Sweet Mystery

by Emery, Lynn

  Simon and Rae sat stunned by the news for a moment, and then he stood up. “I have to go. You understand, don’t you?”

  The sweet mood they’d shared was gone. She sat up. “Yeah, sure.”

  As Simon took a quick shower and dressed, Rae thought about her last encounter with Henry Jove. He had always seemed so powerful, so in control. Of course, he was only human like everyone else. It would be sad if he died just when LaMar was on the verge of finding out the truth about Pawpaw Vincent and Estelle, especially as it might turn out that Henry had been right all along.

  Rae went into the bathroom, showered and dressed quickly while Simon waited. Afterwards, they walked out of the house together and Rae got into her car.

  Simon leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I’ll call you later, babe.”

  “Okay.”

  Only moments ago the night had been magical; a velvet comforter that wrapped them in love. Now there was an ominous feel to the blanket of darkness surrounding the rural highway as Rae drove home. The descending sense of gloom puzzled her. Though she felt sorry for Henry Jove, despite his harsh words, there was something else. A palpable shift in the atmosphere seemed to signal dire events. Perhaps digging into the past had released some kind of negative energy. Rae tried to shake off her morose musings.

  Later, at home, unable to sleep, she stared at the television most of the night without really seeing it.

  Chapter 13

  “Over here, Willie,” a deep voice shouted. The work crew’s boss gestured to the man operating a dump truck.

  Bright, hot sunshine beamed down on the men. Work had begun early enough, but even now, at ten in the morning, their shirts were soaked with sweat. In spite of the heat and humidity, the men kept up a steady pace. They took turns drinking water from the big, round coolers they carried with them.

  For three more hours they worked, clearing the thick vegetation in preparation for the installation of a road. Onlookers who lived or worked near Bayou Latte wandered over to watch, off and on. Even the birds, disturbed from their usual quiet routine, perched high in the trees to observe the activity below.

  The sandy dirt was scooped up into huge piles, which would later be used to build up the levee along Grande River. Large rocks would be broken up for use as gravel for the road bed or concrete mix. Nothing would be discarded.

  Even the clank of machinery did not spoil the beauty of the scene. Bayou Latte, which flowed along for miles, was surrounded by lush, green grass. Wide palmetto bushes sprouted, just as they had done in the subtropical land for centuries. Tall oaks, white ash and maple trees formed a canopy over the forest floor. A breeze stirred their leaves high up, but did little to cool.

  The sparse audience shared a cordial companionship with the men working. Light banter went back and forth as everyone enjoyed the day. Dump trucks lumbered away, hauling their loads, some of which would be placed on barges.

  “Hey, Gus!” a workman shouted. “Come over here, man. Looka this!”

  The foreman strode over to stare down at ground. “What the..? That’s probably some deer or something.”

  With a slow shake of his head, the worker disagreed. “I hunt, man. That don’t look like no deer bone to me.”

  An hour later, the men sat around eating their lunches and waiting. Deputy Wilson and Sheriff Thibodeaux stood staring down at the bones laid on the ground.

  “Best we call the state police on this one, Kedrick,” said the sheriff. Squatting down, he took off his sunglasses. “This might be nothing, but then again…”

  *

  Andrew sat down at the bar and ordered a sandwich for lunch. “Hey, Garrett. They were digging over by the bayou and found some human bones. Got everybody spooked.”

  Garrett, who was getting ready to open the bar for the evening, stopped arranging the glass beer mugs. “Say what? Man, you gotta be kiddin’?”

  “I’m tellin’ ya. My boss was down there when one of the guys dug ‘em up. Folks all ready wonderin’ who it could be.”

  Andrew grinned when Sarah, the cook Rae had hired, brought him a po-boy. “Thank you, ma’am.” He handed Garrett a five-dollar bill.

  Garrett gave him his change with mechanical movements, his forehead wrinkled. “Can’t be nobody from round here. We’d have missed ‘em by now. Tell ya what, it’s one of them drug dealers, I bet.”

  “You think?” Andrew took a bite of the fried catfish in French bread.

  “Sure. They use these bayous to smuggle drugs. Bet one of his business partners decided he didn’t wanna share the profits.”

