Elli (A Second Chance Novel Book 1) Page 30

  The first steaming batch of bright red, boiled crawfish was spread across the center of the tables with bright yellow boiled corn on the cob. Bienvenues reached in and began eating. Tante Izzy waved for Elli to join them. She just couldn’t enter this scene. She was the villain, the evil stranger who planned to destroy this happy world. She was nauseated knowing how wretched she was to continue with the plan to sell the plantation. Elli signaled to Tante Izzy that she had to make a phone call. She needed to talk to Abby. She also had to check her computer to see if any potential investors had responded to her e-mails. Elli wanted to throw up.

  “Abby, I’m such a rat,” she said to her friend on the phone once she explained what was happening under the beautiful oak tree.

  “You care about them,” Abby said, getting right to the heart of the problem. “You care about them as individuals and as a family.”

  Elli plopped on her bed with her laptop and downloaded her e-mails. “I care about the foundation, too.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you, Elli. This is way too emotional for me. You know, I like to deal with the facts. With a linear thought process.” She sighed. “You have always challenged my orderly processing.”

  The e-mails flashed onto the screen and Elli saw that one was from Online Auto Sales. She clicked on it. “Well, I sold my car.”

  “Okay.” Abby’s tone was even. “I can’t tell if you are happy about that or not.”

  “Happy? That’s a strong word.” She sighed and forwarded the e-mail to Abby with the amount she got for her prized car that once signaled she had made it as a movie producer. “Considering the wild week I’ve had here, including a slide into a ditch, I’m just glad the car escaped damage.” She smiled thinking of what else happened after the crash that night. It was a memory she would always enjoy thinking about when she left the plantation and Ben. “Well, the car is in the same condition that it was in when I drove onto Sugar Mill. I can’t say the same for myself.”

  “Oh, Elli,” Abby said, sympathy in her voice.

  “I don’t want to talk about me. I want to talk about the car.” She closed her eyes to better focus on business. “I’m donating the money from the car sale to the foundation. It would’ve been nice to get a little more, but I think it’s fair considering how fast I sold it.” Elli’s fingers tapped along the keyboard. “Can you help me do the title transfer?”

  “I’ll take care of it. Where should I have the buyer pick up the car? He’s in Atlanta.”

  “Can you see if he’ll come to Cane to get it? I expect I’ll be here another week.”

  “Done.”

  Elli looked at the other e-mails with Sugar Mill Plantation in the subject line. “Well, two investors are going to review the packet I sent to them and get back to me in a couple of days. Sam Cooper’s business manager e-mailed me that he wants to evaluate the property for investment, too.”

  “That’s great. Three potential investors.” Elli’s stomach knotted as Abby got excited. “For the first time in a few months, I feel really hopeful.”

  “Well, one side is falling into place.” Elli sighed. “I’m not sure Ben will.”

  Joey walked into Elli’s room holding a live brown crawfish in his hand. He smiled at Elli and made monster sounds as he bounced the crawfish in the air. Its long claws waved in protest. “Tante Izzy sent me in to get you. She said the crawfish are better hot than cold, so you had better come now.” Joey laughed. “And she said she didn’t want to wait all day for you to come. She’s almost ready for her nap.”

  “I wouldn’t interfere with Tante Izzy’s nap if I were you,” Ben said, walking up behind Joey and mussing his son’s hair. “Hey, what you got there?” He took the crawfish from his son and walked over to Elli. She shuffled off the bed.

  “I have to go, Abby. I’m about to mauled by a mini lobster.” She hung up and threw her fists onto her hips. “If you think that little urchin scares me, then…” Elli screamed as Ben placed the crawfish on her arm. He snatched it back and started laughing. Joey was laughing, too. Her heart grew three sizes seeing them so happy. She was so in love with them. There was no doubt about it: the sooner she got out of Cane, the better.

  “Come on,” Ben said, grabbing her hand and tugging her to the door. He handed Joey the crawfish. “I’m hungry.”

  Soon, Elli was settled at the table, sitting next to Ben and across from Tante Izzy. Ben placed a few dozen crawfish in front of her. “What am I supposed to do with that?” she asked.

  Tante Izzy snorted. “Mais, she’z a Texian for sure.”

  Joey handed Elli a paper bowl with some sort of pale orange-colored sauce. “Uncle Beau said to tell you the sauce was made with organic mayonnaise and ketchup and some other stuff.”

  Elli dipped her finger into the sauce and tasted it. “Yum. I taste a little horseradish, too. It’s almost like a remoulade sauce.”

  “Youz don’t dip youz finger in it, Texian. Youz dip the crawfish.” Tante Izzy rolled her eyes.

  “Well, okay. I didn’t know.” Elli grabbed a boiled crawfish between her finger and thumb and carefully dunked the whole thing into the sauce. Joey started laughing so hard that Ruby walked up to see what was going on. When she spotted the hard-shell crawfish in Elli’s hand, she started laughing.

  Ruby smacked Ben at the back of his head. “Teach this girl how to eat crawfish right or we’ll be hauling her to the hospital to get shells and claws out of her intestines.”

  Ben lifted Elli’s hand with the crawfish in it. He put the sauce-covered crawfish on the table and stuck her sauce-covered fingers into his mouth. Elli felt her face heat with embarrassment and something more. “Now, cher,” he began with mischief in his eyes. “You pinch the tail and suck the head.”

