Bayou Justice Page 10

  “But if only four were made…”

  “Let me continue. In 1879, a man named Scott came into possession of the original reverse die. He obtained several 1861 USA half dollars and removed the reverses, then stamped them with the Confederate die. These are known as restrikes or Scott restrikes, and while not as valuable as the originals, they’re still worth a considerable amount of money.”

  “O-kay.” Bless his heart, he was trying to break it to her gently that hers was nothing more than a dollar-store replica.

  “I’m talking quite a bit of money, even for one coin.” He peered at her and perched his glasses back on his hawk nose.

  “How much?” It couldn’t hurt to know, at least.

  Billy hedged a moment, flipping through pages in a magazine. “According to the listings in my catalog, and the sources are based on supply and demand and what current offers have been, these restrikes are valued at $5,000 in uncirculated condition.”

  Wow, she’d no idea. No wonder Billy ran all those tests. He had to tell her he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it wasn’t real. She felt sorry for him—he said he’d had to do it recently for someone else, too.

  “And all metal currency made from dies 1861 and later are genuine Confederate coins.”

  She glanced down at her coin—1862. Her heartbeat kicked up a notch as she glanced back at Billy. It couldn’t be.

  “The restrike coin can be identified by an imperfection in America between the letters E and R.”

  Once more her eyes dropped to the velvet pad. She squinted, but couldn’t see any irregularities. Billy pushed the velvet pad to an angle where the light hit it just right.

  Just enough to see the imperfection.

  Her heart pounded as she lifted her stare, not trusting herself to speak.

  Billy laughed. “That’s right, Ms. LeBlanc. You own a genuine restrike coin of the Confederacy.”

  Words trapped in her throat.

  “As I told the other client, I would highly recommend you put this in a safety deposit box or in another very safe and secure place.”

  She nodded and chewed her bottom lip. Finally, her vocal chords unwound themselves from around the lump. “How much do you think this particular one’s worth?”

  He studied the coin again. “It appears to be uncirculated.” He paused for a moment. “I’d say you’d get about five grand, give or take a hundred or so.”

  “Oh, my.”

  “Let me get you something to put it in.” Billy reached under the counter. “You say you found this in your yard?” He passed her a small acrylic case.

  “Yeah, under a rosebush.”

  He nestled the coin in the plush velvet. “Is your house old?”

  She nodded. “I really couldn’t say how old it is.”

  “The reason I ask is that lots of people during the Civil War buried their money and silver, or hid it within their houses to keep the invading Yankees from getting their hands on it.” He closed the lid to the case. “And that gentleman I told you about said he found his around a pre-Civil War home as well.”

  She took the case, holding it tight. “So, you think there could be more?”

  “If your house dates back to pre-Civil War and you uncovered this coin due to erosion and such, I’d say start combing your property.”

  “Wow.”

  “Now, would you like to hear a local legend?”

  “Sure.”

  “We know the Klan was created after the end of the Civil war, originally to protect women from carpetbaggers, yes?”

  CoCo nodded.

  “Well, local legend says that when the Klan formed in the bayou area, they stockpiled these particular restrike coins.”

  “Whatever for?”

  “Rumor has it that they believed the South would rise again and these coins would become quite valuable when that happened.”

  “Very interesting.”

  “Just think, you could have found part of a stockpile of the Klan’s coins.”

  She didn’t believe that possible.

  Billy laughed and took off his glasses again. He nodded toward the door. “Too bad it’s coming down like cats and dogs. I imagine you’ll want to have a treasure hunt in your yard.”

  “Merci.” She laughed. “What do I owe you for the appraisal?”

  “Twenty-five.”

  After paying Billy and offering her sincere thanks, CoCo rushed to the Jeep. She felt like a drowned river rat. A quick glance in her rearview mirror confirmed she looked as bad as imagined. She cranked the engine and let it idle. The news hadn’t sunk in yet. A real Confederate coin. But linked to the Klan? Not in her yard.

