Sweet Mystery (4 page)

“Well, after we get the succession in motion,
we can decide.” Rae felt a tension headache coming on with the
effort to sort out her feelings.

“Daddy didn’t have much. Just this land and
his little house. I say we sell.” Neville looked around.

“We’ll see,” Rae said.

“Jarvis says he left most of it to you, which
is fine with me.” Neville wore a sad smile. “I’m surprised Daddy
even made a will. He wasn’t one to think about dying.”

“Lucien really did love you. He bragged about
you behind your back.” Rae hugged her older brother’s meaty arm.
“‘My son is a big-time supervisor running an entire chemical lab,’
he used to say.”

“Yeah, well...” Neville turned away, rubbing
his eyes. “I just wish we hadn’t spent so many years being mad at
each other.”

Rae and Neville stood quietly, wrapped in
memories of their father. Tomorrow they would sit with Jarvis
Eames, a childhood playmate and now a lawyer, and go over Lucien’s
will. Then perhaps Rae would have a better idea of which direction
she would take.

***

“What do you think they’re going to do about
his land?” Ellis Mouton dabbed at his lips with a delicate motion
as he watched Darcy’s expression.

“Sell it if they have any business sense.”
Darcy took a sip from the china cup, filled with strong Louisiana
coffee.

Darcy, the color of cafe au lait, was dressed
in an impeccable, custom-tailored suit. He was sitting in the plush
office of Mouton Enterprises. Ellis Mouton was one of the
wealthiest white men in Acadia Parish, just like his father and
grandfather. In fact, the Mouton family had been prominent in
Louisiana for almost two hundred years.

Ellis raised a dark eyebrow at him. “To
you?”

“Not even Neville Dalcour would stomach
that,” Darcy said. “No, Simon will make them an offer.” He wore a
sly smile.

“We need that property for a new plant.
Pantheon won’t wait forever. Bob Caskill is coming down next week
to meet with us.” Ellis put down his cup. “I want this to happen
before there can be a lot of screaming from those folks who live
around there.”

Darcy laughed. “So what if they do? Promise
them jobs and build a few pre-fab houses to replace their swamp
shacks, and they’ll quiet down.”

“What about their property? They won’t want
to give up the land so easily.”

“Give them money to buy beer and they won’t
care,” Darcy retorted.

“You don’t think much of your people, do
you?” Ellis wore a superior look. His lip twitched at the effect of
his words on Darcy.

“My people don’t live in shacks,” Darcy
snapped. He pulled back his shoulders. “Creoles with intelligence
would never squat in the bayou the way those people do. Fact is
we’d be doing them a favor by clearing the way for a plant to be
built.”

Ellis gave a soft chuckle. “Now if we could
just convince them of that.” He frowned after a few seconds. “What
about the environmentalist?”

“Busy fighting Langston Industries over in
Beaufort. That should keep them well occupied for months. The
timing is perfect.” Darcy nodded with satisfaction.

“And the report from the civil engineer?”
Ellis rubbed his chin. “The flooding problem–”

“Bailey wrote his report so that we can argue
that flooding is not appreciably increased by construction on that
land.” Darcy waved a hand, as though making his point
disappear.

“But it interrupts the flow from that small
creek, which means water will back up into Bayou Latte. Those
houses back on Decuir Road could be under water with one hard
rain.”

“Bailey said it would have to rain buckets
for several days. Even so, we can work with the Corps of Engineers
to dredge Bayou Latte and part of the lake.”

“That could take a long time. The Corps
schedules project as much as three years in advance.” Ellis
examined his silk tie. He was not the least bit concerned; only
making a point.

“They could move it up, based on the damage
potential to the wetlands. If need be, we’ll enlist the aid of
environmentalists to make it happen.” Darcy shrugged. “You know how
those people go into spasms at the thought of wetlands being
destroyed.”

“Clever, clever man…”

Darcy got up and poured some more coffee into
his cup. “All in all, I think things will fall into place
quickly.”

Ellis gazed at Darcy’s slim build. “You’ve
orchestrated everything down to the last detail. Except–”

“Yes?” Darcy turned to him.

