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 personality.” 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.

Carl stared at him. “We have no contract with Jove Enterprises.”

Darcy leaned forward in his chair. “Ellis, I’ll give you complications you never dreamed possible if you make even one tiny move to cut me out of this.”

“With the extensive Trosclair property, we could go ahead with the plant, regardless of any other... developments.” Carl nodded at Ellis. “It’s certainly a viable solution.”

“I’d be careful bragging on your plans, Carl.” Darcy threw him a disdainful glance. “The dust hasn’t settled on that disaster you orchestrated with Delta Corporation.”

“That wasn’t my fault. Everyone knows the environmentalist had no solid evidence that our process was harmful to the wetlands,” Carl burst out. His face turned red with ire.

“Really? Of course, the fact that the company had scores of clean-water violations with heavy fines in another parish didn’t help. Too bad you didn’t have a contingency plan for that,” Darcy retorted.

Carl looked ready to explode. “Now you wait just a minute. Who do you think you are? I–”

“Carl, calm down.” Ellis spoke in a mild tone.

“But, Mr. Mouton, he’s questioning my competence,” Carl protested. He drew himself up straight. “My family has been in business in this parish for seventy years.”

“Skill in making the big deals must have skipped a generation,” Darcy said with sarcasm.

“One company doesn’t make you a corporate giant!” Carl shot back.

Ellis stood up and stepped around his desk. “Carl, let me talk to Mr. Jove alone.” He ushered the outraged man out the door. “I know, I know.”

The two men spoke in muted voices in the outer office for several moments, before Ellis returned.

Darcy sat once again in a relaxed pose. “Soothed his wounded pride?”

Ellis sat down next to him. “You really shouldn’t provoke him.”

“Carl made it plain what he thinks of me. Now he knows what I think of him. The man is a snob and a bigot.”

“He’s a product of his upbringing. You could say he can’t help what he is, Darcy.” Ellis leaned toward him in a confidential manner.

“Bull.” Darcy gave a grunt. “Forget him anyway.” He waved a hand to dismiss the subject.

“You’re right. The important thing is how does Pantheon really feel? First Raenette Dalcour wouldn’t sell her land and now a body is found in the path of their new road.” Ellis stared at him hard. “Tell me the truth.”

Darcy returned his gaze without a hint that he was tense. “Naturally, smooth sailing would have been preferable. But they’ve spent a lot of money making this site work. Going to another location would be even more problematic.”

“I see.” Ellis did not sound totally convinced.

“Ellis, that flap Carl caused with Delta was only one in a series. A reporter in Baton Rouge has written a scorching set of articles about companies that skirt the environmental rules and spoil Louisiana’s precious landscape,” Darcy said.

Ellis pursed his lips. “Yes, I know. Carl should have done a better job in researching Delta.”

“That’s an understatement,” Darcy quipped.

“But I’m not sure it means anything to us.”

“Locating near a town that welcomes them, and where we’ve done comprehensive environmental studies, is ideal for Pantheon.” Darcy straightened his silk tie. “They’re committed to making it work.”

“You’re dancing on a tightrope, Darcy. One strong wind and you could fall.”

“This plant is a go. Don’t you worry.” Darcy looked certain of his words.

“But I do.” Ellis spoke in a soft voice. “I need assurances that there will be no more ugly surprises.”

“There won’t be.” He started to rise, but Ellis put a restraining hand on his arm.

“You seem very sure of yourself. I hope you’re right.”

Darcy stood up and brushed the sleeves of his jacket. “I am. Just make sure your second banana stays out of my way. You know I deliver.”

“Yes and our association will continue as long as you do.” Ellis was all elegance and grace as he walked back around his large desk. “Keep that in mind.” The implied threat was clear.

“Oh, I know exactly who I’m dealing with on all sides, Ellis. That’s how I’ve been so successful at what I do.” Darcy flashed a handsome grin before sauntering out.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Monmon Cecile, Grandfather prefers more sugar in his tea,” Toya said. She smiled at Henry, who nodded.

“The doctor says he should restrict certain foods. I know what he needs.” She stepped in front of Toya, blocking her view of Henry. “Here now, take this.”

“Cecile, I’m s-sick, not d-dead.” Henry’s voice slurred, yet he clearly communicated his annoyance.

“Grandfather should be up and around in no time. He’s bounced back better than expected.” Toya scowled at her step-grandmother’s back.

“T-thank you, cherie,” Henry said, with a wink at his granddaughter. It took great concentration for him to raise the cup to his lips. He looked tired from the effort.

“Well, for now he’s not on his feet. You’re still paralyzed on the left side; you need speech and physical therapy. And I’ve got to do almost everything for you.” Cecile sat with her hands folded in her lap. She looked pleased at his state. “At your age, you’re not going to do much bouncing. I’ll see to it that things are taken care of.”

Toya sniffed. “I’ll be checking on you every day. I’m so glad you’re finally home. Almost a month in the hospital must have been terrible for you.”

“It’s what he needed. They kept him in the rehab unit, so he could get intensive therapy. The doctors knew right,” Cecile answered, before Henry could stammer out a response.

“Grandfather,” Toya said in a tight voice, “would you like me to take you riding later? I know how you hate being cooped up in the house.”