  She tapped her front tooth with her nail. What to do now? Reaching into her pocket, she grabbed the case and pulled it out to sit in her lap. Such a little thing, but worth so much money. Worth so much, and she needed any money she could get until she knew whether or not she’d get her grant. Billy was right—she must get it to a safe place.

  CoCo steered toward the closest bank. She’d get a safety deposit box as Billy had suggested. As she dodged fat raindrops on her trek into the bank, she nearly slipped on the muddy concrete. She’d conclude her business as soon as possible, then go meet Luc. Her pulse hiccupped. She couldn’t trust Luc with this information. Besides, they’d only agreed to work together to find his grandfather’s murderer. She didn’t owe him anything more. This coin had nothing to do with Beau Trahan being shot.

  If anything, the past few years had enhanced CoCo’s natural beauty. There was something different, something almost pure about her. Luc couldn’t help but stare as she waltzed into the diner. He shoved to his feet as she approached the table.

  “Sorry I’m a little late,” she gushed as she slid across the table from him, shaking off raindrops.

  She was worth the wait. “That’s okay.” He sat and smiled. “Are you hungry?”

  “No, but I’d kill for a cup of coffee.”

  Bad choice of words. He lifted his cup at the waitress, and shot CoCo a look. “Did you get your errand run?”

  She pressed her lips together. “Um-muh.”

  He waited, but she didn’t elaborate. What errand was so important that she’d gone out in this horrid weather?

  The waitress filled their cups with steaming coffee, asked if they wanted to order, then rushed away.

  “You said you found something new?” she prompted him.

  “This morning, Uncle Justin and I went with Bubba to Grandfather’s penthouse.”

  “And?”

  Luc considered stalling for a few more moments, just so she’d keep staring at him with such intrigue. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew her well, and knew she sorely lacked in the patience department. “We found his checkbook.”

  She cocked her head.

  He took a swig of the hot coffee. “The register reflected a check made out for fifty-thousand dollars to Felicia’s boyfriend.”

  “Oh.” CoCo took a sip of coffee. “What does this mean?”

  “It means that the sheriff is going to question Frank.”

  “What’s your take?”

  He rubbed his thumb over the cup’s handle. “Bubba’s thinking it might be blackmail.”

  “What do you think?”

  “I can’t imagine Felicia being involved with someone who’d dare to try and blackmail Grandfather.”

  “Mmm.”

  “What?”

  Darkness held her eyes as close as the night. “People can surprise you.” The icy look she tossed hit him square in the chest.

  Touché. “Maybe so.” He felt as low as the scum growing on the pond. “CoCo.”

  She took a long pull on her coffee, then stood. “Don’t, Luc. Just don’t.”

  He rose to his feet. “But…”

  “Let it go. It’s over and done with.” She tugged her purse strap over her shoulder. “Maybe joining forces wasn’t the smartest idea.”

  Before he could argue, she was out the door to the diner.

/>   Over and done with? He wished someone would send that memo to his heart.

  Luc hung up his slicker and headed toward the kitchen, following the enticing aroma of crawfish bisque carried on the waves of laughter. He turned into the room and paused, drinking in the sight of his family laughing. His mother— looking sober, thank goodness—ladled bisque into bowls at the table, while Felicia giggled as she passed a glass of iced tea to Frank.

  Home. How long had it been since they’d all joked and ate together? Had Grandfather really kept them so tightly wound that they couldn’t relax, even amongst themselves? He dropped into a chair. “Got some for me, Mom?”

  “Of course, Luc.” She reached to the counter and grabbed another bowl. “It’s nice to have you with us for lunch.”

  Just pack his bags for the guilt trip. Yet, she had a point. He’d deliberately had working lunches to save himself the drive home. Now, seeing his sister’s face lit up like the stars over the bayou, he regretted his decision. Lord, forgive me for being so selfish.

  “Here you go.” His mother handed him a bowl.

  His stomach rumbled. “Smells wonderful, merci.”

  “It tastes perfect, Mom.” Felicia slipped another spoonful into her mouth.

  Frank nodded and swallowed. “It’s wonderful, Mrs. LeBlanc.”

