Lucky’s Lady

CHAPTER 19

«I MUST SAY, I'M A TRIFLE BAFFLED BY THIS SUDDEN change of heart,» Lamar Canfield drawled, his dark eyes wandering back and forth between the people who had summoned him to Chanson du Terre at such an unseemly hour of the morning. Young people had no sense of propriety. In the days when manners had still been in vogue, no one would have dreamed of calling on a person before nine o'clock.

He stared at the young woman seated behind Gifford Sheridan's massive cherry desk. She looked cool and composed in a forest-green suit with simple straight lines and a champagne silk blouse. There was a single strand of pearls at her throat. Her honey-blond hair was neatly contained at the back in a French twist. Her mouth lifted at the corners in a placid smile, but she twisted the large topaz ring she wore around and around on her finger, giving away her inner tension.

«It's really quite simple, Mr. Canfield,» she said with power of attorney. I am to settle this matter as I see fit. Now, I have examined all the options and taken into consideration all factors, and the only logical, practical conclusion is to sell the property to Mr. Burkes company.»

Lamar shifted in his chair, the leather squeaking and sighing as he crossed his thin legs at the knee. He stared up at a water spot on the ceiling for a moment, then returned his gaze to his hostess, looking as if he were about to speak. He opened his mouth, shut it, frowned darkly for a second.

«Is there some problem, Mr. Canfield?» Len Burke demanded to know. He sat in the matching wing chair three feet from the aged attorney, obviously nursing a hangover. The whites of his eyes-what could be seen of them through his squint-had turned bloodred. The color of his complexion matched the green-brown wrapper of his unlit cigar.

Lamar regarded him with the same condescension he usually reserved for common ruffians. «It seems to me, Mr. Burke, to be a rather abrupt change of loyalties. Why, just the other night Miss Sheridan seemed nothing short of appalled by the prospect of Chanson du Terre falling into your hands.»

Burke scowled at him. «Yeah, well, she's changed her mind. Woman's prerogative.»

«I have changed my mind, Mr. Canfield,» she assured him.

«I see,» Lamar said gravely. He sat forward in his chair, straightening the lapels of his seersucker jacket. «I must say, I am exceedingly disappointed by this, Shelby.»

«Serena,» she hastened to correct him.

«Yes, of course. Serena. I know what your grandfather had hoped to accomplish by giving this responsibility to you. He's going to be very unhappy,» Lamar declared dramatically, shaking his head in disapproval.

Shelby's eyes flashed and the line of her mouth tightened slightly. «Well, it serves him right, if you ask me,» she snapped.

Mason stepped in diplomatically, his innocuous smile spreading like sunshine across his face as he strolled behind the desk. «What Serena means to say, Lamar, is if Gifford is willing to give the power of the decision to someone else, then he must be prepared to face the consequences of that decision.»

«Amen.» Burke hauled a cowhide briefcase the size of a calf onto his lap and popped it open. «Now, can we get on with the paperwork? I have everything drawn up here in the terms we agreed on. All I need is a couple of signatures and we can call it a done deal.»

He extracted a thick sheaf of papers, flipped to the final page, and handed the document across the desk to be signed.

«I'm surprised your sister hasn't come in to witness the transaction,» Lamar said with just the barest edge of sarcasm in his voice as he watched his hostess take up a pen. «Her moment of triumph, so to speak.»

His remark won him a cutting glare, but no comment from the woman behind the desk.

«I'm afraid Shelby is indisposed this morning. She's resting,» Mason said. «One of her migraines. Poor dear, she suffers terribly.»

«Well, I'm sure she deserves it,» Lamar said absently. He regarded the shocked expressions directed at him with bland innocence. «The extra rest,» he clarified. «I'm sure she deserves it.»

From the breast pocket of his suit he extracted a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles that looked as old as he did. He perched them on his nose and squinted down at the document that was thrust before him. The tension level in the room climbed faster than the temperature on a hot July day as one moment stretched into the next and Lamar showed no sign of picking up a pen. His gaze fixed on the signature; he hummed a bit.

