She could not see his frown, but a hint of it was in his tone.
“I’m afraid Bayou Village doesn’t offer much in the way of entertainment possibilities, so I can’t take you to dinner or the theatre. The only place I know about is the Bayou Tavern in the village, and that’s hardly a place that would appeal to you.”
Lindsay laughed. “Try me and see!” she invited.
“Then will you have dinner with me there?” he asked, obviously not at all sure that she would.
“I’d love it,” she assured him.
He seemed startled. “You would?”
“Of course.” Lindsay laughed. “It’s fourteen miles and a ferry trip to the nearest town, and it offers very little any better than the Bayou Tavern. Remember, I’ve lived here for years, and I went to school with some of the people we’re sure to see there. I don’t know what kind of a place it is, but I do know that unless it was at least mildly respectable, it wouldn’t be allowed in the village. As you probably know, the village is Aunt Jennifer’s pet toy. She’s the reigning despot, and what she says goes—or else!”
“I see,” said Dr. Corbett. “Tomorrow night I will be on duty while Dr. Potter takes a well-earned night off. But the following night, Friday, how about a mad, mad evening out at the Bayou Tavern?”
Lindsay laughed. “Sounds like great fun! About seven? I have to get Aunt Jennifer bedded down before I can leave, you know.”
“Seven it is on Friday evening, and I shall be looking forward to it!” said Dr. Corbett.
“So will I,” Lindsay assured him, and there was a breathless moment as they stood there in the darkness at the top of the shallow steps when she thought he meant to kiss her. But the next moment he had apparently thought better of the impulse, and with a friendly “good night,” tossed over his shoulder, was going down the steps and out to his car. A moment later he had driven away.
Chapter Four
Lindsay had braced herself for an argument, at the very least, when she told Miss Jennifer about her date with Dr. Corbett for Friday night. But, she reminded herself, she should long ago have taught herself that Miss Jennifer could always be counted on to do the unexpected.
She studied Lindsay with shrewd old eyes and said grimly, “So you are determined to make a fool of yourself over this Corbett. Well, that’s your business. I’m sure nothing I could say to you would change your mind.”
“I’m afraid it couldn’t, Aunt Jennifer,” Lindsay agreed cheerfully. “You don’t object to my having dinner at the Tavern?”
“Why should I? And would you pay any attention to me if I did object?” the old woman growled.
“I’m afraid I wouldn’t, Aunt Jennifer.”
“Then if I had any objections, I’d save my breath.” Miss Jennifer was momentarily thoughtful, and then she added briskly, “Matter of fact, I’d like you to go there and bring me a report on what’s going on. See Peter Holcomb while you are there, and tell him I expect a complete report from him on the first of the month. And it had better be an accurate, honest report, or he’ll find himself out of the Tavern management, and I’ll put in somebody else that I can trust!”
“I’ll tell him if I see him,” Lindsay promised.
“If you see him? Are you out of your mind, girl? The man runs the place, and of course he’ll come to your table and introduce himself.”
“Then I’ll give him your message,” Lindsay replied.
“Try to keep your eyes and ears open and see if you can find out what the shrimp boats are bringing in and how the other fishermen are doing,” Miss Jennifer ordered.
“Aunt Jennifer, I’m going there for dinner with Dr. Corbett; not as your spy,” Lindsay answered, stung by the old woman’s tone.
“I’m not asking you to spy, you silly girl! I’m only asking you to remember what you see and tell me when you get back,” snapped Miss Jennifer.
“That much I will promise,” Lindsay agreed.
“Oh, there’s something else. It’s about that wheel chair. I’ve decided I don’t want it.”
“But, Aunt Jennifer—”
“No buts about it I’ve changed my mind,” Miss Jennifer said shortly.
“But you thought it would be fun,” Lindsay protested.
“You thought it would be, heaving me in and out of bed and taking the chance of me falling and breaking my bones, the way Amalie did,” snapped Miss Jennifer. “I’m a big woman, Lindsay, and I’m heavy. Also, I’m completely helpless. Had you thought about what it would be like to get me out of this bed and into a wheel chair, with nobody here to help you? I won’t even consider taking the risk, so the matter is closed. I don’t wish to hear any more about it Now go away. I want to take my nap.”
