Into The Mist: A LaShaun Rousselle Mystery (LaShaun Rousselle Mysteries Book 4) Read online

  More LaShaun Rousselle Mysteries

  A Darker Shade of Midnight

  Between Dusk and Dawn

  Only By Moonlight

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  All names, characters, stories, and incidents featured in this novel are imaginary. They are not inspired by any individual person, incidents or events known or unknown to the author. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is coincidental.

  Lache pas la patate

  (Don’t Give Up)

  Chapter 1

  At almost six o’clock in the morning, LaShaun and Chase were up, ready for the day. Chase hadn’t yet put on his Vermilion Parish Sheriff’s uniform. The royal blue shirt with the department logo in gold thread still hung over the door of their bedroom. Instead he wore dark denim jeans with his favorite sweatshirt. LaShaun padded about in fuzzy slippers and her own cotton sweats. Her thick hair was pulled back into a single braid down her back. Despite her work-at-home attire, she wore her favorite small gold hoop earrings.

  “What is it with these gloomy days?” Chase muttered as he looked out through the bay window of their breakfast nook. “I’m so ready for spring.”

  “Well, you’ll be waiting a few months yet. We’re just digesting Thanksgiving dinner, darlin’. By the way, drag that box of Christmas decorations out of the attic for me.” LaShaun continued humming as she fed mangoes, plums and peeled apples into the food processor.

  “Yeah, sure.” Chase took his empty breakfast plate to the dishwasher and put it in. He leaned against the counter watching her in silence.

  “What?” LaShaun said without pausing in her task.

  “You really serious about making all of the kid’s food,” Chase said.

  “Stop calling her ‘The Kid’. She has a perfectly lovely name. I picked it out myself. Joëlle Renée Broussard. See how it rolls off the tongue.” LaShaun smiled. Almost four years after her birth, LaShaun could not help but feel wonder at the little blessing.

  “I’m not going to say that mouthful every time I talk to her. Ellie is just fine.” Chase poured his second full cup of hot coffee.

  “Even your mother complains when you call her ‘The Kid’.” LaShaun poured the fruit concoction into a jar. She shot him an amused sideways glance. “I think you do it to annoy Queen Bee.”

  “Nah, I wouldn’t deliberately irritate my dear mother. Even if she does take every chance to make snide remarks about you.” Chase frowned. “Over a year and she’s still tossing attitude about us our way.”

  LaShaun put the jars of baby food into the refrigerator and closed the door. Wiping her hands on a dishtowel, she faced her husband. “I’m sorry about your mama, babe. I…”

  Chase put down his coffee cup and used one long muscular arm to pull LaShaun against his chest. “Don’t apologize. My mother’s narrow-mindedness is the problem, not you. Everyone knows you’re perfect in every way.”

  “Oh sure they do,” LaShaun blurted out with a laugh. She titled her head up to kiss his chin. “The folks who think I’m a wicked voodoo priestess who chops off the heads of chickens under a full moon.”

  “We do happen to have a freezer full of chicken parts,” Chase quipped. He chuckled when she tapped the end of his nose with her forefinger.

  LaShaun playfully pushed him away. “Keep your job in law enforcement. Comedy is not your calling, Chief Deputy Broussard.”

  “I should finish up chores around the homestead before I head off to the substation. The gloomy weather won’t help the mood around there.” Chase picked up his coffee again.

  “Ugly huh?” LaShaun said.

  “As only a battle between drug dealers can be.” Chase went to the mud room where they kept garden boots, jackets and gloves.

  “I saw the morning news on KTL-NBC. That woman is cut up bad they said, in critical condition. I hope she survives to tell y’all what really happened.” LaShaun walked closer so she could hear.

  “Violent meth head, cycle of abuse that turns deadly. He’s on the run.” Thumping came as Chase moved items around preparing for his chores.

  “Hmm, sounds straight-forward enough.”

  LaShaun silently said a prayer of safety for her family. She and Chase took great pains to keep the darkness of his work and LaShaun’s past brushes with supernatural evil away from their home life. They needed to protect Ellie for as long as possible. Maybe she could have a few years of seeing the world as bright and wonderful before… LaShaun shook off the thought of what could lay ahead for her child.

