Bayou Betrayal Read online

  Gary let out a sigh. If fewer people watched crime-type television shows, his job would be so much easier. He glanced around the small-time operation, wondering if Fenton kept up to date with all the OSHA regulations. Time to find out. “I guess I can go get a warrant. I just wanted to avoid bringing legal attention to your business.”

  Terrence’s beady eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, legal attention?”

  “Oh, we have a mountain of paperwork we have to go through to get a warrant. Every time we fill out everything, the system feels like it needs to check up on all aspects of the company we put in the paperwork. OSHA, IRS…you know, all the alphabetsoupers.” He shrugged as if he didn’t care one way or the other. “I thought maybe you’d like to avoid all that hassle, but it doesn’t matter to me.”

  Terrence’s cheeks inflated like a puffer fish. “You know, I don’t see an issue with letting you have a peek at my sales records over the past few weeks.”

  Bingo! Gary smiled. “We’d sure appreciate that.”

  The business owner set a large, blue ledger on the counter and flipped it open. He stopped on a page. “These are my buyers for the past month.” He turned the book toward Gary and Bob.

  Gary took out his notebook and copied down names.

  “Shows eight buyers,” Bob commented.

  “Yep, that sounds about right.”

  “All of these regulars of yours?” Gary asked.

  “Ummm.” Terrence pulled a pair of wire-rimmed glasses from his pocket and perched them on the end of his nose. “That one, and him, oh, and them, too, are.”

  Gary made checks in his notes beside the names Terrence had indicated.

  Bob studied the ledger. “So, only two of these are new customers?” He leaned closer to the paper and read. “Kevin Haynie and Niles Patterson. That right?”

  “Yep, them two I didn’t know.”

  Gary peered at his notes. “Do the buyers have to fill out any paperwork on purchases?”

  “Order forms, yeah.”

  “May we have a copy of the order forms on Haynie and Patterson?”

  Terrence hedged again. “Giving you a copy, with their addresses and all…that’s more than letting you have a peek.”

  “Suit yourself. Warrant or no, it’s your call.” Gary held his breath, hoping the old man bought the bluff. A warrant would take a bit and Gary could feel the adrenaline spurting through his veins—they were on the right track, he felt it.

  Terrence scratched hair that had long since fallen out. “I guess just those two orders won’t be a problem. After all, it’s not like they’re regulars or anything.”

  Gary waited while the man found the invoices, made copies on the battered copier, then handed them over.

  “We certainly appreciate your help.” Gary handed his business card to Terrence. “If you think of anything else, anybody maybe not listed on your ledger who bought some fuel the past month or so, please give me a call.”

  Terrence pocketed the card. Gary could almost envision him ripping it up and throwing it away as soon as they were out the door. He couldn’t do anything about that. Nodding to Bob, he turned and left the musky building.

  Bob wandered toward the tanks instead of the cruiser.

  “What’re you doing?”

  “Checking out the system.” Bob leaned over and inspected the pump on top.

  “And?” Gary shifted his weight and glanced toward the building. Was Terrence standing at that single window, staring at them and wondering what they were doing scrutinizing his setup without a warrant?

  “Well, I don’t think someone could just walk up and steal fuel with this system in place.” Bob straightened and continued to study the tank’s discharge structure. “At least not enough to have been used in the fire. There was a lot used as the accelerant.”

  “So the person had to have bought it, yes?”

  Bob narrowed his eyes as he stared at the warehouse. “Or had available access to the tanks.”

  The implication came across loud and clear. Either the arsonist had to buy the fuel, or got it free from Terrence.

  Like his son could.

  Talk about tangled nerves. Monique’s were in macramé-sized knots.

  Her morning had been rushed with arranging to have her new house cleaned. She’d had to pay double to ensure the job was completed by noon, but it was worth it to her. From there, she checked on the furniture she’d ordered originally for the old Pittman place. Thankfully, the warehouses hadn’t had a chance to deliver it all before the fire. Now, it was set to be delivered to her new home before three. She’d also switched her utilities to the new house and was assured everything would be on immediately, and finally had gone shopping with Felicia to buy linens, curtains and dishes. And clothes. All in all, she’d accomplished a lot this morning.

