“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
She pushed him away. “I’m fine. I just want to take a shower and get out of these heels.”
He pushed her hair out of her eyes. “We’ll go after I see Mother.”
“Dorothea is gone,” Virginia said.
“Damn!” Royce slapped his hand against his thigh.
“She knew you’d be mad,” Matt said. “So she took the car and high-tailed it out of here.”
Royce balled his hands into fists. “I’m way past mad.”
Virginia patted his shoulder. “Everything is okay now. She dropped the charges.”
“There never should've been any charges in the first place,” Royce’s voice grew louder with each word. “Did she go home? I want to find her and—”
“If you’re going to spend the rest of the night ranting about your mother, I’m going to Mamaw Pearl’s.” Elita started to open the back door of her uncle’s car.
Royce grabbed the door. “Wait a minute, honey.”
“You can have it out with your mother tomorrow,” Virginia said.
Matt checked his watch. “It’s almost three in the morning. Elita is tired, and we’ve all had enough of Dorothea to last awhile.”
Royce turned to Elita. “Let’s go to my house.”
She shrugged. “Thanks again, Virginia. You too, Uncle Matt.”
“Think nothing of it.” Virginia hugged her. “You two try and salvage the rest of your evening together.”
“Do you need a ride home?” Elita asked.
“I’ll catch a ride with Matt.”
Elita and Royce said goodbye and walked to his Jeep.
“I’m sorry about this.” He opened the door for her. “I promise to make it up to you.”
Elita gave a curt nod and climbed into the Jeep. She waited until Royce got in before speaking. “After I shower and change clothes, I want to take the boat out.”
“Tonight?”
“Yes. I want to go out to Old Mill Point.”
“That’s over on the Texas side of the Caddo.”
“I know where it is, Royce! If you don’t want to take me, just say so.” Her rebuke tumbled out loud and shrill. Her inner Caddo girl wanted to go straight to Sutton Manor, confront Dorothea, and finally tell her off. Elita, the grownup, urged restraint even as she struggled to keep her internal turmoil in check. Heart over mind? Mind over heart? Which one would win? A veil of numbing weariness descended upon her. She didn’t have the strength to fight herself tonight, much less her enemies.
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t take you, but why do you want to go to Old Mill Point tonight?”
Elita rolled down the Jeep window, inhaled the warm night air, waited for her pulse to slow. “I want to watch the sunrise from there. Is that a problem?” Her voice sounded softer, calmer now.
Royce started the engine, gunned the motor. “Nope, no problem at all.”
CHAPTER 16
Royce pushed open his front door, flipped on the light, and stepped aside to let Elita enter first. She plopped down on the sofa and pulled off her shoes. On the trip home, Royce apologized repeatedly for his mother’s actions. Elita stared out the Jeep window, nodded her head now and then to indicate she was listening, but never said a word.
He closed the door. “Elita, honey, I really am—”
A jade-colored high-heel sailed through the air toward him. Royce ducked. The shoe bounced off the door and hit him in the middle of his back. “Damn, Elita, what was that for?”
She held up her other high heel. “If you don’t stop apologizing for your mother, I’m going to throw this one at you too.”
“I was just trying to say—”
Elita pulled back her arm.
“Okay, I get the message.” Royce rubbed his spine. “Want something to drink?”
“All I want right now is a shower.” Still holding one shoe, Elita headed for the bathroom.
Royce stepped in front of her. “Why aren’t you mad? I thought you’d be foaming at the mouth mad.”
“When they first locked me up, I was so angry I could’ve pulled Dorothea’s hair out.”
“So what happened?”
She placed her hand on his chest. “I realized it wasn’t all her fault.”
“The hell it wasn’t.” He grabbed her hand. “She knew you were driving the Mercedes.”
“Yes, and you knew she’d be upset if I drove the car she’d given you for your birthday”
Royce pulled back. “So you’re saying it’s my fault?”
