Cypress Nights

by Stella Cameron

  He shrugged, looking at Madge. “That woman’s had a hard time,” he said. “Kate, I mean. She and Jim were close for a long time. I hope Spike isn’t taking any notice of the kind of stuff Ozaire’s been spreading.”

  Reading Madge’s expression wasn’t easy, not when she looked at Sam. “Spike’s a kind man,” she said. “And I guess his dad told Ozaire off. Said he’d lose his part-time job out at the station if he didn’t keep his mouth shut.”

  Spike’s dad, Homer Devol, ran the gas station, convenience store and boat launch on the outskirts of Toussaint. Ozaire helped out part-time. Homer didn’t mince words or get shy about his opinions.

  “That should help,” Sam said. “I’d better get back to my office.”

  “Sure,” Madge said. “Come on, Bleu. Lil packed some cookies for us to take to Kate.”

  Bleu heard Sam walking behind her. He left without another word. “Madge,” she whispered. “Say goodbye to Sam. He’s a good guy.”

  “I know,” Madge said. She raised her voice. “Bye, Sam. Take it easy.”

  He looked back at her, and she waved. Sam hesitated, raised a hand and walked on.

  “I feel sorry for him,” Bleu said.

  “He hasn’t had it easy,” Madge said. “But I…I hope he meets someone who can be what he needs.”

  “And that isn’t you?”

  “It isn’t,” Madge said. “I don’t think I can be what anyone needs.”

  Before Bleu could respond, Madge had hurried into the kitchen. She picked up a basket lined and covered with blue-spotted white cloths. “Goodies for Kate,” she said. “We’ll let Cyrus know we’re ready to go. Roche called to check on you—again—and I told him we’d be gone for a couple of hours at the most.”

  He should be concentrating on his patients, Bleu thought, but still she smiled.

  In Madge’s comfortably worn office, where piano blues played loudly enough on the old sound system to be heard, but softly enough to allow conversation, Bleu went to the desk and checked to see if there was any mail for her.

  “Five envelopes,” Madge said behind her. “Let me check on Cyrus while you open them. He’s writing his homily. You know how much he struggles not to let them get too long.”

  Everyone knew.

  Everyone knew Cyrus failed most of the time and rarely kept one of his passionate talks shorter than forty minutes.

  While she waited, Bleu opened her mail. Five checks, four of them nice, and accompanied by friendly notes, and one large enough to make her eyes bug. That one was signed by Reb Girard, the town doctor. Reb’s family had lived in Toussaint just about forever. Her father had been the local doctor before her. Now she was married to childhood friend, Marc Girard, an architect, and they had two children. Money couldn’t be a problem, but the check still made Bleu want to sing and dance.

  Instead, she flopped into Madge’s red-and-white-striped overstuffed chair and stretched out her legs. A horrible day was showing promise. Kevin Rains, despite taking the fall for her, would be at home by now—if he wasn’t back at the firehouse. Apparently the fire had caused damage no one saw until it was too late. Bleu doubted she’d ever get into another car with quite as much confidence again.

  Her cell phone rang in her pocket and she pulled it out. “Hello.”

  “It’s Roche.”

  She hadn’t thought to check the readout. “Yes,” she said. Darn it anyway, why did she get tongue-tied around him? “I just got in some nice donation checks.”

  “That’s great,” he said. “Bleu, you haven’t forgotten about tonight, have you?”

  Tonight. “I might have to beg off and do some cleanup,” she said. She heard the wobble in her voice. “There’s a lot to be done. I’d be wrong if I didn’t look into making the place as safe as I can. Not that I think this person will strike in the same place twice.”

  “Cleanup is a great idea,” he said. “I’ll bring my rubber gloves.”

  It took her an instant to register what he’d said and laugh. “You’ve already done too much for me. Driving me around and everything.” She had yet to decide what to do about a car.

  His voice lowered. “I couldn’t do too much for you. Don’t fight me on this. A promise is a promise and you said we had a date tonight. If we spend it washing walls, that’s good with me.”

