Holding the broom before her like it was the staff of righteousness, Arleen started after Jax. Elita grabbed the handle and yanked the broom from her hands with such force Arleen lost her footing and fell backwards on the ground.
“What are you doing, Elita?” she screamed.
“I could ask you the same thing. Jax wasn’t hurting anyone. Why did you go after him that way?”
“I don’t allow that weirdo anywhere near my children.” Fern helped Arleen up. “I planned to show him he wasn’t wanted around here.”
Elita threw down the broom and fisted her hands on her hips. “This is Dupree property, not Fregia. You don’t get to decide who is welcome here and who’s not.”
“I can’t believe you’re taking up for that fool?” Arleen brushed off the seat of her Bermuda shorts. “Living in the city must have scrambled your brain.”
Elita’s back stiffened, but she didn’t respond to the insult. Living in the city hadn’t scrambled her brain, but it and five years of maturing had taught her to remain calm on the outside while seething on the inside. She grinned at Arleen. “That boy of yours has a vivid imagination. He claimed you were going to whip my butt.”
Arleen’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve been gone five years. If you think you can waltz back into Royce’s life as if you’d never left, you’d best think again.”
“What happens between me and Royce is none of your business.”
Arleen wagged her finger in Elita’s face. “You’d better watch yourself, Elita Pearl.”
The anger simmering in Elita’s stomach flared. An instinct resurrected from her rowdy youth pressed her to answer Arleen’s challenge by knocking her back down on her ample rear end. In an effort to rein in her childish impulse, Elita blew out a couple of deep breaths. She folded her arms, arched an eyebrow, and with deliberate calm asked, “Is that a threat, Arleen?”
“Stay away from Royce or you’ll be sorry!” Arleen shouted and raced back up the trail before Elita could respond. Fern snatched up the broom and scurried after her.
Elita picked up the trashcans and trudged back toward the house. She pondered Cliff’s actions from the previous night, T-Boyd’s comment about her making trouble for his aunt, and Arleen’s bizarre demand that she stay away from Royce. Things were beginning to add up, and Elita didn’t like the number she was getting—three. Starla, Royce, and her.
Entering the kitchen, she found Fern and Arleen huddled together by the sink. They ceased their whispering as soon as they saw her.
She strode up to them and flashed a wide smile. “Excuse me, ladies. I need to put this trashcan under the sink.”
Arleen puckered her lips, thrust out her chin, and marched off to join Mamaw Pearl and Grandma Mouton out on the screened porch.
“There’s no room in the icebox for the potato salad,” Fern said.
“I can feed some of the old leftovers to Uncle Matt’s hounds.” Elita reached for the icebox handle, but Fern grabbed her arm.
“Starla got a job as Royce’s secretary about a year ago. They’ve been dating since last November.” Fern glanced at the front door before continuing. “He took her to New Orleans for Mardi Gras, and they spent the weekend together in some swanky hotel. Starla told us Royce spared no expense.”
An acidic mixture of anger and apprehension roiled in Elita’s stomach, but she forced a smile. “Royce isn’t one to fret over spending money. As a Sutton, he’s never had to.”
“That’s true.” Fern released Elita’s arm, leaned in close. “According to Arleen, Starla and Royce are practically engaged.”
“Practically engaged? What the hell does that mean?”
Fern shrugged.
“Has he given Starla a ring?” Elita’s throat seemed to close around the question.
“Not yet, but Arleen thinks it’s only a matter of time. That’s why she’s upset you’re back in town. She’s afraid you’re going to try to steal Royce away from her sister.” Fern checked the front door again. “Arleen’s whole family is banking on Starla marrying Royce.”
Banking was the appropriate word in this case. No doubt Arleen figured to cash in on some of Royce’s money and influence if she became his sister-in-law. Elita didn’t know Starla well enough to make a definitive opinion as to her motives. Maybe the girl really loved Royce. But then, why wouldn’t she?
