Only By Moonlight (17 page)

“Well don’t fall over with delight, darlin’.
I was just kidding about you convincing ‘The Candidate’ by the way.
He’s quite the political climber. Neal says he was eager to
come.”

“How exactly do you know Neal?” LaShaun
ignored his dig at Chase.

“We were at Princeton together. Before they
kicked me out that is. The men in our respective families have
attended since before the Civil War. Anyway, he graduated and came
to Tulane law school. I was there work on my MBA. Grandfather
whipped me into shape and made me finish college.” Quentin lifted
his glass. “Here’s to grand old granddad.”

LaShaun eyed him closer. He swayed ever so
slightly. “So you two stayed in touch.”

“We’ve been great friends for years. He’s
considered a legal genius across the country. He’s even given
lectures at international conferences.” Quentin sidled up close to
LaShaun as though they were on great terms. “But he still knows how
to have fun, too.”

“Odd he happens to be in Vermilion Parish
representing a serial killer, since he’s such a prominent man in
the legal world,” LaShaun said. She noted with satisfaction the
brief glint in Quentin’s eyes. He wasn’t as drunk as he
pretended.

“Neal doesn’t take on battles he can’t win.
So there must be solid evidence the man is innocent.” Quentin
nodded slowly.

“That’s bull,” LaShaun said bluntly.

“I like how you deliver an opinion. Straight,
no chaser. Brings back the old days when we were... close,
remember?”

LaShaun rolled her eyes. “Yes, unfortunately
I remember more than I’d care to.”

“Now darlin’, don’t be like that.” Quentin’s
gaze swept over her body.

Jonathan Graham stumbled around and through
other party goers until he got to them. He gave Quentin a look of
contempt. Dark beer sloshed over the side of the large glass mug he
held in one fist. “Well, I see you’re still chasing other men’s
wives. Slimy son of a...”

“Drink my liquor and insult me. Isn’t that
what the perfect guest should do?” Quentin replied mildly.

Allison Graham stood across the room. She
didn’t move to intervene or stop her husband’s behavior. Most of
the other guests kept right on partying, as though they were used
to drunken confrontations on the subject of adultery. A few shook
their heads and headed off to get more food or drink.

“Stay the hell away from Allison you bastard.
Screwing half the population of Louisiana doesn’t keep you busy
enough?” Jonathan shouted.

“Mr. Graham, maybe you should give the
drinking a rest and go get some fresh air,” LaShaun said
quietly.

“And what the hell is she doing here? Her man
must not know about the history between you two. I’ll bet you’re
going to give him a couple of earfuls, huh Quentin?” Jonathan
lurched toward LaShaun. “Yeah, bet he’s got some stories to tell
about you.”

“Making a scene won’t help your family at
all, Jonathan,” Quentin said in a reasoned tone. “Your son is in
quite enough trouble. That’s where your focus should be. Not on
baseless accusations.”

“You don’t know a damn thing about my son,”
Jonathan snapped. He pointed at LaShaun. “And you stop filling my
wife’s head with a lot of bullshit jungle magic.”

Chase strode up. “Just what the hell does
that mean, Mr. Graham?”

Chapter 10

LaShaun’s heart pumped double-time in fear at
the wildness in Chase’s eyes. He stood gazing at Jonathan; his
hands flexed open and then into twin closed fists. Every muscle in
his tall powerful body seemed poised to spring on the man. A circle
of Quentin’s guests seemed keen to witness a smack down. Jonathan
Graham looked at Chase for a full minute without saying anything.
He must have seen the dangerous line he’d crossed.

“Forget it,” he mumbled and pushed his way
through a knot of costumed party guests.

“What do you expect? He’s only two
generations from being like those swamp characters on television,”
a woman said quietly to her two companions, her patrician southern
drawl damning him for not having true blue blood.

“I don’t know why Jon is complaining. He’s
been banging Missy Edwards forever, and Allison knows it,” her male
companion replied. All three wandered off laughing.

“That was... interesting. Remind me not to
cross your lover, lover,” Quentin whispered in her ear. Then he
turned to Chase. “I apologize for that unpleasant spectacle. I
certainly didn’t invite you here to be insulted.”

“No problem,” Chase replied. Still he watched
Jonathan Graham walk to the bar set up in a corner of the living
room.

“Maybe we should...” LaShaun stopped when
Chase raised a hand.