  She thought about it. Wanting to see him didn’t make it easier to be objective. “Okay. Thanks. I hope you’ve got an apron, too.”

  “You’d be surprised what I’ve got,” he said.

  Bleu didn’t pursue that. “I’ll see you later, then?”

  “Later.” He was still on the line, listening, when she hung up softly.

  Millie whipped from beneath the desk, for all the world as if she’d only just noticed Bleu’s presence, and leaped onto her lap. Two turnarounds and the sleek black-and-white fur ball settled in.

  “You’ve got a real case on Roche.”

  At the sound of Madge entering the room, Bleu craned to see over her shoulder. She was not comforted by the serious expression on her cousin’s face.

  “He’s easy on the eyes,” Madge continued. She closed the door softly and went to lean against her desk. “Both of the Savage brothers are.”

  “True,” Bleu said, as lightly as she could. “Is it just me or is it stuffy in here?”

  Madge skirted the desk and opened a window. Nasturtiums bobbled their gold-and-copper heads, some slipping through the open crack as if trying to get inside.

  For a moment, Madge stood there, gazing out and absentmindedly gripping the edge of the window frame.

  “What’s the matter?” Tension got thicker by the second, and Bleu felt a little sick.

  The lazy piano filled the silences between them. The dog lifted her head and looked from Bleu to Madge. Her nose twitched, but she sighed and closed her eyes.

  “I’m going to get a dog as soon as I can,” Bleu said, making conversation. “I think it would be good company. I always had one as a kid.”

  “I know,” Madge said. “Why wait? Get a good watch dog.”

  “I intend to,” Bleu told her, more sharply than she intended. “I’ll have to wait a bit till I can afford it. Most of all, I want a good buddy. I don’t intend to spend a lot of time being scared.”

  “You’re changing,” Madge said, quietly. “You’re not so gentle. Why is that?”

  Was she being told off for trying to take command of her life? “I’m the same old Bleu, just older and wiser. Do you think I should have stayed beaten down and scared forever?”

  “You know I don’t.” Madge sounded angry, but Bleu didn’t take it personally. Something was on Madge’s mind and it wasn’t whether or not Bleu was growing more independent. “Sorry. I’m a bit uptight. Cyrus will be a few more minutes, and I should say some things to you. I’ve already put them off too long.”

  Bleu swallowed, but she made sure she looked interested and approachable. “Then don’t put them off any longer. We’ve always been able to talk to each other.”

  “We haven’t spent a lot of adult time together. You know what I mean? I’m sure you’ve got your thoughts about the way I’m living my life. I know it’s not too tidy, but I’m doing my best.”

  “I know you are,” Bleu said quietly. “You’re a special woman. You’ve always tried to do the best for everyone. I want things to work out for you—in the way you want them to work out. Do you like Sig Smith? You went out for dinner with him.”

  Madge’s expression closed. “Yes. We had a pleasant evening. Thanks for asking.”

  But I don’t want to talk about it? “I’m glad.”

  “What do you know about Roche Savage?” Madge said.

  Taken aback by the directness, Bleu gave herself time to think, time not to say what she might regret later. “I know what most people know,” she said. “And from my own experience, I think he’s pretty special.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of.”

  Bleu felt a little cold. She ran her fingers through
Millie’s fur, and the dog all but purred.

  “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” Madge said. “All I’ve got is hearsay but not too much has been said to refute it.”

  “You’re using big words. They make me nervous.”

  Madge sunk her hands deep in the pockets of a pink check dress and pulled the tulip-shaped skirt tighter about her curvy hips. “I won’t win any prizes for diplomacy.”

  Sweat formed on Bleu’s palms. “Just tell me what’s on your mind. You’re scaring me.”

  “Shoot,” Madge said, with a lot of feeling. “Who knows how much is real and how much is just Lil gossiping? I’d almost forgotten about it.”

  Bleu resisted the temptation to stand up. There was no need to be confrontational. “Why not tell me what you heard?”

  “I shouldn’t have said anythin’.” Madge’s face flamed. “Be careful, that’s all. People can seem one way and be another.”

  “Yes, they can. But you’re not going to leave me with that kind of hint.”

