Rebel Without a Cake (24 page)

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Authors: Jacklyn Brady

BOOK: Rebel Without a Cake
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Miss Frankie stood and smoothed the legs of her pants. “I'm sorry you don't want to believe me. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm tired and I'm going to bed.”

I dropped into my chair as soon as she went inside.

“You're so wrong about her,” Bernice said from the shadows.

I'd forgotten she was still sitting there. The sound of her voice made me jump. “Excuse me?”

Bernice got up and came to stand in front of me. “You're wrong about her. She loves you deeply.”

I desperately wanted to believe her, but the old doubts were just too strong. I thought I should say something, but the words wouldn't come.

“If she didn't love you,” Bernice went on, “she could have fought you for everything you inherited when Philippe died, and she would have won. You were in the process of divorcing him. Any court would have taken one look at those divorce papers and handed everything to Frances Mae.” She sat in the chair Miss Frankie had vacated and put a gentle hand on my arm. “She didn't fight you, Rita. In fact, she went to great lengths to make sure you stayed in her life. So whatever it is you think she once felt for Simone Delahunt has nothing to do with how she feels about you.”

Tears filled my eyes and I still couldn't speak. Bernice touched my cheek and smiled down at me. “One of these days, I hope you'll learn to let her love you. It would mean so much to her.”

I felt small and petty, embarrassed that I'd let all my old junk get the best of me again. I wasn't completely wrong. Miss Frankie really had to stop committing me to things without asking. But getting her to change would be a long, slow process. We weren't in a TV sitcom where one conversation could bring about a lasting life change. If it could, I'd be a changed woman every week.

Twenty-five

Thinking about everything that had happened that day ramped up the exhaustion I'd been feeling, but I wasn't ready to go inside and settle in for a sleepover, so I tried to map out a plan for fixing the Mercedes and getting back to New Orleans.

I wasn't going to wait for Gabriel indefinitely, but I still didn't want to call Ox, which meant I also couldn't call Isabeau. She might be keeping secrets from him, but I wouldn't ask her to drive to Baie Rebelle and not tell him where she was going. I could ask Dwight or Estelle, but I was almost certain that either of them would tell Ox where they were going, and if Ox thought I was in trouble, he'd come along for the ride. I liked knowing that about him, but that's what makes our relationship so complicated. Edie was out in her condition, and I didn't want to drag Sparkle too far away either when her niece or nephew might be born at any time.

I'd just have to wait until morning and hope that sleep would clear my head so I could figure out what to do.

Stars filled the night sky, and every so often something would rustle one of the nearby bushes. I tried not to think about what was out there. After a few minutes I caught the distinctive aroma of cigarette smoke and saw Eskil walk to the edge of the porch at the far end of the house. He looked tired. Maybe even a little sad. I wondered if I was looking at a killer. Had he finally found proof that Silas's moonshine business should have been his? Had he had enough of Silas's taunts? Had he flipped out? Spotted a toilet tank lid and lost control?

He turned and caught me watching him. I held my breath and tried to look . . . I don't know, maybe invisible.

“What you doin' out here all by yourself?” he asked.

Apparently my invisibility cloak wasn't working. “Just looking at the stars. It's a beautiful night.”

“It is that.” He crushed his cigarette under the toe of his boot and moved closer to where I was sitting. “What are you going to do about your car?”

I shrugged. “I haven't figured that out yet. The first thing will be to get it towed to a mechanic so I can find out what the damage is.”

Eskil sat, groaning like an old man as his knees bent. “I hear those airbags can be expensive to replace.” He lit another cigarette and held it up as an afterthought. “This gonna bother you?”

“Not really.” I could have just kept my mouth shut and looked at the stars, but I thought about Bernice and the promise I'd made the other night to help clear Eskil. And I remembered the disappointment on her face just a few minutes earlier. Most of all, I thought about all the times she'd been there for Miss Frankie in the short time I'd known her, and I knew that I couldn't let the moment pass. It seemed that Eskil was feeling talkative. I couldn't just walk away.

“Aunt Margaret told me why you disliked Silas. She said you think Silas had something to do with your father's disappearance.”

Eskil stared out at the clearing and smoked in silence. Just when I'd decided he was no longer in the mood to share, he dropped his head and looked at me from the corners of his eyes. “I don't think it. I know it.”

My heart skipped a beat. “You know that for a fact? How?”

