Only By Moonlight (2 page)

“Look at the location, cher.”

“Sheriff Henry told this reporter that Deputy
Bill Fontaine found Joseph and Eliza Ducommon on the dirt lane
locals called Duck Lane just off... Highway 694.” LaShaun shuddered
when the prickle spread up her arms again. The sensation was more
intense, like a combination of a static shock and pins sticking
into her skin.

“Your monmon and me been watching for many a
year, child. We kept hoping this thing, this evil, would be
banished. We tried our best. I’m afraid you’ll have to fight it
now. After Odette got so sick, I went to see her. You hadn’t come
home yet. She knew.”

“That she wouldn’t live much longer,” LaShaun
whispered as though talking to herself.

“More than that, cher. She knew that you
would have to face down this evil.” When LaShaun looked at her
sharply, Miss Rose put a hand on LaShaun’s arm. “Yes, the spirit in
the woods. Odette called it a loa, from the Voudoun religion. A
spirit called up by your ancestors. Greed drove Isidore LeGrange to
call this fiendish force into our world. Arrogance convinced him he
had the strength to control it.”

“But Loa are strong, unpredictable. They
always have their own agenda. They will turn on their human guide
just for amusement,” LaShaun said, repeating what she’d read.

“Malicious loa may be a different culture’s
name for Satan’s demons,” Miss Rose replied.

“You think these kids acting stupid stumbled
onto a real ritual that called up this spirit again?” LaShaun
looked at her.

“And have paid for their stupidity in blood,
cher,” Miss Rose said in a bleak tone.

“Coincidence, Miss Rose.” LaShaun gave the
older woman an indulgent pat on the hand.

“I know you thought, or more likely hoped,
that thing was gone for good, child,” Miss Rose said, her voice
soft and sympathetic.

“No, ma’am. I prayed and prayed hard,”
LaShaun replied. She smiled at the older woman, squeezed her hand
and stood. “Thank you, Miss Rose. But this time I’m sure that we
don’t have to worry.”

Miss Rose stood with her. “I feel better
hearing you sound so confident. But if you need me, call. I’m old,
but I still pack a punch if I do say so myself.”

“I couldn’t ask for a better sidekick, but I
won’t need that help,” LaShaun replied and hugged Miss Rose.

“You come over here anytime, cher. I’ll whip
up some blackberry cobbler, and we’ll have us a good old time,”
Miss Rose said and hugged her back. “One more thing; Odette didn’t
want you to be bitter against your family. The evil infected your
family bloodline, she said. Greed and the hunger for power crossed
generations.”

LaShaun turned to leave, but then stopped
short. She stared at Miss Rose. “Wait a minute. What is the
connection between those murders over decades?”

“I’m sorry, cher. I wish I could tell you.
Odette and me couldn’t figure that one out. We just sensed the
pattern. Same as when I saw the news last night.” Miss Rose shook
her head. “So much death.”

“I’ll search archives online and let you know
what I find out,” LaShaun said.

“Email it to me.” Miss Rose grinned at
LaShaun’s surprised expression. “My granddaughter bought me a
tablet computer and taught me how to use it. Child, I’m hooked on
that thing. Let me get it.” She went to a shelf on the same
cupboard and came back with it.

LaShaun sent an email to herself from Miss
Rose’s tablet. Miss Rose wrapped up slices of banana bread for
LaShaun to take with her. After repeated assurances that she would
keep Miss Rose informed and it was probably nothing, LaShaun left
for home. On the ride to Beau Chene, LaShaun rehearsed breaking
this latest news to Chase. Once again, the supernatural mixed with
human stupidity played into Vermilion Parish crime. Chase and M.J.
Arceneaux, the acting Sheriff, would not be pleased.

“Maybe I can figure it out. It’s not like I’m
keeping secrets. All Miss Rose has is a faded newspaper article and
intuition,” LaShaun mused aloud as she turned onto Highway
Eighty-two. Still, a tiny prickle argued with LaShaun’s attempt to
stay grounded in the natural world. Miss Rose was no ordinary
septuagenarian holding on to hundred-year-old superstitions.

Chapter 2

That evening, LaShaun didn’t need paranormal
powers to know Chase would be working late. The body of a local
drug dealer had been found in a local farmer’s crawfish pond.
LaShaun watched the six o’clock evening news on the kitchen
television as she picked over her supper. The perky young brunette
seemed excited. She had the air of suppressed glee as she reported
one more crime in the Beau Chene area.