  Madge puffed up her cheeks. She retrieved her dog and hugged the animal close. “Don’t you think Roche is a bit worldly for you?”

  “Not that I’ve noticed.” Which wasn’t at all true. “You know I had a bad time when I was married. That was too worldly for me.”

  Madge wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Michael was a criminal.”

  “Yes. But before we knew that—”

  “I meant the way he treated you was criminal.”

  Bleu did stand up then. “It was, but I shouldn’t have told you about it. You don’t need to deal with my troubles.”

  “Why?” Madge came closer. “We don’t have any other available family. I want to be here for you. I know you’d stand by me.”

  “I would.” Bleu looked into Madge’s dark eyes and saw how troubled she was. “But there is something you’re worrying about—about Roche. Isn’t there?”

  “He’s not your type.”

  “Why?” Getting angry or defensive wouldn’t help anything. “I’m not his social equal, if that’s what you mean, but it doesn’t seem to bother him.”

  “That’s not what I meant. He’s a lot more experienced than you.”

  “How would you know?” The rising pitch of her own voice embarrassed Bleu. “You mean well, but you’re talking about things you can’t know. Is it because Roche and I come from such different backgrounds? I’m poor and he’s rich?”

  “You weren’t always so poor. Michael did that to you. You know I don’t think about money, Bleu.”

  “Have you ever thought you should spend more time thinking about yourself?” Bleu asked. “You could work on straightening out the mess you’re in and leave me to deal with my own life.”

  “That’s mean,” Madge said. “You aren’t like that. It’s because you don’t feel good about yourself.”

  Bleu resisted the temptation to snap back again. “You could be right. Let’s not talk about this anymore. You want the best for me. Thank you.”

  “Has…” The flush that remained on Madge’s skin turned much darker. “Has he tried to…you know.”

  “Why don’t you go ahead and ask what you want to know?”

  Silence lengthened after that. Bleu could hear the beat of her own heart.

  She jumped at the sound of a bird hitting the window. Millie gave a bark and the creature flew away again. Bleu rubbed her palms together. She was sweating.

  “Something happened a couple of years back,” Madge said. She appeared close to tears. “Lil’s the one who saw it. A lot of strange things were happening, and she was out at night looking for something.”

  “Saw what?” Bleu couldn’t smile or pretend anymore. “If you’ve got something to tell me, do it.”

  “I only want you to be careful and—”

  “Tell me!”

  Setting Millie down, Madge took hold of one of Bleu’s hands. “I wasn’t there. I’m saying what I was told. Cyrus would hate it if he knew I was telling you, but you’re not his cousin.”

  “I don’t think Cyrus would willingly let me be in danger,” she said.

  “He wouldn’t. But sometimes he either doesn’t believe things, or doesn’t really hear them. This was out at the Green Veil clinic when it was just finished. Before Max started having patients there.”

  “Okay.”

  “It was at night. In the dark. Like I said, Lil was looking for something around Rosebank. Green Veil’s next door.”

  “I know,” Bleu said quietly.

  “The lights were all on at Green Veil, which was unusual then. Lil walked over that way and saw something.”

  Bleu nodded.

  “There’s a reception area in front. It’s big and the windows go all the way up to the first floor. Roche was with a woman in the foyer. He chased her and grabbed her.”

  Nerves jumped in Bleu’s tummy. She had to listen, but she didn’t want to.

  “That’s all,” Madge said, pushing her hair back. “He was a bit aggressive with her. So I want you to make sure you’re okay with him.”

  Bleu stared at Madge. “That’s not all, is it?”

  Slowly, Madge shook her head, no. “The woman’s clothes were torn.”

  “Oh.” Bleu covered her mouth.

  “Her skirts went up and she didn’t have anything on underneath. Lil said there was sex. And it was rough.”

  If she could make this whole conversation go away, she would. Bleu took deep breaths. “Lil’s sure this was Roche? Who was the woman?”

  Madge’s eyes slid away. “She isn’t around here anymore. I shouldn’t name names. All I can say is what Lil reckoned. She dramatizes, but I would be wrong not to say this. Bleu, she talked about rape.”