“Not entirely.” Elita scrubbed a hand over her face. “When I got in the car, I saw Dorothea at the window of the hotel. I saw the angry look on her face and knew I should get out of the car and go get the keys to the Jeep. Instead, I gave her a huge, sarcastic smile and a big wave.” She leaned against the doorframe. “Basically, I threw down the gauntlet and your mother picked it up and slapped me silly with it.”
“This is all her doing, all her fault. Another one of the stupid games she likes to play with my life.” His hands balled into fist. “She had you arrested because she knew it’d hurt me.”
“Dorothea had me arrested because she hates my being with you.” Elita pushed her hair behind her ears. “She’s your mother and she thinks you deserve someone better than me.”
“There’s no one better than you.” He lowered his mouth near hers. “I love you, Elita.”
“I know.”
“Let’s get married tonight.” The words tumbled out of him.
“Get married tonight? You’re not serious.”
“You bet I’m serious. We could fly to Las Vegas and be married in a day or two at the most.”
She took a step back. “Why the rush?”
“What better way to get back at Mother? We could get married, take a few days off for a honeymoon, and then come back and announce to the world that we’re married.” He laughed. “Can you picture my mother’s face when she hears we’re man and wife?”
Elita grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at her. “You’re talking crazy.”
He pulled her hand away. “No, I’m not. It’s the perfect way to get back at her.”
“And when our children ask why we got married, we can tell them their mommy and daddy got married to spite their Grandma Sutton because she had mommy arrested.” Elita shook her shoe at him. “Is that the kind of lesson you want to teach our children?”
“We’ll be getting married because we love each other. Getting back at Mother would be an added bonus.”
“As tempting as that sounds, I think I’ll pass.” She headed down the hall toward the bathroom.
He followed her. “Would you like me to wash your back?”
She pivoted to face him. “I’d like you to change clothes, get the boat ready to go out to Old Mill Point, and—”
“And wash your back?”
Her high-heel sailed through the air.
Royce ducked. The shoe missed him by inches.
Elita slammed the bathroom door and locked it.
* * *
A couple of hours before dawn, Royce dropped anchor forty yards off Old Mill Point. The three houses that lined the bank were dark. All the outside lights on the thirty-two foot Chris Craft cruiser were off except for a row of small lights across the front of the cabin.
Although she hadn’t felt like making love, Elita had been the one to suggest they go below deck. Royce hadn’t stopped apologizing for the actions of his mother, and she knew it would take more than words to make him understand she wasn’t angry with him. The rage that had swelled inside her earlier had dissipated, replaced by a numbing sadness, which permeated her body and mind. She’d done nothing to be ashamed of, but even while lying next to Royce, she couldn’t shake the dull vestige of humiliation she’d felt when Todd Menard handcuffed her.
Elita rolled out of Royce’s arms and shifted to sit up on the side of the pulled-out sofa bed. She massaged the back of her neck in an attempt to rub away
the tension camped between her shoulder blades.
An ominous sense of loss plagued Elita since her fruitless trip to Moccasin Bayou. She’d managed to push it to the back burners of her mind so she could focus on her renewed relationship with Royce. Her strategy had been working. Over the past month, she’d felt more confident, more sure of herself than at any time since her return to the Caddo. When she was with Royce, she felt safe, physically and emotionally. The events of the past twelve hours, however, reignited her odd feeling of being an outsider in the land of her birth.
Elita climbed out of bed and checked the clock mounted above the galley stove.
Royce pushed up on one elbow. “Where’re you going?”
“Upstairs. It’ll be daylight soon.”
“Okay, wake me when the coffee’s ready.”
Elita washed up and started the coffee before going topside to settle in a canvas deck chair to wait for the sunrise. She heard Royce banging around downstairs.
A ribbon of reddish-orange sun broke on the eastern horizon as Royce handed Elita a cup of coffee. He eased down into the chair beside hers. “There’s your sunrise, Cricket.”