“Javon Collins had been in the parish prison
on a drug charge and being a convicted felon in possession of a
firearm,” the reporter said. “He was out on bond. Authorities found
two bags of marijuana in a car parked along the road nearby. The
car was stolen last week.”

“I’ll bet the locals will have a party
criticizing M.J. now,” LaShaun muttered.

As if she’d heard LaShaun’s words, the
reporter put on an affected solemn expression. “Tune in to our ten
o’clock broadcast. Channel Six News will have a special report.
Three teenagers are victims of a bizarre attack, only two of them
survive. Is our Sheriff’s Department prepared to deal with
twenty-first century crime? We’ll examine the issue of rural
settings with big city crime. Next, we’ll have our forecast.” She
smiled into the camera.

“Damn, don’t sound so happy about it,”
LaShaun complained.

She got up from the counter, covered the
small bowl of gumbo, and put it in the fridge. Just as she started
to wash her few dishes, the front door chimes trilled. LaShaun
glanced at the clock, wondering who had driven out so far at night.
She went to a window in the formal parlor and peeked out. Her
friend, attorney Savannah Honoré, stood on the porch in the soft
yellow porch light. Her husband Paul was with her, which shocked
LaShaun. Paul was polite whenever they happened to meet, but
LaShaun knew he had qualms about the wisdom of Savannah being
friends with the infamous voodoo woman of Beau Chene. The fact that
LaShaun kept getting pulled into gruesome and weird crimes didn’t
ease his mind. LaShaun unlocked the front door.

“Good evening. Come in and satisfy my
curiosity,” LaShaun said with a grin at Savannah and a nod to
Paul.

“Hello. I tried to talk Savannah out of
dropping in without calling. Cell phones make it easy,” Paul said
and gave an exasperated grunt.

Savannah locked the front door like she was
at home. Then she gave LaShaun a quick hug. “Oh will you stop. I
had a weak signal on my wonderfully advanced smart phone, so I
couldn’t call. Hey girl. How y’all doin’?” Savannah asked.

“Come on back to the kitchen. I was just in
there watching television. I made gumbo today. Y’all welcome to
have some,” LaShaun said and led the way down the hallway.

“Nah, we can’t stay long. We gotta go pick up
the kids. You remember Charice, don’t you?” Savannah hopped on a
stool and patted the one next to her. Her husband sat down
obediently.

“Yes,” LaShaun replied.

Savannah and Charice had been best buds since
the third grade. Now they both had a set of twin girls, and even
more in common. Charice’s girls were older than the Honoré
eleven-year-olds, and more like older sisters the girls idolized.
LaShaun smiled as she imagined the combined energy and noise four
girls would make. A wave of longing swept over her as she thought
about having a family. Paul’s deep voice broke into her
thoughts.

“Nice kitchen. I like the red and brown color
scheme, makes this large space look homey.” Paul rubbed a palm over
the granite countertop in appreciation.

“Why thank you,” LaShaun said. She watched in
amusement as he studied the rest of room. “No eye of newt and
tongue of dog. Just chicken and sausage gumbo in the pot,” she
joked, making a reference to the witches brew from Shakespeare’s
play Macbeth.

Paul blinked for a second, then burst out
laughing. “Okay, okay. I deserved that. I was thinking how... um,
normal the placed looked.”

“I hid the jars of dead black cats and goofer
dust,” LaShaun replied laughing with him.

Savannah slapped her husband’s shoulder
playfully. “Don’t come in here embarrassing me. Oh, wait a minute.
You’ve never been to LaShaun’s house before.”

“And he wasn’t sure what to expect, so he
came to protect you from eee-vil,” LaShaun intoned in a deep,
horror movie tone of voice.

“Well, I wouldn’t put it quite that way,”
Paul said with a sheepish half-grin at his wife.

“Oh Lawd have mercy, Paul.” Savannah shook
her head.

“No, he’s got a good point, especially with
everything happening around here lately. I don’t blame him for
worrying about you wandering around at night these days,” LaShaun
said.

Paul and Savannah glanced at each other. As
if on some silent cue they’d agreed on beforehand, Paul stood and
pointed to the television. “I’m going to watch the sports channel
if y’all don’t mind.”

“Sure,” LaShaun said.

She watched him cross the open floor plan to
the family room area. He found the remote and moments later seemed
engrossed in reports on scores. Ex-athletes exchanged banter about
upcoming games and made predictions. LaShaun turned back to
Savannah with her eyebrows raised.

