by Robin Caroll
“Help me?” She pushed off from the wall and stepped into his personal space. “If you want to help me, why aren’t you out there trying to find out who poisoned my grandmother? That’d be a help, instead of me trying to do it on my own.”
Ah. That was what this was about. No wonder the mayor was livid; he detested those who practiced voodoo. “What did you do, Tara?”
“I merely told him something I know.”
“Which was?”
“Private, like I said.”
“Look. Something caused him to call me and yell for over fifteen minutes in my ear. What did you say?”
“Well, I have reason to suspect the mayor might have been involved with what happened to Grandmere and your aunt.”
“Based on what? Your voodoo again?”
“If you don’t want to hear the answer, don’t ask the question, Sheriff.” She turned and took a step.
Bubba grabbed her arm and pulled her back to him. He tugged a little too hard, and she landed against his chest. The fresh scent of her perfume, or maybe it was shampoo, swarmed his senses, intoxicating him. He dropped her arm and stood staring at her, fighting to regulate his breathing. She’d never looked so beautiful before.
How could this young woman he’d known for years suddenly cause such a response in him?
She glared into his face and stepped backward. “Don’t touch me again,” she ground out from between clenched teeth. “Ever.”
“I’m sorry. I’m just trying to—”
“Help. So you’ve said.”
“Why don’t you believe me?”
“Why won’t you believe me?” She crossed her arms again.
Impasse.
“Ms. LeBlanc? You may see your grandmother now.”
Tara nodded at the nurse, but didn’t break eye contact with him. “Is there anything else, Sheriff?”
Something about the challenge in her eyes undid him.
“Yes.” He pulled her to him again. “Come here. I am going to touch you again, but only to give you a hug. You’ve been all alone in this until your sisters showed up, and I know this is hard. I do want to find out what happened to Aunt Tanty and your grandmother. No, we will find out what happened to them.” He pulled Tara to his chest and held her gently. Tara went stiff for a fraction of a second, then relaxed against him.
As quickly as he’d charged, he retreated. She wobbled in his embrace. He steadied her. “You’d better go see your grandmother.”
For once, Tara LeBlanc was speechless. She gave a curt nod before marching down the hall.
What was wrong with him? What had he done? He was supposed to warn her to stay away from the mayor, not hold her in his arms and make promises he didn’t know how to keep.
But how his heart had pounded as he’d held her.
He was so in a world of hurt.
ELEVEN
Sooner or later, something had to give.
At least, that was the philosophy Tara held to at the moment. She pulled two more leaves from the stem and ground them in the stone mortar with the pestle. Daylight quickly faded into night, streaks of purple decorating the skyline over the trees. If she planned to finish preserving the foliage before it got too late, she’d better get to crackin’.
And what about the sheriff’s embrace? What was up with that?
She ground the leaves almost to liquid and then froze. If she didn’t pay better attention, she’d ruin the stock. With the droughtlike weather, she couldn’t afford to waste a single leaf or stem. She’d have to keep her wits about her. Now wasn’t the time to ponder Bubba Theriot’s motives or actions.
Even if his hug had felt like coming home.
Tara slammed the pestle onto the table, her hands trembling. What was happening to her? A simple hug from a man she didn’t particularly like right now reduced her to a simpering mess. She shook her head. No. She’d deal with figuring out her emotions later. Right now, she had to concentrate on making the healing potion and figuring out who did this to Grandmere and Tanty.
Suzie Richard’s face flashed across her mind as fast as a hurricane making landfall. Tara’s hands stilled. Suzie. She’d acted so strangely. Why was she frightened her husband might find out she’d visited Tanty?
If only Tanty had written what, exactly, Suzie had consulted with her about, maybe then Tara could figure out why the woman kept coming to mind.
Every instinct in Tara told her that Suzie wasn’t involved in the attacks on Grandmere and Tanty, yet she lingered in Tara’s thoughts. Why?
She ground carefully as she went back over every little detail, every movement and nuance of Suzie. Aside from being embarrassed and frightened her husband would find out, nothing else about the woman stuck out.
