Unsolved Bayou Murder, page 5
Thomas looked at Peyton. “You called this meeting and I don’t have much time, so what’s this all about?”
“I’d like to get a copy of your murder book in the Lacy Dupree case,” Peyton said.
“Why? That case was closed years ago,” Thomas replied in obvious surprise.
“I believe my client here was innocent when he was convicted of the murder,” Peyton said.
Thomas stared at her for a long moment and then sat back in his chair and released a deep laugh. “Your client? Oh, this is rich,” he finally said. “He got to you again. Peyton, your parents were embarrassed and heartbroken when you were running around town with Beau years ago and now here you are, at it again.”
The mirth on Thomas’s face suddenly transformed into a self-righteous anger and he slammed his hands down on the table. “I’ll tell you right now, that was a clean investigation. We followed the evidence and all of it led directly to your client.”
Beau’s muscles bunched. He wanted to reach across the table and punch the man in the face, not for the way he was speaking about Beau, but rather for the things he’d said to Peyton. However, he knew he had to stay calm for her. If he lost his temper now, he’d ruin everything.
“If you’re so sure of your investigation then you shouldn’t mind sharing the murder book with me,” Peyton replied smoothly.
Beau had never seen Peyton in this capacity before. Clad in a crisp white blouse and a pair of black slacks, she looked cool and professional. She was self-confident and poised and he found this side of her sexy as hell.
Thomas released a deep sigh. “I’ll have to have somebody dig it out of the records department,” he said begrudgingly. “That file has been put away for a lot of years.”
“I’d really appreciate it and I’d like to have it on my desk sometime tomorrow,” Peyton said, her voice firm.
“I’ll see what I can do. Are we done here? I’ve got another murder investigation to tend to,” Thomas said.
“Another murder?” Peyton asked curiously. She hadn’t heard about any other murders in town.
“Babette Pitre was murdered two nights ago. Her body was found in the alley between the post office and town hall. Her throat was ripped out and right now we’re in the middle of that investigation.”
“Do you have any clues?” Beau asked. He knew the Pitre family and had vague memories of Babette as a little girl.
“Your folk seem to think it’s the work of the Honey Island Swamp Monster,” Thomas replied to Beau.
Your folk. That spoke volumes to Beau, and a wave of anger rose up inside him toward the man he believed had rushed to judgment in Lacy’s murder case. Peyton apparently sensed his rising emotion, for she placed a steadying hand on his arm.
“Then we’ll let you get back to your investigation,” Peyton said. “But I still expect that murder book on my desk sometime tomorrow.” She rose and Beau also got up from his chair. “We appreciate your time, Chief Gravois.”
Minutes later they were back in Peyton’s car and heading back to her office. “That jerk,” Beau finally said, breaking the silence that had momentarily existed between them. “I thought you were going to ask him some questions about his investigation.”
“I was, but I realized I can get everything I need to know about the investigation from his murder book. It will hold photographs of the crime scene and all interviews that were conducted and witness statements. It will also have the autopsy and forensic reports.”
“Then I look forward to seeing that book,” Beau replied. “Maybe someplace in those files will be the information to clear my name and point to the real killer.”
“Speaking of killing, who or what is the Honey Island Swamp Monster?” she asked. “I’ve never heard of it before.”
“That’s because the creature isn’t here around our swamps, but rather supposedly in the Honey Island area. According to the legend, the creature is an abandoned child raised by alligators. ‘My folk,’” he said the words sarcastically and then continued, “the Cajuns, call the creature loup-garou, which means werewolf.”
“So what does this so-called creature look like?” she asked with a curious glance at him.
“He’s about seven feet tall and weighs around four hundred pounds. He’s covered in dingy gray hair and has large, amber-colored eyes. He’s three-toed and emits a horrendous stench. Now that I think about it, it’s very possible Chief Gravois might be a direct descendant of the beast.”
Peyton laughed. It was the first real burst of laughter he’d heard from her, and it reminded him of how often they had laughed together in the past. “You are so bad,” she finally replied. “I suspect Babette was killed by a monster of the human variety.”
“That would be my guess as well,” he said.
She pulled up at the curb in front of her office and they got out of the car. They had only gone about three steps when her phone rang. She looked at the caller ID. “I need to take this really quick,” she said to Beau. “You can go on inside and I’ll catch up with you.”
Before Beau could move away, he heard her answer her phone. “Hi, Sam.” Her voice was low and pleasant and a swift, unexpected wave of jealousy punched through Beau.
He walked away, wondering who the hell Sam was. On an intelligent level he knew it was none of his business, but on a visceral, emotional level he wanted to know every man she had ever dated, every man who had been her lover since him.
He went into the building and Kylie jumped up from her desk. He motioned her back down with a smile. “Peyton’s outside on the phone and will be in shortly. By the way, do you know who Sam is?”
“That would probably be Sam Landry,” Kylie replied.
