Chapter 3
The next morning, Xavier entered the boat factory, having slept very little the night before, wondering whether Lissette had made it home to her grandmother’s house on an island in the bayou.
Every time he closed his eyes, her image appeared in his head, with her long, straight black hair, disheveled after her fight with the guys who’d tried to kidnap her, hanging down around her shoulders.
He still wanted to go to the sheriff to report the men and their van. He didn’t know why he’d agreed not to.
The panicked look in her dark eyes and the way her brow had furrowed when he’d mentioned the sheriff had been enough to make him promise to keep the incident to himself the previous night.
In the light of day, he was second-guessing that promise. Would mentioning what had happened to his teammates break that promise? Maybe they could poke around to find out who those men were and why they’d tried to take Lissette.
Anton Noel and Jacques Jardien swapped gossip as they polished the hull of an aluminum jon boat.
“I heard Mitch Marceau was up on the marina roof yester and fell off a ladder. Broke his arm and gave him a concussion,” Jacques said.
“That’s too bad. What with the weatherman predicting that hurricane out in the gulf coming our way.
He’ll have a tough time battening down the hatches.
” Anton straightened, his rag in hand. “Speaking of bad luck, do you remember that old lady whose pink metal flamingo disappeared from her flower garden on Second Street last month?”
Jacques nodded. “She had the sheriff and all his deputies comb Bayou Mambaloa for an entire day, claiming it was her husband’s last gift to her before he died, and she wouldn’t rest until it was returned.”
“Didn’t Remy buy a new one and stick it in her garden in the middle of the night so Shelby and the rest of the sheriff’s department wouldn’t have to spend any more time looking for it?” Xavier asked as he approached the two men.
“He did,” Anton said.
“Why do you bring her up?” Jacques asked.
“She had a massive tree limb fall on her porch last night. Tore the entire porch off.” Anton’s lips twitched. “Damned if it didn’t touch the pink flamingo in her front garden.”
“Unlucky? Or lucky?” Jacques questioned. “With a hurricane coming in, maybe she’s lucky it happened before we get hit with the storm.”
“Either way, I’d say it’s unlucky,” Xavier said. “The porch has to be replaced, and I’ll bet she doesn’t have that kind of money to have it done.”
Anton shook his head, his lips twitching on the corners. “I bet she claims that the fact the flamingo remained untouched is a sign from her dead husband that he was looking out for her.”
“I wouldn’t disavow her of that opinion, if it makes her happy,” Jacques said. “Remy said J.D. LaDue’s skiff sank at the marina overnight.”
“He’s been riding around in that old thing for the past couple years, bailing water,” Anton shook his head. “I told him to bring it by, and we’d patch it for him.”
“Maybe he’ll finally take us up on that offer,” Jacques said, “whenever he dredges it up from the bottom of the bayou.”
“When I was at Mimi’s Diner for breakfast,” Anton said, “I heard that quite a few people have experienced similar bad luck over the past few weeks. Mimi had a fire in her kitchen; a three-hundred-year-old plaque from someone’s family tomb went missing; the tow-truck driver’s transmission dropped on the highway to New Orleans; and a man who found wasps in the wall of his house was attacked by them and spent the night in the hospital. ”
“Speaking of bad luck,” Xavier said. “I drove by the Crawdad Hole this morning. Danny French was in the parking lot, pulling a ladder out of a truck. I stopped to ask if she needed help. She said the old bell that had hung behind the bar forever fell last night and nearly hit her.”
“The one they ring when someone says something stupid?” Anton asked.
Xavier nodded. “Yes, that one.”
Jacques laughed. “Rafael made the mistake of telling Danny there’s no such thing as magic. That rang the bell that night. That night made him more of a believer after he had to buy everyone in the entire place a round of drinks.”
Anton held up a hand as if taking a pledge. “Ever since that night, I’ve kept my mouth shut about magic at the Crawdad Hole. Those people are serious about their juju.”
“What?” Xavier said. “Don’t you believe in magic?”
Anton cocked an eyebrow in challenge. “Do you?”
Xavier shrugged. “I’ll keep my options open. Either way, I helped Danny carry the ladder and held the bell against the wall while she anchored it with heavy-duty bolts.”
“They’re just lucky it didn’t hit anyone seated at the bar,” Jacques said. “That thing looks heavy. It could crack a man’s skull.”
“And it just fell?” Anton shook his head. “It wasn’t knocked over in a barroom brawl or because someone bumped into it?”
“No. Danny said it just fell.” Xavier’s brow creased as he thought of Rene DeRoche, the bartender, the only one standing behind the bar at the time the bell fell. “If DeRoche hadn’t moved a second before, it would have clipped his head. As it was, it landed in a case of expensive whiskey.”
