Hospital. She had a mixture of wanting to go there, and wanting badly to stay away. The fact that her grandmother had died there brought back sad memories, but that wasn’t the strongest aversion she had to it. The closer she got to the innocuous looking tan brick building, the more her stomach roiled. She’d even had to stop at small park downtown and breathe deeply to get over the queasy sensation. With the silver cross from Monmon Odette’s prized rosary beads clutched in a fist, LaShaun closed her eyes and whispered a prayer. A male voice startled her.

  “You alright, ma’am?”

  LaShaun opened her eyes to see a teenage boy standing on the passenger side of her Honda CRV. He peered through the open window with a slight frown. Before she could answer a boy standing with two other teens called out.

  “Dude, you’re messing with the local voodoo queen. You best get your butt outta there before she puts something on you,” a scruffy looking blonde kid called and let out a brash guffaw. The two girls with him giggled at his antics.