Sweet Mystery

by Emery, Lynn

  “Yeah.” Rae stared off across the blacktop road, but she did not see the trees swaying in the spring breeze. Being back in Belle Rose was like taking a ride in a time machine. She went back fifteen years to when she and Marcelle were teenagers.

  “Things haven’t changed round here too much. I mean downtown got a little more spruced up in the last four years. We got that new crawfish-processing plant. Them Joves– ” Marcelle broke off with a sharp glance at Rae.

  “Since when did you walk on eggshells around me?” asked Rae, not looking at her.

  “Listen, cher, talk has already started about you and Darcy. You’d think it happened yesterday.”

  “You know, since I got home, sometimes it does feel like fifteen years ago. Sorta like being in two time dimensions.” Rae shook her head. It was strange how this town was affecting her.

  “Oui. Coming home can be like that, I guess, especially after so long.” Marcelle was in tune with Rae as usual. The two had always been like sisters.

  “So, Darcy is doing well for himself? I’m not surprised.”

  Marcelle studied Rae’s expression for several moments before speaking. “Yeah, he’s got several businesses goin’. The canning plant, crawfish ponds and real estate. At least his businesses are doing well.”

  “What do you mean?” Rae looked at her with interest.

  “Darcy just got divorced from his third wife. She left him. Said he’s crazy and his sister crazy too.”

  Rae laughed. Darcy and Toya Jove had grown up in an old Creole family with an inflated value of their social status. Their mother, Lorise, was fond of reminding everyone of her proud French heritage. Two years older, Darcy was handsome and self-possessed. After seeing him from a distance throughout their childhood, Rae fell in love with him the summer she turned fourteen. To her amazed delight, he turned his attention to her. They would sneak off together, both knowing his parents would never approve, to stroll through the fields. Toya followed them one day and told her parents.

  “Toya Jove. She always took it on herself to protect her brother from females.” Rae remembered how Toya had warned her to stay away from Darcy.

  Marcelle sniggered. “Pooh. With his track record, he don’t seem to need much help running off women these days.”

  “How does he look?” Rae could not resist wondering about the boy she’d wanted so much. For two years they defied all efforts to keep them apart, until Darcy succeeded where his sister and parents had not. One day, in blinding pain, Rae had discovered the real Darcy Jove.

  Marcelle pursed her lips. “The same.”

  Rae knew what that meant. He was still almost too pretty to be a man – dark curling hair, full lips and large eyes like Louisiana dark-roast coffee. Yet the thrill was long gone.

  “Well, I’m through with that,” Rae said. “Guess what?”

  “What?” Marcelle followed her swift change of direction with ease, like the old days, ready to play the question game from their childhood.

  “I’m thinking about staying in Belle Rose,” said Rae, as surprised as Marcelle to hear the words come out of her mouth.

  “Quit lyin’! You’re gonna give up being a singing star to live in Belle Rose? Poo-ya!” Marcelle stared at her with big, round eyes.

  Rae laughed. “I’m not a singing star. We did okay, but I’m not famous or rich.”

  “Still, why would you wanna get stuck in podunk Belle Rose? Especially with… you know.”

  “That’s the main reason why, Marcelle. Daddy lived here all his life under a cloud. I don’t accept that the Dalcour legacy is going to be shame.”

  “What about Toya and Darcy? Not to mention old man Jove. I just don’t wanna see you get hurt. They own land around your daddy’s dance hall, you know.”

  Rae went rigid. “Nobody told me that.”

  “They bought it up and was trying to force him off, too. Mr. Lucien was talking a lot about his daddy, and all that stuff that happened back in the forties. Mr. Henry was hot about it.”

  Rae glanced at her. “He’s been bad-mouthing my grandfather for years. But I won’t let him or any of the Joves rule my life.”

  “What you gonna do?” Marcelle’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “Better watch out for Toya.”

  “I’m going to do exactly what they don’t expect, that’s what.”

  “Things about to get interesting in this town for the first time in ten years. Welcome back, sister.” Marcelle sat down on the swing next to Rae and put an arm around her. “I can’t wait to see what you’re up to this time.”