Elita nodded and tried to summon the smile that used to appear every time Royce called her by her childhood nickname. But today, the feeling of dread that gnawed at her insides edged out even the smallest grin. Her eyes fixed upon the sun as it revealed more of itself with each passing minute. Her pulse beat in her ears. She remembered the tide of emotions the rising sun would bring in her, the change it had always brought in her whenever she and her father watched the sun come up over Caddo Lake.
Royce broke the silence. “It’s pretty, but I don’t see why you insisted on coming out here this morning, especially considering the night we had.”
“Look.” She stood and pointed at the sun. “From this angle, it looks like the sun is rising up out of the water.”
He rose and turned his attention to the eastern horizon. “Well, I’ll be damn. That sun does look like it’s coming up right out of the Caddo. I never noticed that before.”
“That’s because you’ve never been at Old Mill Point at daybreak.” Elita blew on her coffee. “I was three when my daddy first brought me here. He said, ‘Look at the sun, Baby Girl. See how the sun rises out of the Caddo? That proves that Caddo Lake is the best place in the world.’ Then he’d take out a piece of Mama’s homemade pecan praline, break it in half, and we’d watch the sun rise up out of the lake while eating our candy.” She took another sip of coffee. “When the sun was finally up, Daddy would say, ‘The Duprees are the luckiest people in the world because we live where the sun lives. The Caddo is where we belong.’ Then he’d give me a bear hug and ask, ‘Are you my Caddo girl, Elita Pearl?’”
Royce leaned in close to her. “And what did you say?”
Elita stared at the rising ball of light and at the red-orange glow spreading across the dark-stained waters. “I’d say, yes Daddy, I’m your Caddo girl.”
Royce grinned. “And you’re still that Caddo girl today.”
“Am I?” She walked over to the boat railing. “I don’t think so. And the saddest part is I don’t know when she left or where she went.”
Royce came up behind her. “Don’t talk like that, honey. The Caddo is as much a part of you now as ever.”
She pushed past him, plopped down in the chair and covered her face with her hands. “I want to leave, Royce. I need to go home.”
"Okay. I'm getting hungry anyway. When we get home, I'll cook—"
"I don't want to go to your house. I have to go home to Chicago."
Royce turned his chair to face her and sat. “You don't mean that. Chicago isn't your home."
"It’s as much my home as the Caddo is. At least there, I know who I am. I know what is expected from me, and I’m treated with respect."
"Everyone respects you except my mother. And you’re not alone there. The only thing Mother respects is a no-limit credit card.”
Elita forced a smile for Royce’s sake. “Growing up, you always had one foot in the Caddo and one foot in the world beyond. Your family travelled the globe, experienced life beyond the boundaries of Caddo Lake. You fit into that world.”
Royce reached for her hand. “But I always came home to the Caddo.”
“And you fit in here beautifully, too. You’re one of those people who can flourish anywhere because you have such confidence in yourself.”
He chuckled. “That sounds more like Cliff to me. Little brother never meets a stranger.”
“You two have more in common than you think.”
“We’re getting sidetracked.” He kissed the palm of her hand. “We were discussing this crazy idea of you leaving.”
“The night before I flew back to bury my mother, I dreamed I was falling from the sky.”
Royce rubbed her shoulders. “You were exhausted and still in shock. Stands to reason you’d have a scary dream.”
“But I didn’t feel frightened.” She looked at him. “I felt calm, peaceful, as if falling toward somewhere I belonged.”
“You probably felt at peace because you’d found your way home to Caddo Lake.”
“I’m not sure.” She rose out of her chair. “I couldn’t see where I was headed because dark shadows covered the land.” Elita looked again at the rising sun, which now seemed to hover on top of the murky waters of Caddo Lake. “I wanted to see the sunrise at Old Mill Point in hopes that I’d feel the pull of the Caddo again, like when Daddy and I watched it together.” She closed her eyes. “But I don’t feel any sense of belonging here. I just feel lost."
Royce stood, kissed the top of her head. "You're tired. You didn't get much sleep last night thanks to Mother's hateful little scheme. After a long nap you'll feel better."
