Sugar Doll's Hurricane Blues (31 page)

 

“The following Friday, Sugar Doll and Remy packed their bags and planned their escape. Mona had gotten the tickets and disappeared just as quickly as she had come to them. Sugar Doll called Tonya to come in to run the bar. She had a business sense and would keep the place going for the weeks they would be gone.

“Stop worrying girl, I’m going to hire a quartet to perform during dinner and maybe a singer in your absence. It will be fine. If anyone asks I’ll say that you are on your honeymoon which is as true as it gets.” Tonya reassured her friend. The girls embraced.

“Thank you girl, I wish I could tell you everything, but it is better that you are in the dark.” Sugar Doll reasoned.

The trial was that morning and it had been decided if they left earlier it would alert Marsalas that something was wrong.

“Are you alright?” Remy asked Sugar Doll as she looked out the tinted window of the black SUV. Tommy was in the driver’s seat. His identity had come as a revelation in itself.

“I’m just wondering if we’ll ever get back to normal.” She cried.

“What is normal honey? Just a setting on the washing machine.” Remy cracked smiling at his joke.

“You always make me feel better.” Sugar Doll said.

“New Orleans is not the only city in the world you know.” He replied.

“Yes, but it’s our city.” She took his arm and leaned her head on his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head.

They approached the airport. Tommy got their bags out of the truck and went with Remy to check in at the sky cap. They waited in line while Sugar Doll hung back looking nervously over her shoulder. The sky cap took the bag and began to tag it. He looked at Remy in recognition.

“Hey, do you remember that weekend in Duluth?” He asked.

Remy looked behind him to see who the man was talking to and then pointed to himself.

“Me? I’ve never been to Georgia.” Remy replied.

The man stared blankly for a moment. He nodded and then bent down to put the bag on the tram. A shot rang out as Remy stood strangely motionless. He then fell to one knee awkwardly as though he were being invisibly held up by angels. Tommy sprang into action dropping the bags and running toward Sugar Doll. He was hit in the right shoulder as he lurched his body forward to cover the distance between them. He landed on Sugar Doll and they both tumbled to the ground.

“Keep still!” He shouted to her. Remy was still kneeling but he managed to turn toward Sugar Doll. She let out a horrific scream. People began to run into the airport entrance. Sugar Doll watched as Remy’s eyes clouded over and became glazed. She saw blood seep from his hairline. She tried to move but Tommy’s weight pinned her down. She could taste her lipstick first and then blood.

“Let me go!” She screamed crying. Tommy wouldn’t budge.

“It’s my job to protect you.” He gritted through his teeth. In moments squad cars flooded the upper floor departure portion of the airport. Shots rang out in the nearby garage but they were distant.

“Put your hands over your head!” An officer commanded Tommy who was struggling to hold Sugar Doll down.

“FBI!” He shouted reluctantly releasing Sugar Doll and reaching for his badge evident on his belt. Sugar Doll crawled toward Remy. He was unconscious.

 

Mona’s testimony had damaged Marsalas but she learned during the trial that a simple gunman named Michael had signed sworn affidavits of his involvement in at least three murders and the extortion of at least six public officials. He was not at the trial but his mother had come and testified to her son’s signatures. She had even implicated Marsalas in her son’s disappearance.

“He came to me in a dream. He told me to look for him down by the old river road.” Michael’s mother testified. On a lark the District Attorney’s office sent a few officers out there
to investigate and they found his body next to a tree. He was holding a crucifix. Marsalas was indicted on twelve counts of money laundering, three murders and four counts of extortion. He sat wooden as the charges were brought against him.

Mona left immediately after the trial. The Marsalas family was still powerful and she feared for her life. Sugar Doll was unafraid.

 

“Hey dahling…you still want to go to Holland or France?” Remy smiled from his hospital bed. Sugar Doll leaned in to kiss him as he wrinkled his nose.

“You look like a civil war victim” She laughed.

“Yeah, getting shot in the head will do that to a person.” Remy cracked.

“It’s a good thing that you have a hard head.” Sugar Doll smiled seriously kissing his cheek.

“What’s the doctor say?” Remy asked.

“You were lucky. One more inch and no more Remy. The angle of the shot was what saved you. You will sing again though.” Sugar Doll smiled.

“I want to do more than sing sugar.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Do you think it’s over now?” She asked her eyes reflecting concern.

“Dahling, we’re public figures. They don’t want to mess with us. Besides we had nothing to do with Tony’s mess, Bertrand’s trouble or Mona’s testimony. We should just focus on our singing career.” Remy reassured her.

“And our growing family.” Sugar Doll smiled down at Remy.

Remy tried to sit up but grimaced in pain and lowered himself back to his pillow. “A baby?” He smiled.

“I hope that he can sing.” Sugar Doll smiled as well.

“Oh he’s going to be a drummer baby.” Remy reached for Sugar Doll’s hand.

Kalua Lauber is a writer and teacher who currently lives in California with her husband Celso and young son Celsinho. This is her first novel. She has a Master’s Degree in English and Secondary Education. She grew up in rural Louisiana and the tragic events of Hurricane Katrina inspired this story. She hopes one day to return to her home state.

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