  Rae gazed around at the willow trees dancing in the wind. Yellow wildflowers covered the ground in a field down the road. This was the warm, vibrant land of her family. Nothing else spoke to her like the lush vegetation and hot sunshine of south Louisiana. Kudzu vines, bushes and trees crowded every space of earth, encouraged by the hot, moist climate; a tangle of greens in various shades.

  Life in Belle Rose was like that, she mused – a tangle of relationships that stretched back years. Her father, her grandfather and the Jove family were connected for better or worse. Maybe it was time to stop running from it. Yet doubt trickled through her. Sometimes tangles should not be disturbed. But she didn’t feel as though leaving was a choice anymore.

  Rae turned to her friend. “Marcelle, do you think I still belong here? Like you said, I’ve been traveling so long.”

  “Some folks come back and you can tell this isn’t their home anymore. They’ve got roots in California or Chicago now.” Marcelle took a deep breath. “Not you. You’re right to wanna be home, Rae.”

  “I sure hope so, Marcelle. I sure hope so.”

  *

  “Okay, quit joking around. It’s been three weeks and I can’t put JoJo Lawson off again. When are you coming back?” Wesley stood with one hand on his hip.

  Wesley and Jamal had stayed with Rae for the weekend. They enjoyed fishing and small-town life in small doses. Now they were ready to leave. Jamal helped Rae load groceries into Wesley’s Chevy Blazer.

  “I’m not. I keep telling you. I’m going to stay here and run the dance hall.” Rae yanked on a sack of potatoes with Jamal’s help.

  “No!” Wesley dropped a bag of groceries onto the gray seat of his vehicle. “No, no, no.” He shook his head back and forth. “You can’t just quit the band.” His voice was positive, as though his saying it would make it so.

  Rae gazed up at the tall, lanky man with a look of resolution. “Yes, I can.”

  Jamal slapped him on the shoulder. “Told you she wasn’t kidding.”

  “Just like that – walk away?” Wesley wore a look that was a mixture of disbelief and betrayal. “Well, if that’s all we mean to you, fine.”

  “Get real, Wes.” Jamal barked out a harsh laugh. “You of all people trying to lay an emotional guilt trip on somebody.”

  “We’ve been like family and you know it.” Wesley turned to Rae. “Baby, we’ve been through the fire together.”

  Rae thought of the tough times when they only had each other – nights of rowdy crowds and surly club owners. One record producer even told them they had no chance of making it. Yet they had pushed on.

  “You’re right, Wes. Like family, we’ve had hard times and stuck together. So now I need you to understand that I’ve got to do this, for Lucien and for me.” Rae put a hand on Wesley’s arm.

  “He was a sweet dude, your daddy. I don’t care what anybody says.” Wesley, for all his gruff exterior, had a sentimental core. “Sure gonna miss you. Come here, girl.” He gave her a quick hug.

  Jamal joined in for a group hug. “Aw, man, leaving you behind is going to be tough.”

  Rae blinked back tears. “It’s going to be hard watching you leave. But, hey, you’re coming back.” She thumped Wesley’s chest firmly. “I expect you guys to play for me at least twice a year.”

  He winked at her. “You got it, little sister.”

  They went back to loading the last few bags into the Chevy. Jamal and Wesley
teased Rae about the joys of living in a small town as they drove into the old part of Belle Rose. Antique shops and boutiques lined the main street.

  “Let’s stop here. I want to get my mom a souvenir,” said Jamal. His mother lived in Detroit, but collected Southern figurines. They stopped at a shop selling small statues made from pecan shells.

  “Whoa, who is that?” asked Wesley. He did not follow Jamal into the shop, but lingered on the brick sidewalk, staring down the street.

  Rae followed his gaze. An unpleasant tingle went through her at the sight of the curvy figure in a white pant set. “Toya Jove,” she murmured, more to herself than to answer Wesley’s question.

  Toya straightened the stylish white, short-sleeved shirt, with flowers in an appliqué pattern across the front. A wide, white woven belt with a gold buckle was wrapped around her waist. The pants were loose fitting, but still showed her figure to advantage. She touched the designer sunglasses on her face as she looked at Rae. Her lips lifted at one corner in a perfect expression of disdain, and then she turned and walked away. A tall man emerged from a storefront. After a brief exchange, Toya went past him and into another store.

