by Lynn Emery
“That’s the first sign you’re on your own,” LaShaun said.
Azalei turned back toward the porch and walked closer to it. “I don’t need him or anybody else to handle my business. Unlike most of Beau Chene, I’m not scared of you, LaShaun. Not even a little bit.”
“Then you’re more of a stupid bitch than I am, because I’m gonna send you to prison. Right after I whip your silly ass.” LaShaun came down the steps at a leisurely pace and closed the distance between them. “Poor Rita underestimated how lowdown and sneaky you can be. She was too trusting.” LaShaun’s voice broke as she spoke of her cousin.
“Don’t get too sentimental about ‘poor’ Rita, sugar. She was ready to plant a knife in your back to get Monmon’s estate.” Azalei wore a nasty grin.
“You played on her insecurity and childhood resentment, didn’t you?” LaShaun balled both of her hands into fists. “I’ll bet you were very patient at rubbing her wounds with salt.”
“It wasn’t hard. The old lady made it so obvious you were the golden child in this family. Rita knew that like the rest of us.”
“So you pulled her into your grimy little schemes. Then you played a trump card and got Quentin to romance her. What happened? Did Rita find out that it was all a set up?” LaShaun asked.
“Speaking of stupid, she actually thought Quentin was in love with her. Unfortunately, she got a conscience when we started doing some serious business deals. I just needed the investment capital and –”
“Shut the hell up,” Quentin drawled from the Lexus. He finally got out of the SUV. “Your big mouth got us into this mess.”
Azalei spun around. “Correction, your sleazy sexual habits and slimy friends got us into this. I tried to tell you hiring that trailer park trash to deal with LaShaun was a bad idea.”
Quentin surprised both women by laughing. He walked past Azalei toward LaShaun. “I have no idea what she’s talking about, sweetie.”
“I hope you don’t think he’s in love with you,” LaShaun retorted.
“Quentin is in love with power and money, in that order. He’ll stay with me as long as I have both,” Azalei replied and tossed her long auburn weave.
“Rita found out Quentin was sleeping with you, too, and that she’d had been used. Once Rita realized what scum you both are she decided not to play your game. So she had to die.”
LaShaun forced herself to unclench her hands. The tension and wrath coursing through her would weaken her focus. A flash of light to her left came from deep within the woods. Was the loa here with them? She fingered the gris-gris in her left hand and recited one of the short prayers an ancestor had written in her journal.
“C’mon. Taking you down is turning out to be too easy.” Azalei threw back her head and laughed. “Your poor innocent Rita tried to blackmail Quentin into letting her in on some of his business deals. Being greedy and dumb is a fatal combination.”
“More motive. Just keep talking, cousin. Dig that hole deeper.” LaShaun saw another movement to her left. “But who attacked you? That’s what I don’t understand.”
Azalei lost the look of boldness for the first time. “Something happened that night. Those fools were supposed to go after Rita, mess her up. Not kill her and attack me. They started off following the script, then they snapped.”
“Are you sure your boyfriend didn’t decide to get rid of two problems in one night?” LaShaun felt a familiar tingle. She got flashes of insight. Then she studied the spooked expression Azalei wore. “Those two are sleaze bags, but they’re also cowards. Someone told them they had to do more than rough you and Rita up. Did you even see who knocked you out that night?”
“Cut the bull, LaShaun. Your days of being Miss It are over.” Azalei’s eyes narrowed.
LaShaun gave a short, contemptuous laugh. “That’s what I thought. Jerry and his stupid pal ran off. When you woke up was he there? I’ll bet there was a mist all around and you felt a chill. But he convinced you that he’d come in time to save you, didn’t he? Said he had a feeling Jerry and his friend couldn’t be trusted to do the right thing.”
“How’d you know? Wait a minute. Don’t try that voodoo hoodoo ghost story shit on me. You and Monmon Odette might have fooled everybody else, but the family knows it’s all a bunch of fake crap.” Azalei started at a night sound. She looked around her sharply, as though noticing for the first time that she was way out in the country at night.
“He came to make sure you were both dead, but you hid thinking it was Jerry coming back. I’ll bet Quentin was stunned when you got in touch with him.” LaShaun glanced back and forth between them.