“Sonofabitch told me, that's how. He was always hinting around. Throwing it in my face. Every time I got on him for cutting one of my lines or poaching something I trapped, he'd tell me how he outsmarted my daddy and he'd outsmart me, too.” Eskil rested his arms on his thighs and looked down at his boots. “Silas was crazy. No doubt about that. And he deserved to die if anyone did. But I didn't kill him if that's what you're thinking.”

I believed him. At least I wanted to. “Can you prove it?”

He laughed through his nose. “Well, now, how can you prove you didn't do something you didn't do?”

“I don't know. Maybe you could provide an alibi.”

“By admitting I went to New Orleans and scared the bejesus out of Bernice?”

“That might be a start,” I said. “It was you, wasn't it?”

“Of course it was. How many people you know as ugly as me?”

I laughed and let myself relax a little. “I don't think you're ugly at all. But you do have a distinctive look. So why all the secrecy? Will you tell me?”

“Mama said she told you about Daddy's still.”

I nodded. “She mentioned it.”

“Well, that's why I went. That morning Silas stopped hinting around. He came right out and told me that he slit my daddy's throat and threw him into the swamp. Somehow he'd tracked Daddy to the still. Daddy caught him spying and they got into it.”

I shuddered at the image. “Silas told you this? Why? I mean . . .
Why
? After all this time?”

Eskil shrugged. “I don't know. He'd been acting weird for a while, but even weirder since his own mama died last month. Far as I know, he hadn't seen her in years. He never stopped by. Sure as hell never called her. Didn't act like he gave a damn. Didn't even show up for his own daddy's funeral. Or hers either. But I guess losing her made him go crazy.”

“You don't know why?”

“I don't have a clue, but it's not as if the folks in that family tell me their secrets.”

“This is a small town,” I said. “I thought everyone knew everybody else's business. I thought that was the law or something.”

Eskil chuckled. “Don't believe everything you read.”

“Okay. I won't. But what does any of that have to do with you going to Bernice's house?”

“Silas told me he'd killed my daddy. He told me he'd stolen a still that had been in my family for a hundred years. Daddy died before he could give me the location of the still and nobody else would've known it.”

“And you thought Bernice might?”

He grinned and shook his head. “Not exactly. But her daddy got our granddaddy's things when Granny died. I thought she might still have them tucked away somewhere.”

“Why all the sneaking around?” I asked. “Why not just ring the bell and ask for what you wanted?”

Eskil shrugged. “If she didn't know what she had, I didn't want her to know. It was a matter of pride. I didn't want to be the first Percifield man to let the secret out. I'm pretty good at getting in and out without being spotted. I figured I could just look around without her knowing I was there.”

Epic fail
. “She was completely convinced that she saw Cooch's ghost,” I said. “And after she found out that you were supposedly lost in the swamp, she thought Cooch had come to warn her.”

Eskil looked sheepish, which I thought was the least he could do.

“What was it you thought Bernice might have?”

“I thought there might have been a message of some kind. A clue. Something that might give me an idea where to look for the still. It was a crazy idea, I know. I was pissed. I got drunk. I wasn't thinking straight.”

“You drove to New Orleans drunk? Are you out of your mind? You could have killed somebody!”

Since he was under suspicion of doing just that, I was embarrassed by my reaction. Eskil seemed to feel worse than I did. He wagged his head and took a long drag from his cigarette. “Yeah. I know. It was a stupid thing to do. I was so angry I
would
have killed Silas if I'd seen him again that night. It's pure dumb luck I didn't.”

“Where were you when he confessed to killing Uncle Cooch?”

“At the dock. He'd been up to his old tricks. He'd cleaned off a few of my lines. I saw him and confronted him about it.”

“And out of nowhere he confessed?”

Eskil's beard twitched. “No. We had a talk. Then he told me that I'd never prove what he was doing, and then he confessed.”

“And you just let him go.”

“I took a couple of swings. Got in a solid punch or two. But I needed him alive to find what he stole.”

“The family still.”

“That's right.”

Parts of his story had the ring of truth, but I wasn't completely convinced. “You expect me to believe that Silas admitting to killing your father and you just let him walk away? You got drunk and drove to New Orleans, knowing what Silas had done?”

“How else was I going to prove it?”

“You could have called the sheriff's department. You could have told them what Silas said and let them investigate.” The irony of me giving him that particular piece of advice wasn't lost on me, but we weren't talking about me. And besides, the circumstances were completely different. “I take it you didn't find a clue at Bernice's house?”

