by Emery, Lynn
M.J. looked around as if making sure they had privacy. Even so, she pulled LaShaun farther from the scene. “Have you noticed anything… different about Chase lately?”
“What do you mean?” LaShaun continued to focus on the teenager who’d caused the frenzied search.
“He’s got a hair trigger these days around the station. I thought he was going to slap that Graham kid when we questioned him a few days ago. He gave the father a tongue lashing that had the man shaking in his shoes.” M.J. shook her head. “I’ve never seen him act like that before.”
LaShaun forgot about the Saucier girl and focused on M.J. instead. “Chase has always taken his job seriously.”
“Yeah, he has. But Chase is typically the good cop in the old ‘good cop - bad cop’ routine. Hell, I’ll be glad when this election is over.” M.J. observed her deputies while tapping a fist against her thigh.
“You hit the target; M.J. Chase is under more stress than he wants to let on with this campaign. And he’s been working long days lately,” LaShaun said.
“The last couple of months have been brutal. Greg and his little crew having a party that turned bloody just about capped it,” M.J. said and grunted.
“Yeah,” LaShaun replied with a grimace.
“So far, we haven’t found any of the usual signs they’re experimenting with Satanism or witchcraft.” M.J. crossed her arms. “I’m lighting candles at mass that Vermilion Parish gets back to everyday old crime. You know, common stuff like guys cutting each other up over a woman or drug dealing,” she quipped.
LaShaun raised an eyebrow at her friend. “I hope you’re not implying that I brought some bad mojo with me when I moved back home.”
“Of course not,” M.J. said promptly. Then she gave LaShaun a sideways grin. “But you gotta admit…”
“Here we go,” LaShaun sputtered. “The Rousselle family legend lives on, huh? I’m not inspiring these folks to act crazy.”
M.J. turned somber again. “And Manny Young is trying to get out of prison. He’s almost as much trouble locked up as he was out killing folks. The fun times just keep rolling.”
“Hey, boss lady. We found a few things you wanna take a look at,” Deputy Ricard shouted from a distance. She waved her super-sized flashlight as a guide.
“On my way. Whoa, where you think you goin’? This is an official investigation. Bye.” M.J. pointed the way for LaShaun.
“But maybe I could help…”
“Look, I appreciate the offer. But we can’t give any defense lawyer reasons to say we tampered with evidence, if anything comes of Becky’s little trip. Dave isn’t going to let it drop that Chase brought you along. And those reporters will have a great time bringing up your past adventures.” M.J. held up both palms when LaShaun started to speak. “I’ll have one of my guys take you home.”
LaShaun studied the determined expression on M.J.’s smooth brown face. Standing five feet eight inches in her socks, M.J. cut a formidable figure. She looked more than able to handle trouble, even if her uniform accentuated her female curves. M.J. Arceneaux took her job just as seriously as Chase.
“I promise to get in Chase’s truck and stay there. Just let me know what you find.” LaShaun nodded to M.J.
“No way,” M.J. shot back.
“Okay. Wait a minute. Make a big show of ordering me out of the way.”
“Huh?” M.J. raised both eyebrows and then a smile tugged her full lips up. “Might make Becky and her folks more talkative if they think we’re putting you in your place.”
“LaShaun winked at her. Then she affected a scowl and raised her voice. “Fine, stumble around this case on your own! Just don’t come begging me for help later.”
“I can promise you that won’t happen, LaShaun. You need to leave the crime scene,” M.J. replied just as loudly.
LaShaun strode off wearing a stony expression without looking left or right. She passed a few feet from where the Saucier family stood with Chase. When she went by, Mike Saucier shushed the giggling Becky.
For two hours, LaShaun sat patiently waiting. Finally Chase joined her. He got in the truck, slammed the door, and started the engine. They drove along for ten minutes. Unlike his usual habit, he didn’t turn on the radio or CD player. Listening to Cajun, blues and Zydeco music seemed part of his routine to help him sort through facts. LaShaun had watched him tap his fingers to a tune while mulling over case reports many times. Instead he wore a frown and stared straight-ahead at the road. The dotted yellow painted squares that divided the two-lane highway whizzed by.