  Chapter 21

  Every breath Bleu took felt thick and old. The weight on her chest only got heavier. Her first instinct after Madge’s announcement had been to get out of coming to Kate Harper’s, but staying on her own at the rectory was a bad, bad idea.

  “It’s nice of you two to come along,” Cyrus said. He tucked a trailing vine of pale pink roses back into an arbor over the gate leading to Kate’s pretty white house.

  “I thought Kate would call the rectory again by now,” Madge said. “Don’t you think it’s strange she hasn’t?”

  Cyrus closed the wooden gate behind the three of them. “We did speak again today. I called her. She was sad, but restrained—the way you’d expect her to be.”

  “Kate’s old world,” Madge said to Bleu. “Proper in a way. I don’t suppose she’s too comfortable letting people see how she feels.”

  “Are you sure I should be here?” Bleu asked. “She’s only met me a couple of times.”

  “Yes,” Cyrus said. “Jim liked you a lot and he was enthusiastic about the school and the possibility of a senior center. You knew him, and Kate will appreciate it that you can talk about him.”

  Bleu smiled at Cyrus and followed along the gravel path.

  What she couldn’t ignore was Madge’s agitation. When they looked at each other, Madge constantly appeared about to say something, but never did.

  Several wide steps up to a screened porch, also loaded with roses, let them see that the front door was open. Cyrus rang the bell.

  Not a sound came from inside the two-story house.

  “Oh, dear,” Madge said. “Poor Kate. If she wants to be alone, we shouldn’t intrude.”

  “She likes her gardens,” Cyrus said. “She could be out back.”

  They trailed in ragged file onto a fork in the path which looked as if it led around the house. Cyrus walked ahead.

  His well-washed check shirt didn’t look priestlike. Bleu thought, as she so often did, that he could be any woman’s vital husband, the father of rambunctious children. When he glanced back, it was directly at Madge and his smile flashed just for her.

  “Bleu,” Madge whispered. “I don’t think I should have told you what I did. I haven’t heard anything else about Roche—nothing worrying.”

  “You did th
e right thing,” Bleu said. Her eyes stung. It was impossible not to think of being in bed with him, his gentle power and the way he’d excited her made her feel complete. There had been nothing rough or scary about him.

  “I only want the best for you,” Madge said.

  “I know,” Bleu said, and she did. “Don’t worry. It’s in my hands now.”

  Madge hesitated. “You probably won’t see him again, will you? That doesn’t seem completely fair. Lil always makes a lot out of a little. I’m sure she saw Roche with someone, but it didn’t have to be exactly the way she said.”

  Cyrus had stopped in front of them.

  “Not now,” Bleu said. She didn’t know what she would do about Roche.

  Laughter came from behind the house. Cyrus reached the end of the side wall and called out, “Kate? You here?”

  More laughter rose. A man and a woman laughing together. Bleu frowned and listened hard. A shared moment. A conspiratorial pleasure.

  “She’s already got company,” Madge said, joining Cyrus.

  Her cousin had only heard laughter, not something secretive or forbidden. Bleu decided her imagination was wayward.

  The three of them went forward until they saw a beautiful garden. Lush hedges and shrubs, banks of brilliant flowers, a perfectly mowed lawn that stretched into groves of fruit trees.

  Bleu didn’t see anyone there.

  “That’s Jim’s house over there,” Madge said, pointing. “I heard he left that to Kate, too. At least she’ll be really well-fixed.”

  Built of split logs on stilts, Jim’s house probably covered four thousand square feet.

  Set too far back to be seen from the road, trees all but hid it on all sides except for the one that faced Kate’s property.

  “I didn’t expect anything quite so grand,” Bleu said.

  “Jim’s house, you mean?” Cyrus asked. “Or this one?”

  She blew at a hair caught on her lips. “Both, I guess.”

  “Should we come back?” Madge said, already backing away.

  “Kate!” Cyrus headed for an archway cut in a tall hedge ahead of them.

  He ducked to go through and Bleu followed him.