Chapter 5
Chloe
“I can’t come to work.”
The next morning, I peered out the window at the porch once more. But instead of seeing a handsome man on my doorstep, there was a massive alligator, just chilling on the welcome mat, as if it expected me to invite it in.
“Why?” Nettie asked.
I’d called her after I discovered my gator emergency.
“I’m sorry. Didn’t you hear me? There's a gator. On the porch.” I said the words really slow, so it sunk in.
Although the creature hadn’t moved much. It was just lying there with its mouth open, ready to bite. Its eyes were closed. Maybe it was asleep? And dreaming of tasty things to eat?
The house had a side entrance, a set of stairs leading up from the basement, but Mamie hadn’t been down there in years, from what I could tell. When I’d investigated last week, there’d been a bunch of sticky cobwebs everywhere.
And God knows how big the spiders might be.
I don’t do well with creepy crawlies. I wasn’t choosing between spiders or gators, thank you very much.
“How long is it?”
“How long is what?”
Nettie sighed. “The gator.”
“It’s not like I have a tape measure, but I guess about 8 feet.” Even if I did have one, I wouldn’t be fitting the damn thing for a suit.
“Are you sure?”
“Um, yes, why?”
“Is there a scar on one side?”
Upon further inspection, I noticed a white gash just above his belly.
“Yup.”
“Ahh,” Nettie said, as though she’d made a diagnosis. “It’s the Kraken.”
Seriously? This monster was the mother-truckin’ Kraken she’d mentioned the other day. So, this was an actual thing. Not like the rougarou. I’d heard childhood legends about the wolf-men snatching up kids who didn’t come inside when their parents called them for dinner.
Pretty convenient folktale, huh? And told by mothers all over the bayou.
Why should I be surprised? Of course, the townies have a local alligator they treated like a neighbor. Only in Bayou Noir.
“Don’t worry, he don’t mean ya no harm. Just give him wide berth and sneak past him.”
Who was she kidding? The thing had shiny razor-sharp teeth. Going anywhere near it wasn’t an option. I’d seen those PBS nature shows, and I knew what was coming. This was the part where the stupid gazelle or antelope, played by me, got snatched off the river bank.
Wait. No, that’s crocodiles.
Same difference. Both of them are bitey reptiles.
“Yeah, I don’t think so.”
“Don’t be such a fraidy cat.” She sighed. “He’s an old gator and he don’t move too fast. Let me tell you whatcha gonna do.”
“Okay.” I blew out a breath and relaxed a bit. Maybe there was a reasonable procedure for this kind of thing.
“Go to the closet.”
I dutifully went. “Alright.”
“Grab yourself a broom.”
I picked up a straw broom. “I got it.”
“Now, shoo him away. He’ll scoot on back to the swamp rapidement.”
“Let me get this straight. You want me to sweep a gator? Like a pile of dirt?”
“Oui.”
“Oh helllll no. Screw that.”
What I needed to find was that freaking shotgun. I should’ve dug it out last night. While I had no intention of shooting the creature, a warning shot should scare it off.
“Watch your mouth, young lady.”
“Sorry, ma’am.”
She heaved another sigh. “You aren’t going outside, are you?”
“Nope.”
Nettie tsked. “You’re already twenty minutes late.”
I grimaced. “Sorry, but I did call in. And I think this falls under act of God.”
“More like Kalfou. He’s testin’ my patience.”
“Don’t bring voodoo gods into this.”
“Loas.”
“Okay.” I gritted my teeth.
“Fine, I’ll send Saint over to deal with him.”
“Oh no, that won’t be necessary. I can figure out another way.” Even if I had to run through the Charlotte’s Web gauntlet downstairs. Avoiding him seemed to be the best strategy, at least until the awkwardness subsided.
But there was no response on the line.
“Nettie? Hello?” Dammit. She’d already hung up on me.
Evidently, Saint was already on his way.
Could this day get any worse?
***
Fifteen minutes later, the roar of a motorcycle engine cut the silence.
