Devil's Swamp: LaShaun Rousselle Mystery, #6

Chapter 1

LaShaun savored the taste of her last homemade boudin ball dipped in Creole mustard sauce. Both based on Monmon Odette’s recipe. She’d gotten a warm feeling of nostalgia reading her grandmother’s flowing handwriting. Suddenly, she opened her eyes. Chase, Ellie, and even their dog Beau sat staring at her.

Um, babe, you really hungry, huh? Chase’s dark eyes twinkled. He reached beneath the table to squeeze one of her thighs.

Yeah, Mama. Hungry. Ellie blinked at LaShaun, then glanced down at her mother’s empty plate.

I wouldn’t mind another girl, Chase murmured and ate another forkful of jambalaya.

I want a little brother! Ellie chirped. She clapped her hands and started to sing. Baby brother, baby brother.

Beau woofed his two cents happily, though his vote was unintelligible.

Ellie leaned toward him and nodded eagerly. Maybe both. Twins. Jared and Janeen are twins in my class. They’re a lot of fun! Baby sister and baby bro—

Stop! LaShaun wiped her mouth and tried to get over the shock. You two have jumped way too high into those assumptions. I had a real busy day is all, and... and I missed lunch. Oh, and I had hardly any breakfast since someone was almost late for school after staying up way past her bedtime. Reading when she was supposed to be sleeping.

Miss Valerie told us to read about the history of Mardi Gras. I wanted ideas on a costume for the school parade, Ellie piped up, throwing in her teacher’s name for added credibility.

So you were doing homework. Chase winked at Ellie, who nodded with vigor and grinned back.

LaShaun heaved a sigh at the conspirators. Classic. You were reading one of Daddy’s old comic books.

Um, there was a Mardi Gras parade in it, Ellie mumbled. She tucked her head down when LaShaun cocked an eyebrow at her.

Speaking of bedtime, Chase broke in before LaShaun could speak. You’ve got thirty minutes before you take a bath and get ready to turn in. I put your notebook out so you can do your math assignment.

Thank you. Ellie stuffed the last piece of a hush puppy into her mouth. Still chewing with gusto, she hopped from her chair. I bet Taylor I’d get a better score on the pop quiz Thursday.

Be sure to wash your hands, LaShaun called out as Ellie sprinted down the hallway. We don’t want you handing in greasy paper.

Ellie stuck her head around the corner. Mama, we don’t hand in homework like you did in the old days. I scan it in and email it to Miss Valerie. Then she vanished.

Excuse me for living in the olden days, LaShaun retorted. I’m checking your work in another twenty minutes, so don’t get distracted with more comic books.

She’s gone, hon. Hey, you were the one who insisted she attend that fancy school. And I don’t want her having an email account, Chase added with a frown.

LaShaun didn’t have to ask. She knew he was thinking of child predators online. Relax. Red Oaks Academy has its own server. She only uses her student email in class. I think it’s great they’re learning to use technology.

Yeah, well. I’m on a wait-and-see basis with that place. Don’t know how the Louisiana version of a wizardry school got approved. She better not come home with a flying broomstick is all I know. Or start practicing spells to change Beau into a rabbit or something.

Beau’s large head lifted at the mention of his name. He let out a sharp bark before trotting off. LaShaun knew he was going to Ellie’s bedroom. Maybe to check his human sister wasn’t up to magic that involved him.

Now you’ve got our poor dog worried. He’ll be watching Ellie out of the corner of his eye for days now, LaShaun said with a giggle.

Seriously, though. Are you sure it’s legal for a shadowy outfit like the Third Eye Association to fund a magnet school?

They’re not a ‘shadowy outfit.’ I’m beyond happy TEA helped build a charter school nearby. Kids with special needs like Ellie can learn without feeling like they’re freaks.

LaShaun knew she’d have to keep selling Chase on the idea of Ellie’s special schooling. The Third Eye Association, an organization founded over one-hundred-fifty years ago, conducted research on paranormal phenomena. TEA also gave people with psychic ability a safe haven to be with those who were like them. The supportive environment meant a lot to its members.

Regular children attend as well, and most of the teachers are regular too, LaShaun continued in a patient tone as she cleared the table.

Yeah, yeah. Next you’ll pat me on the head and say, ‘Bless your regular-guy heart,’ Chase said.