"Take me to Devin’s Cove, please.”
“What about your search for answers about your dad’s death?” he asked.
“When I was in that jail cell, I thought about his death. It’s time I accept the fact that some questions in life go unanswered.” She scrubbed her hands over her face. “I have responsibilities in Chicago. I need to find an apartment near the university, register for classes, and pack up Mama’s things.”
“You don’t want to do that alone,” he said.
“I have some good friends in Chicago, Royce. They see me as a serious, competent woman. People here, including Mamaw and Uncle Matt, still think of me as that stubborn, barefoot teenager chasing a certain rich boy all over Caddo Lake.”
“Actually, it was me chasing you, trying my best to keep up with you.”
“I’m too tired to debate the past. I need to go home now.”
"Come home with me, Elita," he whispered.
She rubbed her temples, trying to will away her growing headache. “Are you going to take me to Devin's Cove or not?”
"Fine, whatever you say. I should know better than to argue with Elita Pearl Dupree when she's obviously made up her mind." He stomped to the bow, started the engine, and headed across the lake at full speed.
Elita stood at the stern of the boat watching the sun grow smaller as they raced toward Devin’s Cove. Droplets of churned-up waters peppered her face. She was leaving everything she'd known and everything she’d been. For the first time in her life, she was running away instead of standing to fight the demons that clawed at her heart and mind. Was she running from her old life or running toward a new one? A new life without the Caddo, a new life without Royce.
CHAPTER 17
Elita finished drying the breakfast dishes. She wiped out her grandmother's cast iron skillet and placed it on the stove just as Mamaw entered the kitchen carrying a black shoebox.
"Found this on the back porch.” Pearl sat the box on the table. “Reckon it's for you."
Elita hung the dish towel on the oven handle to dry. She looked at the shoebox. On the lid of the box someone had written the letters ELEETA in red crayon. "Where did this come from?"
"It wasn't there earlier when I gathere
d the eggs. Someone must have come up while we were havin’ breakfast. The dogs didn't bark, so it must have been someone they knew. You got any idea who?"
Elita shook her head and lifted the lid. Inside the box was a small, red flannel gris gris bag. She froze. Someone thought she needed a gris gris bag to protect her from the loup-garou.
She lifted it out gently and placed it on the table. The bag was tied with a thin leather cord. A dime, which someone had drilled a hole in, hung on the cord. Elita recalled and old Acadian legend. A dime worn around your neck and under your clothing could ward off evil.
She opened the bag carefully. Inside were nine items, including a black hen feather, which Elita knew symbolized lifting a curse, chicken bones tied together to create a crossbones amulet for luck, a fingernail and tooth from someone or something she didn’t recognize, along with some salt—all talismans believed to have magical powers for protection. A clump of herbs soaked in what she assumed was good luck oil, a folded quarter-sheet of paper from a Big Chief tablet with ELEETA printed on it, a torn lilac and green piece of fabric from an old blouse she’d thrown away, and a small bottle of dirt completed the gris-gris bag.
Pearl picked up the bottle of dirt. “Dirt from a graveyard, no doubt.”
Both women knew the use of graveyard dirt in protection spells usually meant that the dirt came from the grave of a family member or a friend, in the belief that the spirit of the dead person would protect you or your home.
A chill pressed against Elita’s chest. “You think someone bought this dirt from Mama’s grave?”
Mamaw examined the bottle closer. The tradition of buying dirt from the graves of the dead was an old one. You can’t just take the dirt from a grave. You must leave a dime, a Mercury dime if possible, as payment to the spirit of the deceased. “Come with me.” Pearl headed down the wide hallway toward the back porch. Elita followed.
Once on the porch, Pearl pointed to thirteen pennies laid in a line in front of the doorway. “Who thinks you need a gris-gris bag for protection from a loup-garou?”
Shadows of Home: A Woman with Questions. A Man with Secrets. A Bayou without Mercy Page 18