Tara clenched her teeth. What was she missing?
“What’re you doing?”
Tara jerked around to face Alyssa. “Just grinding some foliage.” What would possess her sister to step foot inside what she’d dubbed a heathen haven?
Wrinkling her nose, Alyssa entered cautiously. “Oh.” Her eyes widened as she gazed about.
“Don’t worry. No head of bat or eye of newt today.”
Alyssa’s cheeks filled with air, then she exhaled slowly. “Ha. Ha.” With a hand pressed to her stomach, she ventured a little farther into the room.
What, no sarcasm from the queen? Tara narrowed her eyes and studied her sister. Alyssa’s color was wan, yet there was a distinct glow about her. A freshness to her skin. Her eyes blinked, the irises sharper, clearer. Even the scar under her lip took on a refreshing radiance. And her hair…it shone under the fluorescent lighting, full of luster and body. Something different, yet not…not sick. Something…
“I wanted to talk to you for a minute.” Even Alyssa’s voice came out softer. She leaned her hip against the table.
Tara knew in that moment what was different about her sister.
Smiling, she hugged Alyssa. “You’re pregnant!”
Alyssa put her hand on her stomach and gave a little gasp. “How’d you know?”
“I just do.” She squeezed her sister again. “When are you due? How long have you known?”
Alyssa laughed. “We found out right before we came. Doctor says I’m due early February.”
Tara laid her hand on her sister’s stomach and smiled. “Healthy. Do you want to know if it’s a girl or boy?”
“We haven’t decided yet, but we have time. The doctor says we won’t have the ultrasound that can tell the baby’s gender for a couple of months. We’ll decide later if we want to know.”
Tara grinned and hugged her sister again. “Congratulations. I’m so happy for you.”
“You’re gonna be an aunt.”
“That’s so amazing.”
“I know.” Alyssa worried her scar with her finger.
Uh-oh, a sure sign she was nervous. Tara took a step back. “Is something wrong?”
“I, well, I just wanted to let you know Jacks and I have decided to name CoCo and Luc the baby’s godparents.”
CoCo. Not her.
Because CoCo had Luc and are together, they could be godparents? Alyssa would have to find some single guy to be the godfather if she chose Tara as godmother.
She looked back at Alyssa.
No. That wasn’t it.
“Look, Jackson and I talked a long time about this.”
“Hey, it’s your baby. Do what you want.” But pain squeezed Tara’s heart in a viselike grip.
“You aren’t a Christian, Tara.”
“Bet that made your choice easy, yes?” She turned back to the pestle and mortar. “No skin off my back.”
Alyssa laid a hand on Tara’s shoulder. “It’s not like that.”
Tara shrugged off her touch. “It’s not? Oh, I see. This way of life was okay for Grandmere for years. CoCo, too, until she gave it all up for Luc. But because I hold true to the traditions, I’m not good enough to be your baby’s godmother.” She blinked back the tears she refused to let fall in front o
f her sister. “I don’t care. It’s silly, anyway.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
Glaring, Tara met her sister’s gaze. “I’m not hurt. Because you don’t want me to be godmother? That word is offensive to me, anyway.”
“I see.” Alyssa swallowed and licked her lips. “Okay, then. I guess that’s all I needed to say.”
Tara nodded. “Congratulations again. Tell Jackson I’m happy for you both.”
“All right.” Alyssa paused. “CoCo left supper on the stove before she left.” She waited a moment. When Tara didn’t answer, she turned and exited as quietly as she’d entered.
Tara gripped the edges of the table, digging her nails into the worn wood. What was with her lately? Her emotions had become so tangled. Totally unlike her. First Grandmere. Then the sheriff. Now Alyssa. What would stir up her heart next?
She loosened her grip and rested her elbows on the table, cradling her head in her hands. There was something else niggling her. An impression. Some little thing she should be catching. What?
Again her conversation with Suzie flashed through her mind.