“And who is Sam Landry to Peyton?” he pressed.
“He’s a nice man...a very respectable banker and uh...he and Peyton have been dating a little bit.”
“Ah, good to know,” Beau replied even as that niggle of jealousy swept through him again. “I’ll just wait for her inside.” He walked on through into her office and sank down in the chair facing the desk.
He’d had fifteen years to think about Peyton; fifteen years of wanting her again. Even though he’d felt betrayed by her and had been angry that she’d so easily believed him guilty of the murder, he’d counted down the days until he would see her again.
For him, life had stopped when he’d been arrested, but he now realized that, of course, life hadn’t stopped for her. How serious was her relationship with this Sam?
How many other men had held her in their arms, tasted the sweet honey of her lips? How many other men had watched her eyes flash and darken with unbridled passion?
He sat up straighter in the chair as she came into the room and sat behind the desk. “Sorry about that,” she said.
“Did the good, respectable banker ask you out for another date?” he asked, unable to help himself.
She froze and stared at him. Then she shook her head and released a small, dry laugh. “I see my trusty assistant has a big mouth.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” He got up out of the chair and propped his hip on the edge of her desk.
Her cheeks flushed a soft pink. “It’s really none of your business, Beau.”
“Kylie said you’ve been dating the good Sam. Is it something serious?” His heart accelerated its beat. Her answer suddenly seemed exceedingly important to him.
“We’ve only gone out a couple of times,” she replied.
“Have you slept with him yet?” he asked.
“Definitely none of your business,” she replied sharply.
“I was just wondering if when he kisses you, do you moan in the back of your throat like you used to do with me? Does he know about that spot just behind your ear? The place where when I used to kiss you there, you’d writhe beneath me and moan my name?”
“Stop,” she hissed angrily. “Stop it right now. And get off my desk.” He laughed and returned to the chair. Peyton’s blue eyes fired with anger, but in the very depths of them he saw something more...the sweet familiar flame of desire.
“You have to stop it, Beau. I can’t work with you if you’re trying to seduce me all the time.”
“But you are so beautifully seducible,” he said.
“I mean it, Beau. You have to stop. You’re a client and as my client all I need from you is your honesty and your respect. Nothing more.”
He sobered. “You have my utter respect, Peyton, and I will always be honest with you.” Perhaps this was the way to her heart, instead of the seduction path he’d been on.
Then he wondered why he wanted to get into her heart in the first place. How could he ever love again the woman who, even for a moment, had believed he’d committed a heinous murder?
Chapter Four
Peyton leaned back in her chair and rubbed her tired eyes. A glance at the clock on the wall let her know it was after seven. She should have gone home several hours ago, but the murder book had finally arrived at her office at five, and since that time she had been completely engrossed in it.
She’d sent both Kylie and Beau home a couple of hours earlier. Thankfully, the murder book had arrived after they’d left the office. She found it difficult to concentrate when Beau was around. He was both a pain in her behind and a strange hitch in her heart.
Since he’d walked back into her life, she felt off center and overly emotional. He was forcing her to remember things she’d believed she’d shoved out of her head forever. He was making her feel that old breathless anticipation, the sweet flood of desire she used to feel for him. And she didn’t want that. She didn’t want him, she told herself over and over again.
She jumped at the sound of a knock on the building door. She got up from her desk and went into the reception area. Peeking out the window, she saw Jackson on the front stoop.
Quickly, she unlocked the door and ushered him inside. “Burning the midnight oil?” he asked.
“It’s not exactly midnight, but I got caught up in something and lost track of the time.” She ushered him into her office and he sat in the chair opposite her.
“Must be interesting for you to still be here at this time of night,” he said. “A new case?”
“Actually, I’ve been reading the files from Chief Gravois on the Lacy Dupree murder case.”
Jackson raised an eyebrow. “Any surprises?”
“A thousand.” She sat back in her chair and frowned. “Chief Gravois insisted to me yesterday that it was a clean investigation, but it was practically no investigation at all. You know who the star witness was?”
“Who?”
“Louis Rivet,” she replied.
“Really??” Jackson shook his head. “That man hasn’t been sober for the last twenty-five years.”
“Well, that was the prosecutor’s star witness. He testified that Beau left the motel minutes after Lacy’s time of death. He was innocent, Jackson. I believe Beau was really an innocent man when he was charged and convicted for the crime.”
Jackson looked at her with surprise. “And you’re sure about that?”
She thought about her conversation with Beau in the motel room and everything she had just read and seen in the murder book. “I’m positive,” she replied. “I think there was a rush to justice, and I suspect Beau probably had an incompetent lawyer, among other things. I’ll know more about the counsel that represented him once I get the official trial documents.”
“So if he really was innocent, then what happens next?”
“We need to find some new evidence that could overturn his conviction and get him a new trial,” she replied.
“Whether he’s innocent or not, I hope you aren’t allowing him to get back into your head on a personal level.” Jackson held her gaze.
