Then Dani ceased to think at all, only sitting there as a peace flowed over her spirit. She knew it was not of her mind or of her emotions, but was a work of the Spirit of God. It was one of the fruits of the Spirit mentioned in Galatians, and had always been especially precious to Dani.
Finally she whispered, “Lord, what must I do about Ben?”
The question had been in her mind, buried not too deeply beneath her conscious thought patterns ever since he’d asked her to marry him. From time to time the matter would surface, catching her off guard, but she had been unable to pray about the matter until now.
“Do you want me to marry him?”
No answer came.
The quietness of the sanctuary cloaked her, and though she strained every spiritual sense in her heart—nothing.
A slight case of irritation came to Dani—a trace of the old Dani Ross she’d never lost, and she said crankily, “Well, do you want this for me or not?”
A black-robed priest came from a side room, walked across the front of the church, lit a candle, and then disappeared. The sobbing of the woman grew louder, and someone behind Dani coughed raggedly.
But still no answer came—not a word or a hint.
Dani clenched her fists, fighting down the impatience that rose in her and forcing herself to relax. When she had recovered her sense of peace, she smiled at her own foolishness. “I’m sorry, Lord. You know how I am—always wanting a quick answer. You’ll just have to help me with this temper of mine.” She sat there for a few seconds, then said, “Ben—or no Ben. Whatever you want, God, will suit me fine!”
She rose and left the cathedral, noting that the sun was brighter than when she’d entered. A band of sparrows was quarreling and fighting over the remains of a muffalata someone had dropped on the sidewalk, and she smiled at them, saying, “Take it easy, boys.” Dani then got into her car and threaded the narrow, crowded streets back to Bourbon Street.
“Is it all right for Ben to come in, Miss Ross?”
Dani looked up from the stack of papers she was working on as Angie Park’s voice came over the intercom. Flipping the switch on her desk, she said, “Yes, send him in.” She leaned back, arching her back, wondering why the sudden formality. Savage usually came walking into her office as though it were his. But as he entered and she saw the woman with him, her attention sharpened.
“This is Sunny Sloan,” Savage nodded. “Sunny, this is Miss Danielle Ross.”
Dani rose, smiled, and put out her hand, saying, “I’m a fan of yours, Miss Sloan. I thought your special on the plight of the inner city was very well done.”
“Oh—so nice of you to say that,” Sunny beamed. She was wearing a close-fitting, two-piece knit outfit that showed off her figure admirably, and was obviously pleased by the recognition. “Sometimes I wonder if anybody ever sees anything I do.”
Dani nodded toward a chair, saying, “Sit down, won’t you? Would you like some coffee or tea?”
“Oh, nothing for me. Ben and I just had lunch.”
Dani waited, curious as she studied the woman, and Ben said quickly, “I think you ought to hear what Sunny’s run up against, Boss.”
Then, as the young woman spoke rapidly, Dani leaned back and listened. She had an unusual ability to strain what people said, picking out the crucial facts and, at the same time, forming a judgment of the speaker. Sunny Sloan was a professional communicator, which made this more difficult. As was true with all her breed, she could make unimportant things sound very important, and was adept at swaying the minds and judgments of those she spoke to.
When Sunny ended by saying, “. . . and while I’m not usually a very nervous person, I have to admit I’m scared of what’s happening—so I went to see Ben.”
Dani stared at her, then glanced toward Savage. “Have you two known each other long?”
For the first time something stirred Sunny’s smooth cheeks. Dani saw it instantly—just a flicker of the eyes and a quick protective tightening of the lips—and knew that she was about to hear a lie.
“Oh, I met him at a party some time back,” Sunny nodded, and the professional smile was back. “Where was it, Ben—in the Garden District someplace?”
Savage glanced at Sunny with a sudden sharpness, but said nothing.
She’s lying! The thought flashed through Dani’s mind, but she allowed nothing to show in her face. Casually she looked toward Ben, but nothing showed on his craggy face. He’s stolid as an Indian—but they know each other, she thought. Aloud she said, “What are you going to do, Sunny? May I call you that?”
