Bayou Paradox

by Robin Caroll

  Hard lines shadowed the corners of her eyes. “I found her like that. Just…just lying there…unconscious.”

  “I know.” His voice cracked as emotion clogged his throat. He swallowed, hard. “We’ll get a report from the hospital as soon as possible.” He squeezed her shoulder. “I need you to come into the living room now.”

  He cupped his hand under her elbow and gently urged her to stand. “Just a couple of questions.”

  She kept her hands splayed open as she moved down the hall. Bubba led her toward the living room. She swayed every couple of steps. Tara LeBlanc might be many things, but weird topped the list.

  He helped her to the couch. She plopped onto it, all the while shaking her head and mumbling, “Tanty has to be all right. I just talked to her this morning. She didn’t mention not feeling well.”

  Duty called, despite his tangled emotions. Bubba pulled out his notebook and sat on the edge of the chair adjacent to her. He licked the tip of his pencil. “What time this morning did you talk to Tanty?”

  Tara blinked several times before focusing on his face. “Around ten or so. I’d called to ask her a question.”

  “About what?”

  “A potion.”

  The voodoo stuff. His heart sank. His aunt had never accepted the free gift of salvation. What if she didn’t regain consciousness in the hospital? Regret pushed bile into the back of his throat. “I see.” What else could he say?

  Tara’s eyes narrowed as she studied him. “I know you’re into all that church stuff like my family, but you don’t have to be so obvious in your disapproval of others’ way of life.”

  He gripped the pencil so hard it was a wonder the instrument didn’t snap in two. Just let it go. “Why’d you come here?”

  “I’ve been training under Tanty.”

  Right. He remembered now. Mrs. LeBlanc, Tara’s grandmother, had just recently accepted Jesus into her heart. He’d heard she joined CoCo’s church a couple of months ago. Too bad his aunt had stepped in as a replacement role model for the youngest LeBlanc. “What time did you arrive?”

  “About nine or so.”

  “Did you notice anything out of place?”

  She popped her knuckles. Ah, a sign of distress. “She’d left a burner on in the workhouse. The roots had dried up and burned.”

  “That’s unusual?” He avoided his aunt’s shed like the plague. Creeped him out.

  “For Tanty it is. And there were some loose papers in her file cabinet. Not like her at all. She’s very fanatical about her workstation being kept in pristine condition.” She glanced around the living room. “Like she is about her house.”

  A memory pressed forward in his mind: Him, as a teen, rushing into the house to tell Aunt Tanty about making first string in football. He’d forgotten all about his dirty cleats. But not his aunt. Oh, but no. She’d hollered at him to take those “muddy clodhoppers” to the back porch. But she’d listened and commented on his accomplishment with excitement—while he swept and mopped her wooden floors.

  “When I didn’t find her in the workhouse, I came here to look for her.”

  He’d almost let memory lane distract him from doing his job. Maybe he should have Anderson take over. No. He owed it to Aunt Tanty to find out what happened. “Do you have a key?”

  “I do, but didn’t have to use it. The kitchen door was open.”

  Like most people in Lagniappe, his aunt often left doors unlocked. “You didn’t move anything in the house, did you?”

  “No, except I pushed open the bedroom door. Oh, and I used the phone in her bedroom to call your office.” She shook her head. “I didn’t even think to use my cell.”

  He glanced over the room. No sign of a struggle, no forced entry. He breathed a sigh, glad he wouldn’t have to answer to the mayor on this call.

  “Someone did this to her, you know.”

  He jerked his attention back to Tara. “What?”

  “She didn’t just fall down. Someone set out to hurt her.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  She met his stare head-on. “I can feel the spirits here.”

  Great. The spirits. Such reliable eye-witnesses.

  Lord, please give me strength.

  TWO

  “Grandmere, Grandmere. Where are you?” Tara let the kitchen screen door slam closed.

  “Coming, child.”

  Grandmere shuffled into the kitchen and grasped the back of a chair. “What’s put a bee in your bonnet?”

  “It’s Tanty Shaw. She’s been taken to the hospital.”

