Sweet Mystery

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Sweet Mystery Page 26

by Emery, Lynn


  “So that’s it? I’m dismissed without any of my questions being answered?” He turned to face her again.

  Rae walked up to him. “You come over here and insult me, and then demand answers. Who the hell do you think you are anyway?”

  “You’ve had an attitude for the last few weeks,” he shouted back. “Every time you’ve seen me with Toya, you started sniping. I tried to put up with it. Let it slide.”

  “Don’t do me any favors,” Rae shot back.

  “I should have seen it before.” Simon scoured her with a head to toe look that said he was repelled by what he saw.

  “Maybe she’s more your kind than I am. You deserve each other.” Rae was breathing hard with the effort to keep the tears from falling. “Get off my property. Now!” She kicked open the screen door.

  “So this is the Rae Dalcour everyone tried to warn me about,” Simon said in bitter voice. He went through the open door without looking back.

  Rae watched him stride across her front yard to his truck. His long, powerful legs moved fast, as though he couldn’t wait to put distance between them. She wanted to scream some stinging last remark so he wouldn’t have the last word. Yet her throat seemed to have rope wrapped around it, choking off any speech. Part of her was still angry; another part was all ready in mourning for what she’d lost. The realization hit her like a blow in the mid-section: Simon was out of her life.

  “I was stupid for jumping into something with the guy anyway,” Rae mumbled to herself. “He wasn’t my type. Bourgeoisie, lame creep.” She tried to make herself believe, but there was no heat behind the words. Her voice broke and the tears finally came.

  *

  “I tell you, Harold, this is somethin’ else.” Sheriff Thibodeaux threw his pen down in disgust. “We hardly have a petty theft in months and then Belle Rose gets a crime wave within two weeks.”

  “Yep, we seem to have hit an upswing in the last few weeks. Looks like life is gonna be interesting for a while.” Harold eased down into the chair opposite the sheriff’s desk.

  “Humph, I like bein’ bored,” Sheriff Thibodeaux exclaimed. “Give me nice and quiet over interestin’ any day.”

  Harold grinned at him. “I hear you, man. But interesting is what you’ll get with a skeleton to identify and a suspicious fire to sort out.”

  Sheriff Thibodeaux leaned forward. “Lots of talk goin’ round ‘bout this fire. Is that why you come to see me?”

  “Yep.” Harold scratched at the stubble on his face and thought for a few seconds. “Tim says he’s got a suspicion that fire was started, but…”

  “But, what?”

  “He can’t prove it. The heat melted the wire coverings, so there’s just no way of telling if they were tampered with. The flames were intense; there was just enough oxygen to feed it pretty good in that confined area.” Harold tapped out a beat on the arm of the chair with his blunt fingertips.

  “Then what makes Tim thinks it is arson?”

  “He says those wires weren’t top of the line, but he can’t find any good reason why there should have been a short.”

  Sheriff Thibodeaux shook his head. “That don’t mean there wasn’t one. Still, Tim ain’t no fool. Even if he is my crazy cousin’s youngest.”

  “John, if Tim says it is suspicious then count on it. I got him the best training down in Baton Rouge. The boy knows what he’s talking about,” Harold said with conviction.

  “Then you want me to question Rae Dalcour? Guess she’s got big insurance on the place.” Sheriff Thibodeaux’s blue eyes narrowed.

  “I already talked to Tony Baranco. She’s got the standard coverage; nothing out of the ordinary.” Harold looked at his old pal. “It doesn’t feel right, it being her, I mean.”

  “Keepin’ to the simple explanation always works in crime, Harold. The one with the most to gain is the one most likely done it. I didn’t need no fancy trainin’ to teach me that.” Sheriff Thibodeaux nodded.

  “Didn’t Kedrick go out to the dance hall one night to investigate a prowler? Some in town would just as soon see the place closed and Rae leave,” Harold said.

  “Yeah, Deputy Wilson did file a report, but he didn’t see nothin’. We only got her word somebody was out there.”

  “But Simon was there and there was some spray paint on the wall outside, right?”

  “Simon didn’t see nobody either. And she coulda put that paint on the wall to make her story sound convincin’.” Sheriff Thibodeaux was warming to his theory. He appeared excited at the prospect of solving one possible crime and restoring the peace in his small town.

