Bayou Justice. Robin Caroll
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against the wood, CoCo held her breath and listened.
She recognized the mumbled words. An incantation of a gris-gris. Icy fingers tickled down her spine.
Jerking the door open, CoCo glared at her sister.
Tara sat cross-legged in the middle of her bed, a voodoo doll held in one hand, red paint dripping from a brush in the other. The doll already had two streaks across its body.
“What’re you doing?” CoCo placed her hands on her hips.
Her sister didn’t even bother to try to hide her actions. Instead, she lifted her chin and met CoCo’s stare. “What you’re too scared to do.”
CoCo inhaled through her nose, biting back the acidic retort stinging her tongue. “Tara, I’ve told you not to do this.” “I’ve told you—I’m twenty-four years old and you can’t tell me what to do anymore.” She tossed her long hair over her shoulder. Being outside in the summer had lightened it with streaks from the sun. “Besides, you’re just mad because Grandmere pays attention to me now.”
Guilt at Tara’s even being exposed to voodoo nearly strangled her. “That’s not it at all. You know better. She’s only teaching you because I refused to learn anymore.”
“You’re just jealous.” Tara’s words might have sounded angry, but CoCo detected the hurt behind them.
“Oh, Tara.” She sat on the foot of the bed, her fingers absentmindedly tugging at loose threads in the pink coverlet. “I stopped learning because I know it’s wrong.”
“Because the god you found told you it’s a sin.” Tara leapt off her bed and set the doll and brush on the oak desk. “Goody for you, but you aren’t going to take this away from me. I won’t let you.”
CoCo fought to get her legs to support her. “I’m not trying to take anything away from you. I’m trying to save you.”
Tara let out a harsh laugh. “Save me? That’s rich.” She narrowed her eyes and waved her hands. “Just go. Get out of my room and let me take care of things.”
“I’ve got it under control.” CoCo gestured toward the doll. “You don’t need to do this.”
“Yeah, hiring an attorney gets it all under control. Who’re you trying to fool? Old man Trahan has all the lawyers in these parts in his hand.”
Her words stung CoCo, just as if she’d been slapped across the face.
Maybe she should have called Alyssa. At the very least they could provide a unified front. Their stance against voodoo was about the only thing CoCo and Alyssa agreed on.
Dear God, show me how to reach Tara. Call her to You as You called me.
“Go, CoCo. Go play with your alligators.”
“It doesn’t have to be like this.” If she could just help Tara see…
Tara shook her head and held up her hand. “I said get out of my room.”
When had Tara grown to be so rebellious and bitter? Had she failed her sister when their parents died?
“I said, go!” Tara slapped the blue doorframe hard. A framed photo of their parents dropped to the floor. Tara’s eyes widened. “The picture fell off the wall. That means someone will die, CoCo.”
“That’s just superstition.”
“Go!”
Without another word, CoCo turned and strode from the room and then down the stairs. She needed to get on the bayou, to be alone, to find peace. Her steps were quick as she made her way to her airboat. She untied the rope from the live oak stump.
A vehicle rattled down the gravel driveway.
CoCo turned, her heart and stomach switching places.
Luc Trahan skidded to a stop. What was he doing here? Through the windshield, his gaze met hers. Her betraying heart leapt.
She tossed down the rope and marched toward the truck. Luc got out, smiling as if he hadn’t crushed her heart and dreams. “What are you doing here?”
“I just wanted to let you know Grandfather’s acting on his own with this eviction thing.”
He looked good—too good. She stiffened her spine. “Doesn’t matter. I’ve already retained an attorney to fight him.”
“Look, I think we—”
CoCo held up her hand. “There is no we anymore. You made sure of that, Luc.” She crossed her arms over her chest to hide her trembling. “I think you’d better leave.”
“But…”
“No anything. Just go. I want you to leave. Now.” Please, please just leave. She couldn’t allow him inside her heart again. It’d taken her too long to regain her emotional footing.
He moved toward her, closing the distance between them comfortably.
She backed up a step. “I said to go, Luc.” Her heart thundered. “Please.” She hated herself for pleading, but knew the tears would come soon. She refused to give him the satisfaction.
As if he could hear her thoughts, he nodded, got into his truck and slammed the door.
Dirt filled the air as he sped off. It took her a moment to regulate her breathing. Her emotions betrayed her. CoCo narrowed her eyes toward the road, even though his truck had long moved out of view.
You won’t keel me over again with a warm smile, Luc Trahan. Not ever again.
THREE
Why, God? What more do You want from me? Haven’t I paid enough? Lost enough? Repented enough?
How had she failed so badly? Tara, her baby sister, already graduated to cunjas and using voodoo dolls. CoCo shook her head in the darkness.
With Alyssa gone, the responsibility of looking after her baby sister fell directly on CoCo’s shoulders. The weight often felt crushing. Hadn’t she endured a bad enough day without having to deal with Tara’s involvement in their grandmother’s old ways? Why didn’t they listen?
CoCo’s stomach roiled. Grandmere wouldn’t even bother teaching Tara if CoCo hadn’t stopped her training. She sighed. Being a Christian sure didn’t make life any easier—if anything, she’d had more heartache and grief.
And Luc showing up out of nowhere. Calling him had been a mistake, a big one. When the chips were down, why had she gone on auto-pilot and called in her knight in shining armor? She let out a breath with a gust. Some knight he’d turned out to be.
The only reply to her prayers was the tree frogs croaking, blending with the chirping of the crickets, filling the evening with the bayou’s own unique song.
CoCo turned off her running lights, killed the engine of her airboat and let it drift. The soft lapping of water against the boat lulled away her frustration. She drew in a deep breath, sucking in the calming scents of the bayou—sweet onion flowers and muskiness. This was her habitat, where she felt most comfortable. It would be over her dead body before she left her home. No matter what deed Beau Trahan possessed.
A bump against the airboat sent it rocking. CoCo flipped on her spotlight and shone the beam into the water. A young alligator, maybe five feet long at most, nudged with his nose again. CoCo laughed. A little bull testing his dominance. She reached for her tagging tool.
Loud thrashing sounded to her left. Pinpricks of dread skittered against the back of CoCo’s neck. She recognized the sound—water currents caused by an alligator having something in its death roll.
She jerked the light in the direction of the sound. Illumination reflected off the water, casting shadows into the weeping willow trees. There, a little farther to the left. CoCo shifted the light to the movement.
A flash of fabric.