Marco walked up to Luther. “You told us this bitch had gone back to Chicago.”
“That’s what I heard.” Luther wiped at a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face. “Elita, why didn’t you leave when you were supposed to?”
“I had some unfinished business so I changed my ticket.”
Marco shrugged. “Bet you regret that decision now.”
Luther stepped between them. “Let her go, Marco. She’ll keep her mouth shut, I promise.”
“Your promises aren’t worth much these days. You promised she’d be gone by today.”
Luther turned to Elita. “Tell him you won’t say a word to anyone. Tell him you’ll get on that plane and never come back.” His breathing quickened; his eyes blinked rapidly. “For God’s sake, Elita, tell him or else he’s gonna kill you.”
“You feel like begging for your life, Elita?” Marco’s eyes roved over her body. “Maybe you’ve got something to offer me in trade for my word that I’ll let you go?”
She pulled back her shoulders. “Your word isn’t worth merde.”
Marco laughed, slapped his thigh. “Merde?” He sneered at Luther. “Your bayou bitch too classy to say my word is shit?”
“You’d best come with me now, Girl.” Jax stepped half-way out of the shadows, his shotgun nestled in his arms.
“What the hell is this? A family reunion?” the ex-deputy asked.
“It’s just my brother. Nothing to worry about.”
“I know who the knucklehead is.” Marco pointed at Jax. “You were told to keep him away from here. My uncle isn’t going to like this.”
“Jax won’t say anything. Even if he did, nobody would listen to him. I’ll make him leave.” An eye twitch betrayed Luther’s attempt to keep his tone light.
Marco rested his hand on the grip of his revolver.
Jax shifted his shotgun from the cradle of his arms to both hands.
Elita watched the armed men study each other. Jax stood three inches taller and forty pounds heavier than Marco, a man who would not hesitate to kill them all. She didn’t know if Jax loaded his shotgun with birdshot or buckshot, but she didn’t doubt his ability. In the Caddo, parents taught their children how to use guns safely and accurately.
“Get Jax out of here before the others arrive.” Marco’s hand eased off his weapon. “And get that damn shotgun away from him.”
“Sure thing. I’ll send him away right now.” Luther ran over to his brother.
With Marco focused on the argument between the two brothers, Elita seized her chance to escape. She crept backwards three steps and was about to turn and run when Marco pulled his firearm halfway out of its holster. His eyes narrowed as he watched a defiant Jax refuse to let go of his shotgun. Panic surged through her. Marco might kill Jax!
“Who are these ‘other’ people you alluded to?” She yelled to get Marco’s attention on her and off Jax. “More scum like you and your family?”
“Quiet, bitch.” Marco let the pistol slip back into its holster. “Because of you, we’ve got to move everything now. From the Caddo, we’ve been able to distribute our product to Texas, Arkansas, and the East Coast.” He shook his clutched fist at her. “But you Duprees wouldn’t leave well enough alone.”
“This ‘product’ you’re talking about is drugs, isn’t it?” she asked.
“Drugs, guns, you name it, we can supply it.” Marco’s eyes raked her body. “In fact, with your looks, I’m sure we could find a buyer for you.” He let loose a wicked laugh. “How would you like to be a sex slave for some horny rich guy? Maybe, you’d prefer someplace where you’re guaranteed multiple partners every night.”
Elita stepped closer to Marco. “Did you kill my father, you piece of filth?”
“I think that honor went to Aldo. You can ask him. He and a couple of guys will be here after sunset to help move our product off this damn island. We’ll decide what to do with you then.”
“You ain’t going to hurt her.” Luther stood at the edge of the clearing holding his brother’s shotgun. Jax remained half-hidden by the shadows. Luther leveled the shotgun at Marco’s chest.
“What the hell are you doing, Luther?” the drug dealer asked.
“I don’t want any part of hurting Elita. We have to let her go.”
“Now you sound as crazy as your loony-tunes brother. We let her go and she’ll run straight to the sheriff. Glover will be on us before we get out of Caddo Parrish.” He pointed at Elita. “Is she worth going to jail for the rest of your life?”
Luther shifted from one foot to the other. “I’d rather go to prison than see her hurt.”