  “Oh, mercy me!” Grandmere’s long hair stuck out at odd angles from her head. The belt on her robe hung slack. “What happened, ma chère?”

  Tara shook her head. “I found her unconscious in her bedroom.”

  “What’d the doctor say?”

  “They took her to the hospital. The sheriff was headed there when he left her house.”

  “The sheriff? That poor boy.” Grandmere shook her head.

  Poor boy? Funny, he didn’t impress Tara as someone who needed sympathy. He’d been strong and dutiful. And rather strong and handsome, too, although she wouldn’t admit that little fact. She’d known the sheriff since she was a toddler and never thought him handsome. Why now? Tara shook her head and answered her grandmother. “I called 9-1-1, and he came. Showed up right after the ambulance left with Tanty.”

  “Did he say anything? Was anything amiss?”

  “Not really. But Tanty had left a burner on in her workhouse and loose papers about.”

  “That’s not like her. Has she been acting daft?”

  “No.”

  “Maybe she had a heart attack.” Grandmere’s hand fluttered to her chest, and her face paled. Probably remembering her own heart attack a little over a year ago.

  “No, someone did this to her.”

  “Who? What?”

  “I don’t know, but I intend to find out.”

  “But if she was unconscious, how do you know?” Her grandmother’s expression softened. “Sometimes health conditions aren’t easily detected, child.”

  “No, I know someone did this to her.”

  “How?”

  “I felt it, Grandmere. I sat on the floor where I found her, and I knew. The spirits told me.”

  Grandmere’s lips pressed into a straight line and her brow furrowed. “Tara Leigh LeBlanc, you listen to me. I was wrong to ever teach you such evil things. That I did is on my heart. You’re messin’ with some dangerous stuff, and you need to stop. Right now.”

  Tara felt as if her heart had been gripped in a vise. “No, you weren’t wrong. It’s working, Grandmere. I can hear them…feel them. They want to help me find out who did this to Tanty.”

  “Those spirits are not of God. You stop treading where—”

  Tara held up her hands. “Enough. I don’t want to hear about God for the umpteenth time. Fine. I get it. You’re all gaga over that stuff. Believe what you want, and I’ll do the same.”

  She spun to the sink and twisted the tap on high. How could her grandmother just ignore what she’d practiced for a lifetime?

  Water spurted into the porcelain sink, drowning out her grandmother’s words. Tara grabbed a glass with shaking hands and shoved it under the stream, then gulped down the cool water. Why couldn’t things have just stayed the same? And even though Grandmere had turned away from voodoo, she had to at least acknowledge the practice was real. Why wouldn’t she discuss what Tara knew the spirits had told her?

  Small beams of light outside the window grabbed her attention, and she turned the knob slowly to cut off the water. “Grandmere, someone’s in the bayou.”

  “Oh, yes. A nice young man came by after you left and asked if he could gather a little foliage for some type of research his company is conducting.”

  That Yankee from the pharmaceutical company! Tara didn’t bother replying to her grandmother. She snatched a flashlight from the top of the icebox, shoved open the screen door and hurried
across the uneven ground, littered with half-buried tree roots. Research, my foot. Hadn’t she made it clear he wasn’t welcome? She punctuated her steps with venomous thoughts. She so wasn’t in the mood to deal with such cooyons—stupid people—twice in one day.

  She pushed through the underbrush, ignoring the thorns and brambles scraping against her bare legs. The beam of her flashlight bounced off the parched and cracked ground. Idiotic people to be out in the bayou at night. Were they trying to get themselves killed? Her sister’s pet alligator, Moodoo, loved to hang around this part of the swampland. Didn’t these imbeciles understand that the bayou’s wildlife came alive at night? Most were reptiles, and not at all friendly.

  “Hey!”

  Beams of light shot to her face, blinding her. She stopped and shielded her eyes with her hand. “Move your lights, will ya?”

  The rays fell to the ground. Tara continued stomping toward the group of four. “What’re y’all doing here?” She glared at the leader, whatever his name was. “Didn’t I tell you today you weren’t welcome on my land? Was I unclear?”

