Only By Moonlight (14 page)

“Where is Chase now?” LaShaun stood.

“He’s out on another case. Look, this wasn’t
a shooting or anything like that,” M.J. added when LaShaun showed
surprise. “Except for Chase running for Sheriff, I doubt anyone
outside the department would take notice. Definitely most of the
guys don’t see the big deal.”

“But we know differently, M.J. We know
Chase.” LaShaun sat down again and frowned with worry. “Chase
wouldn’t shove around a kid because he was black, suspect or
not.”

“Let’s face it; this department has a
reputation for being a less than sensitive group when it comes to
race and gender.” M.J. let out a humorless laugh when LaShaun
rolled her eyes.

“I’m shocked to the core,” LaShaun
retorted.

“Humph, I had it rough fifteen years ago when
I started. Toni is getting the same blow back. Things haven’t
changed as much or as fast as we’d like. Most of the guys gave him
props for messing up a perp.” M.J. wore a stern expression. “I’m
not included in that number, and my vote outnumbers them.”

“M.J., give him a chance to explain,” LaShaun
said.

“I did. He said the law-abiding citizens
expect us to hold the line on low lifes.” M.J. broke off when the
door to her office opened.

Chase smiled at LaShaun easily, as if his day
was going as usual. “Hey, baby. What are you doing here? Gonna
treat me to lunch I hope.”

LaShaun stood. “I was just... I came down
because... I got a call that you might have been hurt.”

“If you’re talking about that little dust up
out on Post Oak Lane, forget what you heard. I’ll bet by the time
the story gets around town, folks will say there was automatic
gunshots and dead bodies everywhere.” Chase laughed. He glanced at
M.J. “We got a three car accident with injuries out on Highway 35.
Bo and Larry are working it with the State Police. I’m going to
wrap up my report on the kid. Oh, and I’m going to interview Greg
Graham again at three this afternoon. I’ll bet you money he got
Becky to run off. Crazy kids.”

“You best postpone that talk with Greg
Graham,” M.J. said firmly.

“No reason. I’m fine,” Chase replied mildly
and then placed his hands on his waist. “Are you saying you don’t
trust me?”

“I don’t want a repeat performance of you
deciding to knock answers outta some smart ass kid. We both know
Greg fits that description,” M.J. shot back.

“You don’t have to worry unless Greg comes at
me like that other punk. Or would you like deputies on your watch
to get beaten or shot so we can be politically correct?” Chase
snapped.

M.J. stood up. “You better watch it, Chase.
I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. But acting like a
loose cannon commando around this parish is not how we enforce the
law. It wasn’t that way under Sheriff Triche, and it sure as hell
won’t be while I’m acting Sheriff.”

Chase and M.J. stared each other down.
Despite the itch to jump between them, LaShaun kept quiet. Not only
was M.J. the boss, but she had a right to be angry. Nor would Chase
appreciate her acting like his mother showing up to defend him in
the principal’s office. Tense seconds ticked by as LaShaun held her
breath. She let it out when Chase’s stony expression softened.

“Okay, you got a point,” Chase said.

“Oh yeah,” M.J. retorted, still steadfast in
asserting her authority. “We get more information by treating
suspects with respect, and even courtesy.”

“The kid in the trailer park really did come
at me. I could have used my training a little better, but he
grabbed at me like he was going for my gun,” Chase said in a calm
tone.

M.J. seemed to relax at his words. “I believe
you made a solid decision based on your professional judgment.”

“Thanks, Sheriff.” Chase’s usual easy smile
pulled up his lips. “Look, I’m on notice to keep it cool. I’ll be
the perfect gentleman lawman even when Greg or his daddy mouth
off.”

Deputy Ferdinand knocked and came in. “Sorry
to interrupt, but Patrick called. That’s deputy Anderson,” she said
to LaShaun in explanation. “They found scales, two bags of weed,
three thousand dollars and two Glocks in the kid’s trailer.”

“Damn kiddie crooks,” M.J. grumbled to no one
in particular.

“Good job, Chase,” Deputy Ferdinand said. “If
we’re lucky, the DA will charge him as an adult. I’d like to see
him locked up before he uses one of those guns to kill another
kid.”

Chase nodded with a solemn expression. “I
didn’t know all that when I knocked him down, but I had a feeling
the kid was dangerous. So, I’m good to go with the Grahams today,
boss?”

“Yeah, just remember...”

“He’s only a person of interest, not a
suspect. Gotcha.” Chase grinned widely.