“That’s crazy. Makes you wonder why everyone’s luck has gone to hell all at once,” Jacques said. “That’s a lot of bad luck in a town as small as Bayou Mambaloa.”
“Yeah, it is.” Anton frowned. “Too much.” He turned to Xavier. “Hey, can you give us a hand with this hull? We need to set it on those sawhorses so we can work on the other side.”
Xavier moved in to help them raise the boat hull. When they had it where they wanted it, they stepped back.
Anton nodded toward Xavier’s hands. “What happened to you? Get into a fight?”
Xavier glanced down at his bruised knuckles, then shrugged. “Had a run-in with a couple of guys last night after I left the Crawdad Hole.”
“No kidding?” Anton said, his brow furrowing. “Why didn’t you call us for backup?”
“I handled it,” he said.
“Where did this happen?” Jacques stepped closer, his fists clenching. “Did they jump you at the boarding house?”
Cornered and unwilling to lie, Xavier shook his head. “It happened on Main Street, and they didn’t actually jump me.”
“They didn’t jump you?” Anton’s frown deepened. “Did they pick a fight?”
“Two against one isn’t fair odds,” Jacques said.
“They didn’t pick a fight.” Xavier saw no other way to avoid the truth. “They were accosting a woman.”
“Seriously?” Anton raised his fists. “Sons of a bitch. I hope you tore the bastards some new assholes.”
Jacques pointed to Xavier’s bruised knuckles. “I take it you landed a few good hits.”
“I did.”
“And the woman?” Anton met Xavier’s gaze. “She’s all right?”
“She is,” Xavier said.
“Did you report it to the sheriff?” Remy asked, coming out of his office. “I’m surprised Shelby didn’t say anything about it. She would’ve heard.”
Xavier shook his head. “The men got away, and the woman didn’t want to report it.”
“Who was she?” Remy asked.
Xavier braced himself before responding, knowing Remy wouldn’t like the answer. “Lissette Gautier.”
Remy stiffened.
Jacques’s eyes widened. “Isn’t that the woman who tried to...”
“Yeah,” Remy said, his expression tight and grim. “Xander. My office. Now.”
Shit.
A knot twisted in the pit of Xavier’s belly. “Yes, sir.” He couldn’t blame Remy’s reaction or anger, nor did he argue about walking past his teammates as he followed his soon-to-be ex-boss into the office.
Once Xavier closed the door behind him, he turned to face Remy. “I know what you’re going to say...”
“Then give me the opportunity to say it,” Remy said, steel in his voice.
“Lissette Gautier is an ex-con. She served time in prison for attempted murder and got off lightly on a plea bargain.” He walked behind his desk, planted his fists on the wooden surface and leaned toward Xavier.
“That woman rammed Shelby’s boat and left her to die in the bayou.
That was her first attempt to kill my wife.
She tried again and almost succeeded in killing Shelby and me.
So, she did time. It was only a year. Someone like Lissette doesn’t change her colors in a year or ever. ”
Xavier held his tongue. Nothing he could say would convince Remy that Lissette had changed. Hell, Xavier hadn’t known her well enough before she’d spent time in jail and certainly didn’t know her now. He kept his mouth shut and let Remy finish.
“Look, Xander, you’re gone in a week. Do not waste your time on Lissette Gautier.” His gaze drilled into Xavier’s. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” Xavier resisted the temptation to pop a salute.
“Dismissed,” Remy said and frowned when he realized he’d given Xavier a military release. “I mean, you can go.”
Xavier performed an excellent about-face and marched out of the office, closing the door with a loud click.
For the first time since he’d known Remy, he chafed at the command his boss had given.
Stay away from Lissette?
He knew he should.
The woman had told him herself that she was trouble.
Then why did he find himself driving toward Main Street and the little shop called Remedies and Roux, in blatant defiance of the boss’s order?
Twice, he’d rescued her in the last few days. That didn’t mean he was obliged to keep doing so.
He told himself he only wanted to make sure she was at work that morning, as proof that she’d made it home the night before and back.
He parked in front of the little store next to the Mamba Wambo gift shop, which Gisele, Rafael’s wife, owned and operated.
As he stepped down from his truck, a woman emerged from the Remedies and Roux shop, a scowl denting her forehead.
“No, I’ll come back when Madame Gautier is here.
I want nothing to do with an ex-con. You tell your grandmother I’ll only do business with her, not with you. ”
Lissette’s voice came from inside the shop. “She might not come into the shop for days. I can help you now.”