“Oh, yes!” Sunny bit her lip, then shook her head, slight doubt reflected in her eyes. “I had some sort of idea about hiring a bodyguard, but that would be terribly expensive.”
“Yes, it does cost quite a bit.”
Sunny moved her shoulders slightly, as though put off by Dani’s brief reply. She glanced at Savage, who gave her no help, then turned back to face Dani. “I’ve thought about it, and maybe we could work together.”
“In what way?” Dani inquired.
“Well, you’re interested in the Eddie Prejean case, aren’t you?”
“Ben told you that?”
“Well, yes, he did.” Sunny noted the sudden critical look that Dani gave Savage, and added quickly, “He told me after I’d mentioned that my story involved the DEQ—and perhaps even the upper layers of state government.”
“You mean Governor Russell?”
“I think it could involve him—as well as others.” Sunny’s face became intense and she spoke forcefully, throwing herself into an attitude of persuasion. “Look, you want to dig up something that’ll clear Eddie Prejean. I want to stay alive.”
Dani looked at the young woman, then at Savage. “Well, Ben—” she said softly. “You’re not saying much.”
Savage looked uncomfortable, and his shoulders stirred restlessly. “It’s up to you, but I think we might do some swapping. We’ve only got a few days before the execution—if Russell doesn’t put it off.”
“He won’t do that!” Sunny said quickly. “He’s a hard-liner on public execution—and he’ll be especially anxious to dust off Eddie Prejean.”
“Why is that?” Dani demanded.
“Because he’s white,” Sunny nodded. “The last eleven executions have been black men, and the howl is going up about prejudice in the judicial system. Russell’s anxious to change the statistics on it.”
Dani nodded, knowing this was true. She sat there thinking rapidly, then said, “I don’t know how you can help much, Miss Sloan.”
“I know state government, Dani,” Sunny said quickly. “And I know the Department of Environmental Quality. I’ve put in a lot of hours with those two groups—and the proof that I’ve done it well is that someone is trying to shut me up. After talking to Ben, I’m convinced it’s all tied up with Eddie Prejean. They want to stop both of us from talking.”
“Might be something in that, Boss,” Ben observed. “I’m not much good with these government types. Way I see it, somebody needs to go see that witness who’s hiding out in the swamp.”
“Bejay Guidry?” Dani thought of her visit to the Leonard, then nodded. “I’d planned to go find him tomorrow.” She hesitated, then added, “I thought we’d both go out there, Ben.”
Sunny said quickly, “I don’t want to seem pushy, Dani, but how about this—there are some people I think can help us in the DEQ. If I can get them away from the job, I think they’ll talk. But I’m a little leery after getting nearly run down. If you’d let Ben go with me—?”
Dani considered the young woman, almost shook her head in a curt denial, but then thought again. “All right,” she said. “Ben, you go with her, and I’ll talk to Bejay.”
Savage ducked his head, then lifted it. “Don’t like for you to go poking around alone, Boss.”
Dani smiled tersely. “As I remember, you’re not at your best in a pirogue, Ben. Remember when you came to find me at the camp?” When she saw Savage
redden, she added sweetly, “Ben fell into the water back in the bayou and bumped into an alligator—or what he thought was a gator. He nearly killed himself getting to shore. But it was just a log, wasn’t it, Ben?”
Savage glared at her. “You never forget, do you? And there are worse things than gators running around.”
Dani enjoyed his discomfort, and stood up. “I’ll take my chances in the bayou. You try to get something we can use in the capitol.”
“Oh, thank you, Dani!” Sunny got to her feet and took Ben’s arm possessively. “Ben and I will work well together.”
“I can see that,” Dani said dryly, drawing a startled glance from Savage. “Let’s meet tomorrow night—say at six o’clock.”
“Where’ll we rendezvous?” Savage asked.
“Ralph ’n Kacoo’s will do,” Dani answered. She nodded toward the young woman, saying, “Sunny, I need to speak privately with Ben. Would you mind waiting in the outer office?”