  She should’ve been pleased and excited, and she was, but as she followed Felicia into the diner, nerves got the best of her. Luc and CoCo had returned to Lagniappe, and were meeting them for lunch. Felicia had brought them up to speed on Monique, her relationship to them, the fire and purchasing Justin’s house. Now she would meet them for the first time.

  Would they accept her as openly as Felicia had? Or would they be cautious, suspicious? Would Luc resent her? Hate that she’d bought the house where he’d almost been murdered?

  The door opened and Felicia shrieked and wove quickly around tables.

  Monique’s mouth went dry as north Louisiana in August. She forced her feet to move and follow Felicia, who hugged a tall, handsome man and an exotic beauty of a woman. Monique stood to the side, actually experiencing the love and security wrapping around the small group.

  Never before had she felt like such an outsider, wanting so much to belong.

  Felicia turned, putting her arm around Monique’s waist and drawing her into the group. “Luc, CoCo, this is our cousin, Monique.” She grinned. “This goofy fella is my brother, Luc, and this gorgeous woman is my sister-in-law, CoCo.”

  Monique smiled shyly. “Hi.”

  CoCo peered at her from beneath long, luscious lashes. Her dark hair cascaded in long ringlets down her back. A second passed. Then another. Then another. Finally she spoke. “Welcome to the family, Monique.” She wrapped graceful arms around Monique’s neck and hugged her tight.

  Luc gently nudged his wife back. “Stop hogging her.” He kissed the top of CoCo’s head, grinning at Monique. “Welcome.” He pulled her into his strong arms and gave her a bear hug.

  Such love and acceptance…it’d been a long time since she felt so surrounded by those emotions. Nothing had moved her so strongly since the first church service after Kent had been killed. The sermon had reached in and touched her very soul, despite her grief. But then she’d had to plan and endure his funeral, and her church family had begun to walk on eggshells around her, making her feel uncomfortable.

  And she’d become increasingly angry with God.

  “Come, sit, Boo. I want to get to know you.” CoCo grabbed her hand and tugged her into the chair between her and Luc.

  “Boo?” Monique sat, confusion muddling her mind.

  Felicia laughed. “It’s a Cajun term of endearment. Like cher.”

  “Oh. Hadn’t heard that one before.”

  Luc chuckled as he and Felicia took their seats. “You’ll have to forgive us. The eldest of our siblings, we tend to call them all ‘Boo.’”

  Tears threatened to shimmer in her eyes. She swallowed hard.

  “What does Deputy Anderson have to say about finding the arsonist?” Luc’s eyes grew darker, if that was possible.

  She told them about Bob Costigan and his questions. “I don’t know more than that, I’m afraid.” The wheels of justice always moved in the slowest gear possible.

  “I wish Bubba was here. He’d take care of this and keep you informed.” Luc’s jaw set strongly.

  “Bubba?”

  CoCo laughed. “That’s the sheriff, my brother-in-law. He’s married to my youngest sister.”
>
  “His name is Bubba? Really?” Monique couldn’t get over that.

  “His real name is René, but only Tara is brave enough to call him that to his face.” CoCo chuckled.

  “Yeah, if he were here, we’d know exactly what was happening in the investigation,” Luc said.

  “He and Bubba are friends,” CoCo whispered.

  “Oh, Gary’s been wonderful. I don’t think anyone could be handling this any better.” Why Monique felt as if she had to defend him, she couldn’t figure. The words snuck out before she could stop them.

  “Gary?” CoCo raised her eyebrows.

  Felicia nudged her sister-in-law. “He’s been very, uh, attentive to this case. Even insisted Monique stay with his mother after the threat at Mom’s.”

  “Really?” CoCo faced Monique again. “Do tell.”

  Heat fanned her face. “There’s nothing to tell. He’s just doing his job and being nice. That’s all.”