“You’re real quiet, honey. You okay?” LaShaun said, breaking the silence.
“This job is starting to wear on my nerves I guess. Kids barely out of diapers dying and getting their kicks in freaky ways… I don’t know. If I wanted to deal with that crap I’d work in a big city department.” Chase let out a long breath.
“That ‘crap’ is all over these days, including rural parishes like ours. But at least we get it in small doses,” LaShaun replied in an attempt to console him.
“I’ll bet Elliot’s mama doesn’t think it’s so small. This stuff is even giving me nightmares.” Chase shook his head.
LaShaun felt a familiar sensation, like an army of ants with tiny electrified feet marching up both arms. Her stomach tightened as she resisted the urge to claw her own skin. She glanced down to reassure herself and saw nothing on the back of her hands or on her forearms. Instead she centered all of her attention on Chase. Suddenly, a curtain dropped between them. Like a television monitor, the image of a wooded area appeared. A soft blue haze pulsated within it. Then the vision flicked off as though someone had hit the “Off” button. LaShaun rubbed her forehead.
“You look a little wobbly, cher. You okay?” Chase frowned at her, concern on his handsome face.
“What kind of nightmares, Chase?” LaShaun said sharply.
“Never mind about that now, you…”
“I’m fine. Tell me about the dreams you’re having. It will help you to talk about them,” she pressed. When he slowed the truck and looked at her hard, LaShaun put a hand on his arm.
“Most of them I don’t remember clearly. They start with me falling into a dark hole. While I’m going down, weird symbols flash by. I can hear voices, and then it’s only one voice. I can’t tell if it’s a man or a woman.” Chase paused to grin at her. “I’m not cheatin’ on you in my dreams, cher. I swear.”
LaShaun forced a smile back at him. “You better not be. What happens next?”
Chase didn’t answer immediately. He concentrated on turning east at the intersection of Highway 35 and onto Highway 14. “After a while I get this sensation of being lost, like I’ll never find my way out of a dark place. It’s kind of hard to describe, but all I can remember is fighting to hold on.”
“Like you’re lost in the woods or something?” LaShaun’s heart drummed in her chest with such intensity she winced.
“Not exactly. I don’t know. Pretty crazy, huh?” Chase gave a nervous chuckle.
LaShaun winced a second time. The powerful anxiety he felt seeped into her pores as well. She squeezed his arm a little tighter. “You’re the most steady, feet-on-the-ground guy I know, Chase Broussard. The stress of the election and working double shifts would give anybody nightmares.”
“Yeah, well I need to get it together. Going after Dave like that was a stupid move. M.J. is right. I need to take off a couple of days to re-charge, and do some damage control for when that story makes the rounds.” Chase smiled at LaShaun. He took one hand off the wheel to give her thigh a quick pat. “That means you’ll be stuck with me.”
“I look forward to it,” LaShaun said and smiled back at him.
For the rest of the ride to her house they shared a comfortable silence as the dark countryside slipped by. She would make Chase’s time off from work as relaxing and enjoyable as possible. LaShaun knew Chase’s real worry, that post traumatic stress episodes from three tours in Afghanistan would cripple him. She
actually hoped his behavior and nightmares came from PTSD. LaShaun feared the cause came from a more sinister source, one not from this world. Had the evil called forth by her ancestors returned?
Chapter 7
For two days LaShaun monitored every move Chase made, every expression and every mood he displayed. Not even the newspaper and television stories of “a heated exchange between the two candidates for sheriff” seemed to bother him. Friday morning, Chase woke LaShaun from a sound sleep in a most delicious way. Wrapped in flannel sheets, LaShaun had made her master bedroom his sanctuary.
“I’m going to be pulling more over time in the next few days,” Chase murmured as he nuzzled LaShaun’s neck. “I need a nice, hot memory to get me through the chilly nights of fighting crime.”
“Candidate Broussard, you’re supposed to be motivated by a passion for justice,” LaShaun replied and wiggled against his hard body.
“I’ve got a passion for a lot of things; justice is only one of ‘em, cher.”