  “Or maybe he one of them gang members from Lafayette or New Orleans. Folks love to come out here and dump their trash.” Andrew gave a grunt. “Drugs and gangs; just another form of pollution.”

  Sarah lingered to join in the conversation. “They ain’t the only ones that kill people.” She dropped her voice. “Miss Zenola says voodoo is still practiced round here.”

  Jackson, her husband, emerged from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. “Don’t talk foolishness. That ain’t how voodoo folks kill.”

  “He oughta know – his mama one of ‘em,” Sarah mumbled before he got close.

  Jackson took a seat on one of the bar stools. “Besides that, they use spells to make folks get sick and die. They wouldn’t need to dump a body.”

  For the next few minutes a lively debate ensued. Sarah insisted there was some evil magic being practiced while Garrett favored the more Earthly sin of crime.

  Rae walked in on them gossiping and developing theories. “What’s all the commotion? I can hardly think back in my office.” She sat down at a table with a sandwich and soft drink. “Sounded like a roomful of people was in here.”

  “Child, they found a body in the bayou,” Sarah blurted out, foiling Andrew’s effort to tell her first.

  “Humph, more good news. Now we find out our backyard is a cemetery.” Rae was fast losing her appetite.

  “Yep, Belle Rose is jumpin’ here lately.” Garrett went back to work as he talked. “If old Henry dies, this town won’t be the same.”

  Rae felt a shiver down her spine. She did not like to think of that day when she was confronted by the self-righteous patriarch of the town’s most prominent Creole family. He looked ill after their heated exchange.

  “Guess his bad temper finally did him in. Rae let him have it the other day. Right, baby sister?” Andrew threw a glance at her. “Say he had smoke coming out of his ears.”

  “Hush, Andrew,” Sarah whispered.

  He looked baffled. “What did I say?”

  An uncomfortable silence descended.

  Garrett rattled several bottles. “Uh-umm, I’m goin’ out back to the storeroom.” He darted away.

  “I got to start marinating my meat for tonight.” Jackson followed him.

  “Hey, everybody actin’ like I stepped in somethin’.” Andrew lifted both hands. “What’s up?”

  “Rae, don’t you listen to ignorant gossip. You ain’t caused the man to have that stroke.” Sarah gave Rae a maternal pat before leaving. She shot an admonishing look at Andrew. “You gonna learn to let your brain guide your mouth one of these days.”

  “Aw, come on. Rae knows she didn’t make the old man sick.” Andrew pulled out the chair next to her and sat down. “Ain’t that right?”

  “Yeah, well the talk is I pushed him over the edge.” Rae lifted a shoulder as she traced an invisible line on the tablecloth.

  “At his age anything can go wrong. The man is eighty, Raenette.” Andrew put an arm around her shoulder. “He’s all ready cheated the Grim Reaper longer than most.”

  “Henry Jove is the last person I’d lose sleep over, Andy. But I don’t wanna kill the man either.” Rae rubbed her eyes.

  “Poo-ya! One conversation ain’t gonna kill that mean old goat.”

  Rae patted his hand. He could always tease her out of a blue mood. “Yeah, you’re right.”

  “Sure I am. Not even you got that powerful a persona
lity.” Andrew poked her in the ribs. “Though you could raise Mama’s temperature with them tricks you pulled.”

  “All right, let well enough alone.” She tried not to laugh.

  For the rest of the day, Rae found hard work a comfort, allowing her to avoid thinking of the Joves. She completed an inventory, worked with Marcelle on the books and paid the sales taxes. The dance hall closed at midnight.

  Garrett had proved his skill and become her manager. This meant that, eventually, Rae would not have to work sixteen-hour days, but tonight she welcomed it. Only a few days ago, the dance hall was a barrier to being in Simon’s arms. Now she fought a fear that he would be drawn away from her. Working late meant she could delay going home to an empty house. All she had of Simon lately was his tired voice on the phone, telling her that Henry Jove’s condition was still critical.

  *

  Friday came and Rae could stand it no longer. Her nerves were raw and she’d not had a decent night’s sleep for several days.