“Didn't even look. She started screaming and I took off. I thought maybe everything would blow over and she'd forget.”

I laughed softly. “Yeah. Good plan. Why did you tell everyone you'd been lost in the swamp?”

“After I left Bernice's, I found a parking lot and spent the night in my truck. Next morning I had breakfast at the Waffle House and killed some time in the city. I wanted to make sure I'd sobered up before I hit the road again. That afternoon I stopped to fill my truck with gas a couple of towns up the road from home. Heard people talking and realized all of Baie Rebelle was out looking for me. If I'd pulled up in my truck like nothing had happened, I'd never have heard the end of it. I didn't figure on anybody realizing I wasn't out on the water all night.”

Unbelievable. Something dark darted from one bush to another and I gasped. “What was that?”

“What was what?”

I pointed. “That. There. Something is out there.”

Eskil watched for a moment and then shrugged off the question. “Maybe a possum. Maybe a rabbit. Maybe the rougarou comin' to get me.”

“Funny.” I watched for a little while longer and then returned to the conversation we'd been having. “So you went to New Orleans intending to break into Bernice's house and rifle through her things. That plan failed, so you came home and perpetrated a giant fraud on the whole town to keep from being embarrassed? Is that about right?”

“I've got my pride.”

I still had questions, but that one statement seemed to sum it all up in his mind. He looked up at the sky and stood. “It's getting late and I want to be out on the water by sunrise. If you need anything, just let Mama know.”

He strolled away, whistling softly, and I went inside right away. Not because I believed the rougarou was lurking in the trees, but because I didn't think I could stay awake another minute.

Miss Frankie and Bernice were already asleep by the time I crept down the hall and into the guest room, but I found one of my mother-in-law's nightgowns folded on top of my pillow. It had been a long, hard day and my emotions were raw. My car was stuck in the middle of nowhere, and I was stuck in Baie Rebelle with no way out. There was no other reason why seeing that nightgown waiting would reduce me to tears.

Twenty-six

Friday morning I was up with the sun, but I was still the last one out of bed. My chest still hurt and my neck was still sore from yesterday's crash. The smell of air bag chemicals clung to my hair and skin, but otherwise I felt almost good. I was alive, and that counted for something.

Miss Frankie and Bernice had somehow gotten past and out the door without disturbing me, but they'd left a pair of jeans, a plaid shirt, and a pair of granny panties on the foot of my sleeping bag. The jeans were too short and the shirt too large, but everything was clean so I wasn't going to complain.

The kitchen was empty but I found coffee and bread for toast. After wolfing down a slice (or two), I made a couple of calls. First, I left Ox a message that I wouldn't be in that morning and then I tried Sullivan's number again. I didn't expect to reach him, but he answered and apologized for being unable to help. I had just enough time to tell him not to worry about me before he had to go. After we hung up, I tried to decide who to call next, but the phone rang while I was still running through the possibilities. I answered before I could think about the fact that I was in someone else's house and using their phone. Which turned out to be a good thing.

“You're up!” Gabriel said when he heard my voice. “I was looking forward to waking you up myself.”

I was so glad to hear his voice, I giggled. “You got my message?”

“I heard it after work last night. I didn't want to call this number and wake everyone up, so I waited. Are you okay?” He sounded far away and I picked up a strange interference on the line, but I was just thrilled that we had any connection at all.

“A little stiff and sore, and if I never have an air bag go off around me again, I'll die happy. Is there any chance you can come and get me? There's no way I'm driving out of here in the Mercedes—and if by some miracle I find someone who can fix it, I won't be on the road anytime soon.”

“I'm nearly there,” he said. “I just stopped for gas and I'm about to get back on the road.”

“You're coming to Baie Rebelle?”

“You said you needed help, didn't you?”

My eyes filled with tears. “Yeah, I did.”

“So help is on the way. I'm maybe half an hour away, but my cell signal's been in and out for miles, so I decided to call while I had a few bars. Is there anything I need to know to find the house?”

I gave him directions to Aunt Margaret's and told him what to watch for along the road that would help him find me. I hung up a few minutes later wearing a smile that stretched from ear to ear. I couldn't expect Gabriel to tow the Mercedes back to civilization, so I got busy trying to arrange a rescue for my poor car. Unfortunately, Nettie had been right. I couldn't find a towing service locally, and the cost of getting an actual tow truck way out to the back of beyond to haul the Mercedes to a certified mechanic was astronomical.

