Under the Cajun Moon (21 page)

I remember walking down the steps and out of the courtyard with his arm around me, firmly holding me up at the waist. His hold was strong and warm and I lost myself in it. Somehow foot stepped ahead of foot, over and over, until eventually we were inside the truck.

I closed my eyes to the assault of headlights and car sounds and jazz music blaring from somewhere nearby. Leaning against the cold vinyl of the door, I went to sleep, an odd thing for a normal person to do, considering the situation. But I wasn’t normal anymore. I had had my moment, the one that changed everything, irrevocably forever.

I don’t know how long I slept.

When I awoke, it was to realize that I was being carried. At first I thought I was floating magically through the air, but then I realized that an arm was around my back and another under my knees and that the side of my face was pressed against the broad, muscular expanse of a man’s chest. Somewhere in the deep recesses of my brain, I wondered if I was being kidnapped, if I was going to be tortured now. I was still wondering that as I fell asleep again.

The next time I awoke, there were voices nearby, and I had a feeling they were talking about me. I tried to tell them I was awake, but before I could even do that, I had fallen asleep again.

The next time I woke up, it was morning. I didn’t know where I was, but I didn’t have the energy to try to figure it out. Echoes of a different morning, one that had come before, bounced around in my brain: ringing phone, pounding door, dead man on the couch. This time, at least no phone rang. No one came and carted me off to jail. No one seemed to be here at all.

I dozed for a while, waking now and then, and each time I did I felt a little more back to earth, a little more me again. At one point I wondered if I had had a nervous breakdown. Then I wondered if that term was even used anymore. Whatever it was, I knew that I had stood at the edge of an abyss—and, for a while at least, I had fallen in. Years ago, a girl from school maintained in debate that there was a bit of madness in all of us. I didn’t believe her then.

I believed her now.

My final awakening was markedly different than the ones that had come before. This time, when I came to consciousness, I simply knew certain things again. I knew that Travis and I had gone into Sam’s apartment and found him dead. I didn’t know where I was now, but I knew who I was, and that was more important anyway.

Sitting up in the bed, I looked around, wondering how many more times I would have to awaken in strange places with no real knowledge of where I was and how I had come there. The room I was in was small and rustic. The only furniture was the single bed I had been sleeping on and a small wooden bedside table holding a lamp, a cup of water, and a Bible. The sheets were crisp and white, and with a jolt I realized I wasn’t in my clothes anymore. I was in a light cotton nightgown, with buttons down the front and sleeves gathered at the wrists. Someone had changed my clothes.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and carefully attempted to stand. The room had one window and I walked to it now, my feet cold against the polished wood floor. At the window, I first peered through the sheer white curtains to see what looked like woods and trees outside. There didn’t seem to be any people out there, so I reached up and pulled aside the sheers for a better view.

From what I could tell, I was in a cabin in the woods, though it wasn’t completely isolated because I could make out other rooflines among the trees. In the distance was the telltale sparkle of a body of water.

Needing to use the restroom, I opened one of the doors, only to find myself looking into an empty closet. Closing that one, I crossed the room to the other door and swung it open. That led to a second room, one that was furnished as simply as the first, with a table and chair under the
front window and the second, more cushioned chair in the corner next to another small table with only a lamp and a Bible. Besides a door that obviously led to the outside, there was one other door which I hoped was the bathroom and not another closet.

I was about to open it and look when the door swung open and a woman stepped out, causing us both to jump. Before I could react any further, her face lit up in a smile.

“You’re awake,” she said in a drawl so soft and melodic it was almost like a song. “How are you feeling, honey?”

She looked to be in her forties, with sparkling green eyes and graying hair pulled into a soft braid on the back of her head.

“Okay, I think.”

“Do you know what day this is?”

“It should be Wednesday,” I said, clearing my scratchy throat. “Is it?”

“Yes. You’ve been here since last night.”

“Where am I?”

“I’ll let Travis explain that. Let me go get him.”