Chase slipped his hand between her thighs. He stroked her flesh and moved his hand up. With a light touch, he caressed her mound for a few seconds before using his fingers to slowly drive her insane with desire. His tongue circled first one nipple and then the other, back and forth as his fingers worked a kind of magic she’d never felt before. Within the next hour Chase thrilled her with three different positions, each one more exotic. At last he stood above her as she lay on the edge of the bed, her legs stretched up against his chest. The rhythm of his thrusts kept time to her moans. As she grew more frenzied, Chase would slow down. When she couldn’t stand it any longer, LaShaun tried to take control, grinding her hips to satisfy a cavernous hunger. She clawed to hold onto him when Chase pulled out. But she was rewarded moments later when he pulled the comforter to the floor. On his back, he guided her to sit in his lap. LaShaun wrapped her legs around him as Chase lifted them both. His tongue circled both nipples again until she screamed with pleasure. Waves of ecstasy seemed to go on forever as she moved up and down, faster until nothing existed except the motion that satisfied her cavernous need.
“Take control, baby. I’m yours,” Chase whispered, urging her on with his own intense thrusting.
“I need every inch of you,” LaShaun gasped and dug her fingers into the hard flesh of his shoulders.
Her moans answered his shouts urging her on. Their voices intertwined in the special language of love and sexual pleasure. When Chase exploded inside her LaShaun came again, every nerve ending on fire. When her movements slowed and stilled, LaShaun let out a shuddering sigh. After a few minutes he used his powerful legs to stand up with LaShaun in his arms. He eased them both back onto the bed. LaShaun blinked away tears as she trembled against him.
“How did I exist without you?” she whispered softly. “I will be yours forever.”
Chase gave a deep chuckle and stroked her hair as LaShaun drifted into a semi-conscious dream state. A vision of them lying on a wide bed with a beautiful rattan headboard in a room with an ocean view popped into her head. Eyes closed, LaShaun smiled and savored the floating sensation. A beach breeze made gauze curtains framing a window flutter, their private tropical paradise.
“Mwen vle viv andedan ou,” a deep voice said softly, wrapping around her. (“I want to live inside you”)
“J’taime,” LaShaun replied.
She gazed up into fiery almond-shaped green eyes. Her feeling of joy turned to panic. LaShaun tried to pull away, but her body seemed numb. Her limbs would not move. She tried to cry out but no sound came from her lips. The eyes sparkled, and then darkened into a light brown that gradually grew darker.
“Hey, sleepy girl. I know how irresistible I am, but loosen this death grip on me. I gotta go to work.”
LaShaun’s eyes popped open to find Chase smiling down at her. She blinked at him as her heart beat so hard her chest ached. Pushing him away, LaShaun stared at him. “What did you say?”
Chase got out of bed. “I’m going back to the grind of being a peace officer. I can’t lay around lovin’ on you all the time.”
When he started for the bathroom, LaShaun caught him by the arm. “No, I mean before. You were speaking Creole.”
“Honey, with the moves you made I wouldn’t doubt I was speaking French and every other kind of language.” Chase winked at her and then kissed her hand. He turned away and opened a dresser. “With all the clothes I’ve left here it makes our decision easier ‘bout which house we’ll live in, huh? I feel right at home.”
LaShaun jumped out of the bed and pulled him back around to face her. “Chase, you were speaking Haitian Creole, and, and your eyes changed color.”
“That was some crazy dream,” Chase said with a laugh, but it died away as he gazed back at her. He wrapped his arms around LaShaun. “Cher, you’re shivering.”
“We were in a house on the beach, but it wasn’t any place I’ve ever been. I can still hear the sound of waves.” LaShaun looked up into Chase’s eyes desperate to see the familiar, the man she knew. “I want you to be safe.”
“Baby, you’re kinda freakin’ me out here. Like I said, you had a weird dream, that’s all. You’ve had them before.” Chase spoke in a soothing tone as he gently rocked her.
“And we know what happens, too. I get those visions and then…”
LaShaun swallowed hard. She took having visions in stride, even when she saw horrible things. Sometimes she could almost start fires as heat flowed from her finger tips. Monmon Odette had taught LaShaun early about the Rousselle family legacy. Her grandmother had schooled LaShaun on how to direct her ‘gifts’, marveling at how strong they became with time. None of those skills had ever frightened her, not even as a child. But this was very different. Never had a vision come so close to home.