«I'll need to see your signature on the power of attorney.» He glanced up and smiled benignly. «A mere formality, of course.»

«Of course. I have it right here.» She slid the paper across the desk and sat back, forearms on the blotter, the fingers of her left hand twisting her topaz ring around and around.

Lamar examined both signatures with painstaking care, humming. «Yes, they appear to match.»

«Of course they match,» Shelby snapped.

«Lamar is only looking out for his client's best interests,» Mason said placidly.

Canfield nodded. «That's right, Serena.»

«Shel-«She clamped her teeth together abruptly and spoke through them. «Shall we get on with it, Mr. Canfield? Mr. Burke is a busy man. I'm sure he'd like to be on his way.»

«That's right,» Burke growled. «Sign it, I'll present the check and get the hell out of here. I've had enough of Lou'siana to last me.»

The venerable old southerner frowned at the Texan. «I can assure you, sir, the feeling is mutual, but I would be entirely remiss in my duties if I did not read the entire document before signing.»

Burke s face flushed a shade that clashed horribly with his bloodshot eyes. Shelby made a little squeal of frustration. Mason cleared his throat carefully and made a steeple with his fingers.

«If you feel it's necessary, Lamar,» he said.

Lamar looked at them all with exaggerated bewilderment. «Well, I'm not entirely certain. Perhaps I should consult with the real Serena.»

The faces of the three went simultaneously white as the door to the study swung open and Serena and Lucky stepped into the room. Shelby's eyes riveted on her sister and she gave a gasp of surprise.

«Serena! But you're supposed to be-«

«Dead?» Serena supplied, barely able to speak the word above a whisper. She couldn't bring herself to look at her twin; but fixed her gaze on Burke as if she might be able to compel him to confess just by looking at him. Her heart was pounding with desperate urgency. It had to be Burke. It had to be.

«No,» Shelby said. «Gone. Out of the way.»

«Is that what Mr. Burke told you? That he'd hired someone to get me out of the way?»

«I don't know what you're talking about,» Burke said belligerently, uncomfortably shifting his bulk in the leather wing chair. «I didn't hire anybody to do anything. Whatever went on was all their idea.» He motioned to Shelby and Mason with a thrust of his cigar.

«I'm sure I don't know anything about anybody getting killed!» Shelby said indignantly, the fingers of her left hand fussing with the pearls at her throat. Color rose to mottle her face with polka dots.

Serena swung toward her sister, a sick foreboding churning in the pit of her stomach. Oh, God, please don't let it be… Shelby's glance hit her squarely for one brief, naked second, then darted off.

«I-I don't know anything about that,» she insisted breathlessly.

«Don't you, Shelby?»

Serena could feel Lucky's presence behind her. She could feel his heat and his anger. He stepped past her and moved with restrained power toward the desk.

«You don't know anything about how Gene Willis and Pou Perret were gonna take your sister, your own flesh and blood, your twin, out into the swamp and rape her and kill her and dump her body where no one would ever find it?» he said, fury strumming through his words. He planted his hands on the desk and leaned across it aggressively. When he spoke again it was in a voice like smoke shot through with strands of steel. «You don't know anything about that, Shelby? Perhaps I can refresh your memory for you.»

Shelby's complexion had gone ashen beneath her makeup. The blush that had been applied with delicate skill across her cheekbones stood out like slashes of red paint. Her eyes were wide with fear. She pressed herself back into her grandfather's chair in an attempt to escape the intensity of the man before her.

«I-I don't know what you're talking about,» she said, her voice trembling. «You're crazy. Everyone says so.»

«Mais yeah, chere, I'm crazy,» Lucky whispered, leaning closer. «There's no tellin' what I might do for revenge.»

Tears sprang into Shelby's eyes.

«Lucky, stop it,» Serena ordered. She was afraid of what Lucky's prodding would uncover. God help her, she was afraid he was right. She wanted with all her heart for him to be wrong. The idea that her own sister wanted her dead cut like a knife in the deepest part of her soul. She didn't want it to be true. She didn't want to have to face it, not after everything else she had been forced to face in the past week. She didn't think she would be able to stand it.