“I won’t go to the authorities until tomorrow,” she offered. “That gives you plenty of time to get away.”
“Shut up, bitch!” Marco backhanded her hard.
Elita fell against the corner of the cabin. Ragged log ends jabbed her back. She shrieked in pain, but managed to stay on her feet.
“I told you not to hurt her.” Luther fitted the butt of the shotgun against his shoulder.
“Okay, okay. Just calm down.” Panic tinged Marco’s voice. “She’s lying. You see that, don’t you?”
Luther’s eyes darted from Elita to Marco, as if trying to figure out which one to believe.
“Me and you could handle prison, but could Jax?” Marco asked.
“Why would they lock my brother up? He’s done nothing wrong.”
“He knew what was going on and didn’t report it. That makes him an accessory and he’ll do hard time.”
Elita took a step forward. “Don’t listen to him, Luther. Jax—”
“I told you to shut up.” Marco raised his hand to hit her again, but stopped. He pointed at Jax. “Just look at him. He won’t last a week in the pen.”
Luther looked over at his brother, unwittingly providing the deputy an opening.
Marco drew his revolver.
Elita’s warning scream came just as Marco’s first bullet struck Luther in his side, spinning him around. The second bullet hit Luther in the chest. He staggered backwards. As he fell, Luther pulled the trigger on the shotgun. Both barrels fired into the trees, sending fish crows flying.
Rage surged through Elita’s veins. She lunged at Marco, slamming her fist into his chin.
His body jerked back. His pistol fell to the ground as he struggled to regain his footing. Marco grabbed her by the hair, slapped her hard twice.
Elita shrieked in pain. Her legs trembled, but she stayed on her feet. She tried to knee him in the groin, but he blocked her kick. Cupping both hands, she clawed at him.
Marco yelped as her nails raked his face.
Elita saw his clinched hand coming at her. She ducked. His fist slammed into her shoulder and sent her spinning. She fell backwards into a damp bed of leaves and twigs. The wind knocked out of her, she fought to breathe.
Marco bent to retrieve his pistol. Blood seeped from the claw marks on his face. He walked over to where Elita lay and pointed the revolver at her. “Damn bitch. You’re dead.”
She was going to die. Elita covered her head and waited for the bullet that would end her life. But instead of the explosive sound of a bullet firing, there was a moment of silence, followed by a muted squeal. She looked up.
Jax stood behind Marco, his left arm coiled around the murderer’s neck, as his right hand gripped Marco’s shooting hand. The gun went off. A bullet slammed into the dirt. Jax reared back, lifting the drug dealer off his feet until he dropped his revolver.
Marco gave a faint cry as he tried to pull Jax’s arm from around his throat.
Jax twisted Marco’s head. A sharp, quick jerk. A faint crack. Marco’s body went limp, then slid to a heap on the ground.
Elita wiped at blood oozing down her face. Was Marco dead or unconscious? Everything happened so fast. Was she still in danger?
Jax went to Elita and helped her up. He gently touched her injured cheek. “Does it hurt?”
“Yes.” She flung her arms around his neck,
hugged him tight.
He stiffened, then relaxed, lightly patted her back. “He won’t hurt ya no more.”
“Thanks to you.” Elita kissed his cheek before letting him go.
He blushed, then turned to study Marco’s lifeless body. “He weren’t a good man.”
“You’re right, Jax. He was a very, very bad man.”
“My ma says I’m real good at wringing chicken necks.” Jax smiled. A child-like pride twinkled in his dark eyes. “She says if’n they had a contest at the fair for the bestest chicken neck wringer, I’d win me a blue ribbon.”
Elita’s lower lip quivered. She wanted to cry, to hug her naive hero again. Did he realize he’d taken a life and in doing so, saved hers?
Jax walked to where Luther lay and sat down cross-legged on the ground next to his brother.
Elita stood over Marco’s body, staring at his skewed head, his vacant eyes. Her emotions flitted from fear to relief, from loathing for Marco to grateful admiration for Jax. Shock rendered her numb and motionless.
Crashing sounds in the woods startled Elita out of her stupor. Panic swamped her. Marco had said more cohorts in crime were coming after sunset to move the drugs off the island. They must be early.