“Of course.”
As soon as the woman was outside, Dani turned to face Savage, and there was a sharp bite in her tone as she demanded, “All right, let’s have it.”
“Have what?”
“Come on, Ben! That piece of fluff is lying.”
Savage rarely showed embarrassment, but he did so now. “Yeah, she is—but I don’t know why.” He tried to grin, and said in a rather awed fashion, “You’ve got a built-in lie detector, Boss!”
“What were you two? Lovers?”
Savage blinked in surprise, and was slightly angered. “What difference does it make?” He peered at Dani more closely, and demanded, “Are you jealous?”
“Jealous?” Dani sniffed. “No, I’m not jealous. But I need to know what’s going on. You’re working for me, you know.”
Savage was amused and said, “That’s right, I am. And I forgot to give you last month’s report on my love life. Sorry about that.”
“Don’t be a fool, Ben,” Dani said sharply. “This thing could get bad, and I need to know this woman.”
Savage shrugged, saying, “Sure, I guess that’s right. We went out a few times. Don’t know why she lied, though. Maybe she was afraid you wouldn’t help her if you knew we’d been holding hands.”
Dani wasn’t satisfied with his reply and said so. “She’s a dish, Ben, but she’s pretty tough. You don’t get to the top in her business unless you’re pretty hard.”
“You think she’s trying to pull something?”
Dani shook her head, but doubt was in her eyes. “I don’t know. Just be careful, Ben.”
“Yeah, you too, Boss,” Savage said. He cocked his head to one side, then asked almost plaintively, “You’re not even a little jealous? Just this much?” He held up his hand with his thumb and index finger about half an inch apart. “I’d be jealous if you were going to spend the day with that good-looking guy on Channel 4—the one with the spiffy hair job and the caps on his teeth.”
Dani smiled, but shook her head. “No point my being jealous of her, Ben. She’s going up in the world, our Sunny is. She wouldn’t anchor herself with a small-time PI.”
Savage nodded, a glint of admiration in his eyes. “You’ve read her pretty well, Boss.”
“She dump you, Ben?”
“Like an old shoe.”
“Well, you’ve got all day tomorrow. Turn on the old charm.” Dani smiled and came to stand beside Savage. “Maybe she’ll make you her paid escort. You can go to fancy parties with her and bring her things when she wants them.”
“Like an organ grinder and his monkey, that it?” Savage had a slight grin on his face, but suddenly it vanished. “Thinking any about my offer, Dani?”
Dani stared at him uncertainly, then nodded. “It won’t go away, Ben.” She reached out and touched his cheek on an impulse. “I really am jealous of Miss Wonderful out there,” she said softly. “Even if I don’t get you, I want something better for you than her.”
Savage took her hand, held it lightly, then nodded. “I wish I had lots of flowery words,” he said quietly. “Hard for me to say what I feel.”
Dani stood there, enjoying the warmth of his hand surrounding hers, then said with an impish grin. “Write me a poem.”
“I’ll have to buy a greeting card and steal one.”
“I want it to rhyme. Moon—June—spoon—!”
“Don’t they all?”
Dani pulled her hand back, saying, “Get out of here. I have work to do.”
“Yeah—and don’t forget, there are bad guys out there,” Savage nodded as he turned to go. “Watch yourself.”
When the door closed, Dani walked over and looked up at the picture of her Confederate ancestor. “What should I do, Colonel Ross?”
But the stern-eyed man who gazed down at her said nothing, and Dani sighed heavily, returning to her stack of papers.
6
Cabin in the Bayou
* * *
The buzz of a low-flying plane brought Dani out of a fitful sleep with an agonizing abruptness. She sat straight up, staring around her bedroom, her back arched and her eyes filled with the fading visions of early morning dreams. For a wedge of time that measured the vanishing dream with a Doppler effect, she sat there, her lips stretched wide and her neck pulled into tightened strings with the silent scream she held back. Then the outlines of her room—vague and shadowy like a ghostly edifice—sharpened and leaped into focus.