  Harold waved a hand at him. “Nah, John. I don’t buy it.”

  “Aw come on. From all I been hearin’ lately, folks say she’s been a bit wild all her life.” Sheriff Thibodeaux stuck his chin out. He glanced at Harold as though his friend was being disloyal by not allowing him to wrap up at least one case in a neat package. “Maybe she decided getting her money without the hassle of runnin’ the place was easier.”

  “I’ve known Rae Dalcour all her life. She’s got a temper and a smart mouth for sure. But this just doesn’t fit her.”

  “People change, man. She’s been in the big city, hangin’ with them musicians. Could be she’s graduated from the minor stuff to the big league.” Sheriff Thibodeaux looked at Harold with the glint of a hunter scenting his prey.

  “Rae is on a mission to keep a promise to her late daddy. I don’t think she’d burn the place.”

  Sheriff Thibodeaux threw up both hands. “Things can’t be simple these days,” he said with a sigh. Much as he wanted a solution, he could not deny that he trusted his old pal’s judgment.

  Harold looked at him with sympathy on his dark brown face. “If it’ll help any, Tim is hoping some real high-tech tests at the state police crime lab will give us more.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” the sheriff said without enthusiasm.

  “Really, man. Those tests are so advanced these days; same as with other forensic techniques.” Harold tried to sound encouraging.

  “Sure…” Sheriff Thibodeaux’s mood lightened a bit after a few moments of thought. “Maybe we might just be able to find out how they did it. And that could point a finger at who did it.”

  “The state police crime lab is state of the art.”

  The ringing phone cut off a comment from the sheriff. He lifted the receiver and gave a grunt of satisfaction. “Speakin’ of which, this is them. Yeah,” he said into the phone. “Uh-huh. Uh-huh.” He was writing on a notepad furiously. “Say what? Pooyah-ee!”

  “What?” Harold asked, leaning forward eagerly. He wondered at the look of disbelief on the sheriff’s face.

  “Yeah, thanks.” Sheriff Thibodeaux put the receiver down with a bang. “Thanks for nothin’,” he added with energy. He combed his thick fingers through the sandy, thinning hair on his head.

  “Is this about the bones they found?”

  “This ain’t been my week, Harold. Hell, this ain’t my month.”

  “How bad can it be? Somebody we know?”

  “Not unless it was in a previous life.” Sheriff Thibodeaux looked at the ceiling.

  “Huh?” Harold blinked at him. “What are you talking about, man?”

  “Those bones been in the ground longer than you and me been alive.” Sheriff Thibodeaux gazed at Harold with a look of resignation that things were going downhill fast. “Buried at least fifty years ago.”

  *

  “So then, what did you say?” Baylor took a sip of his coffee and squinted at his friend, even though the sun was not in his eyes.

  He was sat having breakfast with Simon at an outdoor café in downtown Belle Rose. The two men watched a couple of tour vans loaded with tourists deposit passengers across the street.

  “I said ‘See ya’ and left. That’s what I said.” Simon put his cup down with a thump.

  “Um-hum. Women are something else. They just love throwing stuff like that in each other’s faces. You know, ‘I got your
man, honey!’” Baylor said in a high-pitched voice while doing a double snap of his fingers.

  “Man, that’s exactly what Rae said.” Simon gave a grunt of contempt. “Like I’m some bone they’ve been fighting over.”

  “Who needs it? That’s what I say. And that’s the main reason I enjoy my freedom.” Baylor pointed a forefinger in the air to emphasize his point. “After I pried Claudette’s claws out of my butt, I said no more.”

  “This is my fault. Papa Joe tried to tell me. Grandmama Olivia tried to tell me. But would I listen? No!” Simon leaned back in his chair and folded his arms.

  “Hey, I don’t need any more brick walls to fall on me. I’ve learned my lesson. Call me commitment phobic if you want. I don’t care.” Baylor was intent on his own romantic troubles.

  “What’s up with her anyway? I’m being for real and she’s playing some game. I don’t have time for drama.” Simon looked determined. “Forget her.”

  “Yeah, and I’m lucky I got Claudette outta my system, brother.” Baylor lifted his cup in a salute. “Who needs her throwing her stuff all over my house?”