  “Hey, babe. We haven’t made a decision about the dog yet,” LaShaun said, eager to change the subject back to mundane family matters.

  “What dog?” Chase called back.

  “Don’t try it. You agreed that Ellie would enjoy having a pet. Plus, a dog would be great company for us while you work long hours fighting crime.” LaShaun poured the baby’s cereal into a pot of boiling water and stirred.

  “We’ve got an alarm system in the house and one outside. Unless you plan on getting a mean junkyard Rottweiler, I don’t see the point.” Chase strolled back into the kitchen, work gloves tucked into his waistband.

  “Studies show a barking dog is a deterrent to burglars, and what alarm system outside?” LaShaun looked at him.

  “Our neighbors. Betty Marchand doesn’t miss a thing going on over here, and her husband will pull out his shotgun in a minute. Oh, and he installed a couple of cameras to cover his barn and the back field behind their house. A few animals have been stolen in the past month or so.” Chase grabbed a large trash bag from a drawer. He emptied the kitchen garbage bin into it.

  “Humph, Xavier, Sr. isn’t that jumpy. Besides, only a few chickens wandered off. Nosy Betty had him put up the cameras. You can bet she’s scanning our property on the regular.” LaShaun waved the large spoon as she talked.

  Chase laughed. “Well, you have given her reasons to be… curious.”

  “Hey, not my fault some crazy cult decided the Rousselle family cemetery is supernatural ground zero.” LaShaun gave a snort and went back to stirring.

  “Which reminds me, I ran a query a few days ago. The ring leader of Juridicus hasn’t surfaced yet.”

  “Juridicus spread the kind of mayhem and violence y’all dealing with right now. I wonder…” LaShaun squinted ahead as though the tile above her cooktop held clues.

  “Meth and some of these other designer drugs cause wild side effects. Some of the crime scenes look like horror movie sets. Jabbing holes in themselves, tearing chunks of flesh out of other people, violent psychotic stuff. Screaming at demons or gargoyles,” Chase replied, “nothing supernatural.”

  “Juridicus has a positive genius for staying invisible.”

  “Their leader is gone. The rest of the members are either on the run with him, in jail or dead. At least around Vermilion Parish and New Orleans.”

  LaShaun frowned. “Their headquarters still exist.”

  “He wasn’t charged with a crime, so forget a search warrant. I can’t justify the time and expense of doing an extensive search. Dave would have questions I couldn’t answer.”

  Sheriff Dave Godchaux, more politician than lawman, had won election to office just shy of two years ago. He was a nice enough guy, but tended to be a stickler for playing by the rules. He wanted to keep the mayor and others happy. Talk of cults in Vermilion Parish would most definitely not accomplish that goal. Tourists to the lush swamps, grassy prairies and serene bayous didn’t care for the idea they might end up as sacrificial offerings.

  “Maybe I�
��ll try.” LaShaun murmured. She stared into the bubbling rice cereal.

  “We shut down his crew, so he’s lost his power I figure. I mean, he had those cult members convinced he couldn’t be stopped. Now they know better, so they’ve scattered.”

  “They won’t give up so easily. Like the old folks say, the devil stays busy.” LaShaun jumped when Chase spoke right over her shoulder into her ear.

  “No. Don’t go looking for their kind of trouble.”

  “But I could…”

  “And you’re going to scorch Ellie’s cereal,” Chase added. He reached around her and turned off the burner beneath the pot. Then he turned LaShaun around until she faced him. “No internet search, no tapping into your fortune teller buddies, no nothing.”

  “They’re not fortune tellers,” LaShaun shot back.

  “We squashed Juridicus like roaches, okay. They’re finished. Let sleeping dogs lie,” Chase said firmly.

  “Fine. I won’t look for Neal Montgomery,” LaShaun huffed when Chase’s dark Cajun gaze didn’t waver, “or anything about the Juridicus crew. You know me too well.”

  “Exactly.” Chase nodded before he turned to his task again. He grabbed the bag.

  “Speaking of dogs…”

  “Start thinking about what breed you might like. Since you want to research something, look at dogs good around kids,” Chase replied as he headed to the back door.

  “Smart advice. No wonder I keep you around,” LaShaun teased.