“This little play has been almost amusing to watch, but let’s get down to business,” Quentin said. He dropped the cigar and ground it into the gravel with one heel. “Sorry, but there’s too much at stake to let you go running around telling wild stories.”
“You can’t really believe I’d bring you out here and not have back up,” LaShaun said calmly.
“You’re the one left hanging, LaShaun. Your man Broussard is probably somewhere hoping his chances to get elected aren’t completely shot,” Azalei said.
“No, ma’am, actually I’m right here. I arrived just in time to hear every last word.” Chase stepped from the shadows. He’d been hiding on the far side of the porch around the west corner of the house.
“Too bad nobody will listen, Deputy Broussard,” Azalei spat. “Your credibility will be zero once everyone knows you’re banging the voodoo queen.”
“You could be right.” Chase kept his calm southern gentleman tone. “But even a rural sheriff’s department is high tech these days.”
Azalei looked at Quentin. Her smile froze. “What are you talking about?”
“I carry a video camera in my cruiser. These little things fit in the palm of my hand. But I can also mount them anywhere.” Chase swept out one arm. “Try to guess where it is.”
“That’s a pretty pitiful bluff,” Azalei said. Still her gaze darted at the darkness.
“Smile for the camera, cousin,” LaShaun replied.
A powerful motor rumbled as headlights swung around. The newcomer pulled up beneath a swath of light from the huge lamp behind Monmon Odette’s house. A Vermillion Parish sheriff’s department cruiser parked beside the Lexus. Deputy Gautreau emerged with a nine millimeter Glock in his hand. LaShaun heard Chase let out a soft hiss.
“Glad you got here, buddy. I know who killed Rita. I’ve got it all recorded.” Chase didn’t move toward his colleague despite his words. “So that means everything has changed.
“You’re right, bro. Things have definitely changed. Throw your gun over here, and move slow so I don’t think you’re going to shoot me. Do it now.” Gautreau pointed the gun at LaShaun’s head.
When Chase tossed the gun away, Quentin retrieved it and walked over to stand next to Gautreau. “You didn’t really think I’d come out here with no back-up did you?”
“My cousin lured me out here saying she just wanted to talk, to make peace. Instead she attacked me again forcing Deputy Gautreau to shoot her and her lover,” Azalei said, her voice shaking. Then she smiled. “That’s exactly what I’m going to tell the DA and the media. I might even get a made for TV movie deal out of this, along with Monmon Odette’s estate. I don’t have to share it with anybody now that ‘poor’ Rita is gone.”
“You really think these two will let you leave here still breathing, Azalei? They didn’t want to share the goodies with Rita. What makes you different?” LaShaun nodded toward the two men.
“Nice try, LaShaun. They both know I have the keys to every closet that hides their skeletons,” Azalei tossed back.
“Exactly,” Quentin snapped.
He walked over to Azalei and shoved her hard. She went flying, and then stumbled. She found her footing, but also ended up closer to LaShaun and Chase than her conspirators. When she started toward Quentin, he aimed Chase’s gun at her.
“You’re so right, baby. Being greedy and dumb i
s a lethal combination.” Quentin grinned at her.
“They’re going to toss you into the bayou and let the gators take care of the evidence. Right, Quentin? Of course, you tried that with your grandfather, and they found him too soon. Or maybe even the gators didn’t like the taste of a putrid Trosclair.” LaShaun tried to keep the attention on her as Chase inched to a thick gardenia bush.
“I always loved that wicked tongue of yours.” Quentin smacked his lips and winked at her.
LaShaun stared at her former lover with disgust. “What did I ever see in you?”
“The same thing your cousins saw, darlin’. Money, influence, and some of the hottest sex you’ll ever get. You know, I envy you, Chase. LaShaun is one sweet piece.” Quentin looked at Chase steadily as he spoke. “I’d give you x-rated details, Deputy Broussard, but we’ve got more important business right now.”
Chase snarled at him. “You’re a high-class of piece of trash.”
“Don’t move, man, or I’ll drop you right here and now.” Gautreau pointed the Glock at Chase. The red laser point landed on Chase’s chest. “Clear shot.”