  “Man, something should have told me I was jumping in too fast with Rae. I usually take my time, you know?”

  “The way she woke me up early on Sundays, banging pots in the kitchen and singing off key,” Baylor said with a frown.

  “Okay I admit it, she had me fooled with those sultry eyes, smiling at me like she’d got some sweet secret.” Simon looked like he just tasted lemons. “She saw me coming.”

  Baylor had a faraway look in his eyes. “Hanging wet panty hose over the towel bar in the master bathroom – that used to drive me crazy.”

  “I didn’t know what hit me once she set her scheming sights on me. I was like a duck caught in hunting season.” Simon seethed with resentment at being used.

  “Claudette made the best blueberry muffins from scratch. Damn!” Baylor licked his lips. “And the way she kissed–”

  “Say, this is the woman who stomped on your cell phone after she listened to a message from an old girlfriend without letting you explain.” Simon punched his shoulder. “Don’t start caving in on me, man.”

  “What? Oh yeah, yeah. One little lunch with Taneka and I’m the villain. So what if she’s fine?” Baylor resumed his self-righteous tone.

  “Women have no sense of proportion.” Simon brought him back to their shared masculine outrage.

  “Okay… and we did have drinks, but you don’t destroy a brother’s property for that.” Baylor held up both hands as if he were the epitome of reason.

  Simon grimaced after a few moments of silence. “Not that Rae wasn’t provoked though. If anyone knows about Toya’s spiteful ways, it’s me.”

  “After ten long years, Claudette should have trusted me. Like I can’t go out with an old friend from school? Humpf! Women!” Baylor shook his head.

  “She’s under a lot of stress these days, too.”

  Simon wished he could at least see Rae from a distance. He’d not seen or spoken to her for four days. Maybe she would be in town on some errand? He craned his neck at the approach of footsteps, only to be disappointed when an older woman appeared.

  “Yeah, Toya has been through a lot with Mr. Henry being so sick.”

  “I was talking about Rae,” Simon murmured. He stared at the beignets on his saucer. They were cold, along with his café au lait.

  “Now don’t you start!” Baylor signaled to the waitress and ordered fresh coffee. “Rae played you, brother – a female hit-and-run artist. She used you for a revenge thang, man.”

  Simon felt a hot chill up his spine at the memory of Rae’s fingers on his skin. Having her wrapped around his body was such a sweet sensation. “But it felt good being used.”

  “Don’t go there, man. Put it out of your mind. Okay, so she gave good love until your brain turned soft as grandmama’s grits. Don’t think about it.”

  Simon raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh sure, just like you’ve forgotten Claudette…”

  “Exactly,” Baylor said firmly.

  Simon let out a sharp laugh. “Let’s face it, we both bumped into women who took us high and then dropped us hard. It’s going to take time to move on.”

  Baylor looked thoughtful. “I guess.”

  Now he would never unravel the sweet mystery hidden behind that voluptuous smile and those big brown eyes, sparkling with mischief. Though they had been lovers for fewer than three months, Simon knew the memory of being wrapped in Rae’s soft arms would linger for a long time.

  Still, she had been able to dismiss him without much effort. Rae Dalcour would not let anyone close to her. She took life and love only on her own terms. No room for compromise; no letting down her guard. He realized he should have paid attention to what folks said about her.

  Simon summoned up the memory of the vengeful Rae; face twisted with malice. It was an image he badly needed in order to counteract the hot desire to touch her that gnawed at him constantly. Her words, sharp and mean, played in his mind with the clarity of a compact disc. They had moved too fast, ignoring their differences in the heat of passion.

  He breathed in deeply. “It’s just as well, Baylor. Rae and I were bound to crash and burn. I’m a classic jazz and white wine guy. She’s a blues and beer, sassy lady. I would have bored her after a while.”

  “True that,” Baylor agreed. “You are kinda into the quiet life.”

  Simon scowled at him. “You saying I’m a geek?”

  Baylor’s eyes went wide when he realized what he’d said. “No, no. What I’m saying is you like routine.”

  “So, I’m in a rut?”

  “No, I mean… Routine is good,” Baylor blurted out. “Same old, same old is your thing.”

  “Say what?” Simon squinted at him.

