A Bad Boy is Good to Find - By Jennifer Lewis Page 0,67
my gosh, did we win the Powerball?”
“No, no, nothing like that, I’m afraid,” said Con. “Sorry to get your hopes up.” He held his hand out, and she shook it gently as he spoke. “I’m Conroy Beale. I used to live just up the road.” He indicated the direction with a nod. “This is Lizzie, my… fiancée.” Fists clenched, Lizzie looked ready to explode with tension. “We’re visiting the place where I grew up, part of a TV show they’re doing on our wedding.” He pointed to Dino and Maisie.
The baby started fussing.
“I’m Charlene. Pleased to meet you. Um, won’t you come in?” Her expression was turning to one of alarm.
“Oh, that’s okay, we don’t want to impose, but would you mind if I ask you a couple of questions?”
“Um, sure.” She shifted the baby on her hip and pushed her fingertip in its mouth. She had long dark hair and skinny shoulders. The baby was a curly blonde cutie with fat thighs.
“How long have you lived here?” Damn, he sounded like Maisie.
“About five years now. My husband works a shrimp boat down the bayou.”
An irrational flare of hope soared through Con. “What’s your husband’s name?” Danny?
“Luke LeBlanc.” His heart sank. “He won’t be home for a couple of days. He’s lived around here longer than me. I’m from Thibodaux originally.”
Con racked his brain. Luke LeBlanc didn’t ring any bells.
“Do you know what happened to the people who used to live down there?” He cocked his thumb back up the road.
She shook her head and pursed her lips. “Nobody’s lived down there long as I’ve been here. Too wet now, I guess. The whole area’s sinking. Luke says we’ll have to move sooner or later.” The baby let out a cry of distress, and she moved it to her other hip. “You should talk to Mr. Gaudry up the road. He’s been here for ever.”
Con nodded. “Thanks. I remember him. He still shoot squirrels if they get up on his roof?”
She chuckled and bit her lip. “Yup. Shoots pretty much anything. He’s a mean old cuss. Hates kids.” She lifted the baby higher.
“Hasn’t changed then.” Con smiled at her. “Your baby’s very cute.”
“Thanks.”
He managed to get out an awkward goodbye and their entourage backed away to the cars.
Lizzie was white as a sheet. What was she all worked up about? This cozy little homecoming was all her idea. “You look like you’re about to pass out. Are you running a fever or something?”
“No.” she shook her head. Her gelled curls bounced around her shoulders.
“Your lipstick’s smudged. Let me fix it.” He reached into his pocket for a tissue, and wiped a smear off her upper lip. “Joe Gaudry shot our pig.” He glanced at Dino, who still had the camera trained on them. “I told you we had a pig, right?”
“Yes, I think you did.” Her lips tightened.
“Didn’t have it for long.” He pushed the tissue back into his pocket. “My dad won it in a poker game. It was just a baby. Danny and I caught food for it, fenced it in with sticks. It was a smart creature, I tell you.” He tilted his head. “Affectionate too. Kind of a like a pet. Anyway, we had it a couple of months, and it was getting big. It got too strong for our fence, broke out and ran off up the road when no one was around. It got into Joe Gaudry’s garden—he was proud of his peppers—and he shot it.” Lizzie’s moue of distaste gave him grim satisfaction. “My mom cooked it, but I couldn’t eat it.”
Lizzie looked away.
Aw, but sweetheart, I’m just giving you what you want. Did he feel sorry for her right now? Not really. He was working hard to hold himself together and being mean helped. Now he could see why Lizzie was so mean to him all the time.
“What a colorful story,” said Maisie, after a short pause.
“Yeah, that’s why I told it.” He didn’t smile. “I figured you’d want some color.”
Joe Gaudry must be about a million years old, he tried to reassure himself as they pulled up in front of his house. Of course, that wouldn’t necessarily affect his trigger finger. Funny how those old fears came crowding back, even though there was pretty much no way old Joe was going to point a shotgun at him with a camera present.
He half hoped Joe would be out, but the sound of a radio blasting Cajun music put paid to that idea