  “How you do go on,” Luc’s mother said.

  An abrupt knock on the door brought up their heads. Luc shoved back his chair and stood. “I’ll get it.”

  He opened the door to stare into the face of Sheriff Bubba Theriot. “Bubba, what brings you by in this nasty weather?”

  “I told Sammy a deputy would help box up Beau’s things and send them here.”

  “That’s fine. Surely you didn’t drive over here in this mess to tell me that?”

  “I went by to talk to Frank Thibodeaux, but his roommate said he was out. Thought he might be here.” Bubba dusted raindrops off his shoulders.

  “Can this wait until later? I’d rather not do this in front of Felicia.”

  “I don’t think there’s much point in drawing this out any longer.” Bubba wiped his boots on the welcome rug. “The sooner I get some answers, the quicker I can solve this case.”

  Luc sighed, but opened the door wide to let the sheriff enter. “Let me go get Frank.” His steps were heavy as he trudged to the kitchen. The laughter continued.

  His mother smiled. “Who is it, Luc?”

  “Frank, can I see you in the living room for a minute, please?” He fought to keep his expression neutral.

  “What?” Felicia pushed her wheelchair from the table. “Luc?” Her eyes repeated the question.

  “Bubba’s here and wants to ask Frank a couple of questions.”

  “What about?” Felicia grabbed her boyfriend’s hand, her gaze never leaving Luc’s face.

  He struggled with how much information to share with his sister. He let out a long sigh. “I think Bubba would be the best person to answer that.”

  “Well, allons then.” She shifted her gaze to Frank’s face. “Frank?”

  “I can’t imagine.”

  “Why don’t we all go into the living room? I’ll make some coffee.” His mother moved to clear the table. “Y’all go on ahead, and I’ll be right along.”

  Luc led the way to where Bubba sat on the couch. The sheriff jumped to his feet as they entered. “Frank Thibodeaux?”

  “Yes, sir?” He didn’t let loose of Felicia’s hand.

  “I have a couple of questions for you.”

  “In regards to what?” A sheen of perspiration glistened on Frank’s forehead.

  Bubba pulled out his notebook and pen. “We found a checkbook register at Beau Trahan’s that reflects a check written to you on this past Tuesday.”

  “A check to me?” Frank’s eyes went wide.

  “A check in the amount of fifty-thousand dollars.”

  Luc couldn’t tell who gasped louder, Frank or Felicia. Then silence fell over the room.

  “Can you explain, Mr. Thibodeaux?” Bubba held the pen over the notebook.

  Frank glanced at Felicia and dropped into the chair. Felicia rolled her wheelchair beside him. “Frank?”

  “Aw, ’Licia, I never wanted you to find out. Especially not like this.”

  Luc sank onto the couch. Was he about to witness a confession? He noticed Bubba stared at the couple. The lawman knew when to keep his mouth shut and merely observe.

  “Frank?” Felicia’s voice cracked.

  He raked a hand over his face. “Remember I told you that your grandfather had come to see me?”

  She nodded, but tears shone in her eyes.

  “The threats came after I tore up the check he offered me. The payoff to break things off with you.”

  Felicia sniffed, pressing a hand to her mouth. Luc’s heart ripped at the pain in her expression. He fought against every fiber in his being screaming at him to go to her. This was one time big brother couldn’t make it all go away. Grandfather’s underhandedness knew no boundaries.

  “You tore it up, right? You didn’t cash it.” Her eyes held such hope.

  “Of course not! I would never take a payoff to leave you.” He took her hand in his. “I love you, ’Licia.”

  “Oh, Frank.” Tears streamed from her eyes.

  Bubba cleared his throat. “Why don’t you walk me through yours and Mr. Trahan’s conversations?”

  Frank turned back to the sheriff. “Felicia’s grandfather came to see me Monday or Tuesday. At work. Said he had a business proposition for me.”

  “And?” Bubba wrote in his notebook.

  Luc sat on the edge of his seat.