I tried three different companies and did my best to negotiate a reasonable fee, but nobody was willing to budge. So when Kale Laroche showed up on the doorstep with a friend and an offer to pull the Mercedes out of the ditch for me, I accepted the help gratefully. I handed over my keys and jotted down directions to a place called Ed's, where Kale and his friend planned to take the Mercedes. Could this Ed repair my car? I could only hope.

After Kale and his friend left, I spent some time pretending to work on sketches for the Belle Lune Ball, but I was too antsy to sit still so I decided to look around outside. I thought I was alone, but to my surprise, I came across Tallulah digging in a flowerbed in the backyard.

She looked up as I walked toward her and used the back of her wrist to brush the straight brown hair away from her forehead. “So. You're awake.” I guess she wanted to make sure I'd noticed.

“I've been up for a while,” I told her. “I've been making phone calls.”

“Humph.” At least I think that's what she said. It was hard to tell. She sat back on her heels and the frown on her face turned into the stony glare of a challenge. “I hope you're not expecting breakfast.”

What was wrong with her? I knew I wasn't her favorite, but she seemed even more hostile than usual. I did my best not to give attitude back. “I've already eaten. Where is everyone else? The house seems deserted.”

“Ladies' Bible study,” Tallulah said. “Down at the church. They waited around for you, but you never got out of bed so they gave up.”

If she was trying to make me feel guilty, she'd have to do better than that. My aunt Yolanda could out-guilt anyone I'd ever met. Plus, I remembered Bitty saying that Tallulah didn't participate with the good ladies of the church, so she had no room to talk. She could try to make me feel bad, but I was determined to be gracious. “That was nice of them,” I said with a saccharine smile. “Another time, I guess.”

She answered that with a second
humph
and started digging again. “Clothes fit you, I see.”

I glanced down at my ankles protruding from the pants and the shirt hanging to my knees. I hadn't worn clothes this ill fitting since I was a kid and Aunt Yolanda took me school shopping at the thrift store. “Yes. Do I have you to thank?”

Tallulah jerked her chin. “Frances was going to find you something from her suitcase, but I said she's too tall for you.” She went back to digging. “Those are fine, yes?”

I wasn't sure she expected an answer but I gave her one anyway. After all, I wouldn't want to seem rude. “Yes. They're fine.”

She flicked her eyes over me and tossed a spade full of sandy dirt at my feet. “I heard your phone call this morning. Does Liam know you've got another man on the side?”

Aha! So that's what had put her in such a cheerful mood. It would have been amusing if it hadn't been so annoying. “You listened in on my personal phone call?”

“I answered a call on my own phone,” Tallulah said with a sniff. She wagged a cordless handset in my face. “How was I to know you'd pick up the phone when it rang?”

“I had no idea anyone was here,” I said. “I thought you were all out somewhere and I'd given this number to a few people.”

Another flick of disapproving eyes. Another spade full of dirt aimed at my feet.

“A friend of mine is on his way to drive me back to New Orleans since my car isn't working. But thanks for jumping to conclusions.”

Tallulah tugged off a thick gardening glove and raked her fingers through her hair. “You think you can play fast and loose with men, but you can't. Sooner or later it'll catch up with you.”

Was she for real? “I appreciate your concern,” I lied, “but you really don't have to worry. Liam knows all about Gabriel and vice versa.”

“Men don't like to be lied to,” Tallulah went on, as if I hadn't said a word. “You can't play with their feelings.”

“I'm not,” I assured her. “And at the risk of sounding rude, it's really none of your business.”

“If you don't believe me, ask Bitty. She could tell you a thing or two. Me? I got a man and settled down. One man was good enough for me.”

I refrained from telling her that I knew that man had walked out on her, and instead I squeaked out a surprised, “Bitty?”

Tallulah brushed dirt from her knee and dug around a bit more. “You know what she's like. She has trouble making decisions, and she's always been that way. She had two men dangling on a string, and in the end she lost them both.” She shook the spade at me, sending dirt flying. “You mark my words. You keep playing around the way you are, you'll be the one who loses in the end.”

Half a dozen hot retorts rose to my tongue, but for Bernice's sake, I swallowed them all. Tallulah and her family had taken me in on a moment's notice. They'd fed me, housed me, and even clothed me. I wouldn't repay their generosity with an argument, no matter how wrong Tallulah was.