Elita looked at Jax. He stared at his brother’s body, seemingly unconcerned about the sounds coming from the woods. His empty shotgun lay where Luther had dropped it.
“Jax,” she hissed. “The others are coming.”
He didn’t answer, didn’t move.
The cracking of dried twigs emanated from the side of the island where she’d left her boat, not from the cove. The thrashing grew louder, closer. Grunting. A loud yelp. Was it Marco’s henchman? Jax’s loup-garou?
She glanced around. No place to hide. No time to run. Her father’s words, ‘my Caddo Warrior Girl,’ echoed in her head. Only one thing to do. Fight!
Elita snatched up Marco’s pistol. Using both hands, she pointed the gun toward the noise, cocked the hammer, and fitted her finger on the trigger.
Jax’s large hand covered hers. He shook his head and carefully pried the firearm out of her hands.
“I need that gun. I need to—”
“Royce.” Jax took the pistol and returned to Luther’s side.
Elita pivoted just as Royce broke through the last barrier of brambles. She bent over, grabbed her stomach. A coil of nausea twirled through her. If Jax hadn’t stopped her, she could’ve shot the man she loved.
Royce ran to her. “Are you okay?”
Elita couldn’t speak. She wrapped her arms around Royce’s waist and sobbed into his chest.
“I heard gunshots. Are you hurt?” He pushed her back, looked at her. “Who hit you, dammit?”
She pointed at Marco’s body.
Blood drained from Royce’s face. He walked over to Marco, kneeled down and checked for a pulse. He ran his hand across the back of the deputy’s neck before checking the rest of Marco’s body. “Broken neck. No blood or gunshot wounds.” Royce stood. “You’re not strong enough to do this. Who killed Deputy Hagar?”
“His name isn’t Hagar. It’s Marco Piccioni and he’s part of the Piccioni crime family.”
Royce tilted his head, lifted a brow. “Piccioni? I thought they stayed in the south, around New Orleans.”
“They’ve been hiding their drugs in our cabin for years.”
“Years? How’s that possible?”
“Luther helped them.”
“Luther Boudreaux?” Royce shook his head. “Why would he help drug dealers?”
“I don’t know why, dammit. I just know he hid the bodies.”
Royce grabbed her shoulders. “You’re not making any sense, Elita.”
“I’m making perfect sense!”
He gently brushed her hair out of her eyes. “Tell me exactly what happened.”
She pointed toward the edge of the clearing. “Go check on Luther first. Marco shot him.”
“Is that Jax with him?”
“Yes.” She grabbed his arm. “Be gentle with him. He saved my life.”
Royce ran his hand over his face. “Did Jax kill the deputy?”
“No! He stopped a murdering drug dealer from killing me.”
Royce pulled her into his embrace. “I should have never let you go.”
Elita wanted him to hold her until the horror of the day disappeared, but this wasn’t the time to give into her fear or his regrets. More monsters were on their way to Duck Island, including the one who’d murdered her father. They needed to move, to get off the island, to get everyone out of harm’s way. She pulled out of his embrace. “We’d better check on Luther.”
Royce dropped to one knee beside Luther, checked for a pulse, shook his head.
“Don’t touch him.” Jax pushed Royce’s hand away. “Ya ain’t supposed to touch him till he wakes up.”
Elita placed a hand on Jax’s shoulder. “Honey, I’m sorry, but Luther is dead. He’s passed.”
He pushed her hand away.
“Elita is right.” Royce pointed at Luther’s blood-soaked shirt. “The bullet hit his heart.”
“Wrong kind of bullet.” Jax got up and retrieved his empty shotgun.
“What do you mean by ‘wrong kind of bullet,’ Jax?” she asked.
“Y’all growed up in the Caddo. Don’t ya remember? Only a silver bullet can kill a loup-garou.” He returned to his place by his brother’s body.
Elita and Royce exchanged confused looks. She squatted down next to Jax. “You said the loup-garou didn’t like me going into the Caddo. Did you mean Luther? Was he stalking me?”