  “Garrett, you mind if I take Saturday off? Andrew will help, and Neville will be down Saturday night.”

  “Bet Andrew jumped at the chance.” Garrett grinned. “Surprised me, but Andrew got a gift for runnin’ this place. Why don’t you let him take some of the burden off you?”

  Rae thought of her carefree brother. Despite his laid-back attitude toward work, playing host was his strength. Garrett was right. Andrew showed an understanding about cash flow and balance sheets that was more than a surprise – it was an outright shock.

  “Think I can persuade him to quit his day job at Thibaut’s?” Rae raised an eyebrow.

  “Only reason he’d say no is if you don’t ask him,” Garrett quipped.

  Rae knew Garrett was right.

  *

  Andrew wore a wide grin when she met him and broached the subject of coming to work for her.

  “Now I gotta give Mr. Thibaut notice. He’ll probably let me work some anyways. Me and Garrett switching days as manager is a fine idea.” Andrew stuck out his chest. “The Dalcour family enterprise is on its way.”

  Rae tried to share his bright outlook. Once he was gone, the gray fog of gloom settled back over her. Not even the clear, blue sky full of puffy, white clouds helped. The small park looked out over the water. She took a stroll along the paved river-walk downtown trying to leave it behind.

  “Rae, I’ve been looking for you,” Simon called to her. He crossed over to the small park behind city hall. “Just so happened I came to the office for something and saw your car.”

  “Hi, baby. How are you?” Rae pulled him close. He felt so good.

  “Sorry I haven’t been by in the last couple of days.”

  Rae placed her fingertips on his lips. “You don’t have to explain. Is it bad?”

  “He’s stable at least. But his left side is paralyzed and he can’t talk. At least not so you can understand him.”

  Rae tried to visualize the formidable man unable to command his own body. “What does the doctor say?”

  “Dr. Picard had the neurologist examine him. The next few days will be critical.”

  “Even though he’s not exactly one of my favorite people, I’m sorry this happened.” Rae took a deep breath. “How is the family holding up?”

  “Darcy is fine.” Simon frowned, disapproval on his face. “He’s been at the hospital, but his biggest concern seems to be getting the sheriff and state police out of his way so his precious road can be built.”

  “Man, I forgot about that. It seems we have a murder mystery on our hands.” Rae sat down at a picnic table under a sprawling oak tree.

  Simon put an arm around her waist as he joined her on the wooden bench. “Darcy didn’t even let the fact that his grandfather had a stroke the night before keep him from going out there the next morning.”

  “From what they say, this plant is going to help make the Joves even richer.” Rae gazed out over the sparkling water. “Darcy wouldn’t let anything get in the way of that.”

  “Yeah, guess you’re right.”

  “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree either. Mr. Henry is just as single-minded about making money.” Rae glanced at Simon. “I shouldn’t have said that under the circumstances.”

  “No, you’re right again. But the strange thing is Mr. Henry wasn’t too happy about something connected to the deal.” Simon looked at her. “He was in the middle of a tirade about his property when he had the stroke.”

  “Henry Jove didn’t want to make more money? Now that is strange.” Rae leaned against Simon. “He sure could get worked up. Mr. Henry tore into me a couple of days ago and–”

  “My grandfather wouldn’t be lying in a hospital right now if you hadn’t come back to town!”

  The couple turned to see Toya standing several feet away with a stony face.

  Simon faced her. “Mr. Henry was at risk of a stroke because of his heart and high blood pressure. Rae didn’t have anything to do with it.”

  “The doctor said stress plays a factor.” Toya jabbed a finger at Rae. “She has deliberately provoked us by digging up the past and opening that sleazy dive.”

  “You’re delusional.” Rae did not try to curb her anger. She was tired of Toya’s attitude being thrown in her face at every turn. “I guess that thunderstorm we had the other night is my fault, too.”

  “Grandfather was doing fine until you provoked him! Why couldn’t you go back to bar-hopping with that straggly band of yours?” Toya snarled. “Your grandfather stole from him. Now you’re here him drive him into the grave.”

  “Toya, stop it!” Simon said in a clipped voice.