  He flashed his row of pearly whites. “We talked to your grandmother, I believe she is, and she gave us permission to be here.”

  Tara sucked in air. His smiling really got on her nerves. “Consider this my revoking of that permission.”

  “Now, now, little lady, we’re just gathering some plants and will be on our way. What’s the harm?”

  Little lady? Chauvinistic cooyon! She gripped the flashlight tighter. “Besides the fact that you’re just asking to get bit by a snake or gator?” She shook her head. “Never mind. I’m telling you to get off my land one last time.”

  “Snakes?” The woman in the group sidled up beside him. Her chic hair shimmered in the near darkness. “Maybe we should leave.”

  “Yeah, maybe you should.” Tara flashed her beam of light to the other two men. They held little cloth bags with leaves peeking out. Desecrating her bayou. She curled her free hand into a tight fist. “Now would be smart.”

  “I think we have enough anyway, boss,” one of the other men mumbled.

  Tara shot her light to the leader’s face—what was his name? “Why are y’all out here at night, anyway? What are you hiding? What’re you really doing?”

  “Come on, Vincent. Let’s just get out of here.” The woman clung to his arm, her red polished nails glimmering. A model lookalike was part of a pharmaceutical research team?

  Vincent—that was his name—shrugged off the woman’s grip. “Like I told you, we’re just gathering some samples to run a few tests.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Tara ground her teeth. “You have to just go.”

  “No need to be rude.” The woman tossed her blond hair defiantly.

  “Hannah.” Vincent took the woman’s elbow and nodded at Tara. “Forgive us. We’ll head out now.”

  “And don’t come back again or I’ll call the police.”

  He stared at her for a long moment before giving her a curt nod and leading the others through the bayou toward the canal. Interesting that they didn’t come into the offshoot the way they had earlier. Were they sneaking in? What were they really up to? Reputable research teams didn’t skulk around the swamp at night.

  She waited until the roar of their boat engine grew faint and then headed back to the house. What had Grandmere been thinking, granting them permission? It was that new religion stuff. Three months ago, Grandmere would’ve protected the plants in the bayou like a lioness protecting her cubs. Now she wasn’t even concerned about what she once cared most about.

  All due to the meddling of her sisters.

  The moon rushed from cloud to cloud. Too bad the billows weren’t heavy with rain. Lagniappe needed rain something fierce.

  Tara wiped her feet on the rug before entering the kitchen. She eased the screen door closed, not wanting to disturb Grandmere if she’d gone back to bed. She treaded lightly across the wooden floor, which creaked, anyway, into the living room.

  “I called the hospital to check on Tanty.”

  Tara jumped at her grandmother’s voice. “I thought you’d gone to bed.”

  “Non, not with my friend in the hospital, ma chère.”

  “What’d they say?” Tara plopped on the threadbare couch beside her grandmother.

  “Just that her condition hasn’t changed. She’s still in a coma. René’s with her.”

  “Who’s René?”

  Grandmere chuckled. “The sheriff.”

  Tara snorted. Big macho cop stuck with such a feminine name, even if it was a throwback to his French ancestors. “No wonder everybody calls him Bubba.” She couldn’t help but recall how the pain had flickered in his eyes when he’d talked to her about Tanty. Kind. Caring. Gentle. Wait a minute, she didn’t want to think of him like that. Her voice lost all trace of laughter. “Grandmere, I don’t want those people on our land anymore. Respectable research teams don’t sneak in and pillage leaves under cover of darkness.”

  “I didn’t realize they’d be out there at night when they asked, child. Pharmaceutical companies have been sending people out here for plants and such ever since I can remember. They take a couple of samples and go on their merry way. It’s normal.”

  “But not these. Please, Grandmere, don’t give them permission if they ask again.”

  The old woman nodded and struggled to her feet. “They probably won’t show up again, anyway.” She groaned under her breath. “I’m going to bed now. Bonsoir.”

  Tara waited until her grandmother shuffled down the hall into her bedroom before she decided to raid the icebox. Adrenaline wouldn’t allow her to sleep just yet. She bit into a fried chicken leg, holding it with her teeth as she grabbed a soda. She stood at the sink, eating her late-night snack without really tasting the cayenne pepper tingling her taste buds, and mulling over the day’s events.