“Simon St. Cyr doesn’t impress me as being an
easy dupe. When he realizes you used him to get the plant built
there could be big trouble. Then what will you do?”

Darcy wore a hard expression. “Explain the
facts of life to him.”

“So, you’ll use Simon St. Cyr to get Dalcour
land and the environmentalists to take the heat off the Pantheon
project.” Ellis stood up to face Darcy, gazing into the younger
man’s hazel-green eyes. “How are you using me, Darcy?”

“You already know the answer to that, Ellis.”
Darcy returned his gaze steadily for several moments, before moving
back to the leather chair facing the mahogany desk. “Now let’s talk
about Pantheon’s last offer.”

* * *

Toya sat glaring at Simon. “Why were you
talking to her? Eames is their attorney; you just have to deal with
him.”

Simon heaved a sigh. “For the tenth time,
don’t tell me how to conduct business. Whoever heard of trying to
do business with someone you never meet? Don’t be ridiculous.”

Simon gazed at his ex-wife and wondered once
again about the wisdom of having his office in Belle Rose. Toya
seemed to think she had a right to pop in at will. Of course, he
had to take part of the blame. Setting up office in New Orleans or
Baton Rouge made more sense, but sentimentalism had tugged at him.
His great great-grandfather had operated a carpentry and blacksmith
shop on this same spot for fifty years. Gilbert Williams had been
one of the few blacks operating a business during the
Reconstruction era in rural Louisiana. But, now, looking at the
angry woman standing across from him, Simon wished he’d been less
nostalgic.

“Rae Dalcour is trouble. Something you should
know well enough.”

“I know what you’ve told me, Toya. All I
remember hearing is that she was a teenager who liked to
party.”

Simon stared out the window next to his desk.
A wash of sunshine painted the small, downtown scene visible from
his corner building. Rae Dalcour. She was not what he’d expected.
Growing up in the community six miles down the highway from Belle
Rose, and being four years older than Rae, he’d only heard talk of
the Dalcour children.

Rae’s exploits had become legendary, even
with the older kids around the bayou community. Simon found it hard
to believe the wary young woman who had stood studying him was the
same person. Her voice was smooth with just a hint of huskiness to
it. That almond-brown skin had looked soft and inviting. She must
be about five foot six. Nice curves, too. He had to admit that he
was intrigued by the woman he’d met. Simon wanted to know more
about her.

Toya’s sharp voice snapped him back from his
musings. “So you’re going to get into her underwear as soon as
possible?” She glared at him through narrowed eyes.

Simon cleared his throat. He must be nuts
daydreaming about any woman, much less Rae Dalcour, with Toya
sitting six feet away. What was wrong with him? Toya was right
about one thing – Rae Dalcour was trouble if she could send him off
on such a tangent after only seeing her once.

Simon did not need another scene with Toya
today. “My dating habits are none of your business.”

“When we separated, I told you we should try
again,” she said in a quiet voice.

“Toya, we did try. It didn’t work. You talk
like we just split up.” Simon picked up a stack of papers. “It’s
been six years. We got married for the wrong reasons.”

Simon didn’t want to go over this old ground
again. With their families so closely bound by ties that stretched
back to the infamous scandal fifty years ago, the Jove and St. Cyr
children socialized together. His grandfather and Toya’s had been
delighted when the young couple became engaged. Toya was twenty-one
and Simon twenty-five.

But Simon realized within the first year of
their marriage that they were not in the least bit suited to each
other. Toya was possessive and willful, and there were numerous
screaming matches until, after only two years, they separated. For
over a year, Toya held onto him, refusing to settle their divorce.
She used every legal excuse to delay until finally her own attorney
told her it was no use.

Toya leaned forward. “You came back to me
once. I remember that night.”

Simon winced. Driven by guilt and misdirected
compassion, he’d made the mistake of staying with her after the
annual Mardi Gras party. And he’d regretted it immediately. “It’s
no good between us, Toya.”

She stood up abruptly. “Sorry to bring up
such a painful memory. Try not to get sick,” she hissed. “You go on
sniffing around Rae Dalcour. I’ll be there to gloat when she drags
you down into her own filth.”

“Toya, stop it. This is what pushed me away
from you.” Simon tried to hold onto his temper. “Now, I’ve got work
to do. Goodbye.”