I checked the window once more and saw Saint slide off the bike in one swift motion. Saint swaggered up the walk, a grin on his handsome face. Weird. He didn’t seem upset to see me.
All of a sudden, I felt light-headed, a bit slap-happy. Ugh. Why does he make me feel like an idiot?
“Mornin’,” he drawled, cupping his hands around his mouth to call out to me.
“I’m sorry Nettie bothered you, I didn’t ask her to,” I shouted, so he could hear me.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m always happy to help a damsel in distress.” Saint waved a hand as if rescuing me from an oversized alligator was no big deal.
The term “damsel” didn’t sit well with me. I’ve never been one of those chicks who expected a man to ride to her rescue, but I kept my mouth shut. After all, I was trapped in my house thanks to a real-live monster. And, Saint had literally ridden to my rescue.
“Toss me the broom.”
“You can’t be serious. That thing will eat you for breakfast. Get in here.” I opened the screen door the tiniest crack, but he shook his head.
“Don’t worry, Little Bit. The Kraken’s an old man.” Saint threw a leg over the porch rail and balanced there.
Kraken snapped at him but didn’t make a move toward Saint.
“See? He’s just a little grumpy, not dangerous. Come on, hand me the broom.”
Um, did we just watch the same thing? I don’t think so.
Kraken hissed like a cranky house cat. Or a lethal cobra. Yeah, that last one. With a squeak, I tossed the broom to Saint and slammed the door shut once more.
I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. This was like a train wreck. What if Saint got eaten?
But Saint gently prodded the gator with the brush end, nudging the beast toward the stairs. He didn’t poke the animal, just lightly edged him away.
It actually worked. Slowly, Kraken waddled off the porch and took off across the lawn like the world’s ugliest dog, trotting back to the swamp.
When the gator was out of sight, I sagged against the wall with a sigh. It was a minor miracle. The situation ended without bloodshed.
“Oh my God, you’re like Crocodile Dundee.” I stood in the doorway once more.
He lifted his chin. “Alligator Dundee.”
I laughed. “Right. Where did you learn how to wrangle them?” Saint made it look so easy.
“Practice. Besides, he’s a nice old gator, just leave him be and you got nothin’ to worry about.”
And now Saint and I were left staring at one another. Awkward.
In all the chaos, I’d forgotten to be embarrassed about our last encounter for a moment or two. As if on cue, my cheeks heated again, burning at the memory.
“Um, thanks for coming over. I appreciate it.”
“Anytime, Little Bit.” Saint nodded. “I’m sorry I took off so abruptly last night.”
Did he still see me as the pudgy tween following him around? I thought for sure he’d noticed me at Carrefore. Really noticed me.
“Forget about it. I mean it. Don’t ever mention this again.”
“I was just surprised.” Saint rubbed the back of his neck.
“I get it. Don’t worry. I should’ve told you who I was straight away.” Didn’t Mamie always say lying never paid off in the long run? Even lies of omission come back to bite you in the butt.
“Why didn’t you?” He cocked his head to one side, waiting for my response.
Because I was afraid you wouldn’t be into me if you knew who I really was? I wanted to be a bad girl for one night, and do what I wanted to, instead of what I should do?
I didn’t give him either of these excuses though. Instead, I just shrugged as if that was somehow an answer.
Thankfully, he let it go.
“So, what do I get for rescuin’ you?” Saint asked, arching a brow.
My mouth almost hit the floor. “Excuse me?”
“I think I deserve a reward for bein’ so chivalrous.” His tone was teasing, flirtatious.
Hold up.
So, he’d just been shocked last night? Saint really did find me attractive? I’m so confused.
“Do you now?” I placed my hands on my hips, playing along with this game. “And what sort of prize do you want?”
His lips curved into a sensual smile. “Oh, I know what I want, but I doubt you’ll give it to me.”
I swallowed. Hard. “And what do you want?” The words came out in a whisper.
Saint smirked. “Guess.”
And then I got a hold of myself. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”
“Guessing or givin’ me what I want?”
It felt like a trick question. “Uh, both.”