He packed a helping of leftover jambalaya in a container for his work lunch. Then he filled the farmhouse sink with hot, soapy water. He washed and rinsed while LaShaun dried. Their dishwasher only got a workout when they had company over. They preferred spending time chatting over kitchen cleanup each day. They took every opportunity to have alone time as a couple. Chase frequently worked long hours heading up the Vermilion Parish sheriff’s criminal investigation section. LaShaun split her hours each day between mommy duty and her own business. Between select paranormal investigations and managing assets left to her by her grandmother, LaShaun kept just as busy. But being a mother and wife always came before ghostbusting, as Chase insisted on calling it. 

LaShaun put away her grandmother’s cast iron skillet with care. Then she turned to him and took the wet dishcloth from his hand. She pulled his tall frame against her body and kissed him. There is nothing regular about you, Chase Broussard.

Your sweet talk always wears me down, Chase said, putting his arms around her.

Still can’t resist me, huh? LaShaun grinned up at him.

Chase gave her butt a playful squeeze before he pulled away, his work cell phone buzzing in a demand for attention. Duty calls.

Way to spoil the mood, officer. LaShaun pouted at him.

Being so sexy is what got you knocked up with another little Broussard, Chase joked. He laughed while dodging the wet kitchen towels she lobbed at his head.

I’m not— LaShaun felt a twinge of nausea. She placed a hand on her stomach. I just ate too much, that’s all, she muttered to herself.

Chase’s full attention was already on his phone call. LaShaun shook her head as she wiped the kitchen table and counter tops. The Broussard clan would just have to be content with their only-child status. That included their dog, Beau. LaShaun’s OB-GYN doc had assured her that a second pregnancy was unlikely. The unusual shape of her uterus affected fertility. Still, she didn’t remind Chase of the long shot. He got such a happy twinkle in his dark Cajun eyes when he dropped a baby hint. 

Gotta go in, Chase announced. He started to say more but glanced over his shoulder first.

LaShaun knew he was checking to make sure Ellie hadn’t returned. He wanted to protect her from the grim facts of his job. Bad?

Body found near the docks, Chase said low even though they were alone. So make sure you—

Double-check the locks and set the alarm. Yes, sir. LaShaun gave him an affectionate peck on the cheek. We’ll be fine.

Good. I guess I’ll keep you and the kid, Chase replied with a smile. A distant bark sounded. I mean you three. Is that dog really psychic, too? Never mind, don’t remind me.

LaShaun laughed but then grew serious as she watched him prepare to leave. You be careful.

My middle name.

Chase marched to their mudroom off the kitchen to put on his work boots. Moments later, the door bumped shut as he left. Locks clicked. Then the rumble of his truck engine signaled he was on his way. LaShaun was about to put the plates in the cabinet when their landline phone rang. The caller ID told her it was Cee-Cee.

Hey girl, LaShaun said in her cheerful tone. Her friend’s somber greeting killed her hope that this was a social call.

Chase came home around two o’clock the next morning. The distant pinging from their alarm system signaled the back door had opened. LaShaun’s eyes fluttered open at the quiet sounds of him trying not to make too much noise.

Sorry to wake you, Chase said, his voice muffled because he stood in the walk-in closet of their master suite.

It’s okay. I was half awake anyway. LaShaun pushed back the comforter and sat up. She fluffed the pillows for back support.

Still sick? Chase stepped from the closet; his handsome brow creased with a concerned frown.

No, that’s not it. Cee-Cee called. There’s a problem at TEA. Two top officials have died in the past three months. One of a massive heart attack. The other had a stroke.

Humph, natural causes. Why’s that a problem? Chase padded into their bathroom.

LaShaun flipped back the covers and followed him. Leadership vacuum. These two, one man and woman, were in charge of the two largest divisions at TEA. Plus, they were on opposite sides of political infighting over the direction of TEA as a whole.

Cee-Cee Cuevas had risen to the rank of Regional Operations Manager. She relished the increase in pay and perks. Still, she’d often complained to LaShaun about the administrative side of her job. Cee-Cee missed the action of fieldwork.

Don’t get involved, Chase said around a mouthful of toothpaste. He rinsed, then turned from the vanity mirror to point his toothbrush at her. "Not your fight."

"Cee-Cee didn’t call me about the politics, but about the deaths. I mean, isn’t it strange that two top leaders die within weeks of each other? Their aides say they’d begun peace efforts between the sides, tamping down the rhetoric." LaShaun leaned against the counter. She admired her husband’s taut muscles as he stripped.