“I gotta take this.” Chase pulled out his
vibrating cell phone, glanced at the display and answered. The
crowd parted to let him through.

“Now that’s what I call a real sheriff. He
takes no bullshit,” an older man said in a gruff voice. “We need
somebody that will kick ass with these trashy types around here.
Hear that, Quent?”

“Yes, Uncle Hugh. I hear you.” Quentin gave
LaShaun a sideways wink. He lowered his voice and guided LaShaun
away. “That’s my mother’s youngest brother. Uncle Hugh is a crusty
old bastard, but he’s rich as sin. I try not to disagree with
him.”

“How fascinating,” LaShaun murmured. She
watched the front door swing shut as Chase went onto the porch.
Then she walked toward a window. Chase leaned against one of the
huge columns, still on the phone.

“I’m sure he’ll be just fine,” Quentin said
over her shoulder. “You really are into him.”

LaShaun turned to face him. “I love him
fiercely.”

Before Quentin could answer, Neal Montgomery
appeared out of nowhere. “It seems Deputy Broussard is taking a
serious business call. Trouble somewhere has flared up.”

“A lawman’s work is never done,” Quentin put
in.

Something pricked LaShaun’s senses. She
stared at Montgomery. “What do you...”

“LaShaun, I’ve got to leave. I’ll get your
wrap,” Chase said.

Quentin smiled at LaShaun without looking at
Chase. “I’ll see LaShaun gets home safe and sound, Deputy
Broussard. That way you won’t be delayed answering an important
call.”

LaShaun took Chase’s hand. “Lovely party,
thanks for inviting us.”

“Come again,” Quentin shot back.

Janine walked up next to Quentin and put a
hand around his shoulder. “Yes, please do come back. We’d both love
to have you.”

LaShaun tilted her head to one side. No, she
hadn’t imagined the sexual innuendo in the woman’s tone.
“Goodbye.”

Chase nodded and tugged on LaShaun’s hand to
urge her along. The woman who’d taken the coats saw them coming and
disappeared into the living room. Minutes later she came back with
LaShaun’s cloak. She helped wrap it around LaShaun’s shoulders.

“I told you I’d remember. Thanks for spicing
up this gig,” the woman whispered to LaShaun. “You made even the
best of these ladies look like hags.” She chuckled as she stepped
away.

“Thank you,” LaShaun said with a laugh.

“You’re welcome ma’am. Thank you, sir,” the
woman said with delight when Chase handed her a ten dollar bill as
a tip.

As they left, LaShaun looked back to see
Quentin, Janine, Neal Montgomery and Krystal Hardy watching them.
They had the look of hounds observing potential targets for a hunt.
LaShaun moved closer to Chase, gripping his hand tighter. They
waited a few seconds for the valet to get his truck since Chase had
already talked to the valet. As soon as the truck doors shut and
they were alone, LaShaun turned to him.

“What’s happened?” she asked.

“A guy was found wandering around Black Bayou
Road. He was all beat and mumbling nonsense.” Chase turned on the
heater when LaShaun shivered. “It’ll warm up soon enough,
honey.”

LaShaun nodded, but the chill she felt wasn’t
because of the weather. “Okay, so some drunk guy got into a fight.
Why is that an emergency for you?”

“Because the deputy followed a trail of blood
and found a body. They can’t tell if it’s male or female.” Chase
wore a grim expression.

“I don’t understand,” LaShaun replied.

“The body is so cut up we’ll have to wait for
the corner to tell us.”

***

An hour after Chase had dropped LaShaun off
at home, she had taken off her finery, and was curled up on the
sofa of her den off the large kitchen of her home. She wore her
favorite Southern University sweat suit and slipper socks. She
cupped a mug of chamomile tea with honey in both hands as she
waited for news to come on. A local access television channel
showed a replay of the ten o’clock news broadcast every two hours.
When the credits rolled at the end of an old detective series from
the 80s, LaShaun turned up the volume. After a commercial
advertising a furniture store, the news show graphics flashed
on.

“Good evening and thank you for tuning in to
KATC. We start with breaking news out of Vermilion Parish. A state
police spokesperson tells us that a body has been discovered on a
rural road near Black Bayou. Few details have been released, but
sources tell KATC news that the sheriff’s department and state
police suspect foul play. This is based on the condition of the
body when found. We’ll bring you updates when we learn more. In
other news...”