  Tanty’s condition wasn’t a sudden illness. Someone had deliberately harmed her. Tara was sure of it. She tossed the bone into the trash, gulped down the last of the soda, then disposed of the can. She’d find out who was behind this attack on Tanty. And she knew just where to start.

  Her shed. It was time to do some conjuring.

  The morning sun crested over the line of the trees surrounding the hospital. From his perch in the ICU waiting room on the fourth floor, Bubba witnessed the purple streaks giving way to orange. Breathtaking, really. He had to concentrate on something—anything besides where he stood. The last time he’d been in this hospital, he’d been a patient. On this very floor, fighting for his life. He’d gotten too close to an arms-smuggling ring, and had been beaten and left for dead in the middle of a road. If Alyssa LeBlanc, Tara’s sister, hadn’t come along when she did…Not exactly a happy memory.

  He turned from the window and glanced at the clock on the wall. Five more minutes and the staff would let him see Aunt Tanty again. The nurses had kept him updated during the night on his aunt’s condition. No change. Preliminary tests gave no indications of the cause of her illness. He prayed for the best.

  Prayed hard.

  He blinked burning eyes. Wearing contacts for only a couple of months, he still hadn’t gotten accustomed to his eyes drying out. He dug in his pocket for his contact solution and administered a few drops. After his visit, he’d run home and take a quick shower, grab a bite and then head into the office. He’d have to file his report, and he hadn’t a clue what to say. He knew nothing. Natural causes? People didn’t just fall into a coma, did they? The gas company representative would be at Aunt Tanty’s this morning to inspect for leaks. Maybe he’d get a clue from that. Either way, he’d make sure he returned to the hospital in time for a noon visit with his aunt.

  “Sheriff.”

  He spun toward the door to the waiting room, expecting to see one of the nurses informing him it was time for his fifteen minutes with Aunt Tanty. Instead, Tara LeBlanc stood there. Weird, yes, but she sure looked pretty framed by the doorway.

  He shook his head to clear the thought
. Must be sleep deprivation. “Yes?”

  “How is she?”

  “The same. I get to visit her in a few minutes.”

  Tara nodded, her dark hair brushing her shoulders, and crossed to him. “Have they said what caused this?”

  The questions behind her perceptive eyes matched his own. “They’re running various tests.”

  “Someone did this to her.”

  Bubba ran a tongue over his teeth, wishing at times like this he hadn’t given up dipping. “We’ll get to the bottom of it.”

  “You going into the office today?”

  “After I see Aunt Tanty.”

  “I’ll stay here and call you if there’s any change.”

  He offered her his first genuine smile. “You don’t have to do that. The nurse will page me.”

  “I’d like to stay for a while. Maybe get to see her.” Her voice held an edge of determination…and hope.

  “Sure.”

  “I need to come by the station later, anyway.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to do that. I already have your statement.” He looked at her for a moment.

  She set her chin and shook her head. “This is something else. I need to report trespassers, file a complaint or something.”

  “Trespassing? Where?” He reached automatically for his notebook and pencil.

  “The bayou. LeBlanc property.”

  “When?” He jotted down a note.

  “Yesterday and then again last night.”

  He stopped writing. “Last night?”

  “By flashlight. Gathering plants. They say they’re with some pharmaceutical company doing research.”

  Oh. Nothing to get excited about. Bubba slipped the notebook back into his pocket. “Fairly common around here. You should know that.”

  “After midnight? After I’d already told them to get off my property?”

  He let out a long breath and caught sight of a nurse waving at him from the doorway. “You can come by and file a complaint, but chances are, they won’t be back. If you’ll excuse me, it’s time for my visit with Aunt Tanty.”

  Following the nurse down the hallway, Bubba pondered Tara’s adamant claim that someone had made his aunt sick. From training, he knew some criminals tried to “help” the police as a way to assuage their guilt. Others just wanted to get caught. Was Tara one of those?