Chase stepped into the spacious walk-in shower. As was his habit, he stood under the initial cold blast of water from the jet when he turned the handle. The glass enclosure slowly fogged up. Babe, people die every day because of health reasons. People in top jobs have even more stress. Don’t I know it. How old were those folks?

Late fifties, early sixties. LaShaun started to say more, but decided to let him lather and rinse in peace. His way of winding down was even more important after a homicide.

There you go. Probably had pre-existing conditions, Chase said.

I’ll tell you the rest later. LaShaun left and climbed back into bed. She thought over Cee-Cee’s facts, laid out in a compelling step-by-step, logical way.

Chase appeared ten minutes later. He wore some of his comfy pajama pants. Water droplets beaded on the dark waves of his hair. He sat down on the floor, then handed LaShaun the cordless hair dryer and a brush. She continued to mull over the TEA drama as she worked. Five minutes later, his thick hair was almost dry. LaShaun turned the dryer off, took the tools back to their bathroom, then returned to join him in bed.

So, what else did Cee-Cee have to say? Chase pulled her close.

You go to sleep. We’ll talk about it in the morning, LaShaun said, and snuggled against his chest. She wanted to help banish the grimness of what he’d dealt with at the crime scene.

It is morning, darlin’. C’mon, Chase replied and then yawned. We both know you want to tell me now.

You’re right. Could just be natural causes, but... LaShaun let her voice trail away. Cee-Cee has probably just gotten overly cautious in her old age, she joked.

She’s what, twenty-six, twenty-seven? If she’s old, then we’re ancient.

Responsibility can age you, not to mention long hours. And like you said, stress. Gone is the carefree Gen Y-er we knew, LaShaun said with a chuckle.

Yeah, well, if she’s got to deal with a crew like Jonah, I totally get it. Chase gave a grunt.

Jonah Parker had been with Ellie through a trying time. They’d connected since both were kids with paranormal abilities. He’d become her self-appointed big brother. He’d also been hired as a field operator for TEA. His ability to amplify the psionic skills of others had made him a valued addition.

Jonah isn’t that bad. Remember, he’s your adopted son. LaShaun laughed again at the moan her comment brought. Ellie adores him. You have to admit, he’s had a positive effect on her.

Yeah, well. Whatever. Postmortems done?

Confirmed heart attack and stroke as the causes, LaShaun replied.

There you go. I don’t see why Cee-Cee is worked up about it. Chase yawned again as he shifted to his side. He patted LaShaun on the butt until she moved to spoon against him.

She suspects foul play, as they say in your profession.

Tox screens results? Chase swung into lawman mode.

Initial tests came back with no drugs that would cause death, LaShaun said.

There you go. I admire her caution, but I’d say in my professional opinion that Cee-Cee should move on. I would close that kind of case based on those facts. Chase kissed the back of LaShaun’s neck. Night.

LaShaun frowned at the memory of how tense Cee-Cee sounded. Her friend might have been more carefree in the past, but she’d also always had a laser-like focus when it came to her work. If Cee-Cee smelled a rat, it was time to set out traps.

You’d also trust your instincts if something didn’t sit right with you. TEA is full of people with extraordinary abilities. LaShaun was thinking out loud rather than making a point to him.

You mean they can kill people with their minds? Please tell me you’re kidding. I have enough on my hands with normal killers running loose, Chase retorted.

You won’t have to worry about getting a call. TEA has a criminal investigation section. LaShaun patted his thigh with one hand.

Great. Just what we need. A secret wizard police force, Chase muttered, his voice muted by the pillow.

I have more good news. Jonah is a CI cop.

Lord help us all. Ellie’s big bro better not be talking to her about that stuff. If he is, I’ll have a heart-to-heart with him.

LaShaun tucked closer against his firm torso. Of course he doesn’t. They have normal discussions about school and the latest toys.

Good. By the way, don’t think you’re off the hook.

What are you talking about?

Chase cupped a hand over LaShaun’s belly. Go see Dr. Hollensworth. Let her tell you what me and Ellie already know.

"Tell you what, Papa Broussard. You carry a kicking, squirming little human inside you for nine months," LaShaun wisecracked.

I’d do it for you, sweetness, Chase mumbled. His words trailed off into a soft snore.