In addition to being wealthy, Royce was handsome, smart, and educated. A passionate lover, he knew the secret, sensual places where a woman longs to be touched. He understood how to use his hands, mouth, and muscular frame in such a way as to ignite a blaze in every cell of a female’s body. Yes, Royce was an experienced lover, one who had used Elita’s teenage body as an instrument to hone his expertise. But she couldn’t complain. She’d been a willing partner in their sexual explorations and had perfected her own skills.
Elita’s chest tightened as she recalled their youthful pledge of fidelity and their vow to share their amatory talents with no one but each other. They’d been so sure their love would last forever. Damn, they’d been so naïve, she thought. It seemed like a lifetime ago and yet, it seemed like yesterday. In fact, it had been yesterday! Mamaw, Cliff, and even Nettie had warned her Royce had changed. But could he have changed so much he would’ve made love to her repeatedly while being practically engaged to Starla? Elita’s mind couldn’t fathom such a betrayal. There had to be some other explanation.
The sound of a car engine grabbed everyone’s attention. Fern looked out the window.
“Who is it?” Elita asked.
“A truck belonging to Sutton Oil just pulled up.”
Elita’s pulse quickened. “Is it Royce?”
Fern shook her head. “It’s his aunt, I think.”
Fern and Elita walked out onto the screened porch just as a petite, auburn-haired woman in her mid-thirties stepped out. Impeccably dressed in a pale yellow suit with black buttons, black belt, and matching pumps, Virginia Sutton Reed strolled toward the porch with the grace and dignity of a Grand Dame of the Confederacy.
As the only daughter of Ronald R. Sutton Sr., the founder of Sutton Oil, Royce’s aunt had enjoyed a life of privilege and respectability while growing up on Caddo Lake. At seventeen, she’d married Darwin Reed, a man fifteen years her senior and the chief financial adviser for her father’s company.
Elita remembered Royce telling her his grandfather had arranged his aunt’s marriage. She wondered why anyone would need to arrange a marriage for Virginia Sutton. Surely, a beautiful, refined lady like her would’ve had numerous suitors.
Arleen hurried to open the screen door for their unexpected guest. “Come on in, Mrs. Reed. This is a real pleasure, ma’am.”
“Thank you . . . Mrs. Fregia, isn’t it?”
“Arleen Fregia. I’m married to Eldon.”
Fern cleared her throat.
“That’s my sister-in-law, Fern. She’s married to my husband’s twin brother, Alton.”
“The Fregia twins,” Virginia said. “I remember now. They were a few years ahead of Royce in school.”
“Haven’t seen you in a coon’s age, Missy,” Grandma Mouton said. “Where have you been hiding yourself?”
“In Shreveport, mainly.” Virginia Reed crossed the porch to where Grandma Mouton was sitting, bent down and hugged the elderly woman. She pointed to the skeins of blue and green yarn in Grandma Mouton’s lap. “I see you’re still crocheting clothes for your grandbabies.”
“These are for my great-grandbabies.”
“Great grandbabies?” Virginia shook her head. “Children grow up so fast. My Susan is graduating high school this year and will turn eighteen in July.”
Grandma Mouton pointed at Elita. “Speaking of growing up.”
Virginia walked over to Elita and surprised her with a firm hug. She took two steps back. “Let me get a good look at you.” Her apricot tinted lips eased into a broad smile. “Nettie told me you were as beautiful as your mother.” Virginia’s smile faded; her voice deepened. “When we were
young, Madeline and I were good friends. Please forgive me, Elita, for not attending her funeral. I was out of the country or I’d have been there.”
“It happened so fast, Mrs. Reed. Thank you for the orchids. They were Mama’s favorite.”
She lifted a soft, manicured hand and gently touched Elita’s face. “I remembered, and please call me Virginia.”
Mamaw Pearl whacked her cane against the porch wall. “Why are you here, woman?”
Virginia’s pale cheeks reddened. “I thought the men might be hungry, so I brought over some boiled shrimp, coleslaw, and hush puppies.”
“There’s no room in the icebox, Mrs. Reed,” Fern said.
“That’s okay. I have everything iced down. I even brought a cooler of drinks.”
“We’re more than able to feed our own,” Mamaw said.