  “You didn’t marry me for my brains, woman. Admit it.” Chase winked at her with a saucy half grin.

  LaShaun put the spoon back into the pot of cereal. “That turned out to be a bonus, but the rest of the goods did pull me.” Before she reached him, Ellie’s voice came from the baby monitor on the granite counter top.

  “You’ve got a hungry kid to feed, and I’ve got house chores.” Chase laughed at the scowl LaShaun gave him. “Hey, you wanted a regular family life. Welcome to reality.”

  She gave a melodramatic sigh. “Romance is on the backburner. Go on. Hey, check the propane tank level while you’re at it.”

  “Wow, you went from seductress to drill sergeant real fast.” Chase gave her a sharp salute.

  Ellie’s baby voice got louder through the monitor. Her soft whining threatened to erupt into a full-fledged howl. LaShaun moved quickly to pour cereal into the warm bowl. Then she poured juice into a cup with a built-in straw. Ellie’s fussing became more insistent with each passing second.

  “I may be the sergeant, but we all know who the general is running this show,” LaShaun murmured.

  She gave the high chair one final swipe with a clean damp cloth, then headed for Ellie’s room. LaShaun smiled as she looked ahead to her usual morning routine. The scent of baby lotion mixed with the smell of food cooking. Having a regular life suited her just fine.

  As she got closer to Ellie’s room LaShaun felt the familiar prickle along her arms. The physical sensation acted as her biological alarm system. Ellie’s voice had gone from irritable to light chatter. She spoke, paused and babbled again. The sounds came through the open nursery door just opposite the master bedroom.

  “Ba-ba, weee. Mama come.”

  Caution won over LaShaun’s mother instinct to call out to her. Being part of the Rousselle bloodline meant life would be different for Ellie. Yet surely they had more time. It couldn’t be this early. LaShaun paused, then hurried her steps down the hallway.

  “Mama is here.”

  Dressed in her pink pajama onesie, Ellie stood holding onto the rails of her white toddler bed. Chase’s father had customized it by painting baby animals on the headboard and footboards. Ellie wore a calm expression as she pointed to a corner. LaShaun scanned the room from the doorway. Nothing out of place. Then LaShaun saw movement out of the corner of one eye. She glanced sharply and gasped. Curtains of pale yellow and green strips billowed softly out from the window.

  “I didn’t leave this cracked last night, did I? Maybe daddy opened it this morning. The heat did work overtime last night.” LaShaun chattered over Ellie’s baby talk in an attempt to reassure herself. She shut the window with a firm thud. “That had to be it.”

  “Daddy out.” Ellie pointed to the window as though countering her mother’s argument. “My Daddy.” Ellie continued a sing-song repetition about her daddy. Then she clapped her hands.

  “Who were you talking to, hmmm? Who was my Joëlle Renée talking to so early in the morning?” LaShaun crossed to the bed and picked Ellie up.

  “Ma-ma-ma,” Ellie murmured. Then her cute face twisted into distress. “Hungry, mama.”

  “Yes, yes. We’re going to get some yummy into that tummy right now. Here we go to the kitchen for breakfast.”

  LaShaun heard water running from their master bedroom. Chase’s baritone voice hummed along with the radio as he cleaned up. She started to ask him about the window, but Ellie’s fussing returned full force, so LaShaun continued on to the kitchen. Twenty minutes later, Ellie had eaten her cereal and happily sucked from her juice cup. When Chase appeared, she dropped it with a delighted squeal. Her little arms reached out for him.

  “There’s my girl looking pretty as ever. Ellie boo-boo, daddy’s sweetheart.” Chase picked her up, kissed her plump cheek, and grinned at her.

  “Don’t shake her or you’ll be changing shirts,” LaShaun put leftover cereal in a sealed container.

  “We can still sing about the baby rabbits, squirrels and possums.” Chase launched them into Cajun French lyrics of a children’s song.

  LaShaun enjoyed watching him gently sway around the kitchen with Ellie trying to sing along. They had agreed to speak Louisiana Cajun and Creole French often to let Ellie pick up the language. After a few minutes, he finished to Ellie’s applause. He put her back in the high chair. Ellie seemed to know the show was over. She went back to sucking juice. Between sips Ellie would chant “mama” and “daddy” softly. Chase smiled at her, love shining from his dark eyes.