Yeah, I just bet you... LaShaun didn’t bother to finish. His regular breathing and slack body told her the discussion was over. She’d already scheduled her appointment anyway.

Three days later LaShaun sat on the examining table in her OB-GYN doctor’s office. A nurse’s aide had instructed her to get undressed to wait for the doctor. Minutes later the door opened again. A young woman with caramel skin and dyed red hair came in.

Good morning. I’m N’Keisha. She tapped the plastic name tab on her chest. I’m your nurse today. How are we doing?"

N’Keisha cheerily bustled around, taking LaShaun’s blood pressure first, then her temperature. The routine list of questions followed. When LaShaun answered why she’d come in, the nurse congratulated her with a wide grin. Dr. Hollensworth, tall with blond hair mixed with gray, came in wearing a smile. After washing her hands, she got right to work. She kept up a steady stream of chitchat, asking about her family and commenting on news accounts about LaShaun’s last investigation.

That was wild about that guy searching for buried treasure. Ghosts and all, Dr. Hollensworth said. The nurse nodded agreement. The doctor finished up her examination. You can sit up now.

LaShaun took the nurse’s hand as she helped her. Yeah, crazy. So, I’ve got a stomach virus or something?

Did you do a home pregnancy test? N’Keisha replied with a grin.

Um, no. I was pretty sure I wasn’t, so.... I came to satisfy my husband. LaShaun shrugged. I’ve had the flu before. This felt just like it. I usually feel fine after a few days.

You’ll get over this in about eight months. Dr. Hollensworth beamed at her like a proud aunt.

I’ll get samples of prenatal vitamins to get you started, N’Keisha announced and left.

LaShaun blinked hard at the news. She’d thought more about Ellie’s after-school gym and dance classes, Chase’s new murder case, and Cee-Cee’s call than a baby. But I thought...

I said getting pregnant again would be difficult. I never said it was impossible. Dr. Hollensworth gave her right knee an encouraging pat. The shape and tilt of your uterus does make it harder. But don’t you worry. Last time you had few issues, as I recall. You’re still young and healthy. These few months will fly by. We’re going to take good care of you, Mama.

LaShaun shook her head to clear out the haze her diagnosis had brought on. The nurse joked about a psychic not knowing she was pregnant. LaShaun tried to explain that psychics didn’t see their own future. N’Keisha, a woman of hard science, it seemed, gave her an indulgent smile.

Here are your supplements. I’ve printed out how often you take them. N’Keisha went on to give LaShaun more medical instructions.

Fifteen minutes later LaShaun sat in her Subaru Forrester in the clinic parking lot. A pink and blue bag the nurse had given her to carry everything home lay in her lap. Bright February sunshine warmed the interior of the SUV while people wore coats against the chilly temperature outside.

You will have children. Monmon Odette’s voice floated around LaShaun, her soft Creole accent so clear.

Well, Monmon, you were right. I wish you were here to babysit, LaShaun sad. She teared up at the image of Monmon Odette playing with her great-grandchildren. She still missed her. The passage of time dulled the pain, but hadn’t filled the void left by her transition to the next life. Then, as if a recording button had been pressed, she heard Monmon Odette’s other words.

They will need protection.

LaShaun made the sign of the cross and whispered one of the prayers her grandmother had taught her. She started the SUV to head for home. Sunshine, a blue sky, and the lovely landscape helped push aside gloomy thoughts of unseen danger. The stretch of Highway 82 curved gently with prairies on one side and sugar cane fields on the other. A mix of ’90s R&B and zydeco on her radio finished the job of lightening LaShaun’s mood. Chase and Ellie would be over the moon. Then something caught her eye when she turned on Highway 693 going west. A figure stood next to a small, red truck at the intersection of the highway and Trahan Road. He waved her over. LaShaun reached for her cell phone, ready to call road assistance for a stranded driver. As she slowed the SUV, a sharp tingle spread down her arms and up her spine. The man, handsome in his own unique way, strode forward. His brown hair curled to the edge of his checked shirt collar. Faded blue jeans hugged his slim hips. He took off his sunglasses. Emanuel Manny Young grinned at her.

As I live and breathe. Ain’t this a lucky break for me. LaShaun Rousselle Broussard, of all people, coming to my rescue.

What in hell are you doing here? LaShaun blurted. You’re supposed to be in Lafayette at your job or the halfway house.