Virginia smiled nervously. “My family is grateful to everyone for their help in—”
“The Suttons have never been grateful for anythin’,” Pearl declared. “You’re thieves. The whole lot of you.”
“How dare you talk to Mrs. Reed that way?” Arleen demanded.
“This is my house and I’ll say whatever I damn well please. If you don’t like it, leave.” Pearl turned icy gray eyes on Virginia. “I don’t recall invitin’ you to my home.”
Fern gasped.
“That’s true, Mrs. Dupree. I am here without an invitation and I apologize if my being here has upset anyone, especially you.” Virginia Reed spoke in a soft, controlled manner even though her hands were trembling. “I thought under the circumstances, we could set aside our differences for the time being.”
“You thought wrong.” Pearl’s bitter tone amplified her contempt.
“Mamaw,” Elita said, “I know how you feel about Royce’s family, but that’s no reason for you to be rude to Mrs. Reed.”
“Don’t you sass me, Baby Girl.” She shook her cane at her granddaughter. “You don’t know anythin’ about how I feel.”
Grandma Mouton stopped her crocheting and pushed to her feet. “Pearl, it’s getting mighty warm out here. I could use a nap. How about you?”
Pearl stood. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day. You can lie down in Elita’s room.” The two women headed inside.
Elita waited until Mamaw shut her bedroom door before apologizing to Royce’s aunt.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s been a rough day for everyone.” Virginia furrowed her brow. “I pray they find Dale soon and he’s unharmed.”
A chill passed through Elita as she recalled Jax’s words about it being too late to help Butler. Did he know something for sure or was his statement merely a prediction?
“Does Mr. Butler have a family?” Fern asked.
“A wife and three children, the youngest a freshman in college.” Virginia glanced at her watch. “Dale also has a heart condition that often requires medication.”
“Did he take his medicine with him when he went fishing?” Elita asked.
“I’m sure he did.” Virginia sighed, “What should I do with all that food?”
“We can sit the coolers here on the porch,” Arleen said. “There’s no use in letting good food go to waste just because Mamaw Pearl is an old—”
“That will be fine,” Virginia interrupted. “Maybe the bigger children can help me bring the coolers inside.”
Fern headed for the door. “We’ll get them for you. Won’t we, Arleen?”
“Of course.” Arleen started after her sister-in-law, but stopped and turned back to speak to Virginia. “My sister, Starla, is Royce’s secretary. Perhaps he’s mentioned her to you?”
“I don’t recall the name, but Royce stays so busy we seldom get a chance to talk.”
“I’m sure he’ll tell you about Starla the first chance he gets. Royce and my kid sister have been keeping company outside of work. They’ve become very close.” Arleen stepped closer to Virginia. “From what I hear, your nephew is crazy about Starla.”
“Really? I haven’t heard.”
Elita detected a definite note of surprise in Virginia’s response.
“You should ask him about her, Mrs. Reed,” Arleen said.
“I certainly will.”
Arleen cast Elita a smug grin before going to help with the coolers.
As soon as they were alone, Virginia turned to Elita. “I don’t know what to say. I know how close you and Royce were.”
“There’s nothing to say. I’ve been away for five years. Royce has gone on with his life and so have I.” Elita tried to sound casual, blasé, entirely unconcerned about the idea of Royce being with another woman.
“Have you seen Royce?” Virginia asked. “Have you two had a chance to visit at all?”
“I spent yesterday afternoon with him. We’d planned to go water skiing, but didn’t go because of the storm. We passed the time catching up and reminiscing about old times.”
“Did he tell you anything about this Starla woman?”
“He didn’t mention her.” Elita didn’t feel the need to tell Virginia her suspicions as to why Royce omitted telling her about his personal relationship with his secretary.
Virginia smiled. “If Royce hasn’t mentioned Starla to either one of us, he can’t be too serious about her. Can he?”
The screen door opened, saving Elita from having to reply.
Breathing heavily, Fern lugged a red cooler over to the east corner of the porch and plopped it down. “You filled this cooler good, Mrs. Reed.”
“You shouldn’t have carried that heavy thing by yourself,” Virginia said, her voice filled with genuine concern.