“Don’t be a fool, Brad. These two killed Rita, and I’ve got it on tape,” Chase said. “You could still cut a deal. I think they pulled you into something darker than you knew how to handle.”
“Oh, I know how to handle it all right. We just gotta clean up loose ends. I can have it all.” Gautreau replied with a frown.
Quentin shook his head no. “Just shut up, and let’s get on with it. We’ve got to find that dash cam he’s got hidden around here.
“We’ll have time to look when it gets light,” Brad replied without taking his gaze or gun off Chase. “First things we dump the garbage.”
“More than one video cam, fellas,” Chase called out. “So, Brad. You’re in this whole dirty deal, huh?”
“Brad is definitely involved up to his thick neck, maybe he planned it all. You’re not as dense as you look. Quentin, you’ll have to watch your back for a long, long time.” LaShaun tried to distract them from Chase again.
“Your concern warms my heart. But don’t worry, sweetie. I’ll be just fine.” Quentin walked around as casually as he spoke, as though he had no care at all.
“Too bad you and your cousins got into it over money. Tragic, all three of you dying because of greed,” Gautreau said.
“Quentin, baby, c’mon. My grandmother’s property will most likely come to me.” Azalei’s voice cracked with desperation. “Remember all those shale formations and the millions we’ll get from natural gas?”
“My lawyers tell me your grandmother didn’t make sure she had clear ownership of the mineral rights. So I don’t need you,” Quentin replied.
“Explaining two dead women and a dead fellow deputy is going to be tough even for you, Brad,” Chase said.
“I’ll manage. The Rousselle family doesn’t exactly have the best reputation, and your questionable behavior getting involved with a suspect will round out the story nicely,” Brad said. “Now move away from that bush or I’ll start by shooting your woman in the gut. That’s a slow painful way to die.”
Azalei let out a series of terrified squeaks before she was able to speak. “Quentin, please. I can still be of use to you. I’ll confirm any story y’all tell about LaShaun and Broussard. That will make it more believable. ”
“I have no reason to trust you. Maybe you’ll decide to blackmail me the way Rita tried,” Quentin replied.
“I kept a file,” Azalei shouted. “My mother will know where to look if anything happens to me.”
“Where are those sex videos of us, Azalei? I might let you go if you give them to me,” Brad barked. “And I doubt seriously you’d leave those anywhere for your mother to find.”
Azalei sneered when LaShaun shot a look of contempt in her direction. “Don’t get self-righteous, LaShaun. Not after the way you used your body to get what you want. Obviously Deputy Broussard is under that same spell.”
Quentin laughed. “You’re not even close to being in LaShaun’s league. You’re a lucky man, Broussard. Excuse me; you were a lucky man until tonight.”
Azalei spat at Quentin’s feet then looked at Gautreau. “Everyone in Vermillion Parish will get an eye full of us having a good old time. Buck naked and buck wild.”
“I should never have dirtied my hands getting involved with a— ” Gautreau sputtered and choked on his rage.
“Your hands and every other part of your body,” Azalei shot back. “Your wife, the judge’s daughter, will not be happy. Let me go, and none of this will come out.”
“You can get a new wife, Brad,” Quentin said.
LaShaun looked at Quentin. His crooked malicious smile sent a chill down her back. Quentin’s voice held a whispery quality. The lilting accent was not his own, but one LaShaun found familiar. He eyes gleamed with an unnatural radiance. Quentin’s aura turned various shades of red, the colors of anger and a lack of compassion. He walked toward LaShaun with a broad smile. His head tilted oddly to one side.
“Yes, love. I’m here. Your grandmother wanted us to be together,” Quentin’s mouth spoke the words of another. His voice changed completely. “You must have known I’d come for you.”
Brad looked at Quentin and frowned. “What’s wrong with you, man?”
“LaShaun, everything can be yours. But you must choose. I can be either one of these men you want. We’ll have nothing but days of passion and fun. We can travel the world. I would love for you to see my native land.”
“Haiti?” LaShaun gazed at him, mesmerized by the loa.
“I go back much farther, centuries in your time. Zanzibar. I traveled with the slaves to Haiti.” Quentin’s face twisted. His voice broke through. “What is happening?”
