Dark Paradise (14 page)

“You're kidding, right?” My hands start shaking. I cross my arms and lean against the door to block her exit. “What's going on? Why the sudden trip, Mama? After all that's happened, I need to talk to you.”

Mama fiddles with the strap on her tote bag. “That's why I'm goin', Mala. I don't know nothin' that would help, but my grand-tante does. She's your great-grandmère Dahlia's twin, and she's the only livin' female left in our family who knows how to control our gifts. She may be able to help us.”

“Why haven't I ever heard about this aunt?”

Mama picks up her suitcase in silence.

“Wait, Mama, don't go,” I beg, trying to snatch the bag from her hands. She jerks it free and steps around me. The fire brightening her eyes has me cringing, expecting a slap. When it doesn't come, I straighten in surprise.

“I have to go, Mala.” Mama's breaths come hard. It isn't anger reflected in her dark gaze, but deep, soul-draining fear. And despair. “Lord knows I want nothin' to do with that wicked woman, but I'd eat my own liver if it meant figurin' out a way to keep you safe.”

I shudder. “Wicked?”

Mama picks up her suitcase again and starts for the door. I try to block her, but she shoves past and heads outside. I run after her. My mind whirls. “What aren't you telling me?”

Mama meets my gaze, her own terrified. “Grand-tante Magnolia's a conjure woman. She practices hoodoo—root magic. Great-grandmère Dahlia and her sister had a fallin' out when they were young 'cause Magnolia apprenticed herself to a priestess who taught her how to raise the dead and twist dark curses. They never spoke after that, and your grandmère Cora refused to practice root magic.” She drops the bag and comes over to wrap her arms around me.

I hug her tight. “I'm scared. Please, please don't leave me alone.”

“I'm scared too. The spirits started whisperin' to me when I was about your age, but it wasn't until my mama died that I ever saw one. And I've never felt a spirit as powerful as Lainey. She almost killed you that time in the bathroom, and I think the reason you forgot when she touched you was that your mind ain't strong enough to control her. Magnolia's the only one who can teach you how to use your gifts, and she might turn me away out of pure spite. I have to do somethin'. You need to understand that,
cher
. I can't let you suffer the way I did.”

With a fake smile plastered on my face, I release her. Now that she's made her decision, I just want her to go. I'll deal with this mess on my own. Like always. “Okay, if you think this is the way, I guess I'll be fine until you get back.”

“That's my girl.” She throws her bag into the back of her pickup, then points to Landry's truck. “When that boy comes back, don't go near him, you hear? Don't listen if he tries to talk you into contactin' his sister. Her spirit's too strong. You need the help of a professional.”

I bite my lip.

“Grief's got that boy torn up in the head, baby. Swear you'll be careful. Don't trust him.”

“I swear I'll be careful. You too.” I wave her off, glad she didn't force me to swear to something that I can't keep.

G
eorge doesn't take it easy on the winding road.

Each curve we whip around makes me gag. He'll kill me if I lose it in his car. I press my fist against my stomach, trying to dull the ache from puking up the bowl of beef stew I ate earlier. Food and whisky don't mix.

Okay, it's official. Phase I of my plan to find out if the girl I like, who I finally talked to, the one who made me forget for a little while that I'd never see my sister again, may be the one who murdered her, is a total bust. It's my own fault. If I hadn't gone to her house drunk maybe I would've handled the situation better. Like not bawling like an infant for one.

God, I'm so embarrassed.
I press my forehead against the window pane. My chest feels like I've taken a garden claw to my insides and raked my guts into a lump in my stomach. I never knew I could hurt so much.

It's killing me.

The trees in the distance blur into broccoli-stalk smudges. My stomach churns, and I close my eyes and Lainey's face floats in the darkness. Her sadness haunts me. I see her whenever I close my eyes. I haven't slept more than a couple hours at a stretch in days. When I lie down, Lainey's voice whispers in my ears. It's only one name spoken over and over:
Mala. Mala. Mala.

Lainey drove me crazy.

By the time I confronted Mala at Munchies, I'd convinced myself of her guilt. I obsessed over each word and action she'd taken while at the coroner's, sure she hid something from me. Her glittering eyes and smile concealed the evil inside, but it all changed once I was with her. I fell under her spell.

Tears press against my sealed lids. I squeeze them away. I won't cry again. Bad enough I broke down in front of Mala and her mom when Lainey appeared. I've got to stay strong until I figure out who hurt her. Heaven help the person who killed her.

George parks in front of my parents' house. I bang on the glass partition separating the front of the car. “I'm not going in there. Take me to my apartment.”

My face flushes. I don't want to confess that Mom kicked me out.

George climbs out of the patrol car, and I glare at him while he comes around to open the door. “You're not in any condition to care for yourself.” When I don't move, he grabs my arm and drags me out. A heavy scowl pulls down his eyebrows. He shoves me toward the house, and I stumble. “Don't tell me I have to carry you.”

He tries to take my arm again, but I jerk away. “I don't need your help, Deputy George.”