As usual they could not manage to part on
cordial terms. He watched her stomp out; the door to his office
banging shut behind her. Simon let out a groan. His office door
opened again.

Baylor Hill, Simon’s friend and sometime
business partner, appeared in the doorway. “Well, what’s up with
Queen Toya now? She snapped my head off just for saying hello.”

“Same old, same old.” Simon waved him in.

“Ah.” Baylor grinned. No further explanation
was needed. “Man, you’ve got more patience than ten saints. I would
have cut the woman off completely years ago.”

“In a way I can’t help but feel sorry for
her. Ms. Lorise died when Toya was only twelve and her father was
killed ten years later in a boating accident.”

“Yeah, well, that doesn’t give her the right
to treat people like crap.” Baylor was not in a forgiving mood when
it came to Toya. “Of course, having Rae back in town is probably
not helping.” He leaned forward with interest.

“Baylor, you’re a worst gossip than my
elderly aunts.” Simon shook a finger at him.

Baylor ignored the jibe. “So what was she
like when you talked to her the other day? They say she is one wild
woman. Been playing blues in tough nightclubs all over the
country.”

Simon once again thought of the lovely face
that had turned up to look at him earlier that day. Yes, she had an
air of suppressed energy. Rae had stood straight and looked at him
without a hint of shyness. She was strong, but there was something
else in those big brown eyes. A prick of heat touched his
spine.

“I expected her to look... different,” Simon
murmured.

Baylor nodded. “From the way folks talk, you
would think she’d looked all used up and rough.” He stared at his
friend with speculation. “But I hear she’s good looking.”

“Yeah,” was all Simon said. He remembered the
thick, black hair pulled back in an effort to tame its coarse
curls, lying in one large braid down to her shoulders. What would
it look like loose, framing her face?

“And you’re meeting with her tomorrow?”
Baylor fell silent for several minutes. “Oh-oh, I see flashing
yellow lights signaling caution.”

Simon blinked at him. “What?”

“Don’t get pulled in. Everybody knows the
Dalcours are trouble. Besides, there are loads of women you can
choose from that don’t carry that baggage. You’ve still got to do
business in this parish.” Baylor goaded him and was rewarded with
the expected reaction.

Simon crossed his arms. “You should know
better than to quote one of those ‘everybody knows’ kind of
generalizations.”

“Lucien Dalcour was always picking fights
with Mr. Henry. Proof he wasn’t screwed too tight,” Baylor said.
“Toya’s grandfather is the meanest old dude around.”

“Darcy and his grandfather think that
property could be a prime camp ground area, and I do, too.” Simon
got up to point at the large map on the wall behind his desk. “That
place is already popular. You know the old beach area. Kids
especially like to go tubing down the river from there.”

“All three of you are hallucinating if you
think Rae Dalcour is going to sell any part of her family’s land to
you guys,” Baylor retorted and crossed his legs.

“Why not? She’s got a career to pursue. I
don’t think either of her brothers will refuse the price we’ll
offer.” Simon lifted both hands.

“Why is Darcy pushing you out front? That
dude has something up his sleeve, man. Watch him.”

“We both decided to handle it this way. I
don’t have the history with them that Darcy and Toya have.”

Baylor lifted an eyebrow at him. “Your
grandfather was one of the partners.”

Simon shook his head. “Papa Joe didn’t go on
the crusade that Mr. Henry did when Vincent Dalcour split. No, the
only thing to do is make sure Rae Dalcour understands the potential
of profit. I’m going to take my time on this deal.”

Baylor grinned at him. “That won’t be such a
bad job after all. She’s got it all the way. Smart move, my
brother.”

“Like I said, this is business,” Simon
replied, affecting what he hoped was a convincing matter-of-fact
tone.

“Um-hum, sure it is. A sexy woman with a wild
reputation blows into town after a lot of years. She’s got a walk
that makes you wanna holler and it’s just business.” Baylor stood.
“Peddle it to some other sucker ‘cause I ain’t buyin’.” He strolled
to the door.

“Hey, my mind isn’t always in the same
direction when it comes to a fine woman,” Simon shot back.