“Sometimes gettin’ into trouble can be fun.”
Yeah, I have no doubt.
“Can I come in, Chloe?” My name sounded damn good on his lips. I could get used to it.
“Of course.” I stepped back from the threshold and he walked in.
Suddenly, I was in the corner and he stood close, a hand on the wall behind me, blocking me in. Our lips were parted, inches from each other. I felt the heat rolling off his body like I stood in front of an oven.
Neither one of us moved. Or even breathed.
I swayed toward him. Wanting more. Needing more.
But Nettie broke the spell by calling at that exact moment. If I didn’t know better, I could’ve sworn she’d done it deliberately.
I hit a button and sent the call to voicemail. “Um, I should probably go to work. I’m already late.”
“Why don’t I give you a ride?”
So, I could wrap my arms and legs around him again? Yes, please.
“Thank you. I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. What are you doin’ tonight?” Saint asked.
I was too busy contemplating his mouth to answer.
“Chloe?”
“What? Oh, sorry.”
“Have you got any plans tonight?” he asked, again.
“I’m working a double shift. I’ll be off around six.”
“Then I’ll pick you up and take you somewhere nice afterward.”
We were going on a date? He wasn’t just taking me to bed?
Saint chuckled. “Why do you look so confused?”
“Sorry. I just thought you and I…” I drifted off, too embarrassed to finish the sentence.
“Change of plans. You are, uh, different from the kind of girls I usually see.”
I lowered my head. “Oh.”
“No,” Saint said. He placed a fingertip underneath my chin and raised my gaze until it was eye-level with his own. “It means you’re special.”
Saint thought I was special? Once again, I was dazed and confused.
Saint checked his watch. “Hate to cut this short, but I’d better get you to Carrefore before Nettie uses my guts for garters. Come on.”
“So, where are we going tonight?”
“Wait and see.” His smile was cocky. “It’s a surprise.”
***
“Did you invite him in?” Nettie asked.
“Who?” I shook my head to clear my thoughts.
I’d been fixated on Saint since he’d dropped me off and hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything else. Unfortunately, I’d mixed up four orders this morning and dropped a bowl of oatmeal all over the dining room floor, making a goopy mess, which had taken forever to clean up.
“Xavier Richelieu.” The breakfast rush had just finished up and we were wiping down the tables, getting ready for lunch.
“Wait a second. How do you know he came to my place?”
“Viola Jackson saw him on your front porch last night. She told me all about it when I refilled her coffee.” Nettie’s expression was disapproving.
Of course, she did. Since I’m a bright and shiny new object, the locals were talking about me, behind my back.
“Um, yeah, Xav stopped by.” I made a mental note to take him up on his offer, so I’d have the chance to interrogate him about Mamie.
“And did you invite him inside?” Nettie asked, turning to fix me with a stare.
“Yeah. So, what?” What was the big deal?
Nettie crossed herself like I’d just committed blasphemy. “Camille never invited him into her home. She always spoke with him on her front porch.”
Oh, crap. I had a feeling there was a really crazy reason.
I sighed. “Why?”
“He’s a vampire.”
“Riiight. Of course, he is.”
She wagged a finger at me. “Don’t be rollin’ your eyes at me, young lady. This is a serious matter. You’ve invited one of the undead into your home.”
“Xav’s not a vampire.” Not that I had anything against the undead. But I liked my bloodsuckers between the pages of a romance novel. “And I’m sure someone has seen him in the daylight.”
“Yes, but he’s a day-walker.”
“Yeah, okay, sure.” Nettie had an answer for everything.
“Are you mockin’ me?” Nettie asked sharply.
“No, I just don’t share your beliefs.”
Nettie muttered something in French, though I couldn’t make out the words. I had a feeling she was cussing my ass out. She headed over to the kitchen. I thought she’d dropped the subject, but she returned with a bulb of garlic, which she plopped into my limp hand.
“Here, take this with you. It will keep you safe.”
What am I gonna do? Whip him up some gumbo?