  “She’s a beautiful little miracle, isn’t she?”

  “Yes, she truly is,” LaShaun agreed. Then she thought back to the nursery scene. “And she’ll be sneezing if you keep leaving the window open.”

  “Who me? Not that I remember. It did get too warm in here last night, so maybe I did.”

  “Like how big a crack, quarter of an inch, half an inch, or more?” LaShaun said, working to force a casual tone.

  Chase faced LaShaun with both hands on his hips. “You sure gettin’ picky. We got a rule now on how much to crack her window? I can be trusted with my baby girl.”

  “I didn’t mean… Oh stop.” LaShaun snapped a kitchen towel at him with a grin.

  “Hey, she’s a Broussard; she’s made of hardy stuff, right, Ellie?” Chase said to the toddler. Still sucking juice, she waved at him as if agreeing.

  “Oh so it’s two against one,” LaShaun protested.

  Chase took a call on his cell phone. He talked for five minutes then hung up. LaShaun recognized his “on-duty” expression, though the fact that he wasn’t frowning indicated nothing serious had happened. She hoped.

  “Time to go Broussard ladies.” Chase went to retrieve his duty belt and gun from the large hall closet. He returned moments later with his coat and a dark olive felt hat.

  “Nothing too bad, huh?”

  “Nah, nothing to worry about. Not compared to the stuff we been through. Glad that’s behind us.” Chase crossed to Ellie, gave her a quick kiss and then kissed LaShaun on the cheek. “I should be home on time this afternoon. ‘The good Lord willing and the creek don’t rise’ as Grandmére Jeanne used to say.”

  “Bye, honey.” LaShaun waved at him, but Chase’s attention was on his cell phone again and the job.

  “Just you and me, Ellie. What shall we do? Mais oui, Un chien, ma petite fille.” (Yes, a dog my little girl)

  “Ma,” Ellie said with enthusiasm.

  LaShaun gazed out the window to the woods on her property. “We need a special
dog for you.”

  ****

  The next morning, LaShaun bundled Ellie into a jacket with matching overalls. The skies had cleared, and the temperature warmed to the mid-fifties. She drove down Rougon Road until she got to Highway 82. Thirty miles later, she turned onto Old Sugar Mill Road. Just as Miss Rose had instructed. A small lane branched off about two miles west. Another ten minutes brought her to the gravel drive with a large mailbox shaped like a horse. The rear end held the opening for mail.

  “And I thought Miss Rose was exaggerating,” LaShaun said to Ellie. She glanced in the rearview mirror to find the baby wide awake and taking in the sights.

  “Horse, le chev.” Ellie pointed

  “Le cheval,” LaShaun corrected. Ellie repeated the word sounding closer to the correct French pronunciation. “Good girl. Let’s not discuss which end of the horse is facing us.”

  LaShaun drove her bronze Subaru Forrester along the crushed gravel, grateful she hadn’t washed the SUV yet. Mud puddles splashed as she hit a couple of small holes. She spotted a circular driveway that curved in front of a cottage style home. A familiar black Ford Explorer was already parked there. Justine Dupart Tullier, one half of the quirky twins LaShaun had grown close to, waved as LaShaun parked beside the Explorer. Justine and Pauline had joined forces with Rose Fontenot a few months before to help LaShaun fight Juridicus. The three older women introduced LaShaun to an organization of others with preternatural gifts.

  “Told you it was easy to find. Just sounds complicated. Didn’t take you long to get here either.” Justine blew Ellie a kiss. “Oh, she’s a doll. My second daughter is expecting her first. I hope it’s a girl. Got three grandsons already. I love them to death, but they’re all mud and sweaty kisses. How I’d just love to shop for pretty dresses.”

  “Hi Justine.” LaShaun smiled as the middle-aged woman chattered along in true down home southern style. “You’re looking good. How’s your sister?”

  “Grumpy as always. Here, let me lighten the load.” Justine whisked Ellie away from LaShaun. She cooed and cuddled the baby.

  “She’s a bit fussy around people she doesn’t know…”