“You need someone's help. What the hell were you thinking? Accosting Mala, driving drunk…” He shakes his head “That's not like you, Landry.”

“I'm thinking my sister was murdered, and you're not doing shit to find the person who did it. That rather than following the evidence, you're gonna sweep it under the rug because of your personal relationship with the main suspect.”

George stiffens. “Main suspect?”

I laugh. It's so funny it makes me sick. “Go to hell, George. I saw you hug Mala. Don't even try to deny you have feelings for her. If you can't do your job, I'll do it for you.”

I'm shaking so hard I'm about to fly apart. He had his hands all over her. I wanted to rip his arms off and shove them down his throat. The only reason why I didn't…Mala hugged him back. It hurt, watching them. I couldn't move. But I'm not frozen anymore. I'm so hot that if I don't get away from him, I might do something I'd regret later. I turn toward the house.

George grabs my shoulder and spins me around. “If you're implying Mala's a suspect—”

I jerk my arm free. “Did I say her name?”

“You don't have to.” He steps forward until we're almost nose to nose. I straighten up to my full height, ignoring the clench in my strained gut. His emotionless, bottle-glass green eyes send a chill through me. He could hurt me. He'd do it without any remorse. He sees me lower than dirt, and he'd feel nothing but justified because he thinks he's protecting an innocent person.

This basically sums up my whole problem. Mala has him snowed. Uncle Jay warned me. He said she looks innocent on the outside. It's the inside I'm not sure about. When I'm with her, I can't believe she'd be capable of hurting Lainey. Her warmth surrounds me like a warm blanket, and I want to wrap myself in her arms and never let her go. It's when I'm alone that the doubts chew me up. Like right now.

I meet George's eyes. “Someone killed Lainey.”

“It wasn't Mala so back the fuck off and leave her alone. If I even hear about you harassing her again, I'll lock your ass up.” He leans forward, and I take a step back. “Do you understand? This is your only warning.”

“Crystal,” I say, giving a sloppy salute and spinning on my heel. I'm not running from him exactly, more like making a controlled retreat. What he's saying isn't wrong. Confrontation won't help me find the truth. It'll only cause problems with the law, and I'll scare Mala into hiding. I need to gain her trust to dig up her secrets.

The front door slams open when I reach the porch. I back up, but a meaty hand grabs my collar and drags me inside. Dad thrusts me against the wall. His arched nostrils flare. I must be rank from the alcohol and puke. My face flushes hotter than if I sat too long in the hot tub. When I step forward, he shoves me back against the wall.

Rage replaces my earlier embarrassment. I thrust my arms up, breaking his hold on my shirt, popping a button. “Back off!”

Dad doesn't smack me. He's never laid a hand on me in anger in his entire life. He left disciplining his children to his wife. He says because as a man he's stronger than Mom. He didn't believe in sparing the rod, but he didn't want us to come to lasting harm. For him to shove me means I've pushed him past his limit.

He backs away and runs his fingers through salt-and-pepper hair. His thick beard bristles like a porcupine when he juts out his chin. “You've shamed me,” he says softly.

That's it.

He walks toward his study with measured strides. He doesn't look back. Heat rushes through my chest, up to my head. I'll explode if I don't let out the rage eating me up. I've stuffed my feelings inside, but there's no room for a slice more. Shame…he dares to talk of shame. I'm full up with it. Time to share the blame with the one who deserves it the most.

“Damn right you should be ashamed.” I step forward. “If not for you, Lainey would still be alive.”

Dad lurches to a halt. His shoulders heave. “What did you say, son?”

I can't believe the words coming out of my mouth, but I can't stop them even if I want to. “I said it's your fault,
Father
. Lainey dying. It's all because of you and your rigid beliefs. She needed her family's support, and instead she went to Jasmine LaCroix for a hoodoo potion to abort her baby. How tragic is that?”

“Baby…” Dad slowly turns. “Did you say…”

“Lainey was pregnant. Imagine how terrified she must've been. How alone. She didn't have anyone to talk to. Nobody to confide in who wouldn't judge her. You've always preached about the sanctity of life, but Lainey's life is over. She died.”

“Jasmine LaCroix…”

“Lainey went to her for help because she couldn't come to us.”

The study door opens, and Uncle Jay steps out. He stands in the doorway, clutching the frame with both hands. Dad and I turn to him. He raises his hands. “No, I didn't keep a pregnancy from you, I swear.”

“Then why didn't I know about it?” Dad's voice booms through the corridor.

The bedroom door upstairs squeaks, and Mom races down the stairs. Her white cotton nightgown flaps around her bare knees. “What are you saying? What's going on?”

Silence fills the room.

I swallow hard and say, “Lainey was pregnant.”

Mom cries out. She falls forward. Dad catches her before she hits the ground and hoists her into his arms like she weighs less than nothing. She's lost too much weight over the last few days. Her eyes are ringed with dark circles. He carries her upstairs in silence while she sobs into his shoulder.

I turn to Uncle Jay who stares after them. Emotions flicker through his heavy eyes too quickly for me to read. “How could you not know?” I demand. “You did the autopsy.”