  “But that’s good,” Baylor put in quickly. “You’re steady; I mean stable. Lighten up, brother.”

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to get all defensive. After so many years of dealing with Toya, I thought I was through with this kind of rollercoaster ride.” Simon pressed his fingertips to his eyelids.

  “Look, man, Rae is way too volatile for your temperament. This breakup is for the best.”

  “Right.” Simon put his sunglasses back on. Then why did he feel so wrong?

  *

  “Rae Dalcour, you’re crazy, lettin’ that fine man walk away!” Tante Ina pursed her lips.

  “You were the one dogging out his family for being snooty.” Rae sat at her aunt’s kitchen table. Her mood was not helped by this unexpected reception.

  “That was before I met him. Looka here, I been knowin’ you since you was in diapers. Don’t tell me your eyes didn’t light up soon as you heard he was Toya’s ex-husband?” Tante Ina held her coffee cup poised, waiting for answer.

  “I didn’t–”

  “Don’t play me for stupid, gal.” Tante Ina put her cup down. “I’ve seen you many a time get boys all whipped up just for the fun of it.”

  “I was a kid, for goodness sakes. I’d never do…” Rae’s voice died at the skeptical and wise look that Tante Ina wore. “Okay, so maybe it did interest me when I found out they’d been married. But that wasn’t the only reason I went out with Simon,” she added defensively.

  “No, course not. He’s one good-lookin’ young fella. Still, that probably was lagniappe to you. Here you got yourself a way to get back at the Joves and the St. Cyrs. Bet you anything his granddaddy had a fit ‘bout him keepin’ company with a Dalcour.”

  “Maybe.” Rae shifted in her seat and did not look at Tante Ina.

  “That means he did,” Tante Ina quipped. “And here you are, havin’ yourself a big time. Showin’ up folks with your new dance hall and runnin’ round town with a St. Cyr. Toya musta been grittin’ her teeth so hard they down to nubs.”

  “Okay, so I had fun. I was overdue, Tante.” Rae stared into the dark coffee she swirled in her mug. “Long overdue…”

  “Cher, I know.”

  “They’d
say ‘What can you expect, that’s one of Lucien kids.’ But I never let any of them tell me who I was or was not going to be,” Rae said in a fierce voice.

  All the bitter memories of her childhood came flooding back. The snickers when she walked past after one of Lucien’s famous drunken tirades about his father. The way girls like Toya whispered lies that made boys think she was promiscuous. Anger welled up inside at how much she’d had to endure. By the time she was fourteen, Rae had decided to strike back.

  At sixteen, all those girls secretly envied her. Boys fell over each other just to have her smile at them. They even began to defend her when the girls made nasty remarks. Rae would lure a boy to her, enjoying the game of making him lovesick, and then toss him aside without a backward glance. Yes, revenge became my weapon of choice. Now that weapon seemed to have blown up in her face.

  “You got caught in your own trap. Ain’t that right, cher?” Tante Ina spoke to her in a soothing voice, full of sympathy.

  Rae opened her mouth to deny it, but her voice would not work. A fist of anguish closed around her throat. Yes, it was true. Her first thought had been to make Toya burn with jealousy. Her little plan had not taken account of falling in love with Simon so hard or so fast.

  “Okay, so I did get sorta attached to him. But that doesn’t mean I can’t live without him,” Rae said, her voice rising. “He just wants the best of both worlds – staying all up under Toya and her grandfather to keep his business afloat. It’s sickening.”

  “You think so?” Tante Ina looked dubious at this explanation. “I hear he paid Mr. Henry’s loan back several years ago. Got his own reputation now. Why folks from all over Louisiana call him to–”

  “Oh, who cares?” Rae burst out. “Can’t we talk about something else?” She jumped up. “I’m going for a walk.”

  “All right, cher. It’s a fine evenin’ for a walk. Nice breeze, mais, yeah.” Tante Ina clucked like a mother hen.

  “And stop looking at me like that,” Rae said with a puff of frustration.

  “Like what, sugar sweet?” Tante Ina put a comforting plump arm around her shoulder.

  Rae’s lip trembled at the old endearment; one Tante Ina always used when she tried to ease the most painful hurts brought to her by one of her brood.

 

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