“You’re being ridden by an evil spirit called a loa, but you can fight back,” LaShaun said loudly. “You have a strong will.”
Quentin’s expression smoothed out again and his laugh was musical. “Yes, he does, but not stronger than me of course. His streak of evil serves me well.”
Gautreau looked at Quentin. “This is a bunch of bull! You’re not foolin’ me with that phony voodoo act. Quentin, straighten up or I’m gonna shoot you, too.”
“That’s not Quentin. He’s possessed by a being who doesn’t care who gets hurt. He might shoot us all,” LaShaun said to Gautreau.
“Why are you talking so crazy? Quit playing around, Quentin.” When he cackled and made a weird face at her, Azalei shook with terror.
“I had fun with you, girlie. You like to play dirty games with Papa Limba.” Quentin winked at her.
“This can’t be real. This can’t be real.” Azalei panted as she looked at him.
Chase faced Gautreau. “Corruption charges are bad, but not as bad as accessory to murder. We both know Quentin mostly likely killed his own grandfather. Murdering Rita probably came easy for him.”
The being in Quentin laughed and turned to LaShaun. “The man of yours still hasn’t figured it out. Tsk, tsk, you’ve chosen quite a dense lover.”
Chase shook his head. “Brad, you’re willing to kill us to hide an affair? Think, man. Three lives.”
LaShaun stared at Gautreau coldly. The scene fell into place inside her head like a movie. “No, that would be four for you, wouldn’t it, Deputy Gautreau. You killed Rita. I’ll bet you were furious when you found out they’d left Azalei alive. You let Azalei think it was all a plan so she wouldn’t be suspicious that you got her out there with Rita. She thought she was luring Rita into a trap. But the trap was for both of them.”
Quentin clapped his hands and danced around. “Yes, yes. My clever beauty. This Broussard fellow is not worthy of such a queen.”
“You dirty sons of bitches,” Azalei screamed.
“The forensic guys found swamp grass and mud on Rita’s body,” Chase said.
“Yeah, so what?” Brad frowned at him.
“GPS,” Chase said. “All the units have them because we cover Vermillion Parish,
lots of rural areas not close to anything. Using GPS means dispatch can locate us in case an officer is in trouble and can’t respond. We can check where your cruiser was at the time of Rita’s death.”
“Not to mention getting mud from your tires, under your cruiser, maybe even find trace evidence at your house,” LaShaun added.
“You have a serious problem, Deputy Gautreau.” The loa let out a rumbling laugh that sounded strange coming from deep in Quentin’s throat. His voice contained an eerie mix of two distinct timbres. “Most of the evidence points to you and Miss Azalei. This cunning man I own will get away clean.” He clapped his hands did a few dance steps again. He spun the gun on one finger like a gunslinger in an old western movie.
“Shut the hell up, Trosclair.” Gautreau blinked when large beads of sweat rolled into his eyes.
“No, I’m having too much fun.”
Still wearing a spine-chilling grin, Quentin pulled the trigger. Gautreau gave a loud grunt of pain and keeled over against his cruiser. He slid to the ground clutching his neck. Blood sprayed out then poured over his hand. Chase pulled a small gun from an ankle holster. Quentin jerked then staggered as the gun slipped from his fingers. Azalei crawled across the ground like a spider and picked it up gun. She pointed it first at Quentin, then at LaShaun.
“I’ll kill her, just try me,” Azalei screeched when Chase confronted her. “Everything I got was second hand from you, including him.” She jerked her head at Quentin.
“Don’t be stupid,” LaShaun said, watching the gun instead of her cousin.
“Stupid, huh? I’ve got the gun,” Azalei yelled back.
“You think I was stupid enough to come out here without back-up, Azalei?” Chase jerked his head to the right.
“Drop the gun.” Deputy Arceneaux emerged from behind a tree. Two more deputies flanked her on the right and left. All three held their weapons in the typical law enforcement stance, with both hands and their legs apart.
“They’re trained marksman. This isn’t a gunfight you can win, Azalei. Gautreau and Quentin killed Rita. No matter what you feel toward me that must mean something. The Rousselles might cheat each other out of money, but spill each other’s blood? No.” LaShaun shook her head slowly.