Travis. So at least I hadn’t been kidnapped.

“Can you point me to a restroom?”

The woman gestured to the door she had just come out of, saying she had been putting a change of clothes, a towel, and some toiletries in there for me.

“Why don’t you shower and dress, and I’ll get you some breakfast and find Travis. He’s been very worried about you. He’ll want to know you’re all right.”

I hesitated, afraid to ask the question that was burning to come out. Finally, I knew I had no choice.

“This isn’t…this isn’t a mental hospital, is it?”

The woman smiled, a melodic chuckle escaping her lips.

“No, dear. It’s a retreat center. Though sometimes in the summer when the junior campers come, I’m tempted to seek out a mental hospital for myself.”

With great relief I thanked her and went into the bathroom as she headed out the front door.

The shower helped bring me further to life. Standing under the faucet, I let the hot water pound my back and shoulders, working off some of the tension, though washing away none of the grief. When I was finished, I pulled on a pair of jeans that were about the size of the woman I had just met and had to be belted at the waist. Given that they were about six inches too short, I simply rolled up the cuffs and turned them into capris. The shirt was a simple cotton button-down in a blue-and-green plaid. Black flip-flops that fit my feet well enough completed the outfit. Using the handful of toiletries there, I was able to brush my teeth, comb out my hair, and dab a little Vaseline on my lips. There was no other makeup, nor were there any hair products or tools, so I simply stepped back to get a look at myself in the mirror, knowing this was the best it was going to get.

Studying my image, I was grateful for my naturally rosy lips and dark eyelashes that helped pull off my lack of makeup. Although I always wore my long hair straightened and sleek, already it was starting to dry into soft waves. Oh, well. In a way, it was a relief having no choice but to forgo my usual morning routine and just be who I was.

After emerging from the bathroom, I opened the door and stepped outside. It was a beautiful day, with birds chirping and somewhere in the distance church bells ringing. Counting the dings, I discovered it was 11:00 a.m. I thought I could hear voices, so I walked around the side of the little cabin to find Travis and another man sitting at a table in the shade. Both of them stood when they saw me, a Southern gesture of good manners that I always appreciated. The man sat back down, but Travis came over to me and surprised me by giving me a big hug and asking me if I was okay.

“You could probably answer that better than I could. I don’t remember much, just the parts I wish I didn’t remember.”

Travis nodded and solemnly led me to the table, introducing me to the man as a friend and inviting me to sit. A covered plate was waiting there, and when I removed the lid it was to see scrambled eggs, bacon, and a fruit cup. I wasn’t very hungry, but I didn’t want to be rude, so I took a bite of the bacon, picked at the eggs, and focused on the mixed fruit. As I sat there eating, I could tell both men were sort of sizing me up, trying to
figure out if I was stable enough now for normal, intelligent conversation. Finally, I put down my fork, looked from one to the other, and told them I wasn’t nuts, I wasn’t out of my head, and I wasn’t made of glass so they needn’t be afraid I might break.

Both men laughed and visibly relaxed. I wasn’t sure how much to say in front of the man, but he didn’t seem to be going anywhere and there was a lot I wanted to know. I decided to follow Travis’ lead, and right now they weren’t talking about anything more important than a boat engine.

“You folks have a lot of talking to do, I’m sure,” the man said finally, rising from the table. “Before I go, may I pray for you, Chloe?”

I looked up, a little startled. Though I didn’t feel like praying, it seemed rude to refuse. I nodded, and I was surprised again when the man placed a hand on the top of my head before closing his eyes and speaking to God on my behalf.

He started his prayer by asking for healing and hope at this time of despair, as well as guidance, wisdom, and truth. He continued on from there, but my mind hung onto that one word: truth.
Yes, God, if You are listening, please help me find the truth.

The man’s hand stayed on my head through the whole prayer, and though it was a weird sensation, it felt good somehow, as if a deep warmth was running through his hand into me. Once he reached his “amen,” he gave me a final pat and took his hand away, offering to return my plate to the kitchen. I thanked him, and after he was gone, I turned and looked at Travis, suddenly feeling very shy. We had been through a lot together since first seeing each other yesterday afternoon, yet in most ways we hardly knew each other at all.