Lucky turned on her, his face tight with fury. «Stop it?» he shouted. «Mon Dieu! She tried to have you murdered!»

«No!» Shelby screamed, slamming her fists down on the desk. «They were supposed to get her out of the way, that's all! Tell them, Mason,» she said, swiveling her chair toward her husband. «You said we'd get her out of the way. You never said anything about murder! Tell them!»

Time seemed to stand still for a second as all eyes turned to Mason Talbot. He stood beside his wife, looking resigned. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his rumpled chinos and rocked back on his heels as he looked down at Shelby.

«Now, peach,» he said in a weary tone. «As usual, you haven't thought ahead. What did you think would happen once Serena returned? Why, she would have ruined everything, of course. We couldn't have her coming back.»

Shelby looked stunned. «But she's my sister!»

«You hate her,» Mason pointed out.

Shelby frowned. «Well, yes, but she's my sister. I wouldn't kill her! Mason, how could you think such a thing?» She admonished him as if he were a naughty child.

«You wanted me in the legislature,» he said, his voice growing tighter. «You wanted to live in Baton Rouge. We don't have the money for those things, Shelby, not with your spending habits and a new house and an old one that hasn't been sold. But you never think about anything as vulgar as money, do you? All you're interested in is getting what you want and damn the cost.

«What the hell was I supposed to do?» he shouted, the calm facade cracking finally under the strain. He stared down at her with a tortured expression. «What was I supposed to do, Shelby? I had it all laid out in front of me, there for the taking, the opportunity to give us everything we wanted in one shot. And you were standing right behind me, pushing and pushing. What was I supposed to do?»

The full import of what they had done and what all the ramifications might have been hit Shelby in that moment. Serena could see comprehension dawn in her sister's eyes as if suddenly revealed to her in a vision. As Mason had said, Shelby hadn't thought ahead. As she had always done, she had planned only as far as the moment, not even considering the long-term consequences. She sat there now, looking like a little girl who had been given an unpleasant surprise-stunned, hurt, disillusioned.

Serena looked away as an expression of horror twisted Shelby's features, and she turned from her husband, buried her face in her hands, and began to sob. Tears rose in Serena's eyes.

«What about Gifford?» Lucky asked, his attention still focused on Mason.

Mason pushed his glasses up on his nose and tried to compose himself. He answered absently, as if he were explaining nothing more earth-shattering than plans for a picnic. «He would have become despondent over Serena's disappearance and the loss of the plantation. Poor man. He probably would have committed suicide.»

Serena listened in stunned silence. She shook her head as a sense of vertigo seized hold of her for an instant. Another facet of her well-ordered life shattered. Mason. Staid, stoical, kind Mason Talbot, a man she had always liked and trusted, had paid to have her killed. He had allowed his greed and his love for Shelby to mutate into an ugly catalyst that had driven him to murder.

«And the fire?» Lucky prodded.

Mason ducked his head. His shoulders sagged. «I believe I've said enough without having my attorney present,» he said softly.

«That's all right, Mason,» Sheriff Hollings said as he sauntered into the room with a pair of deputies at his heels. «I've heard all I need to hear for now.»

Serena watched with a sense of disbelief as the officers each took charge of one perpetrator. Burke protested loudly as handcuffs were slapped on his wrists. Mason said nothing. Shelby fell sobbing across the desk and had to be helped to her feet by the sheriff.

«This is all your fault!» she shouted at Serena as they were being led from the room. Her face was awash in tears and mascara, her mask of beauty melting away to reveal her hate and inner torment. «You never should have come back! None of this would have happened if you hadn't come back!»

There was nothing Serena could think of to say. She stared at her twin and felt a terrible aching hollowness inside. They should have been closer than sisters, but they were poles apart. The only thing left between them now was bitterness and pity and regret.

Lucky came up beside her and put his arm gently around her waist, silently inviting her to lean against his strength. They stood together and watched as the officers herded their prisoners toward the door with the sheriff drawling, «Y'all have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…»

Lamar rose slowly from the leather wing chair, scratching his chest. «I believe I'll go and return this little microphone to Sheriff Hollings. Simply amazing the technology the police have at their disposal these days.» He gave Serena an apologetic look and patted her shoulder with a wrinkled hand. «I truly am sorry, my dear, about all that's happened here today. What a terrible shock it must be to you.»