The woman’s wobbling. Her sobs. Her pleading not to share the information with anyone. Her tears and hiccups.
Wait! Tara pinched her eyes closed.
Suzie’s hand on her stomach. Just like Alyssa.
Suzie was pregnant!
Tara struggled to recall Tanty’s notes exactly.
Female issue. Recommended to a doctor. Suzie didn’t want her husband to know. She became distraught. The medical procedure didn’t allow for total discretion. Had Suzie become pregnant and wanted an abortion? Nah, couldn’t be. No voodoo priestess would perform such a procedure. Besides, Suzie was married. Didn’t married couples want kids? Wait a minute!
Straightening, Tara opened her eyes. Could it be that Suzie had seen Tanty for infertility problems? That would fit, for sure. Especially if she did end up going to a fertility specialist without her husband’s knowledge and got pregnant. She sure wouldn’t want him to find out, and Tanty would be considered a loose end.
But how did Grandmere fit into the picture?
Maybe Suzie had approached Grandmere before Tanty. No, the time frame didn’t match.
But Grandmere joined the church Suzie attended. The one where her husband was a deacon.
Could Suzie have been afraid Grandmere knew of her visit to Tanty and would say something? That’d be strong motivation to silence both Grandmere and Tanty.
Tara stored her stock and washed the pestle and mortar on autopilot, her mind flipping through the possibilities. The healing potion would be ready tomorrow, and she’d make sure Tanty got a full dose.
Whatever happened with Grandmere and Tanty, Suzie Richard was back on the list of suspects.
Just seeing Tara sent ripples of warmth through him. This had to stop.
He’d managed to avoid her in the ICU halls, darting into Aunt Tanty’s room when Tara passed. Childish? Perhaps. But he didn’t know how to deal with what he was feeling. And he certainly didn’t want to discuss why he’d embraced her.
Or how the embrace had affected him. Next time he might be tempted to kiss her.
His life would be so much simpler if he wasn’t starting to care about Tara LeBlanc so much. Yep, he’d acted on feelings he’d been experiencing for several days. Days? Had it only been days? Felt like years.
Lord, what’s going on with me? Why now? Why her? She doesn’t love You. What do I do?
He let the bushes outside the hospital door shield him as she approached. He definitely didn’t want to run into her out here, where there were no other people. She’d have him at her mercy. He ducked his head as she passed.
She marched toward the parking lot aglow with security lights. He was about to head back to the hospital entrance when something flashed in the lot. Just a flicker of light from the old pickup truck parked a row behind her car.
He inched free of the bushes and obtained a clearer view.
Car lights on, Tara pulled slowly from the parking space. She headed toward the exit.
The truck’s lights popped on, and the engine rattled to life. It followed Tara’s car at a distance of about two car lengths.
Coincidence? Or was someone deliberately following Tara? With all that had been happening lately he couldn’t chance it.
Bubba sprinted across the lot and into his truck. He quickly caught up to the pickup and reached for his radio. After calling in the license-plate number, he kept the pickup and Tara’s car in his line of sight while he waited for the dispatcher, Missy, to give him the report.
Three right turns and the pickup continued to follow Tara. Now he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she had a tail.
The radio crackled. “Sheriff?”
“Go ahead, Missy.”
“Truck is registered to a Melvin Dubois. Need the address?”
“No. Can you check and see if there are any warrants out on Mr. Dubois?”
“Sure thing. Hang on.”
Static filled the cabin of his truck. A left turn, followed by a right. The pickup still kept a safe distance behind Tara, but was definitely following her. Every so often it’d veer toward the shoulder, only to jerk back onto the pavement.
The radio crackled again. “Sheriff?”
“Go ahead, Missy.”
“Nothing outstanding.”
“Priors?”
“Two DUIs and one public disturbance.”
“How long ago?”
“Last DUI was three months ago. Public disturbance back in October.”
“Thanks.”
“Sheriff?”
“Yes?”
“Need me to send Deputy Anderson your way?”