Fern’s lips split into a wide smile, revealing yellowed teeth that were crooked on the bottom row. “Oh that’s nothing. You should feel my laundry basket on washday. In addition to our three kids, Alton and I took in two boys whose parents died in a car wreck last summer.”
“I remember the accident. The papers said the boys had no other family,” Virginia said. “How kind of you and Alton to take them in.”
“Heck, they ain’t no trouble.” Fern mopped the sweat off her round face with the tail of her lavender cotton skirt. “My momma lives with us too. Eight people in a five-room house.”
“That must get a little hectic at times,” Elita said.
Fern laughed. “Yep, but I always wanted a big family.”
Elita recalled that when growing up, Fern had lived a solitary life with only her widowed mother to claim her. Elita’s life had been full of family. Loving parents, a brother, grandparents, aunts and uncles, and too many cousins to keep track of. Looking at Fern now, it struck Elita as strange the way their lives had reversed roles. Fern was the one with family coming out of her ears now. And when Elita returned to Chicago, she’d be alone in a lovely nine-room house that had never felt like home.
“They’re back,” T-Boyd shouted from the dock. “Daddy and the men are coming down the bayou now.”
“Great,” Fern said, “I don’t have to hunt a place in the icebox for the dang potato salad.”
Arleen, Fern, and all the kids ran toward the dock to wave to the men and get the news on their search for Butler.
Virginia reached for Elita’s hand. “I hope they found Dale and he’s okay.”
Elita swallowed her feeling of dread, gave Virginia’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Me, too.”
CHAPTER 6
The Fregia brothers had found Dale Butler’s lost associates three miles northwest of Pine Ridge Lodge. Based on that information, Sheriff Glover deployed his search crews north to Oil City and west toward Moccasin Bayou. Shortly after sunrise, Luther found Dale’s body in the shallows off Mayhaw Point in the southeast section of Caddo Lake. The coroner ruled Dale’s death an accident, a massive heart attack brought on by exposure to the storm.
Two weeks later, the gruesome discovery was still the talk of the town. When asked why he decided to go south when all the evidence dictated otherwise, Luther said he’d followed a hunch. No one in Caddo Parish questioned his ex
planation. The Boudreaux men knew the Caddo better than most people knew their backyards. In this neck of the woods, folks knew better than to ignore hunches, premonitions, or gut feelings.
Elita placed the cans of paint in the back of Uncle Matt’s 1954 Ford truck. Two more gallons of forest green were all she needed to finish painting the rental cabins and Mamaw Pearl’s house. It’d been a bigger job than anticipated, but she’d been glad for the work. She welcomed any distraction that helped her forget Royce hadn’t called her since the day Luther found Dale’s body.
Their conversation had been short and one-sided. Royce told Elita he and his family were going to Houston to meet with Dale’s family and help with the funeral arrangements. He promised to call her from Houston. A promise he had yet to keep.
Elita slid into the driver’s seat, slipped the key into the ignition, and was about to start the engine when she heard a loud burst of laughter. Across the street, two men in suits and a well-dressed woman with flaxen hair stood on the sidewalk in front of the Sutton Oil building. A third man, dressed in a white shirt, navy sport coat and slacks exited Sutton Oil and joined them. Elita recognized the third man, and silently chided herself for her failure to identify the young female immediately.
She got out of the truck and walked across the street. The mature, educated woman inside of her screamed. Elita, stop! Don’t make a scene. But the irate child within would not listen. She was twelve years old again, going forth to challenge a breaker of promises, a crusher of hearts, a destroyer of trust.
The well-dressed foursome walked toward a white Ford Custom sedan that sported the Sutton Oil logo on its doors. One of the men said something and they all laughed.
“Royce Sutton,” Elita yelled.
His smile faded as she walked up to the group.
With deliberate calm, Elita greeted the foursome. “Hi, Royce. Hello, Starla.” She extended her hand to the strangers. “We haven’t met. I’m Elita Dupree, an old friend of Royce’s.”
Shadows of Home: A Woman with Questions. A Man with Secrets. A Bayou without Mercy Page 7