The blonde anchorman’s voice faded when
LaShaun turned down the volume again. She stared ahead without
seeing the images of annoyed politicians squabbling. Instead she
thought of other events in the parish. LaShaun did not ponder if
they were connected. The familiar tingling beneath her skin
confirmed it. Now she waited for a vision or image to come, but she
felt nothing. She had no more than the unsettled feeling that more
bad things were on the way. After a time, LaShaun went to the bay
window looking out over her back lawn. Despite the dread in the pit
of her stomach, she looked at the woods. No blue light. Yet she
wasn’t comforted by its absence. The thing was off stalking human
victims. In fact, LaShaun had to face the possibility that the
spirit had begun to influence Chase. Such dark thoughts made her
mind freeze with fear. She began to tremble. Chase could handle
himself against any threat from a human criminal. What could he do
against an attack on his very soul?

The ringing telephone startled her into
spilling tea on her sweat shirt. She ignored the feel of the hot
liquid and the stain. Instead she put the mug down on the table and
rushed to the phone. Snatching up the handset, she noticed what the
caller ID displayed.

“Hey, babe. I figured you watched the news.
Just checking in so you won’t worry. Gonna be a long night of
dealing with this latest mess we got.” Chase let out a long
sigh.

“Thank God you sound normal,” LaShaun blurted
out.

“What’s that?” Chase’s puzzled tone came
through the receiver.

“I mean, I’m glad you’re okay,” LaShaun put
in quickly and cursed at the slip.

“Humph, okay as I can be after what I’ve
seen. Feels like somebody has been rubbing sandpaper on my eyes.”
Chase sighed again.

“Come home to me when you finally wrap up.
I’ll fix waffles and andouille sausage, your favorites. I’ve got
that new local blend coffee you like, too.”

“You’re too good to me, girl. Is that why I’m
so crazy about you?” Chase joked.

“I don’t know, soon-to-be Sheriff Broussard.
You can list all the reasons for me, cher.” LaShaun went back to
the sofa and sat down again. “I’ll have a fire lit for you.”

“I’ll have a fire for you, too,” Chase said
with a chuckle. “I gotta go, babe.”

“Wait a sec, just tell me you’re coming by,”
LaShaun said quickly.

“I don’t know. Let me call you in another
couple of hours or so. You might not want me to, not with the smell
of death on my clothes,” Chase said, the light joking lilt gone
from his Cajun accent.

“Bad, huh?” LaShaun knew the answer even as
she asked the question.

“Worse than they say some of the bodies Manny
Young left behind,” Chase replied.

“My Lord.” The doorbell rang and LaShaun
stood. “Somebody’s at the door...”

“Do not answer it, LaShaun,” Chase barked
into the phone. “There’s a crazy person running loose. Just let
them assume you’re not home. LaShaun, are you hearing me?”

“Calm down. I can handle myself.” LaShaun
darted into her bedroom. She took her antique silver dagger from
the nightstand drawer. “I’ve got a couple of extra shotguns in the
case thanks to you, honey.”

“We’ll debate your self-defense skills
another time. Just let the doorbell ring. I can get to your house
in ten minutes. Stay away from the door.” Chase spoke fast, the
words shooting through the phone like bullets.

“You’re upset because of what you’ve seen.
I’m going to be fine.”

LaShaun nodded as though Chase could see her.
She walked down the hallway and looked out of the window. More
words of reassurance dried up in her throat. Greg Graham stood on
her front porch with a young girl next to him. His clothes were
rumpled. An ominous stain smeared the front of his jacket.

“I know you’re in there looking at me,” Greg
shouted.

The girl next to him jumped every time he
moved. LaShaun glanced down. Greg held a long butcher knife in one
hand pointed down. “We’ve got a problem. I have to go outside.”

“Like hell you do. Look--”

“Greg Graham is on my front porch holding a
knife, and he’s got a girl with him,” LaShaun whispered. “I’m going
to put the phone on speaker. Get here. Fast.”

LaShaun slipped the phone into a pocket in
her sweatpants. “Uh, hey Greg. Give me a chance to put on some
clothes, okay? I wasn’t expecting company.”

“Open the damn door and quit stalling. We
need your help,” Greg shouted back. His voice went high, almost
into a shriek.