“I was going to say behave yourself so you
can win the damn election. I sure as hell don’t wanna be in this
job longer than necessary. You and Dave keep clean, and stay
healthy.” M.J. gave a grunt and sat down.

“You can’t want Dave Godchaux for a boss. The
guys a self-righteous...” LaShaun stopped short when Dave appeared
and tapped on the glass section of M.J.’s office door.

“We’re having an action packed week, huh?”
Dave said.

“Doing what we’re paid to do, Dave. The
action comes from crooks,” Chase said. His smile stretched tight
across his face. When Dave glanced at LaShaun, Chase’s eyes
narrowed.

“Afternoon, ma’am,” Dave gave LaShaun a
courteous nod. He glanced at M.J. “I’m going to make a loop around
Black Bayou and a few miles down Highway 85. Call if you need
me.”

“Thanks,” M.J. said evenly.

With a final curt nod, Dave closed the door
again and strode off. They watched him turn down the hallway that
led to the exit used by deputies and other employees only.

“Call if you need me,” Chase said, mimicking
Dave’s officious manner.

“Dave isn’t the enemy. Sure he’s got his
ways, but we all do.” M.J. slapped open a folder. “I’m sure there
are stories going around about me being a pain as the boss. Now go.
I’ve got work to do, and a mayor’s jumpy nerves to soothe about
legal action.”

“We’re getting out of your way, boss,” Chase
said. “I’m taking you up on that lunch treat, lady.”

“I didn’t mention treating you to lunch,
Deputy Broussard. You came up with the idea,” LaShaun tossed back
at him.

“It’s a mighty good one, too. I’m hungry.
Knocking sense into gangsters really works up an appetite,” Chase
quipped.

“Hey!” M.J. cracked at him and pointed a
forefinger. “Not funny.”

Chase held up both hands. “I won’t repeat it
outside these hallowed walls.”

M.J. sighed deeply as she shook her head.
“The election can’t happen soon enough for me.”

Chase opened the door and let LaShaun go
first. “I’m right there with you, boss lady. Win or lose, I’m ready
for the whole thing to get done. See you later, and don’t worry.
With the election everything gets blown way up.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” M.J. said softly. She
flipped through a report as though she’d already moved on to more
important matters.

Chase and LaShaun walked three blocks toward
a new downtown restaurant. Mardi Gras was only a week away.
February would be gone, and March would roar in with more cold
weather according to the forecasts. They would be married in just a
few short weeks. LaShaun shivered even though the day had turned
warmer with the temperature in the mid sixties. She stole sideways
glances at Chase. He walked with confidence as though life was
normal.

The shops and street lamps were decorated
with purple, gold and green, the traditional colors of Mardi Gras
in Louisiana. Giant masks hung on doors. Each lamp post had a fleur
de lis made of glittering ribbon. They reached the shop owned by
Savannah’s father, Antoine St. Julien. His storefront stood out
among all of the Fat Tuesday finery. Mr. St. Julien was skilled at
carving wood. LaShaun had no doubt that the Mardi Gras float
replica so elaborately decorated was his handwork. Tiny dolls had
been arranged inside it, some holding beads. A small crowd of
admirers gathered around. Mr. St. Julien appeared in the window. He
smiled and beckoned them inside.

“Welcome. I haven’t seen you in a long time.
How’ve you been?” Mr. St. Julien said warmly and gave LaShaun a
hug.

His paternal attention always slightly
embarrassed LaShaun, but made her feel happy as well. The soft burr
of his Creole accent could soothe the most jangled nerves. She
smiled at him shyly. “I’m doing good, Mr. St. Julien. How’re you
feeling now? Savannah says you’ve been sick.”

“She makin’ a big deal over a little
arthritis. Old men gonna creak like old houses.” Mr. St. Julien
laughed at his own joke. He turned to Chase. “How’s our soon-to-be
sheriff?”

Chase grinned. “Can’t complain, sir. I hope
you been lookin’ in a crystal ball. If so, I won’t spend any more
money on campaign signs.”

“Naw, I ain’t got the sight. I just hear good
things being said ‘bout you round town, son. Y’all fixin’ to get
some lunch at that new place?” Mr. St. Julien pointed west, the
direction they were headed.

“Yeah, figured we’d give it a try,” Chase
said.