  “Some lady. Maybe I could arrange to hang with you a while longer.” Wesley seemed in a daze. “You know, help out with the hall.”

  “How thoughtful,” Rae said. Toya still had that effect on men, it seemed. “Wouldn’t have anything to do with Spider Woman, would it?”

  “She’s something else.” Wesley still stared in the direction that Toya had taken.

  “Save your libido, Wes. Toya has an income requirement for her men. Besides, she was just with some other poor sucker. Guess he’s in her web.” Rae examined the tall man who had spoken to Toya. To her surprise, he walked towards them.

  Rae watched him approach, wondering why he seemed familiar. He was at least six foot four, with skin that shone like burnished bronze in the bright sunshine. His hair was a cap of tight black curls; a short afro. Muscular arms appeared from the light green, cotton-knit shirt neatly tucked into his chino slacks. Graceful, like a trained athlete, his stride was smooth.

  Rae felt a prick of disappointment that he wore dark sunglasses. She wanted to see the eyes of this stunning man. What the heck is wrong with me? Rae wondered at her reaction to this stranger. Though she’d had at least two serious relationships in the past six years, Rae had never been one to fall for a handsome face on sight. Life had made her wary of good-looking men. Still, she was quite content to watch this man walk by. He smiled, revealing even, white teeth. Rae nodded a greeting, expecting him to continue on his way.

  “Hello, Miss Dalcour,” he said in a voice that hinted he sung bass.

  “Hello.” Rae took his outstretched hand. The flesh was smooth and cool.

  She tried to recall his face and voice. Strange, but she liked the solid feel of his hand in hers. It seemed to steady her, giving a hint of how good the rest of him would feel. His broad chest seemed perfect for touching. Rae wondered if he was single. Being home might be even better than I thought.

  “You probably don’t remember me. We met only a couple of times years ago. I’m Simon St. Cyr.” He smiled at her.

  So that was it – the St. Cyr clan. Now she recognized him. His grandfather was the third partner in the illfated venture that had left a stain on the Dalcour name all these years. Joseph St. Cyr, Henry Jove and Pawpaw Vincent had been best friends. As young men, they decided to go into business together. Things had gone terribly wrong; all of it blamed on Vincent Dalcour. Yet the St. Cyrs and Joves not only survived, but prospered.

  Rae gazed at the strong profile. Cold dislike crept over her. This well-dressed pretty boy could not help but strut in front of her.

  “Oh yeah,” she said in a short tone. All amorous thoughts of snuggling up to him vanished. “Sure you want to be seen talking to me in public?”

  Simon stopped smiling. “Ms. Dalcour, what’s past is past. I don’t have any interest in a fifty-year-old feud. When you get situated, give me a call.” He took a business card from his shirt pocket.

  Rae did not take it. “Why?”

  “You might be interested in the discussions I had with your father several months ago. He was planning to work with me on developing your family’s property.”

  “I have a hard time believing my father would give you the time of day,” Rae replied, but she was intrigued despite her words. Lucien had spoken to a St. Cyr? More to the point, why would a St. Cyr talk to a Dalcour?

  “Meet with me and I’ll explain it all to you.” Simon nodded. He still held out his card, his expression behind the sunglasses hinted at a challenge to her.

  After a few seconds, Rae took it, and read, “Heritage Contractors and Dirt Service.”

  “Thursday morning at ten okay?” Simon pointed to a building. “My office is down on Front Street, just a short distance from here.”

  “Okay.”

  Rae watched him walk away. She definitely liked the way the man moved. While her body reacted to the sensuous presence of Simon St. Cyr, her mind issued a strong warning. What could it hurt to listen for a few minutes? What she remembered of him was neutral. Being four years older, Simon had been away at college during her high-school years. Besides, she’d been too infatuated with Darcy to notice other boys. Darcy. That experience alone should have taught her that men from those two families were trouble.