I liked local legends and color as much as the next person, but this was insane. As a child, I’d taken it all in, accepted all of the ghost stories as fact. As an adult, I knew better.
And I didn’t have time for this superstitious nonsense.
“I don’t know of a spell to reverse an invitation, but I’ll look for one.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Nettie. Vampires aren’t real.”
“Are you sure about that?” Her face had this tight, pinched look. “Willin’ to bet your pretty little neck on it? And I do mean literally. “
Sure, strange things happened, especially here in Bayou Noir. But come on…?
Xav had been flirtatious and certainly determined, but I hadn’t detected any hint of aggression. Although, his eyes had been strangely magnetic…
Stop it. Don’t get sucked into this mass delusion.
“Look, he’s not a vampire, but I think he might have something to do with Mamie’s death.”
“Why do you think so?” Nettie went back to cleaning up, turning her back on me.
I rounded the table, so she had to meet my eyes. “Because he wants our land.”
She straightened up. “Richelieu made you an offer?”
“Yeah, but when I didn’t go for it, he asked me on a date.”
Her brows backed up into her hairline. “And what did you say?”
“I didn’t agree to go out with him.” Although, I hadn’t turned him down either.
She seized my hand. “Promise me, you won’t be alone with him again.”
“Nettie, I—”
“Promise?” Her nails dug into my palm.
“I promise.”
Her shoulders fell in relief. “Good. Stay away from him, chère.”
I swiftly changed the subject. “So, Saint’s taking me out tonight.”
“Mon Dieu.” She threw her hands in the air, as if giving up on me. “This will only end in tears. For you. Not him.”
“I can’t worry about the future right now.” I grinned, despite myself, anticipating what tonight might hold.
She shook a finger at me. “À chaque fou plaît sa marotte.”
Oh, yes, this fool was definitely pleased by her own idiocy.
***
“How can I help you?”
“I need to see the sheriff.”
I’d been putting this meeting off for weeks. On my lunch break, I decided to just get it over with, so it wouldn’t be hanging over my head anymore. Tonight, I wanted to enjoy myself, let go a little.
Bayou Noir had a tiny little police department. They split the building with the local library and the senior center. That’s how little crime there was in the area.
Before Mamie’s murder, there hadn’t been one for almost thirty years.
“Do you have an appointment?” the deputy asked. He sat behind a desk, staring at the computer screen, instead of making eye contact. According to his name badge, he was Officer LeRoy.
I sighed. “No.” In retrospect, I should’ve made one.
He glanced up. “Miss, the sheriff's very busy.”
Like I came by to complain about a pothole or something?
“I need to talk about my grandmother’s case.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, she was murdered a few weeks ago.” My tone was sharp.
Instantly, his features softened. “You must be Chloe Valois.”
“Yes.” I hated to see the pity in his eyes.
“Hold on a second.” He typed something and squinted at the screen. “Accordin’ to the schedule, Sherriff Daniels has about twenty minutes before his meetin’ with the mayor. Maybe he can squeeze you in.”
“Thank you. This shouldn’t take long.”
Officer LeRoy picked up the phone, conveyed the information, presumably to the sheriff, and then led me down a hallway with cracked linoleum flooring until I stood in front of an office with large windows, covered by dusty shutters which were pulled down tight.
Evidently, the sheriff liked his privacy.
After knocking, Officer LeRoy opened the door, ushered me inside. And then he disappeared down the hallway.
The sheriff stood and offered me a hand. “Miss Chloe, nice to see you again.”
Sheriff Daniels was in his late forties with salt and pepper hair. His uniform was neatly pressed. On the coat rack behind him, there was a Stetson hat, which matched the cowboy boots he was wearing.
We’d met briefly just before Mamie’s funeral. He’d also been the one who called and gave me the news. The sheriff was probably a decent person, but part of me hated him. I associated the man with Mamie’s death and I always would.
“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”
I sat down in a burnt orange Naugahyde chair in front of his desk. It made a squeaking noise when I shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position, only there wasn’t one. Judging by the shabby décor, this place hadn’t been renovated since the 70s.
