A Darker Shade of Midnight by Lynn Emery Read Free Book Online Page A

his thoughts, that Sheriff Triche had lost his edge and the sharp instincts that had served him well.
    “You’re wrong about him, the sheriff I mean,” LaShaun said quietly.
    Broussard’s gaze narrowed like the laser on a Glock pistol. “Don’t try your magic tricks on me.”
    “Relax, Deputy Broussard. I’m not trying to put a spell on you.”  
    “Yeah, I’ll try to remember that,” he replied in a bland tone. He took sunglasses from his shirt pocket and put them on.
    LaShaun became irritated with herself for even having this discussion with him. She kept her temper in check, barely. “Think what you want. You through here or you intend to search me for weapons?”  
    Deputy Broussard looked at her for a few seconds. “Is that an offer, ma’am?”
    LaShaun studied him as the minutes ticked by, and the temperature between them rose.   She then turned away and walked toward the porch. “Goodbye, Deputy.”
    “She didn’t start any of this trouble, Deputy Broussard,” Monmon Odette called out. She was now sitting in a rocker on the porch.  
    “Yes, ma’am.” Deputy Broussard nodded to Monmon Odette respectfully. He looked at LaShaun. “I’ll see you around.”
    “Humph.” LaShaun stood next to her grandmother.
    She wanted to think of a reply with more pepper in it, but those dark Cajun eyes along with the silken soft burr of his accent threw her. His voice sounded like a pleasant promise instead of a warning from the law. Deputy Broussard’s lean, muscular frame folded into the cruiser with ease. He spoke into the radio handset for several minutes before he drove off.
    “Don’t think this is over. Not even close,” Azalei shouted. She marched to her cherry red mustang and drove off.
    Rita and Devin Martin stood together speaking softly. After a few seconds, both glanced at LaShaun. Martin left first, backing his BMW down the driveway after another car behind him left.
    “You may have this round, but I’m not done with you yet,” Rita said to LaShaun.
    “Stop listening to Aunt Leah and Azalei, Rita. They’re poison times two. There’s no need for us fight.”
    “Guess again,” Rita snapped cutting her off. “That old woman always favored you over me. I got what was left once she showered you with the best. I’m not taking seconds anymore.”  
    “So that’s how it is, huh?”   LaShaun squinted at her.  
    “Yeah, that’s how it is. Don’t underestimate me.” Rita gave LaShaun a heated head to toe glare then strode to her car.
    “Hell.” LaShaun took several deep breaths to calm her nerves. She went back to the long gallery where Monmon Odette sat gently moving a cane rocking chair back and forth.
    “Still glad you came back, Cher?” Monmon Odette cocked an eyebrow at her.
    LaShaun turned to watch Rita’s Honda Accord disappearing around the curve of the long driveway. “Home sweet home.”

 
    Chapter 5
     
     
    The next day LaShaun went into town. Three blocks into her walk down Main Street and LaShaun had an overwhelming urge to slap somebody. The stares and whispers bothered her more than she thought they would. She’d forgotten the relentless memory of small town folks. In Los Angeles she’d been just one of millions, another transplant chasing California gold in one variety or another. What LaShaun had found was a way to be herself without the claustrophobic definitions of her family’s past or the judgment of others. She had changed, but Beau Chene was the same. The downtown looked like a typical tourist area in rural Louisiana. Quaint antique shops and restaurants featuring Creole cuisine made up most of the small business district. Savannah stood in the door to her father’s curio and souvenir shop, arms crossed in a defensive posture.  
    A feud between the St. Julien and Rousselle families that crossed four generations at least was another legend in the parish. After so many years, the teenage romance between Antoine St. Julien and LaShaun’s mother