Jax nodded. “A few years back, Luther went down to New Orleans and fell under the spell of a red-haired witch. She cursed him, turned him into a loup-garou, and made him help her bad friends.” He looked at Elita. “Luther is a good man. Sometimes the loup-garou comes out in him and makes him do bad things. But that’s not his fault, is it?”
Jax needed reassurance. Elita owed him an enormous debt, but her father, Dale Butler, and who knows how many others would still be alive if Luther hadn’t helped the Piccioni family. She couldn’t excuse Luther’s actions, but neither could she hurt the man who’d saved her life.
Rising slowly, she said, “As children, we were told that the loup-garou can make good people do bad things.”
Jax smiled, readily accepting her simple reply. He pointed at Marco. “You’d best hide his body before the others come, or else they may get real mad.”
“What’s he talking about, Elita?”
“Three of Marco’s henchmen are coming after sunset to move the drugs.” She pointed at Marco’s body. “He said one of the men coming, Aldo, killed my father.”
Royce jumped up. “You mean Yancy didn’t—”
“He didn’t drown or commit suicide. He found out the Piccioni family stored their drugs in the Caddo and they murdered him.” She handed the small medicine bottle to him. “This belonged to Dale Butler. I found it near the cabin. He took shelter here and they killed him too.”
Royce stared at the bottle. “But we found Dale’s body at Mayhaw Point.”
“Luther found Dale’s body because he put it there. Just like he found Daddy’s body at Moccasin Bayou. Luther made sure none of the bodies were found near Duck Island. He hid them in remote parts of the Caddo and conveniently found the bodies later.”
“Then the search would be called off.” Royce slipped the bottle into his shirt pocket. “We’d better get the hell out of here.”
“What about Jax? He won’t leave his brother.”
“Then we’ll take Luther with us.”
“But Jax won’t let us touch his body, much less move it.”
Royce pointed in the direction of the boats. “I want you to leave now. Call Sheriff Glover, tell him what happened.”
“No! I’m not going anywhere without you two.” Elita slid to her knees to be at eye level with Jax. “I need you to listen to me. More bad men will be here soon.”
Jax broke open his shot
gun, shook out the spent cartridges. “Y’all better git out of here before they come.” He handed Marco’s revolver to Royce. “Don’t much care for little guns.”
Royce stuck the pistol in his belt. “We can’t go without you. Those men will kill you if they find you here.”
Jax took two shells out of the pocket of his vest and loaded his shotgun. “Did ya hide that fellow’s body?”
”I need your help,” Royce said. “You can find a better hiding place than I can.”
Jax snapped his shotgun closed. “Can’t leave Luther alone.”
Royce helped Elita to her feet and whispered, “I’ve got a plan. Follow my lead.”
She nodded.
“Jax, you know the Caddo better than anyone. Could you go with Elita and make sure she gets to Devin’s Cove?”
“Can’t leave Luther.”
“I’ll stay with him while you take her home.”
“Nope. If Luther wakes up and somebody else is here, he’ll be real mad at me. I promised not to tell anybody he’s the loup-garou.”
Royce scrubbed his hand over his face. He looked at Elita and shrugged.
“Jax,” Elita said, “how did you know it was Royce coming through the woods and not the bad men?”
“Only Royce and Luther’s boats have 135 horsepower Mercury motors. I knew it weren’t Luther’s.” He looked at her. “Y’all need to hide that body and git.”
“We can’t leave you here alone. Those men will kill you.”
He leaned his shotgun against his shoulder. “The Caddo takes care of me.”
Royce motioned for Elita to follow him to Marco’s body. “Let’s get this guy out of sight. Grab his feet.”
They moved his body behind the cabin and covered him with leaves and branches.
She placed more leaves over Marco’s body. “It won’t take them long to find him.”
“I know. Elita, you take my boat and get out of here.”
“I’m not leaving without you.”
“You have to go. Take my boat, it’s faster. Call the sheriff and tell him what happened. With a little luck, he and his deputies will get here before Piccioni’s men.”
“If they don’t, you’ll be defenseless.”
“I have a revolver and Jax has a shotgun.”
Shadows of Home: A Woman with Questions. A Man with Secrets. A Bayou without Mercy Page 31