And she was wrong, even though deep down, far beneath my outrage, I wondered if I could be making a mistake. How long would both Sullivan and Gabriel wait around for me? Should I pick one and let the other go? I didn't think I was playing around with their affections. I'd been up front with both of them and as honest as I knew how to be. But were they really okay with the status quo or was I simply justifying my behavior?

I heard a car door shut and my heart gave a leap. I left Tallulah to her digging and hurried back to the house. To be honest, I just wanted to escape the look in Tallulah's eyes and the questions she'd raised. I wasn't sure whether I was more upset with Tallulah because she was wrong about me—or because she was right.

*   *   *

Gabriel took one look at my too-short pants and baggy plaid shirt and let out a low whistle. I'd pulled my hair into a messy bun and I had no makeup with me so my face was scrubbed clean. “Looks like I got here just in time. I had no idea you were in this much trouble.”

I've looked better, but he'd also seen me looking worse, so I grabbed his arm and tugged him inside. “Not another word about the way I look. You have no idea what the past couple of days have been like.”

He sobered and ran another look over my face, this one filled with concern. “I'm just glad you're in one piece,” he said and leaned in for a gentle kiss.

My heart flipped when his lips touched mine, but it didn't flop the way it usually did. Probably because Tallulah had stirred up all those nasty feelings of guilt.

He must have sensed a difference in me because he pulled back slowly, his eyes narrowed slightly. “I didn't hurt you, did I?”

“Of course not. I'm just . . . ready to get out of here.” Which was true. It just wasn't the whole truth. I waved him toward the couch and headed toward the bedroom. “Give me two minutes to grab my things. Then we can hit the road.”

“What about your car?” he called after me.

“A couple of local guys are towing it to a place called Ed's. It should be safe enough there until I can figure out how to get it back to the city.” I ducked into the bedroom, stuffed my dirty clothes into a pillowcase I'd return later, and rolled up the sleeping bag. I thought about leaving a note for Miss Frankie and Bernice, but after our conversations last night, I thought it might be better to speak to them in person.

Back in the living room, I jerked my head toward the door. “I'm ready if you are. I just need to make one stop before we leave town. It shouldn't take long.”

“You're calling the shots,” Gabriel said as he followed me outside. “Where do you need to go?”

“Ladies' Bible study. The church is right next to the bar. You passed both on your way through town.”

Gabriel didn't even bat an eye.

“I need to tell Miss Frankie that I'm leaving,” I explained. “And I'm hoping she'll let me use her car for a few days while I'm trying to figure out what to do about mine.”

“Gotcha.” Gabriel held the door and I quick-stepped across the front yard to his car.

Tallulah came around the house as Gabriel and I climbed into his car. She kept her distance, but I could feel her watching us and passing judgment on every move I made.

“Who's that?” Gabriel asked.

I kept the answer simple. “She's Bernice's cousin Tallulah.”

“She seems to be waiting for something. Do you think you should say something to her?”

“No, I don't.” I knew that I sounded impatient and maybe even nervous, but the last thing I wanted was for Tallulah to share her opinions with Gabriel. Bad enough that she'd shared them with me. I buckled up and pulled down the visor. “Can we just
go
?”

Gabriel started the car and took off. I watched Tallulah grow smaller and smaller in the side mirror, and then finally disappear.

“Are you going to tell me what's going on?” Gabriel asked as he turned onto the highway.

“It's nothing,” I said. “She was in a mood this morning, and so was I. It wasn't a good combination.” I made myself more comfortable and put Tallulah out of my mind. “Thanks for coming all this way to get me. I hope it wasn't too much trouble.”

“No trouble at all,” he said with a grin. “I'm just glad I could help. Are you going to tell me what happened to your car?”

I gave him the short version of the story, leaving out unnecessary details like the fact that I had been tailing Kale through some deserted swampland at the time. Gabriel tends to get overly protective of me in certain circumstances, and I already knew that tailing murder suspects was one of them.

If he suspected that I was holding back, he gave no sign of it, and by the time I finished my story, we'd reached the Baie Rebelle Church single-wide. Bible study was breaking up, so I made arrangements with Miss Frankie to use her car, and promised to collect the mail at both their houses while they were away. A few minutes later, we were driving away from Baie Rebelle and its hidden stills and murder by toilet tank lids, and toward the real-life world of cake, feuding staff members, and babies on the way. I'd been in Baie Rebelle for just twenty-four hours, but it felt as if I'd been away for weeks.

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