  Seeing the look on his face, Toya went from wrath to helpless female in the blink of an eye. “I don’t know what I’m saying or doing right now. I’m beside myself with worry. Could I talk to you privately?”

  “He just came from the hospital. He does need to rest sometime,” Rae said through clenched teeth.

  Toya ignored her, and dabbed at her eyes. “Grandfather isn’t doing much better and Darcy keeps leaving to take care of business. Grandmother Cecile has gone to pieces…” Her voice broke.

  Simon turned to Rae. “I’m headed to my office anyway, so…”

  “You’re not fooled by that act, are you?” Rae muttered.

  “That’s not fair. Toya is real sensitive,” Simon whispered, “especially when it comes to Mr. Henry. I won’t be long and then–”

  “Right. See ya,” Rae cut him off, and stood up.

  “I’ll come by later. Let’s plan to sit out on the porch at the dance hall. Just you, me, and a breeze off the bayou. Okay?” His eyes pleaded for understanding.

  “Sure.” Rae gave him a weak smile.

  Her stomach roiled at the sight of them together. They were from the same world. Simon, in his expensive casual clothes – from his shirt to his shoes, he looked natural beside Toya. Why did she get the feeling that Simon was walking away from her in more ways than one?

  *

  Ellis Mouton formed a steeple with his slender fingers. His attention seemed focused on the antique Audubon print of a Louisiana brown pelican, which hung on his office wall. Darcy sat in a casual pose, seemingly undisturbed by the other man’s silence. Mouton’s senior vice-president, Carl Waguespack, fidgeted.

  “How much longer will there be a delay? We can’t afford to let one more thing put off this plant being built. The Pantheon people are getting restless,” Carl blurted out finally.

  Darcy examined his neat fingernails while the seconds ticked by. “Sheriff Thibodeaux says only one more day.”

  “I think there are too many complications. Now we have a murder investigation to contend with, of all things. It’s just been one problem after another.” Carl looked at Darcy as though this latest development was his fault.

  “I’ve spoken to Raymond, one of the project managers at Pantheon. He’s going out with the civil engineer to walk through the layout. They’re going ahead with their schedule. Building starts Monday.”
Darcy glanced at Ellis and back at his hands.

  “Finding a body didn’t at least cause a tiny ripple?” Ellis raised a dark eyebrow.

  Darcy shrugged. “Oh, there is some passing interest. But it doesn’t have any impact on their plans.”

  “What about the road? That certainly does impact the new plant, Mr. Mouton,” Carl said. “It’s a crime scene and could be tied up longer, depending on what the police find.”

  “Not according to what the state police told Sheriff Thibodeaux. Those forensics folks are pretty thorough these days. They’ll gather what they need and then the real investigation begins in a laboratory.” Darcy beamed a smile at Ellis. “Naturally, I’ve discussed this with him in some detail.”

  “So, a little thing like murder shouldn’t stand in the way of commerce?” Ellis studied him with an amused gleam in his dark eyes.

  Darcy tilted his head. “Since it doesn’t concern us, why should a multi-billion-dollar company, vital to the parish economy, be hampered?”

  “Ah, I see.” Ellis gazed at Darcy with open admiration.

  Carl’s thin mouth was a tight line. “I think we should go with our alternative plans. We can’t afford to find out later on, after construction has begun, that there are other complications.”

  “There won’t be any other complications. In the unlikely event that there are, they’ll be handled with the same efficiency as we’ve dealt with others.” Darcy’s smile grew stiff; his voice held an edge.

  “Mr. Mouton, the Trosclair property is still on the market.” Carl spoke to Ellis in a tone that dismissed Darcy.

  “You’ve been discussing plans that don’t involve Jove Enterprises?” Darcy asked. His full lips curved up, but the expression was no longer one of satisfaction.

  “We have extensive experience with major projects. It is our standard operating procedure to develop contingency plans.” Carl spoke as though instructing a dense child. His voice dripped with barely suppressed condescension.

  “Jove Enterprises has acted in good faith. My company has gone to considerable expense in this venture. Not to mention that I set up the deal with Pantheon. Now you think you can cut me out?” Darcy no longer looked like the bored, young man playing at big business. He had a cold, knife-sharp quality.