  “Hmm.” CoCo winked at her husband. “Gary’s being nice and doing his job. Isn’t that swell?”

  Felicia stared at Monique. “Stop. Y’all are embarrassing Monique.”

  “I’m sorry, Boo. I’m only teasing.”

  “Nothing to apologize for. There’s nothing going on.” But her heart started an argument with her head on that point. She ignored it.

  The waitress appeared, took their orders and withdrew, after paying extra-special attention to Luc. CoCo rolled her eyes. Monique refrained from chuckling, but caught Felicia’s under-her-breath giggle.

  He turned to her, seriousness covering his handsome features. “I’m very concerned about these threats against you. After the fire…well, it’s obvious someone’s serious about harming you.”

  “Do you have any idea who could do such a thing?” CoCo asked.

  Monique explained to them about Kent’s murder, and Investigator Walkin’s reaction to Gary’s questions.

  Luc nodded. “Good, he’s following through on every angle.” He paused as the waitress delivered their drinks, then went on as soon as she left. “Of course, someone local has to be involved, to have set the fire.”

  She’d already considered that. It should have frightened her more, but it didn’t. She would stand firm. Especially now, when she had a family to accept her. “I’m ready to put it behind me and get on with my life.”

  Felicia launched into details of their productive morning. CoCo oohed and aahed over the description of furniture and things purchased. At the end of the conversation, Felicia directed her comments to her brother. “And we need to meet with the Trahan lawyer. Monique is a legal heir of Uncle Justin’s, and we need to make sure she gets what she’s entitled to from the estate.”

  “I don’t want anything. Really.” She let her gaze rest on each person at the table. “I didn’t come here for anything but to meet each of you and get to know you. That’s it.” She didn’t want anything of Justin’s, not after his rude rejection of her. Besides, having a family was more than enough for her.

  “Oh, we know you don’t expect or want anything, but it’s rightfully yours,” Felicia said. “If Uncle Justin had been the man he should’ve been, you would’ve had it to begin with.”

  “I just wanted to know my family.” Sobs caught in her chest. “And you’ve all been so accepting and wonderful…that’s all I could ever want.” Or need. How long had she envied friends back in Monroe with big families? Now, she had one of her own, and she wouldn’t allow anything or anyone to intrude.

  “But don’t you see, it’s not enough for us.” Luc took her hand. “We have plenty of money—giving you a share of the estate is the right thing to do. We can’t not do it. That’d be wrong of us.”

  Tears pushed into her eyes. “I don’t need money, either. I got a large life insurance policy payout after Kent’s death.” It seemed so wrong to profit off the loss of her husband, but she’d known he’d wanted to make sure she was provided for.

  “If you don’t let us do this, it hurts us.” Felicia waited until the waitress delivered their food and scurried off again before finishing. “It’s not about the money. It’s about doing what’s right. God tells us to do what’s right, regardless.”

  “But that’s not why I came here.”

  “No one said it was.” Luc squeezed her hand. “Let me put this another way…if the tables were turned, and you found out your mother had another child and you met her, wouldn’t you feel it was the right thing to do to ensure that a sibling of yours got part of your mother’s estate?”

  She’d never thought about it like that before. But still…

  “We have to do this, Monique. If you decide you want to give your part of the estate away to charity, that’s your decision, but you can’t expect us not to do what we know is right.” Felicia smiled, love pouring from her eyes.

  “What do you do with your parts of the estate? I mean, you said it’s in a trust or something, right?”

  “We use Grandfather’s lawyer, who keeps the entire estate in a trust of sorts. We make large contributions to specific charities each year. If one of us needs something, we have the trust write us a check.” Felicia shrugged. “Stuff like that.”

  “And we have specific accounts set up for our future children,” Luc added.

  An idea came to her. “Why can’t I just be added to the estate trust? I don’t want to pull anything out, and it sounds like y’all have it set up so well.”

  Felicia smiled brightly. “That’s perfect.” She looked at her brother. “Luc?”