Bubba glanced at the pickup still tailing Tara. History of DUIs and public disturbance, not a good mixture. Six more miles and she’d be on the deserted road leading to her house. “Yeah.” He gave Missy his location and direction, then slowed his truck. No sense giving away his presence until backup arrived.
“Any specific instructions, Sheriff?”
“Radio position every five minutes and wait for my directive.”
“Ten-four. Base out.”
He took the turn onto the deserted road almost at a crawl. With no streetlights lining the road, his headlights would give away his cover if the driver of the pickup happened to look in his rearview. The taillights from Tara’s car glowed in the distance as she took a curve.
He couldn’t see the truck. Where was it?
Police instinct pushed Bubba’s foot harder on the gas pedal. He still couldn’t see the truck. There were no turnoffs on this part of the road. It couldn’t have just disappeared.
Then he saw it. A flash of reflection off her taillights as it gained on her. The pickup had its lights off. It would ram into her car any minute now.
So much for waiting for backup. Bubba flipped on his light and activated the siren. The bayou erupted with the wails.
Tara’s brake lights came on, then were darkened by the pickup as it crashed into the back of her car.
The radio in Bubba’s truck squealed to life. Anderson radioed his location, only three or so miles from the turnoff. The sheriff informed him of the situation, then signed off.
In seconds he skidded to a stop behind the pickup and Tara. They’d stopped in the middle of the road. Bubba exited the car, his hand on the grip of his Beretta.
Correction, Tara had stopped. The pickup’s grill was imbedded in her bumper, rendering it unable to move. Wasn’t from lack of trying, however. The man behind the wheel gunned the engine. The pickup jerked, but the bumper held tight.
Tara stood outside the driver’s door. “Are you nuts?”
“Get to the other side of the road. Deputy Anderson will be here in a moment,” Bubba told her.
Once satisfied that she did as instructed without argument, Bubba drew his gun and pointed it at the driver. “Sir, please turn off the truck and exit slowly. Keep your hands where I can see them
.”
A long moment passed. A million scenarios played out in Bubba’s mind. He’d only drawn his firearm a handful of times in the line of duty and had never shot anyone. Would tonight be the night that would all change?
Another siren wailed in the distance. Deputy Anderson, right on schedule.
In the dark, Bubba couldn’t make out the driver or what he was doing. “Sir, I said turn off the engine and exit slowly, keeping your hands where I can see them.” He kept the man in his sights.
The engine died with a cough. The driver’s door opened with a creak. Bubba kept his weapon aimed.
A large man dropped his foot to the pavement. He heaved the rest of his massive bulk from the vehicle, keeping his hands in plain view.
“Step from behind the door and move to the site of impact. Place your palms on the trunk of the car.” Bubba never wavered in his aim.
“What’s this about, Sheriff? I ain’t done nothing wrong.”
“Just do as I say, sir.”
The man swayed as he followed Bubba’s instructions. Once his palms were on the trunk, Bubba patted him down. Not detecting any weapons, he holstered his sidearm and withdrew the handcuffs. He cuffed the man just as Deputy Anderson pulled up. Stepping from the cruiser, Anderson drew his weapon.
Tara, never one to take orders well, crossed the road. “What kind of moron rear-ends someone?”
Bubba shot her a glare. “Be quiet.” He nodded to Anderson. “Take her to your cruiser and get her report of the accident.”
“Accident?” Tara exclaimed. “He rammed into me. Didn’t even have his headlights on.”
“Enough, Tara.” He lowered his voice. “Just go with Deputy Anderson.”
While his deputy escorted Tara to his cruiser, Bubba turned the driver of the pickup to face him. “Do you have a license on you?”
“In my wallet. Back left pocket.”
Bubba reached around and withdrew the worn nylon wallet.
“Why’d you cuff me over an accident?”
Bubba eyed the license. “Mr. Dubois, I’ve been tailing y’all since you left the hospital, and you were following Ms. LeBlanc. I have every reason to believe you rammed her car intentionally.” He reached for his small flashlight.