  “He said he didn’t want me breaking his granddaughter’s heart. Accused me of pretending to be interested in Felicia only to get some money out of him.” Frank jerked his stare to her. “Which wasn’t ever a factor in my attraction to you. You’re the sweetest, most gentle woman I’ve ever met. From the first moment I laid eyes on you, I—”

  “What did you tell Mr. Trahan?” Bubba interrupted.

  “I told him I loved her.” He cut his eyes to Felicia. “Which I do.” Frank nodded at Bubba. “He offered me that check. Told me to think it over and tucked it in my pocket.”

  “Uh-huh.” Bubba hiked his brows. “Then what?”

  “I tried to give the check back right then and there, but he wouldn’t take it.” Frank turned pleading eyes to Felicia. “He drove off in that Cadillac of his. Just left me standing in the dirt.”

  Felicia’s expression softened.

  “What’d you do?” Bubba brought the conversation back to the subject at hand.

  “The next day, I went to see Mr. Trahan. I told him I wasn’t interested in any of his money.” His voice dropped a decibel. “I was only interested in his granddaughter.” His eyes met Felicia’s. “Still am.”

  “Mr. Thibodeaux, what happened then?”

  “Mr. Trahan’s the hardest-hearted man I’ve ever met. He wouldn’t listen when I told him I wanted to spend my life with her.” He shook his head. “He kept calling me a gold digger.” His hands trembled.

  “What’d you do?” Bubba stopped writing and studied Frank.

  Frank ran a hand over his slicked-back hair. “I got so mad. I yelled and hollered at him. Raised my fist to him. Said things I shouldn’t have.”

  “Such as?” The words slipped out before Luc could swallow them back.

  Bubba tossed him a glare.

  “I told him I didn’t want his money and neither would ’Licia.” He spun to face Felicia. “I’m sorry I put words in your mouth, baby. I just couldn’t take his accusations anymore. It just popped out of my mouth.”

  Luc could relate.

  “What did you do?” Bubba’s expression reflected he was clearly tired of the side trips in the conversation.

  “I ripped the check up and dropped it on the floor at his feet. That’s when he told me he’d ruin me financially.” Anger etched deep into his face. “Told me I wouldn’t be able to fin
d a job to support ’Licia.”

  Luc shifted on the couch. Frank’s story hit a little too close to home.

  “What did you do?” The sheriff spoke between clenched teeth. Clearly, his patience had worn out.

  “I told him that I’d take ’Licia and he’d never see her again.” His voice grew thick and he turned to Felicia. “I’m so sorry, baby. I spoke in anger. Please forgive me.”

  Felicia laid a hand against his cheek. “There’s nothing to forgive. You love me that much?”

  Even Luc’s hardened heart couldn’t deny the love on their faces. He glanced at Bubba. The scrawny redhead pushed his glasses to the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat. “Then what happened?”

  Frank stared at the sheriff, glassy-eyed. “I think I shocked him. I didn’t give him a chance to think about it—I just left. Never heard from him after that.”

  Southerners loved their history.

  CoCo sat in the library, staring at the umpteenth book portraying the Confederate side of the Civil War. While she now had all the historical facts on the war, she had found very little about coins of the Confederacy. Only two books out of the twelve she’d pulled reflected specific information on the mints of the Confederacy. She slammed the last book shut and pushed it to the center of the table.

  This was getting her nowhere. Nothing in any of the books would tell her how those coins wound up in her yard. But she did know someone who might be able to shed some light on the situation.

  CoCo grabbed the printout of her grant proposal, which she’d finished before she’d started her research. She carefully folded it and put it inside a large envelope, whispering up a prayer. She simply had to get the funding. Had to.

  ELEVEN

  When it rained, it poured. And in South Louisiana, all the dirt turned to mud.

  Luc pulled up to the mailbox after seeing Frank safely back to his house. The family had spent the afternoon assuring Frank they held no animosity toward him for his harsh words against Beau. Who could blame him? Dusk had crept up on them, so Luc had followed Frank home to ensure his little car didn’t get stuck on the dirt roads. Good thing he’d bought the four-wheel drive last year.