Lindsay hesitated. But, after all, what Miss Jennifer said made sense. At the hospital there had been orderlies to assist getting patients out of bed and into wheel chairs. Surveying Miss Jennifer’s bulk, she had to admit that it would be a difficult job to manage. And there would be, as Miss Jennifer had pointed out, some risk of a fall, since the old-fashioned bed was high and a wheel chair would be lower.
Miss Jennifer glared at her.
“I said to go away!” she ordered sharply.
“I’ll be right next door if you want me.”
“I won’t, so go anywhere you want to.”
Lindsay nodded and left the room.
When Dr. Corbett called for her, she was dressed and waiting for him in a pretty print frock, its scattering of pink flowers emphasized by the fleecy pink stole draped carelessly about her shoulders.
“You are a most remarkable young woman,” he told her as he tucked her into his car.
“Of course,” Lindsay agreed mockingly. “In what way, kind sir?”
“In a great many ways. But for the moment I was overcome by the fact that you were dressed and ready at the hour we had agreed on.”
“That indicates an eagerness that perhaps isn’t good feminine tactics for a first date.” Lindsay laughed.
“If I could think it was really that, I’d be so flattered there’d be no enduring me.” He chuckled.
“Then you may well be flattered, kind sir, because I have been looking forward to this evening,” she admitted frankly.
“I’m deeply gratified,” he told her, and stole a glance from the narrow twisting road they were traveling to glance down at her. “No objection from Miss Jennifer about your dining in a den of iniquity?”
“Is it? Sounds like fun,” Lindsay answered his question. “She not only didn’t object; she seemed downright pleased. She sent a message to the man who operates the Tavern, and I’m to spy on the shrimp boat captains and report to her.”
“Trusting soul, isn’t she?” Dr. Corbett said grimly.
“Oh, very! Queen of Bayou Village,” Lindsay answered, and added contritely, “I feel terrible talking about her like this! So let’s talk about something else. After all, she is my only living blood-relative, and she did look after me and bring me up after my parents died. I owe her a lot.”
“Which, according to Dr. Potter, she is determined to wrest from you before she’s finished with you.”
“Well, it wasn’t her idea for me to come and look after her,” Lindsay protested awkwardly. “It was just that there wasn’t anybody else.”
They had traversed the several miles that lay between Bayou House and the village, and now Dr. Corbett was parking his sturdy, two-year old coupe in the open space in front of a long, low building from which came sounds of laughter, voices, the clamor of a juke box and bright lights that spilled through an open doorway and several windows along the front.
They walked up the steps, and Dr. Corbett held the screen door open for her. As Lindsay stepped inside the place, there was a sudden hush as the occupants stared at her and recognized her. A fat, short man in a plaid shirt and a soiled white apron came for
ward to greet her, with a marked uneasiness in his small, close-set eyes.
“Well, now, it’s Miss Lindsay, isn’t it? I’m Pete Holcomb, and I’m mighty glad to welcome you to the Tavern,” he assured her, and nodded to Dr. Corbett. “How’re you, Doc? Mighty nice of you to bring Miss Mallory along. Right over here is a table.”
The place was typical, with sand on the floor; red and white curtains drawn back from the windows; matching cloths on the tables that ranged one side of the room, leaving the bulk of the room for a bar and a small dance floor in the center.
The momentary silence that had greeted Lindsay’s appearance was swallowed up in noise as several people went back to dance to the clamor of the juke box, and voices and laughter once more swirled over the scene.
Pete hovered beside Dr. Corbett and Lindsay and offered an ancient fly-specked menu which Dr. Corbett waved aside.
“Bring us something good, Pete!” he ordered. “I know you have a fine cook who knows what to do with sea food.”
Pete grinned, showing tobacco-stained teeth.
“That’s Mrs. Pete you’re talking about, Doc.” He grinned. “Sure, she’s a fine cook. That’s why I married her!”