“They got good burgers I hear. I got to avoid
beef these days and eat heart healthy.” Mr. St. Julien lowered his
voice and leaned forward. “But try the fried alligator tenders with
tartar sauce. Owwee, that’s good eatin’. But don’t tell Savannah or
my sister Marie.”

“My lips are sealed. We guys gotta stick
together,” Chase said with a wink.

“Follow medical advice,” LaShaun broke in.
“You’re needed.”

Mr. St. Julien waved a hand. “Ah, I’m gonna
stay around for the children and grandchildren,” he said, referring
to Savannah, her husband Paul and their twin girls.

“Also take you heart medicine,” LaShaun
pressed.

She put her arm through his as though
encouraging him. What she really wanted was to see if she sensed
that he might get sick any time soon. LaShaun had known when her
beloved grandmother was moving on to the other side. To LaShaun’s
relief, nothing came to her. She relaxed, patted his forearm and
then let go.

“Pooh, I’ll be here to stir up trouble for
awhile yet. Deputy Dave been puttin’ the word out that he’s more
level-headed.” Mr. St. Julien frowned. “I say we need fresh
blood.”

“No comment.” Chase smiled all the same.

LaShaun cleared her throat. She felt
uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. “That float
in the window is gorgeous. Are you selling it?”

“I keep that for the store. I made two
special order for Quentin Trosclair. Yeah, I know what you’re
thinkin’, cher,” Mr. St. Julien said when LaShaun grimaced. “But he
paid good money, too good to turn down. Five thousand for the
pair.”

Chase let out a low whistle. “Whoa. I would
have delivered those bad boys on my back for that price.”

“Nah. I carried ‘em in my truck right to his
doorstep though.” Mr. St. Julien shared a laugh with him.

“Just like Quentin to suck people in,”
LaShaun retorted. Quentin used money and charm to get what he
wanted.

“Don’t worry. I know what he is. Trosclair is
having a big Mardi Gras ball at that big mansion of his this
weekend. That’s how the Trosclair family did it back in the day,
you know. All the way back to the turn of the century they been
havin’ those fancy shindigs. Spend a fortune.” Mr. St. Julien
frowned. “I hear them parties get wild, too.”

“Well at least he doesn’t have the power his
grandfather and great-grandfather had around here. Like you said,
it’s a new day,” Chase said. He pulled LaShaun closer to him. “The
Trosclair name doesn’t send folks running to do their bidding
anymore.”

“Right,” Mr. St. Julien agreed.

The folks they called “Old Beau Chene” knew
well about LaShaun’s intense affair with the rich man’s son years
before. LaShaun was barely out of her teens, and using her gifts in
all the wrong ways. She saw Quentin as a way to gain a fortune and
power. The legends about LaShaun’s ancestors said the Rousselle
clan had done the same for generations. LaShaun pushed aside the
familiar weight of the dark family history.

“You should make a few more, Mr. St. Julien.
I’ll bet you’d pick some more wealthy pockets if you did,” LaShaun
joked to lighten the tone of the conversation.

“You might be onto something, little lady.
Y’all go enjoy your lunch.” Mr. St. Julien gave Chase a handshake.
“You keep these criminals in line.”

“I’m working on it, sir. You have a great
day.” Chase gave him a pat on the shoulder.

“Bye-bye.” LaShaun accepted a peck on the
cheek from the older man.

“You take care. I’m so happy you’re going to
have a wedding and a family soon.” Mr. St. Julien beamed at them
both.

“A wedding yes, but if you mean...” LaShaun
blushed and blinked rapidly.

“I’m going to consider them my grandchildren,
too,” Mr. St. Julien said, taking the thought even farther.

“You sure can,” Chase piped up. He grinned
when LaShaun poked his side with an elbow. “What?”

“You gonna have babies. Your Monmon Odette
told as much,” Mr. St. Julien said. His sister, Miss Marie, came
out of the back of the store talking to an employee. She joined
them.

“Who gonna have babies?” she said, and waved
hello to LaShaun and Chase. Then she looked at them again. “Oh, are
you?”

“No,” LaShaun said fast, loudly and
firmly.

“All young couples have them some babies,
it’s natural as rain and sunshine. Why we’d have an empty, sad
world without babies,” Mr. St. Julien went on, oblivious to
LaShaun’s blushes.

“Antoine, shush. You just have to forgive my
brother. He don’t know better than to say what’s on his mind.” Miss
Marie shook a finger at her brother.

“Oh shoot, I’m just tellin’ the truth. Bye,
darlin’.” Mr. St. Julien winked at LaShaun.