Uncle Jay shakes his head. “There were no signs of her giving birth recently nor was her uterus enlarged at the time of death. I didn't think to look further.”

“Then the whole pregnancy thing could be a lie?”

“I don't know, but I intend to find out if Lainey had a pregnancy terminated.” A hard glitter turns his eyes to slate. “But more important, I intend to discover how it was accomplished.”

I thought maybe I'd get some rest by sleeping in my old bedroom, but the implications of Uncle Jay's statement stick with me through the long night. Lainey went to Jasmine LaCroix for a magic fix. I heard it from the woman's mouth. She admitted to giving Lainey what she wanted. Women died from abortions before they became legal. What if Lainey's went horribly wrong and she died as a result? Would Mala even know about it? She seemed surprised when her mom mentioned Lainey went to her. Could she really be innocent?

If so, why does Lainey keep shoving me in her direction? Why can't I yank the guilt and suspicion out of my mind? I'd rather feel the agony of an unrequited crush than this churning pain. The last of Lainey's whisky calls to me around four a.m., but I pour it down the toilet and flush it. I scared Mala yesterday. If I don't go to her sober, she'll never let her guard down enough to trust me. And I have an idea I want to try out. It might not be the brightest plan—okay, it's more like shooting daisies—but I'm desperate.

I catch the bus at an ungodly hour. The ride up to Mala's place gives me time to work out what I'll say. I want to believe in her innocence. Until I have proof otherwise, I can't lie to her. Even if lying might get me farther to my goal. I wait by my truck until she comes out of the house. Mala stops short when she sees me and takes a step backward.

Crap! She's gonna run.

I raise my hand—Vulcan style. “I come in peace.”

Mala bites down on her bottom lip.

Okay, good. The joke disarms her enough that she doesn't scream and run back into the house, but she flicks a nervous glance over her shoulder.

Mala hugs herself after a tiny shiver, but her expression remains calm. “I think you mean ‘Live long and prosper.'”

Point one: Mala's a Trekkie. Who knew?

I can play it cool too. I shrug, sticking my hands in my pockets so I look nonthreatening. “That too.”

“What're you doing here?”

“I came to collect my truck.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, so why are you still here?”

“Figured you could use a lift to town. Don't you work today?”

She walks down the stairs and edges around me. She's careful not to come within grabbing distance. The lack of trust hurts, but it's not unexpected. “My shift doesn't start until twelve. I'm going early to buy groceries, but I can catch the bus.”

“It'll be faster if I drive you.” I fall in beside her.

She stretches her legs and walks faster.

Finally I can't take the silence. “Malaise, this is the best I can do for an apology.”

“The best you can do?” She spins around, and I fall back. Damn she's scary when pissed. Her nostrils flare as she stalks toward me. “What about saying ‘Hey, Mala, sorry I scared the snot out of you when I accused you of murder. Sorry I came to your house drunk and killed your favorite plant.' How about that, Landry Prince?”

I stand my ground. “I am sorry, Mala. For all that—and more.”

“More? There's more?”

Time to fall on my sword.
I glance toward the trees, then force my gaze to meet hers. I dredge up all the sincerity I can into my eyes and hope it'll be enough for a last-minute save. I can't believe I'm telling her this. I heave a heavy sigh and spill my dirty secret.

“Yeah, yesterday…in the woods, I'm the person who followed you to the bus stop.” Her face reddens with each word, but I force myself to continue. “I'm sorry. I wanted to talk to you about Lainey, b-but I didn't have the courage. Then you heard me and got scared.”

A choked gasp comes from her. Her trembling hands ball into fists. I take a quick step back 'cause she's gonna punch me. I know it. I deserve to get hit, so I won't defend myself. But damn, it'll hurt. She's not like Clarice. Mala's got muscles. With each second that passes, the tightness in my chest grows. She won't forgive me. I've blown it.

“Please, forgive me.” I lift my hand, and she jerks.

“Why? Why should I?” Mala presses her palms against her eyes, then lets her hands drop. Her eyes shine like ebony piano keys. I hurt her. I'm such an ass.

I stare at a fire ant hill. I should throw myself on her mercy and let her drizzle chocolate over my body for the ants. I bite my tongue, seconds away from suggesting the idea when I catch the kinky implications. Besides, if chocolate's involved in any form of makeup negotiations, it'd be more fun if I poured it all over her.

I tear my gaze from her heaving breasts. It's like my eyes have a mind of their own. Thank God she's avoiding looking at me and didn't see. Was I this goddamn stupid before Lainey died, or have my brain cells deteriorated from alcohol poisoning and lack of sleep? How am I supposed to come up with a decent plan to find my sister's killer when I can't focus long enough to manage an apology?

I should fall to my knees and beg.
“I really am sorry, Mala.” Pain flares in my right knee when I hit the ground. Crap, I fell on a rock. “I haven't been thinking straight since Lainey was killed. Something kept whispering your name in my ear. All I could think about was getting to you.”