Dr. Corbett chuckled. “Whatever you do, don’t let her hear you say that, or I’ll have another job stitching you up!”
“Oh, I mind my manners when I’m near Rosie.” Pete grinned and bustled off.
“He’s quite a character, isn’t he?” Dr. Corbett addressed Lindsay with a touch of anxiety, not quite sure how the atmosphere of the place was affecting her.
“This is quite a place,” Lindsay remarked.
“It doesn’t offend you?” he asked.
Lindsay stared at him, surprised.
“Offend me? Why, how you do talk! I think it’s fun. It’s gay and lively and noisy; just what I needed after a few days at Bayou House. I hope we can come back again sometime.”
“Any time! Any time at all!” he assured her, obviously relieved and pleased at her reaction.
She became aware of someone staring at her persistently, turned to glance around the room and saw a young man in his mid-twenties, a thick shock of unruly dark hair topping a very handsome sunbronzed face lit with quizzical dark eyes. He was clad in dungarees and a short-sleeved dark sweat-shirt. He was lounging at the bar, his eyes taking her in from head to foot with a boldness that somehow brought a tinge of pink to her cheeks as she turned away.
A moment later the man had slid from the bar stool and was threading his way through the small clot of dancers to the table where she and Dr. Corbett sat.
“Hi, Lindsay,” he greeted her as though they were old friends. “I never expected to see the likes of you in Pete’s joint.” Dr. Corbett was on his feet, his eyes angry.
“Do you know him, Lindsay?” he asked, his tone grating.
“Well, of course she does!” the man answered, laughing. “We went to school together, and I’d never have finished if she hadn’t let me copy off her examination papers. Jason Hutchens, Lin. Only you always called me Jay, remember?”
“Oh, yes, I do remember you, Jay,” said Lindsay more eagerly than she would have spoken had she not seen the anger in Dr. Corbett’s eyes. “It’s been a long time. Do you know Dr. Corbett?”
The man’s handsome face was touched by a slow, lazy grin.
“Oh, sure, Doc patched me up a bit the last time I lost out to a ’gator. Hi, Doc,” he drawled.
Dr. Corbett eyed him curiously, and then the anger in his eyes was replaced by a flicker of recognition.
“Oh, yes, you’re that ’gator-runner, aren’t you?” he asked.
Lindsay looked from one to the other, puzzled.
“What’s a ’gator-runner, for goodness sake?” she demanded.
Jay grinned down at her.
“I capture them for their hides and for any zoos or roadsides stands that want to trap a few tourists by showing them the ‘denizens of the wild,’ before fleecing them in a ‘con’ game or poisoning them with some of ‘Mom’s home-cooking,’” he drawled.
“Oh, yes, I believe the state authorities are trying to wipe out those roadside stands,” Lindsay remembered.
Jay grinned as though at some absurd statement from an innocent, not too bright child.
“Oh, sure, the state authorities are awful busy cracking down, until they get their itching palms greased, and then the stands will be flourishing same as always.”
Pete came, bearing a laden tray, and scowled at Jay.
“You been invited to join Doc and Miss Mallory, Jay?” he asked.
“Of course not.” Jay grinned amiably. “I just came over to welcome Lin back to the Bayou. Be seein’ you around, Lin.”
“Well, Posy’s just come in, and she’s looking for you,” Pete told him curtly, and indicated a girl who had just come into the Tavern and who was standing at the bar, her big dark eyes roaming over the place.
Lindsay thought there was a faint gleam that could have been apprehension in Jay’s handsome face as he made a little gesture of leave-taking and moved across the room toward the bar.
The girl’s lovely face lit up as she saw him, and then her eyes went beyond him to the table where Lindsay and Dr. Corbett sat. Her eyes took Lindsay in with an insolent look, and she tossed her head, crowned by an elaborately “teased” coiffure of midnight-black hair. She wore a very tight black sheath skirt that reached barely to her knees and a brilliantly flowered off-the-shoulder blouse.
In short, Lindsay told herself, hiding her amusement, she was exactly what she would have pictured as a belle of a Bayou Tavern.
