Bayou Justice. Robin Caroll

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Bayou Justice - Robin  Caroll

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door swung open, saving CoCo from having to think of a response. A tall man in a business suit strode inside. His hair, black as the bayou bottom, contrasted against the chocolate color of his skin. “You must be CoCo LeBlanc. I’m Dwayne Williams.”

      He gave her a solid handshake. Her spirits soared—Grandpere had always said you could trust a man with a firm grip. “This is my grandmother, Marie LeBlanc.”

      Grandmere stood quickly and extended her hand. “Mr. Williams.”

      “Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. LeBlanc.” He straightened and waved them both to the chairs. “Please, sit.” He moved to the chair across the table from them and sat.

      “Now, tell me what Mr. Trahan served you,” Mr. Williams said, steepling his fingers over the legal pad and pen sitting on the glossy table.

      Digging the paper out of her purse, CoCo’s hands trembled slightly. She set her jaw and slid the eviction notice across the table to him. “This is what he hand-delivered to us yesterday.” Why were her palms sweating? As casually as possible, she wiped her hands on her jeans.

      He scanned the paper and then lifted his pen over his legal pad. “Mrs. LeBlanc, is it possible that what Mr. Trahan states is true?” He tapped the pen against the paper. “Could your husband have signed over the deed to your property?”

      “Beau Trahan is a lying, two-bit scum. Marcel never signed over any property deed—not willingly. Beau did something underhanded—I just know it. Probably told my Marcel he was signing something totally different.” Grandmere’s eyes hardened around the edges.

      CoCo patted her grandmother’s hand. “Mr. Williams, I—”

      “Please, call me Dwayne.”

      She smiled. “Dwayne, I’ve lived with my grandparents for thirteen years, and this business about signing over the deed has never been mentioned before.”

      “It’s easy enough to check out. If this did happen, there’ll be a claim on file down at the courthouse. A matter of public record.”

      “So, what do we do?” CoCo held her breath and waited for his reply.

      Dwayne sat straight in his chair. “I’ll be honest with you. The main reason I took this case was because it involved Beau Trahan. I’m investigating him in an unrelated issue.” He pressed his lips together for a moment, pausing before dropping the pen. “I’m inclined to believe Mrs. LeBlanc.”

      “That Mr. Beau had my grandfather sign something he didn’t understand?”

      “Yes.” He held up a hand. “I’m not accusing Mr. Trahan of anything—not yet—but I can see something like that happening.”

      “Isn’t that illegal?”

      “Yes, it is. However, I’ll have to research it more fully. I’ll start by going to the courthouse and filing a motion against this eviction notice. At the very least, that should buy us an additional sixty to ninety days.”

      “And then what?” How could they prove Beau Trahan pulled such an underhanded scam on her grandfather?

      “What we discover will determine how we’ll proceed.”

      “Mr. Williams,” Grandmere interrupted, “your words are all good, but what’s this gonna cost us?”

      He smiled, his white teeth flashing in contrast to his smooth, black skin. “If you’re interested in me representing you in this matter, how about a one-hundred-dollar retainer and a balance of nine-hundred dollars?”

      CoCo grabbed her purse. “That sounds fine. Should I pay that retainer now?” A thousand dollars to make this whole thing go away sounded a lot cheaper than the fee she’d imagined on the drive over. Thank You for Your provision, Lord.

      “You can pay my secretary on your way out.” Dwayne smiled again. “I’ll need to get some more information from you before I can proceed.”

      Luc ran a caressing touch over his saxophone as he placed it back in its case. Playing the horn always brought him inner peace. Not as much as his daily prayer, but for midafternoon it held its own. Now that he’d finished the big consulting job he’d been working on for the past month, he had two weeks free. Felicia’s wheelchair bumped against the sitting-room doorframe. He swiveled to stare at her.

      “He didn’t mean it.” She maneuvered her chair across the gleaming wood floor.

      “I think he did.” He straightened, lifting his sax case.

      “He’ll calm down. You’ll see.”

      How he wished he could believe her. “I need to find him, talk to him. Try to make him understand how I feel.”

      “Luc, when has he ever cared about what any of us feel?” Big tears welled in her crystal blue eyes, and she ducked her head.

      “Hey.” He set the case on the floor and crossed the room to squat before her. “What’d he say to you?” He patted her bare knees.

      “Nothing.” She sniffed and wiped away her tears.

      “Then why are you crying? Come on, Boo, when have you ever not been able to tell me everything?” He crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue, a trick he’d used to cheer her up since they were children.

      She let out a small giggle. “I talked to Frank this morning.”

      “And?” He waggled his eyebrows.

      “It seems Grandfather paid him a little visit yesterday.” She hiccupped. “He told Frank to s-s-stay away from me if he didn’t want to end up in f-f-financial ruin.” Fresh tears pooled in her eyes.

      Luc let out a low whistle. “He sure was a busy man yesterday.” He held his sister’s hands. “What’d Frank say?”

      The smile she flashed sparkled and brightened the entire room, even more so than the floor-to-ceiling windows along one wall. “Frank said he told Grandfather that he could drop dead.”

      “Good for him.” Frank Thibodeaux seemed to be good for his sister. He’d never seen her look happier.

      “Luc, you know how Grandfather is. He’ll set out to ruin Frank if I keep seeing him.”

      “He can’t hold us under his thumb forever.” Luc straightened, staring out the large windows overlooking the bayou. The afternoon sun reflected off the water, casting prisms of light and color across the marshland.

      He turned back to stare at his sister. The large room appeared to swallow her small form. The white paint on every wall in the house screamed purity, always reminding him of Felicia. “You just keep seeing Frank if he makes you happy. I’ll figure something out.”

      “Frank’s so mad, it scares me.”

      Luc glanced at his sister, laying a hand on her shoulder. “Scares you how?”

      “He’s so angry over the way Grandfather treats me. He says Grandfather isn’t allowing me to get new and inventive treatments that could maybe help me. He says

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