  He nodded. “I’ll call the lawyer tomorrow.”

  CoCo let out a loud sigh. “Good. That’s settled. Can we eat now? I’m starving.”

  Chuckles rose from around the table.

  “Yep. Let me offer grace first, if you can stave off your appetite for a few minutes more,” Luc teased.

  CoCo reached behind Monique to pop him playfully on the arm. “Always jumping up to do the glory.” She addressed Monique. “Forgive my husband for assuming…he takes this head of household thing way too far. Would you like to say grace?”

  “Oh, no. Please, go ahead.”

  She bowed her head and registered Luc speaking, but his words bounced against her hardened heart. She couldn’t get over her anger at God yet. He’d allowed Kent to be taken from her so abruptly, before their lives had really begun. Scripture said the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Well, He’d taken away—both her mother and Kent—but what had He given?

  She lifted her head and experienced the strong sense of belonging.

  Had He given her a replacement family?

  FIFTEEN

  Showtime.

  Gary got out of the cruiser, Bob trailing him. Together, they made their way up the wooden steps to the address listed on the invoice for Niles Patterson, with Gary taking note of everything he saw.

  The house needed a lot of work—paint peeled, porch boards warped, in desperate need of replacement, and windowpanes had spiderweb cracks. The bayou edged along the backyard, pushing its fishy odor around the house to the frontyard. If Niles Patterson had lived here for any length of time, he sure wasn’t into home improvement.

  Pulling out his badge, Gary knocked on the door. “Mr. Patterson? It’s Deputy Anderson with the Vermilion parish sheriff’s office.”

  Shuffling sounds came from the other side of the door. “Just a minute.”

  The door opened with a creak.

  A hulk of a man, approximately forty years old with shaggy hair and thick glasses like Sheriff Theriot used to wear, stared out from the crack. “I’m Niles Patterson. What can I do for you?”

  Gary held his badge up for the man to see. “We’d like to ask you a few questions, if we might.”

  “About what?” Cautious, but not rude.

  “About a purchase you made last month of biodiesel fuel.”

  “What about it?”

  Gary swallowed his sigh. “We’d rather discuss this with you inside.” He’d like to get a glimpse of the interior of the h
ouse. Who knew what clues might lurk inside?

  Niles swung open the door. “Come on in.”

  Not exactly the actions of someone with something to hide. And he didn’t speak with a Cajun accent—more of a Southern twang.

  Gary followed Niles into his living room and sat on the sofa where the man motioned. Springs jabbed Gary in the lower back. He scooted to the edge amid squeaks. No telling what was under the sofa. Gary really didn’t want to think about the possibilities.

  Bob stood in the doorway, leaning against the doorjamb. Niles dropped to a well-worn recliner. It sagged under his weight. “What about my purchase?”

  “We understand you purchased quite a large amount of the fuel.” Gary flipped pages in his little notebook. “Sixty-five gallons, to be exact.”

  “Yep.”

  Great, this would be like pulling wisdom teeth. “May I ask what you need that much fuel for?”

  “Is it against the law to buy it?”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “Then why all the questions?”

  “Why avoid answering?” Bob interjected.

  Niles shoved hair from his forehead and peered into the arson investigator’s face. “I bought the fuel because I’m about to launch a charter fishing service. I can use it in my boat with the adapter kit, and it’s cheaper than regular petro.”

  “Really?” Gary made notes. “How long have you lived here in Lagniappe, Mr. Patterson?”

  “Moved here about a month or so ago.”

  “From where?”

  “Lake Charles.”

  “What brought you to Lagniappe?”

  Niles shifted in the chair. It creaked in protest. “Why don’t you tell me what this is all about?”

  “We’re investigating a fire. Now, why did you move to Lagniappe?”

  The man’s face reddened. “I’m going to get married to a gal who lives here. She refused to move, so I did. We’ll be getting hitched the end of next month. She wants me to get my business up and running before so we’ll have enough money to take a real honeymoon.” Even the tips of his ears turned red.