Dr. Corbett said softly, “Any minute now the chorus will burst into music by Bizet. A more perfect Carmen it would be hard to imagine. However, Posy does not work in a cigarette factory, but in a shrimp-packing shed.”
“Oh, you know her?” asked Lindsay. “She’s a very beautiful girl.”
“I have the honor of knowing her.” Dr. Corbett’s tone was faintly acid. “She’s a trouble-maker, and I’ve had the doubtful pleasure of patching up some of the girls with whom she fights. She’s really a dirty fighter, too. Your friend Jay is lucky to be a ’gator-trainer. Being Posy’s boyfriend must give him a lot of practice.”
Lindsay laughed and glanced about the room.
“One does meet the nicest people at the Bayou, doesn’t one?” she mocked lightly.
“One does indeed.” Dr. Corbett grinned at her. “Like the lovely Miss Mallory, for instance.”
“And the charming Dr. Corbett.” Lindsay laughed and made a slight mocking inclination of her head.
“Oh, we’re a couple of charmers, all right,” Dr. Corbett said. “What I can’t quite understand is how we happen to be here.”
“Oh, but that’s very simple,” Lindsay pointed out. “You wanted to do some research on swamp viruses, and I wanted to do my duty by my aged and ailing aunt. And here we are!”
“And our dinner—or should one call it supper in these parts?—is getting cold, so shall we have at it? It looks—shall we say rather interesting?”
“Don’t be so snooty!” Lindsay cautioned him as she dug a fork into the colorful mass on her plate. “It’s chicken gumbo, and the Bayou is famous for it. Pete’s Rosie is a fabulous cook, the kind that never measures anything; just a pinch of this and a smidgen of that. That’s the way Amalie cooks, and I can testify to the excellent results.”
She brought the forkful of food to her mouth, tasted it and sighed happily.
“Delicious! And the ‘hush-puppies’ are delectable!” she assured him.
“On your recommendation,” he told her, tasted the food, and looked both pleased and surprised. “Quite different from hospital cooking, isn’t it?”
Lindsay laughed. “Oh, don’t even mention it. Any comparison would be odious, with the hospital food losing the decision by default.�
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The music from the juke box was temporarily silent, and then another blast burst forth. Dr. Corbett winced and put down his fork.
“About the only way to endure that would be to dance to it. Would you care to?” he asked.
Lindsay laughed and shook her head.
“Not until I’ve finished my dinner, thanks,” she protested. “And after the silence and the bickering of the last few days at Bayou House, it’s pleasant to hear something called music, even if it is several thousand light-years removed from any hint of melody.”
Dr. Corbett looked at the wildly gyrating couples on the floor and drew a deep breath.
“Thanks,” he said so gratefully that Lindsay stared at him, puzzled.
“For what?” she asked.
“For not getting us embroiled in that.” He gestured toward the dance floor, where every known variety of the twist was being demonstrated.
Lindsay stared, looked back at him and grimaced.
“It makes my back hurt just to watch them!” she confessed.
“Mine, too!” he admitted. “Posy and your friend Jay seem to be doing all right, though.”
Lindsay watched the two, who were dancing with a peculiar lack of expression, as if their thoughts were miles away and they were merely going through gyrations automatically. Suddenly Jay reached out, caught Posy’s outflung hands and jerked her toward him. She went stiff, and he slid her beneath his legs and brought her smartly back again while the other dancers moved respectfully to give them room. And as the space in the center of the floor was cleared for them, Posy and Jay improvised still further until the two were like whirling dervishes. Applause broke out here and there; loud cries of approval and encouragement. Obviously this was a regular part of the Tavern’s entertainment, and Posy and Jay seemed to be enjoying the applause, though their expressions were blank. Furthermore the applause seemed to spur them on to wilder and wilder gyrations.
Lindsay watched, wide-eyed, while Dr. Corbett watched her, amused and admiring. When she turned her head and caught his eyes on her, she felt color sting her cheeks and said hastily, “If they aren’t enjoying it, why are they doing it?”
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