«Yes,» Serena murmured. «Thank you for your help, Mr. Canfield.»

«Don't mention it. I was merely performing my civic duty. If you need any further assistance, don't hesitate to call.» He rolled his eyes heavenward and heaved a dramatic sigh. «I may have every appearance of a dotty old codger, but I believe I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.»

Serena managed a pale smile as she watched the elderly lawyer stroll gracefully into the hall, Panama hat in hand. She listened as he exchanged a few lines of banter with Odille on his way out. Then the house fell into silence.

She could feel the power of Lucky's gaze on her as she went to the French doors. Trying to block the sound of departing squad cars from her mind, she looked through the panes of glass past the gallery, across the lawn. The bayou was a dark ribbon at the feet of the trees. The sky was a turbulent patchwork of rapidly changing cloud formations and patches of blue; it looked as unsettled as she felt.

She felt as if her life had been thrust into the winds of a hurricane. Everything had blown apart- her family, her image of herself, her sense of control over her own destiny-everything lay in fragments around her and she didn't know where to begin to pick up the pieces. She had come here for a few days of vacation. Instead, her life had been irreparably altered; she had been irreparably altered.

«What happens now?» Serena heard herself ask the question, but it felt as if it had come from someone else. She couldn't imagine why it would have come from her; she didn't think she really wanted to hear Lucky s answer.

«There'll be a hearing,» he said, deliberately choosing the mundane interpretation of the question. «They'll be charged. Bail will be set-for Burke and Shelby at least.»

Serena glanced back at Lucky. He was sitting back against the desk, turning a smooth glass paperweight over in his hands, his gaze steady on her.

«I never would have suspected Mason,» she murmured. «Never.»

«No one would have.» He put the paperweight down and came to stand behind her at the glass doors, his face grave. «No one can guess the kind of things pressure can drive a man to do,» he said softly. «I'm sorry about Shelby, Serena. I have my own grievance with her, but I know she's your sister and it must hurt.»

Tears stung Serena's eyes as she nodded. «I always wished we would have been as close as twins are supposed to be. We never were. Now we never will be. What's happened will always be between us.»

Lucky slid his arms around her and leaned down to lass her cheek. «I told Hollings I'd take a deputy out to where we left Willis and Perret.»

Serena nodded, rubbing her hands over her upper arms as if to warm herself through the fabric of the soft faded chambray shirt she had borrowed from Lucky's wardrobe. It hung to her knees, and she had needed to fold the cuffs back five times to reveal her ruined silk blouse and the memories attached to it. She hadn't been able to look at that pile of clothing without shuddering. Lucky had taken the garments outside and burned them, then loaned her his shirt and a pair of old gray sweat pants.

«I suppose I should go and change,» she said. «You'll be wanting your shirt back.»

«Keep it.»

The words seemed innocuous enough, but Serena felt what was coming as surely as if he had just held up a red flag. This was it. This was going to be the moment Lucky chose to end it. He would say good-bye and ride off into the swamp without looking back, and she would be left with a broken heart and an old blue workshirt.

«A souvenir?» she asked dryly, looking up at him over her shoulder. «Something I can pack away in my hope chest and take out whenever I want to remember you fondly?»

Lucky stepped back, frowning. «Serena, don't.»

«Don't what?» She arched one golden brow. «Don't remember you fondly? Don't remember you at all? You want me to pretend I never fell in love with you? Is that what you're going to do, Lucky? Pretend you never told me you loved me?»

«I told you from the beginning what we could have.»

She held up both hands to ward off his words. Anger rushed into her head and pounded like mallets in her temples. «Don't you try to feed me that line again. I'm ready to gag on it! I don't care what boundaries we set. I don't care that it's been only a matter of days. What we have goes way beyond sex, and you know it.»

«I know it can't work,» he insisted, glaring at her.

She returned his hard gaze, matching his stubbornness ounce for ounce. «You won't let it work.»