Oh, right. We haven’t kept in touch, Manny replied, his smile fading. He sighed. And after all we’ve been through together.

We’re not friends, Manny. Not even close. LaShaun glanced around and looked back at him.

I’m sure not your enemy, Manny said with a hint of melancholy in his tone. He expression brightened again. Anyway, I’ve been doin’ so well, got me a one-bedroom apartment. My social worker says I’m one of his star clients.

Almost two years before, Manny had been paroled from prison despite being an alleged serial killer. She’d uncovered evidence that threw doubt on his guilt. Many in Beau Chene blamed LaShaun for his release. Her investigation pointed to other possible suspects, including Manny’s father.

I thought you weren’t supposed to go more than fifty miles outside of Lafayette, LaShaun said.

Nah. Now I can’t leave the state. My lawyer is working on a request for clemency. That would shorten my parole time by ten years. Ain’t that grand?  Manny rested both hands on his narrow waist.

For who, I wonder, LaShaun muttered with a frown at him. She gritted her teeth when Manny chuckled in response. Well? I assume you arranged this little meet-up for a reason.

You don’t believe in coincidences? Maybe I was out for a pleasant ride to enjoy this pretty weather. Then my little truck, Susie-Q, let me down.

Bullshit. LaShaun muttered more profanity when he laughed.

Straight up, no chaser—like always. I can’t help but like you, even though you try hard not to like me back.

It’s not hard. At all, LaShaun replied. Let’s review. A serial killer connected to a string of bloody crimes with psychic powers. Nope. Not on my friends list.

"Alleged serial killer."

Which doesn’t make anyone feel safer, she shot back.

LaShaun looked around once more. No one was nearby. Not a car or truck was in sight. She wondered if Manny had somehow managed to keep people away. Then dismissed her own thought as irrational.

Manny pointed to an almost flat tire and small car jack on the ground next to it. There you go.

Looks like you got it under control then. Bye. LaShaun revved the engine.

Okay, okay. I’ll tell you the truth, Manny said, a palm up as a request that she not pull off.

I don’t think that’s a skill set you ever developed, Manny, LaShaun shot back. Still, she could not resist the tingle of curiosity he stirred. But give it a try.

I didn’t want to get you in trouble by asking you to be seen with me in Lafayette. So I was gonna drive to Alcide and ask you to meet me there. Little chance of some nosy reporter spotting us there, Manny said, referring to a small, unincorporated community between Abbeville and Beau Chene.

I’ll bet at least one reporter has an informant to snitch about where you are all the time. LaShaun looked around yet again at the mention of news media.

Had, past-tense. Sadly, Nola, the halfway house employee in question, is no longer with us. I mean she got fired is all, Manny added when LaShaun gasped.

Meeting over. Not interested. She tapped the accelerator.

I need to you to help solve my murder, Manny yelled.

Her tires squealed when she jammed the brakes.

Chapter 2

Fifteen minutes later LaShaun sat on a wood picnic bench in the village of Maurice just outside of Abbeville.  She’d followed Manny to a tiny country store. Two gasoline pumps and a garage were the other half of the business. An attendant had set about repairing the small hole that caused a slow leak in Manny’s truck tire.

LaShaun accepted the paper cup of coffee Manny handed her before he sat down. My husband knows where I am.

And who you’re with? Manny grunted. I’ll bet he not too happy with you right about now. You shouldn’t have told. Woulda been less trouble.

We don’t keep secrets.

Everybody has secrets, Manny said with a brooding expression.

We don’t share every minute detail of our pasts or even everyday life. But there are certain things, important facts, you don’t keep hidden, LaShaun replied.

Well, I can’t talk about what makes a marriage work since I ain’t been in one. Not likely to at this rate, Manny added with a laugh tinged with bitterness. Don’t even know if I can ever have a normal relationship. Ain’t never been close to one.

LaShaun’s prescient tingle shot through her body, a sort of electric itch. Images of Manny walking into a rundown motel with a prostitute flashed in her head. Then scenes of his abusive and dysfunctional early family life. The story of twelve-year-old Manny watching Orin beat his older brother to a pulp played like a scratching recording. Manny never saw Ethan again after that brutal clash. He assumed his brother had ended up buried in the woods or had been thrown in a swamp to be eaten by gators. She even saw the malevolent face of his dead father,