Chase kissed her lightly on the tip of her nose and slapped her rear end. “Baby, you were sound asleep. That was a dream, a really weird one, but still just a dream. Now I’m gonna shower and get down the road before my boss calls asking why I haven’t shown up. We’re going to interview one of Greg Graham’s friends. See if we can find out what the hell these kids are playin’ at out in the woods.”
With a shake of his head, Chase padded on bare feet to the master bathroom. He continued to talk about routine matters. LaShaun didn’t answer him. Instead she sat on the edge of the bed thinking about the “dream” as Chase insisted. He seemed to be himself again, a fact that helped LaShaun not totally come unglued. For the first time in months she felt the sharp pain of not having her grandmother in this world. Monmon Odette would be a source of strength, and knowledge right now.
“So I’m hopin’ we can wrap up this case and figure out who killed that poor Dubois boy. To top it off, the coroner says he could have had a fall. But I don’t buy it. Nope, that kid was murdered and…” Chase stood wearing only his briefs. He gazed at LaShaun with a grin. “You’re still sitting here naked, babe?”
LaShaun sat blinking rapidly and looked down. She was sitting in the middle of the queen-sized bed in a lotus position as though meditating. “What? Oh, I was just giving you some space to get ready.”
“Thank you, darlin’. The last two days did wonders clearing my head, that’s for sure.”
Chase pinched her cheek. Then he sat down on one of the stuffed chairs, pulled on his socks, and stood again to step into a pair of black denim pants. Five minutes later, he was fully dressed. LaShaun took a shower. She quickly dressed in jeans and a soft flannel shirt. When she went to the kitchen, Chase was already on his phone getting an update. He liked knowing what had been happening at the station even before he walked in the door.
“I’m going to fix us breakfast,” LaShaun whispered to him.
“Don’t worry about it. I heated up one of those frozen sausage biscuits and made some coffee to go. I’m running behind as it is.” Chase kissed her mouth. “I’ll see you later.”
LaShaun put her arms around his waist. “Hey, I noticed you’re not being specific. I guess that means I won
’t see you for a few days.”
“It’s crazy, honey, so I can’t make promises. I just talked to Bo. He says we got more trouble, but said he’d let M.J. and Dave tell me.” Chase stepped away. He pulled on his department issued jacket and zipped it up. The Vermilion Parish Sheriff’s Department emblem was stamped on the back.
“Show ‘em what you got, but be careful. In a few short weeks, you’ll be in charge. M.J. will gladly hand you the keys to that place,” LaShaun said with a laugh.
Chase shrugged. “We’ll see. Old Dave has more than a few friends in this parish. You get back to planning our wedding.” He headed for the door.
“Oh Lord, don’t remind me. Katie and Adrianna have sent me at least fifteen e-mails, a piece. I don’t think the royal wedding in England was this much trouble.” LaShaun groaned. “And we’re running out of time, at least that’s what they keep telling me.”
“It’s still only February, sweetie. Don’t let those two gang up on you. Keep it simple. We both agreed.” Chase pointed a finger at her. “If you need back-up, just let me know. We’ll face those two down.”
“Thanks, cher. We have the location, under the historic oaks of Broussard ancestral lands. We’ll have the reception right there on your patio and…”
“Our patio, sweetheart,” Chase corrected her, but looked at his smart phone again reading a text.
“Gotta get used to that, and so does your mama,” LaShaun quipped in a soft voice.
“Huh?” Chase tapped out a reply to someone at the station.
“Nothing. Go make Vermilion Parish safe from crazed teenagers.”
Chase gave a grunt. “Bye.”
With one last kiss, LaShaun sent him out of the door. She waved at him through the kitchen window as he turned the new Dodge Ram truck in a circle and drove away. LaShaun ate a light breakfast while she watched the morning news. Relieved not to hear more weird developments in Beau Chene or Vermilion Parish, she pulled up the to-do list on her tablet. She stared at it for a good ten minutes without enthusiasm. Her thoughts were still on her “dream”. The doorbell startled LaShaun out of her reverie. When she went to the front door she got another surprise.