“I’ve been meanin’ to speak with you, so I’m glad you came by.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, we’ve been workin’ this case for over a month, but we can’t figure out why Camille was out there, in the woods, all alone in the middle of the night.”
“I don’t have a clue either.” It had been bothering me, too.
Mamie got up at dawn and she went to bed around nine or so. The coroner had placed her time of death around three in the morning. She should’ve been in her bed, fast asleep. Mamie foraged for plants and herbs in the woods, but she did it during the daylight hours.
“Damn. I was hopin’ you could shed some light on it.”
“Sorry.”
He shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. For your loss. And for not findin’ her killer yet.”
I offered a weak smile. The platitude was the right thing to say, but somehow it felt empty.
“I knew Camille. Personally. I went to see her a few years ago.”
“Oh?” Sheriff Daniels hadn’t hinted at a personal connection with Mamie the last time we spoke. Since this was a small town, everyone knew each other on sight, but it didn’t mean we were all friends. “Why?”
“She made a lavender ointment. My youngest daughter had terrible diaper rash, and nothing worked on it, except for Camille’s cream.”
I smiled. I didn’t know she was selling her salves and ointments to the community.
“She was a decent, hard-working woman and I hate to see kind people end up this way.”
“I agree. Someone her age should’ve lived a long life.”
My mom had died a violent death, too. Dying in childbirth wasn’t as horrific as being murdered, but it wasn’t an easy, painless way to go either. I wanted to die years from now, in my own bed.
He glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but I’m pressed for time. What can I do for you?”
Right. Back to business. I didn’t want to be here any longer than I had to, anyway.
“Then I’ll get straight to the point. I need to see my grandmother’s case file.”
The corners of his mustached mouth turned down. “Trust me. You don’t want to look at it.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. “Yes, I do.” I’m sure the contents would be painful, but I needed all the details before I began my own investigation.
The sheriff narrowed his gaze suspiciously. “Why do you want it?”
“I have the right to see all the information.” I didn’t owe him an explanation. It was none of his damn business why I wanted my grandmother’s case file.
“Yes, but why?”
“I’m curious.”
His jaw tightened. “Are you going to play junior detective? You think I'm not doin’ my job?”
Actually, I didn’t think he was capable of solving this case. The police department wasn’t used to dealing with murders. Neither was I, but I had a personal stake in finding the truth and I wouldn’t stop until I got it. As far as I’m concerned, my tenacity gave me a leg up on him.
My instinct was to fire back, let all the bottled-up frustration and hostility out, but I resisted the impulse. Instead, I took a couple of deep, calming breaths.
“It isn't about you at all. I want answers.” My tone was even.
“Well, if you want the info you can file a request.” He handed me a clipboard with a lengthy form. “It takes thirty days to process.”
“Are you serious? You have the file right there.” I pointed to the rusty old filing cabinet across the room. The first drawer was labeled “open cases” for pity’s sake.
He grunted in response. “You still have to follow the procedure.”
“So, this isn’t personal? You aren’t trying to discourage me with roadblocks?”
“I don’t think you fully understand what you’re askin’ me for.” He jabbed a finger at the filing cabinet. “There are crime scene photos in there. You don't want to see your grandmother like that.”
But I already knew all the details from both the sheriff and the coroner. And I remembered every single second of the conversation. Her throat had been slit, her nails were jagged and broken as if she’d been trying to claw at her attacker. Her body had been covered in welts and bruises.
Although, seeing the evidence in front of me would be another thing entirely. Nettie had identified her body, so I hadn’t even seen her. Instead, I’d been presented with an urn. I wished I’d been able to see her face one last time.
“No, I don't, sheriff, but I don't really have much choice.”
“Want some advice?”
No, not really because I’d made up my mind weeks ago. But I nodded anyway.
“Do yourself a favor and drop this. Leave your grandmother’s case to the professionals.”
Why did everyone keep telling me to butt out? My instinct was to dig deeper and find out what really happened to her.
One way or another, I’d discover the truth for myself.
And no one was going to stop me.