“I don’t know about tha–”

“Ce-Cecile!” Henry snapped. “I ca-an speak for my-se-self!” He stared at Cecile until she clamped her mouth shut. “I’d love to, darl-lin.”

Once Toya had gone, Cecile turned to Henry. “Make no mistake, you need me, Henry. I’ve done much for you all these years. Suffered for you, too.”

“I kno-ow that, Cecile.” Henry looked straight ahead. “I-I know.”

“I’ve been loving you since I was ten years old, long before you set eyes on her. Wasn’t I good to you?”

“Ye-es.” Henry closed his eyes. “I’m so ti-red, Cecile. Sa fini pas (it never ends).”

Henry looked like a shadow of the proud man in charge that he’d been a few short weeks ago. Now, for the first time in his life, he looked old. He rested his head against the large pillow placed behind him.

Cecile put a hand over his gnarled knuckles. “Non, c’est fini. As I’ve done before, I will take care of you.”

Henry rubbed his eyes. “Maybe it’s for the best.”

“Darcy has gone too far. Marius should take over.” Cecile glanced out of the corner of her eye.

“I need to rest now.” Henry seemed not to have heard her.

“I know you do, dear. But Marius must in control soon, before Darcy does more damage. Look what has happened in the last month.” Cecile spoke in a soft, but insistent voice.

“I’ll think about it later. Help me to my room.” Henry gripped a heavy, wooden walking cane with a carved handle, and struggled to stand.

Cecile did not move to help him. “Henry, sit down.” Her voice was firm.

He looked at her sharply. “Yes, what is it?”

“No matter how you feel about him, Marius must be in charge. This cannot wait. You’ll feel more at ease once it is taken care of, cher.” Cecile succeeded in hiding the calculating purpose behind her smile.

Henry sat very still. “Is that a fact?”

“Yes, as always, we will be the ones you can count on.” Cecile lifted her chin. “He is the best of what comes from the union of the Jove and Thierry families.”

“So, I should listen only to you and Marius now?” Henry stared at her. There was a gradual hardening of his expression that Cecile, intent on gaining ground at last, failed to notice.

She nodded. “Marius has done much for you, with little thanks, as have I. It’s time we got more consideration.” She softened her tone. “You are generous with our children to an extent.”

“I see.”

“But Darcy has to be put in his place.”

“And yo-u will tell me wha-at that place is, I suppose?” Henry’s eyes were slits.

“He can still be active in the business in some capacity.” Cecile nodded to herself, as though deciding the matter.

“How kind of you and Marius to let him continue in the company at all.” Henry wore a fierce smile.

“He has some skills, I think,” Cecile said.

“What if I don’t aa-gree?” Henry kept his tone mild.

Cecile gazed at him intently. “He chose the spot for the road without consulting you. It’s going through the old Auguste’s field; the one your grandfather planted years ago. Remember it was a favorite meeting place for young lovers, back–”

“I know my own pro-perty. I-I won’t discuss it.”

“Marius should be made the boss.” Cecile spoke in a low voice.

“You think I am now so feeble that you ca-an hold some power over m-ee?” Henry glowered at her with all the old power. “Think again, woman.”

“This is the least you can do for me, Henry. I’ve sacrificed for you as no other woman would have.”

“For your own selfish ends,” Henry shot back.

“Selfish? If it’s selfish to love with all my heart, to want to be with you, then I am selfish.” Cecile grabbed his left wrist.

“Al-w-ways some payment is due for your d-devotion.” Henry plucked her fingers from his skin, as though repelled by her touch.

“Don’t say it like that,” Cecile whined. “I only want you to care for me the way...” She took a deep breath.

“You are still jus-st as foolish,” Henry said. He studied her for several minutes. “Well, I’d planned to speak to-o Darcy about his actions. We’ll see wha-at he ha-as to say for himself.”

“And Marius?” Cecile’s eyes gleamed.

“I haven’t decided.” Henry tried to flex his left hand. “Both of the-m are probably making pla-ns to take my place. Bu-t I’m not go-ne yet.”

Cecile watched him. “What of the... delay on the road?”

Henry sagged again; the strength seemed to seep from him bit by bit. “So many years have passed.”

Cecile looked grim. “Nothing will happen. Don’t worry.” She stared out the window, as though she could see across the miles to the field. “J’ai pas apris grand chose (I did all I could do).”

Henry let out a long breath. “Merci beaucoup, Cecile. You never wavered when I needed you most. When Estelle...” He grimaced, still feeling the pain of the woman’s betrayal.

“My love for you made everything simple. I wanted you more than anything in the world.” Cecile spoke with a dark fervor. “Anything…”

“I’ll go si-t on the porch for whi-ile.” Henry moved away from her. “Alone,” he added when she started to follow him. “I can ma-make it o-on my own.” He seemed eager to leave her.

“That’s good. The therapist said you should try to do more.” Cecile watched his shuffling progress. “But go slowly. I’ll check on you in a minute.”

“No-o need.” Henry kept going, without looking back.

“Oh yes, I’ll be right here, cher,” Cecile called after him. “I’ll be here until the end,” she murmured.