Lucky spun away, his hands raised as if to strangle somebody as his temper surged. She was going to make this as difficult as possible for them both. She wouldn't just accept the facts and meekly walk away. No, no, she would tear them all apart and analyze them and try to find a cure.

«Dammit, Serena, you saw what happened out there last night,» he said tightly. He stared down at his boots because he was too ashamed to look her in the eye. «Is that the kind of man you want for a husband? Next time I might just slip off that edge.»

«I saw what happened,» Serena said softly, aching for him. «And I saw you get through it. You saved my life. And I watched you take care of me afterward, and I was there when you made love to me too. What happened with Willis doesn't make me love you less, Lucky. If anything, it makes me love you more.»

Lucky shook his head impatiently as he paced before her. «That's not love. That's pity. I know what you see when you look at me, Serena-some poor, crazy bastard who needs someone to take care of him.»

«Damn you, Lucky Doucet,» Serena snarled. She came around in front of him and grabbed the waistband of his jeans to keep him from walking away. She glared up at him, her face scratched and bruised, fury in her eyes. «I will thank you to stop interpreting my feelings for me. I don't pity you, you pity yourself. You're so damn proud and stubborn, you can't bear the idea that you're not perfect, that you have flaws and frailties like everyone else. You make me mad as hell, but I love you. You're strong and good and tender under all that macho bullshit. And you love me. Look me in the eye and tell me you don't.»

He knew he should have done it, but he couldn't.

He couldn't look down into that beautiful battered face and tell her he didn't love her, when he loved her more than life. But he couldn't give her what she deserved either.

«I can't give you the kind of life you deserve.»

«I deserve to have the man I love.»

«I live in the swamp,» he said. «I can't tolerate people. I'm lucky if I get through a day without comin' half unglued. What kind of future can I give you? What do I have to offer you, Serena?»

Her answer was simple and devastating. «Your heart.»

Lucky closed his eyes like a man in pain.

«Don't try to tell me you don't have one. You're just afraid to give it,» Serena said, tears rising again to tighten her throat and sting the backs of her eyes. «I know what it is to be afraid, Lucky,» she whispered.

He shook his head, refusing to look at her, the muscles of his jaw working.

«Yes,» Serena insisted. She stared up at him earnestly, her heart in her eyes. «I know how it feels. I know what it's like to feel it take hold and let it control you. I also know I could help you conquer it-not because I'm a psychologist, but because I'm the woman who loves you.»

«I've got to go,» he muttered, looking away, his face a taut, unreadable mask.

Serena felt futility pull down on her like a weight. He wasn't going to give in. He was going to withdraw into himself and close the door on her as he had countless times in the past few days, and none of the tools of her trade would be able to pry it open. Her love was the only key she had, and Lucky was making it clear not even that would unlock the chains that bound him in his past.

«Hiding isn't the answer, Lucky,» she said sadly. «You're a good man, a strong man, a man with talents. You've got so much to offer if you'll only stop running from who you really are.»

«Let me go, Serena,» he said softly. «You'll be better off.»

She stepped back from him, lifting her chin defiantly as she tried to sniff back her tears. «You think you're doing this for me? Your nobility is sadly misplaced. I don't want it. I want a future with you. We could have so much more than you're willing to give us, Lucky. You let me know when you're ready to accept that. I'll be here waiting.»

Lucky's gaze sharpened on her. «You're not goin' back to Charleston?»

«No.» Serena hadn't been certain of an answer until that very second, but it came out strong and sure, the only decision she could have made. «I'll have to go back to settle my affairs, but that's all. Chanson du Terre is my home. I have responsibilities here, and roots. It's time I faced that and accepted myself for who I am inside instead of who I am in Charleston. I'm all through being a coward. You let me know when you are.»

She gave him one last long look, then started for the door.

A deputy stuck his head in the open doorway. «Hey, Lucky, the boat's here. You ready to go?»

Serena stopped and stood there, waiting to hear his answer as if it were the answer to the question in her heart. The silence dragged on.

«Yeah,» he said at last, his voice soft and heavy. «Let's get outta here.»