  A stab of regret and pain made her wince at the memories. Maybe she shouldn’t meet Simon. Keeping her distance could be the best plan if she were to remain in Belle Rose. Rae ground her teeth in frustration. Within ten minutes of seeing Simon, she was torn with confusion. Trouble from the St. Cyrs and Joves already! She sat down on a bench to wait for Wes and Jamal to finish shopping. The small business district was quiet, with a few tourists wandering from shop to shop. Rae was still lost in thought when a shadow fell across her. Rae gazed up

  “Look who’s back in town.” Toya stood over her, a tight smile on her face. “Hello Raenette.”

  “Hello Toya.” Rae resisted the urge to stand up. Toya always had a way of making her feel outnumbered; somehow at a disadvantage.

  “Sorry to hear about your daddy. Mr. Lucien was a real character; amusing in his way.” Toya wore a smile of indulgence as she sat down on the opposite end of the bench. “So you’ve been busy becoming a star, I hear.”

  “Hardly, but we did okay.”

  “You’re being modest. You always could play a mean blues guitar.”

  Rae wondered where this conversation was going. Toya hardly cared about her or her music career. She settled back against the bench and waited. “Thanks.”

  “I’m sure you have lots of engagements. Before you leave, tell me when your band will play around here again. I’d like to see you perform.” Toya started to rise. Her tone made it clear that she expected Rae to waste no time in leaving Belle Rose.

  “No problem. Since I’m staying, you’ll get to see me as often as you like.” Rae grinned at the effect of her words.

  “Staying?” Toya echoed.

  “Sure, Daddy’s business is still here. I think it could be successful.”

  Toya’s expression was taut. “Dalcour business deals have a way of going up in flames. I shouldn’t have to remind you of that.”

  “Yeah, well, Simon St. Cyr doesn’t think so. He practically offered me an engraved invitation to do business with him.”

  “Simon did what?” Toya snapped through clenched teeth.

  Rae laughed. So, mentioning him touched a sore spot. “Made it a point to find me. Seems like a real nice man.” She made the simple words sound suggestive. “I really look forward to meeting with him.”

  “You stay away from…” Toya’s voice trailed off when she realized that Rae was enjoying her irritation. “You never could recognize when you were out of your league.” She flounced off.

  “See you around, Toya,” Rae called out in a false tone of friendliness.

  Jamal and Wes appeared on the sidewalk
, carrying several bags of purchases. Wes tried to get Toya’s attention, but she never looked his way.

  “Let me guess, she wasn’t exactly a pal of yours back in the old days,” Jamal said.

  Wes gave a low grunt of approval. “My, oh my, some fine-looking woman.”

  “Wes, the woman is a chainsaw in expensive leather pumps,” Rae replied. “Toya is ten times more deadly than both your ex-wives.

  “Ouch!” Wes wore a pained expression at the mention of the two women who’d pursued him relentlessly for alimony.

  “Listen, Rae, seems there are a lot of bad memories here for you. Not to mention bad feeling.” Jamal jerked a thumb in the direction Toya had taken. “Sure you wanna hang around here?”

  Toya threw one last glare at them before getting into her white Acura sedan and slamming the door.

  Rae smiled “Oh yes, I’m looking forward to it more and more.”

  Chapter 2

  “Look at this place. I don’t know how you expect to make anything out of this,” Neville said.

  Rae’s older brother had taken several days off from his job at Bryer Chemical Plant. He’d insisted on helping Rae, but what he really meant to do was convince her not to operate the dance hall.

  Rae gazed around at the dilapidated juke joint that her father had operated for over twenty-five years. She had to admit it looked pretty run down in the light of day. The weather-beaten, cypress-wood planks that made up the outer walls were broken in several places. One end of the roof sagged where a corner post leaned crookedly.

  “It’s not so bad. We had some good times in here.” Andrew put up a weak defense. Even he grimaced when they walked inside.

  “How long since it was open for business?” Rae pushed a broken chair from her path. The only light came from the one of two windows since the electricity was turned off.

  “At least three years.” Andrew ran a hand along one wall. “Poor Daddy.”

  “Even when he had it open, Daddy had to work to support himself.” Neville was not feeling sentimental about the dance hall. “Then he had to stop just about everything when he went on disability. Not a thriving business.”