Throwing back the covers, she leaped out of the bed as though it were a snake pit, and quickly switched on the lamp beside her bed. The harsh light hurt her eyes and she shut them for a few seconds, then opened them into slits. Stripping off her nightgown as she moved toward the shower, she tossed it into a woven clothes hamper, then turned the cold water handle of the shower on full force. She put her hair under a shower cap, took a deep breath, and stepped under the cold spray. It took her breath away, and for a moment all she could do was stand there as her body rebelled against the cold.
The shock of the cold water drove away the immediacy of the rough awakening, and soon she began to add hot water. Slowly she tempered the needle-like spray, and soaped liberally, the delicious warmth running over her body. She lingered in the shower for ten minutes, then stepped out and dried herself with a fluffy yellow towel.
Only then did she move back into the bedroom and glance at the clock. It was only fifteen after four—too early, but she liked the cool, cobwebby hours of the morning. She brushed her heavy auburn hair, leaving it down over her shoulders. Thinking about the day’s schedule, she put on light makeup and chose her clothing accordingly—a pair of stonewashed Levis, a long-sleeved blue-and-white checked cotton shirt, and a pair of thick-soled running shoes.
When she was dressed, she sat down, picked up her Bible, and read slowly for twenty minutes, plodding through a few chapters of the Book of Leviticus. She was reading the Bible all the way through, and after the thrilling adventures set forth in Genesis and Exodus, she found the long, involved prose of Leviticus tedious. She had reached the eleventh chapter and forced herself to read a list of animals that the ancient Jews were forbidden to eat—and was interested to see that they included catfish, pigs, and rabbits. She read in verse thirteen that the Jews were not to eat “. . . the eagle, and the ossifrage, and the ospray.” She wondered vaguely what an ossifrage might be, then plodded on. The next few chapters gave detailed instructions on what an Israelite must do to get a case of leprosy diagnosed.
As Dani read doggedly on, she wondered why God had given such things as part of the Bible. She could understand why a nomadic people would need dietary laws and other instructions concerning various activities, but what did it all have to do with her? She had no answer, and read such parts of the Bible with hope, rather than with understanding. It was her conclusion that the Old Testament, with all its wealth of poetry, history, law, and prophecy was written to give the world a picture of the struggle of man. She remembered her father had once told her that his favorite book in the Bible was Genesis. Noting her
surprise at this, he’d said, If we didn’t have that book, Dani, we wouldn’t have the slightest notion about where we came from. We wouldn’t know why the world is so devastated. And we wouldn’t know about the great plan of redemption that God began to work with Abraham.
Dani finally read a verse that leapt out at her: For the life of the flesh is in the blood: and I have given it to you upon the altar to make an atonement for your souls: for it is the blood that maketh an atonement for the soul.
That verse sent a sudden thrill along Dani’s nerves—as verses did from time to time. She had a sense of the concept of blood—scarlet blood from thousands of slain animals. The Old Testament reeked with the blood of bulls and goats and birds. The priests slew them until it seemed a river of blood must flow over the altars of the temple! And as she thought of this, she remembered the verse in the New Testament that always awed her, leaving her weak and mystified by the enormity of its cosmic implication: For this is my blood of the new testament, which is shed for the remission of sins.
Dani closed the Bible, the verse ringing in her spirit, and said a brief prayer, “Thank you, Lord, for giving me this part of your Word. And this day may I remember that it is only by your blood that I am forgiven for all my sins.”
She rose, strapped on her .38 with distaste, then plucked a long white nylon jacket and a white-billed cap to match out of her closet, and left the bedroom. The house was quiet, and she moved to the kitchen as softly as possible. It would be a long day, with food an uncertainty, so she began throwing a quick breakfast together. She was frying an egg when her mother came in wearing a chenille robe. “It’s so early, Dani,” she protested.
“I’ve got to go to Baton Rouge, Mom,” Dani said. She flipped the egg over, studied it carefully, then slipped it onto a plate. “I’ll be late. May have to stay over.”
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