“Ordinarily,” I said, “I would make some stupid joke about now, something to help make light of the vulnerable and embarrassing position I find myself in. But not one witty comment springs to mind.”

Before he replied, Travis reached out and placed a wide, warm hand on top of mine.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,
cher
. I tend to make jokes at times like these too. But who are we kidding? There aren’t times like this. There’s never been a time like this, not in my experience. I’ve never seen anything
like that, and I only knew Sam as a friend. I didn’t love him like you did. I didn’t think of him as a second father.”

“Travis—”

“No, just let me say this. Please don’t be embarrassed, and please don’t feel vulnerable. We may not know each other very well, Chloe, but our families go way back. Despite whatever rift has divided your father and my grandfather, I think they would both be glad to know that in this horrible time at least we have each other.”

I appreciated Travis’ sentiments, and I decided he was right about not being embarrassed. Maybe I had gone off the deep end, but I was suddenly grateful that he had been the one who was there when it happened. I told him so now. With a sweet smile, Travis squeezed my hand and then let go, and as he pulled his away, I found myself wishing he wouldn’t. Meeting his eyes, I couldn’t help thinking how handsome he looked. Gone was the baseball cap he’d been wearing last night, and his freshly shampooed hair looked far less shaggy without it. In fact, I decided, I really liked the length of his cut and thought it suited him well.

“So where are we, Travis, and what are doing here? Are we in hiding?”

He replied that we weren’t here so much to hide as to regroup.

“By regroup, do you mean verify my sanity? I think I’m okay now.”

“Good, because we have a lot to do.”

I looked out at the water through the trees. I had thought it was a lake, but from this vantage point I realized it was a river. A lazy, beautiful, slow-moving river.

“Please tell me what happened. I don’t remember much beyond walking into Sam’s apartment and seeing him there.”

According to Travis, my first instinct had been to run toward the body. To keep me from doing so, he had been forced to physically restrain me. There was no question that Sam was dead, he said, so there was nothing we could do to help. Travis explained that he had asked me several times if I thought we should call the police or simply leave and let someone else be the one to find the scene and call it in. Considering that I had already been framed for one murder, his inclination was that we should go.

“But I know you, Chloe. I know that you like to play by the rules. That’s why I kept asking. When you wouldn’t answer me, I realized that you were overcome with shock, so I had to make a decision for us. You were moaning a little, but otherwise you were pretty docile. With my arms around you, I was able to get you all the way back to the truck, but then once we got inside you really scared me by just laying your head down and going to sleep. Even when you were awake, it was like you weren’t there. I wasn’t sure what to do.”

“So you brought us here, to a retreat center?”

“I knew it wasn’t open for the season yet and would be pretty deserted. The owners are good people, old youth directors of mine. I jus’ told them that a friend and I had run into a little trouble and needed a place to come where we could get some rest and figure out what to do next, but that they had to keep this to themselves. They said come on down. By the time we got here, they had made up one of the cabins for you and set up the sofa bed in the house for me. God bless ’em, they haven’t asked me for any details about what’s going on.”

“I assume you weren’t the one who changed me into a nightgown?”

His face colored, and I was surprised how easily my words had made him blush.

“No,
cher
, that was not I.”

I took a deep breath, looking around at the beautiful terrain that surrounded me, the oak trees dripping with Spanish moss, the birds twittering in the trees, the water sparkling in the distance. Truly, I would have loved nothing more than to stay here and soak it in for days. But there was much to be done, many questions still to be answered.

“Has the…body…been discovered yet?”

“Not that I know of. I entered some media alerts on my phone, so if any relevant news stories come out—anything at all that contains words like Sam, Samuel, Underwood, Ledet’s, or Chloe—I’ll know about it. I’ve received a couple of texts, but they were all false alarms.”