“Trust me. I have it all under control.” She would never admit to anyone how deeply Beau’s touch still affected her, how his sensual smile still had the ability to weaken her knees and heat her blood. “So far we have a good working relationship and that’s all it is.”
“I’ve heard that the two of you have been seen around town. Gossip tongues are wagging.”
She laughed. “Gossip tongues are always wagging in this town. I’ve never cared much what they are wagging about.”
“A lot of people aren’t very happy Beau has come back here.”
“Where else would he go? This is his home,” she replied.
“Have you heard from Sam since your last date?” Jackson asked, changing the subject.
“He called me yesterday.”
“He’s a good man. The two of you could make quite a power couple,” Jackson observed.
“I do like him but we’re taking things slow right now,” she replied. “I intend to marry once and once only, so I don’t want to make any mistakes. Now, what’s going on in your love life?”
“I seem to be going through a bit of a dry spell,” he said. “The women I ask out bore me. It’s as if they’re all cut out by the same cookie cutter. They’re nice and sophisticated and absolutely boring.”
“You’ve got to keep trying. You know you aren’t getting any younger, Jackson.”
“Don’t remind me,” he replied with a wince.
“You just have to find that special someone, Jackson. I know you’d be a wonderful husband and an amazing father.”
“And you are only a year younger than me, and you aren’t getting any younger, either,” Jackson replied. “It’s time for you to settle down, get married and have a couple of kids. Sam has told me he adores you. He’d make you a good husband.”
“Duly noted,” she replied.
“Well, I was just driving by and saw the lights on, but I was on the way to my parents’ place for dinner.” He stood. “Are you ready to leave? If so, I’ll walk you out.”
“Actually, I think I’ll hang out here a little while longer. I want to finish up making some notes while things are still fresh in my mind,” she replied. She got up as well. “But I’ll walk you to the front door.”
Minutes later Peyton was back at her desk, this time her thoughts filled with Sam Landry. Sam was a pleasantly handsome man. He was tall, with brown hair and hazel eyes. He had a kind face to match his kind personality.
She liked him and enjoyed his company, but so far there had been no real sparks with him. There was nothing even close to what she’d once felt for Beau. Of course, she’d been young and inexperienced when she’d first been with Beau.
But that doesn’t explain how he still makes you feel, a little voice whispered inside her head. Memories...surely, that was all that was at play with Beau. She was no longer that young woman who had believed that he had hung the moon and stars.
Maybe she would never experience the feelings she’d once felt for Beau with any other man. Maybe she was a fool to even expect those kinds of fireworks again.
She returned her attention to making notes about what she’d read in the murder book. When she was finished, darkness had fallen outside. She stifled a yawn, locked up the files in her bottom desk drawer and then got ready to leave.
Tomorrow she would read through the files once again, looking for anything she missed the first time around. She also wanted to talk to Beau about seeing if he could find Lacy’s friend Angel.
Maybe the woman would know something about who Lacy had intended to blackmail. Peyton believed that person was the real killer, and she would bet that person was still here in town. It ticked her off to know a murderer was still walking the streets freely and believing they’d gotten away with the horrendous crime.
She left the building and locked up. The night air was heavy and thick with heat and humidity. The sidewalks were deserted as she made her way to her car parked on the next block against the curb.
She reached her car and clicked the button on her key chain to unlock it. However, before she could even open the driver’s door, she was shoved violently against it from behind.
A hard body held her in place against the hot metal of the car door as her brain worked to process what was happening. A burst of adrenaline filled her. She struggled in an attempt to get free, but he only shoved harder against her.
She knew it was a man. He breathed hard against the back of her neck. She could smell his sour perspiration and her heart beat frantically as fear raced through her. Who was doing this to her and why?
“W-what do you want?” she finally asked with a gasp. She prayed it was just a robbery and not anything else. “I have about a hundred dollars in cash in my purse. Let me go and I’ll give it all to you.”
“I don’t want your damned money. Drop your investigation and let Lacy Dupree rest in peace.” The voice was a deep growl that she didn’t recognize. “Let sleeping dogs lie. This is a warning to you.” He suddenly slammed his fist into the side of her face and then released her.
Pain seared through her cheek, dizzying all her senses. As she slumped against the side of the car, she heard his footsteps running away. She managed to get into the car and quickly locked the doors.
Dear God, what had just happened? She raised a hand to her cheek, the pain still throbbing with a breathless intensity. As the adrenaline that had momentarily filled her ebbed away, tears of residual fear and pain sprang to her eyes.
Who was that man? She should probably call the police and make a report, but she wouldn’t be able to tell them anything about the man who had just assaulted her. All she knew for sure was that it had been a male.
It had all happened so fast. Even now she was having trouble processing what had just happened. She should have turned around to see him as he ran away. At least then she would have been able to give law enforcement a description of his general height and weight and maybe even a hair color. But she hadn’t done that and so she saw no point in making a report.