“So now you’re going to tell me the reason
for this visit, huh? You guys have been married long enough that
you’ve got the secret signals perfected,” LaShaun joked.

“Yeah, and I’ll bet you already have the same
connection to Chase. I’ve seen you two together. I’m so looking
forward to your wedding.” Savannah grinned at LaShaun. “Girl, y’all
the talk of Beau Chene. My daddy is happy for you, too. He says
your mama and Miss Odette would be so proud.”

Antoine St. Julien had always been kindly
toward LaShaun. LaShaun smiled. “Tell him I said hello. Now back to
the subject of you dragging poor Paul out here. You took a detour
out to my house because...” LaShaun sat down and crossed her
arms.

“Allison Graham asked me to come out and talk
to you,” Savannah said low.

“Who is that?” LaShaun blinked at her.

“Her son, Greg, was one of the teenagers
found hanging from three different oak trees,” Savannah said with a
grim frown.

“No,” LaShaun blurted out.

“Greg is the only survivor who’s talking. The
girl, Rebecca Saucier, is still in shock. She won’t say a word. The
third kid, a boy named Elliot Dubois, was pronounced dead at the
scene.” Savannah spoke quietly as she glanced over at her husband.
Paul seemed engrossed with the sports report and took no
notice.

“Tell his mama I didn’t have anything to do
with it,” LaShaun retorted. She cut in before Savannah could reply.
“No, I’m sick of people around here saying I’m involved in every
freaky act their kinfolks get into.”

“LaShaun, she--”

“I don’t care what she’s heard, Savannah.
It’s her fault she didn’t know what her darlin’ boy got up to in
the woods.”

“Just shut your mouth for ten seconds,”
Savannah said through clenched teeth. She sighed when LaShaun
crossed her arms.

“I’m listening.” LaShaun glared back at her
friend.

“She’s not blaming you for anything. In fact.
she came to my Abbeville office and--”

LaShaun leaned forward. “Wait a minute. You
have an Abbeville office? Ms. Big Time Attorney got multiple
offices.”

“Yes, I’m practicing with another attorney in
Iberia and Lafayette Parishes,” Savannah said. “Now for the last
time, stop interrupting me, damn it.”

“Promise to tell me about your plan to rule
the legal world later.” LaShaun grinned at her. When Savannah
squinted back, LaShaun sighed. “Alright, alright. Go ahead. Allison
Graham snuck out of town to consult you.”

“Exactly. Oh she tried to play it off. She
claimed she was going to be in Abbeville anyway and that meeting
there would be more convenient, so I agreed to the cloak and dagger
stuff. Came in with a scarf wrapped around her face, dark
sunglasses, and her hair tucked into a knit hat,” Savannah
said.

“Can’t say I blame her with all the
sensational talk going around the parish,” LaShaun replied.

“Luckily, M.J. has kept details from leaking
to the media, but we have a short window of opportunity before the
hounds are released.” Savannah got up and went to the fridge. She
found a bottle of cream soda and then turned to her husband.
“Honey, you want something to drink?”

“If LaShaun doesn’t mind, a beer would be
nice,” Paul called back.

“She’s fine with it,” Savannah replied and
found a bottle of a locally brewed beer. She talked as she found
tortilla chips and poured them into a large bowl. She filled a
smaller bowl for herself.

“No problem, Paul. Obviously your wife knows
where everything is in my kitchen,” LaShaun quipped as Savannah
took a wooden tray and carried him the snacks.

“Shush, I’m going to keep him happy so I can
tell you this story,” Savannah whispered as she walked past
LaShaun. “There you go. We’ll be ready to leave in a bit.”

“Um-hum,” Paul answered without taking his
gaze from the television. When Savannah put the tray on the end
table near his elbow, he picked up the beer. “Thanks, ladies.”

Savannah sat down next to LaShaun again.
“Anyway, Mrs. Graham is afraid Greg got involved in some kind of
Goth group at school. They started off playing one of those spooky
role-playing games, Wizards and Witches or something. She’s not
even sure what it’s called. The kids made it up.”

“Lovely. Violent video games got boring I
suppose,” LaShaun blurted out. When Savannah gave her a mean look,
she raised a hand. “Sorry, sorry. Keep going.”

“Mrs. Graham wants to know if you and Chase
have been investigating any... Ahem, demonic activity or something
equally silly. I told her I would ask, but honestly, I thought
you’d get a kick out of this. Ha, ha.” Savannah gave a weak laugh
and studied LaShaun as though looking for a sign. “Please laugh
this off with me and tell me it’s absurd.”