  Ruby started fanning her face as Tante Izzy started chattering in Cajun French. The only word Elli understood was Rascal.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Has this ever happened to you, my Bosom Blog Buddies? I lay beneath the radiation machine, stuck, uncomfortably, in my form with my arm bent in a V over my head…my upper torso bare. The white machine hisses and its gears whir in the soft way a well-engineered sports car does. Smooth. Powerful. Efficient. As it began its graceful dance over me, I find myself watching it as I might watch a documentary about someone else receiving radiation treatment—distant, impersonal, and detached. I know this is just a coping mechanism for people under severe stress because I read about it long ago in my college Psych 101 textbook. I never would have thought back then this would happen to me. Other people detached themselves from reality and watched their lives play out in a real-time movie. Not me! I had thought I was braver than that. I’m not. Oddly, I’m still able to joke and speak in a normal tone while all of these thoughts are racing through my mind and these crazy emotions are twisting in my body. If it wasn’t for this blog, I would probably never have given a voice to these inner thoughts and feelings. Do you have these same thoughts? Do you think of other things? I want to hear from you. I wish you good health, E.

  Bosom Blog Buddies Post

  Elli was helping Ben and Beau clean the tables when Ben’s phone rang. He stepped away to answer it. When he finished the call, he asked Elli if she’d watch Joey until he got back. When she said yes, he turned to Beau and asked him to take a ride to the kennel with him. Elli could tell by the way Ben’s eyes narrowed that something was wrong.

  “Is everything okay?” she asked, following him to his truck.

  He turned and swept her into his arms. “Do you know how sexy you look eating crawfish?” He gave her the half grin that melted her insides.

  “It must be the way that I sent the shell soaring into Ruby’s husband’s beard when I pinched the tail a little too tightly.” She laughed. Ben tucked a curl behind her ear and kissed her very tenderly on the lips.

  “I think it has more to do with the way your lips got all shiny and slick from the crawfish juice and the way you licked your lips to not miss the sweet taste.” He kissed her again, a
nd Elli’s body tingled in sweet anticipation.

  “Man, you two are really hot together,” Beau said walking up to them. “Why don’t you kiss her again, Ben, let me see if I can give you some pointers.” Ben punched Beau in the shoulder. Hard. Beau rubbed his arm and frowned. “I was trying to share a little of my extensive knowledge with you, cuz. That’s a hell of way to show your appreciation.”

  Elli laughed. “I thank you, Beau, but…” She gave Ben a quick kiss on the lips. “…I think Ben has figured things out just fine.”

  Ben threw his head back and laughed. He gave Elli a deep, long, passionate kiss, then turned her toward the oak tree and patted her on the fanny to move her along. Elli knew the benefit of a good scene exit, so she looked over her shoulder and winked at Ben. She heard Ben and Beau laughing and joking with one another through their open windows as they drove away.

  “I think that man is sweet on you,” Ruby said, walking up to Elli. “Tante Izzy told me she got you some love potion from the Traiteur. She got me some when I was dating John. He took one sip and couldn’t get me to the altar fast enough.”

  “Ben hasn’t taken it,” Elli said. “I don’t want him to fall in love with me. I’ll be leaving in a week.”

  “Too bad.” Ruby linked her arm through Elli’s. “I think he could use an intimate confidant. Especially, with the fire marshal hanging around and all the trouble brewing with that.”

  “Fire marshal?” Elli stopped and looked at Ruby. “Okay. Tell me what you know.”

  “Well, I only overheard.” She looked around to see if anyone else was listening. Her eyes twinkled as she looked back at Elli. The woman loved to gossip. “I heard Ben tell Beau that the fire marshal was at the kennel to talk to his employees about the fire. He also said something about searching Ben’s truck and the kennel, too.”

  “Searching for what?”

  “Fire-making stuff.” She shook her head. “I guess that means you’re off the hook.”

  Elli wondered what new evidence the fire marshal had found to have him searching the kennel. She also wondered if the marshal would be there alone if he thought the fire was related to a drug operation. Would there be other investigators?

  “Did you hear anything else?”

  Ruby thought about it a moment. “No. I think that’s it.”

  Elli wasn’t sure what to do with the information. She didn’t want to rush over to the kennel and impede an investigation, but she wanted to know what was going on. She had a right to know since she owned half of Sugar Mill, didn’t she?

  “Would you keep an eye on Joey?” Elli asked Ruby.

  “Sure. Are you going to the kennel?”

  “I think so.” She didn’t have a plan, but she figured by the time she drove to the kennel she might have one. When Elli neared her car, she saw that it was blocked in by Beau’s BMW. She found Ruby and asked to borrow her car. The animated redhead was more than happy to lend it to her. If she couldn’t be a busybody in the middle of a drama, then having something she owned there was pretty darn exciting to her.

  Elli arrived at the kennel in the big Cadillac, still without a plan. There was a marked sheriff’s car and two other cars with government license plates parked in front of the office. Elli sat in the car a moment, hoping a plan would pop into her head. When it didn’t, she just marched inside the office.

  “Hello, Elli,” Sheriff Ronald said, greeting her first. She nodded to him. He was standing near Ben’s desk next to a uniformed policeman who was fingerprinting one of Ben’s employees.

  “Miss Morenelli. I was hoping to have a chance to speak to you.” The fire marshal, Frank Cammer, smiled and stood from the chair he was sitting in. “I was just telling Ben that.”

  Elli looked at Ben, who was sitting on the sofa. He had his arms folded over his chest, his eyebrows were furrowed, and he was frowning. Beau, who was pouring himself a cup of coffee, just looked at her like he was disappointed that she was there.

  “What’s going on?” She hadn’t directed the question to anyone in particular, but it was Ben who answered.

  “The sheriff’s office is getting everyone’s fingerprints as part of the investigation.”

  “It hasn’t been court ordered,” Beau interjected. “Nothing has.” He looked at Ben and frowned. “In the spirit of cooperation, and without the recommendation of legal counsel, just about everyone has agreed to be fingerprinted.”

  “Everyone, except you, Elli,” Frank said. “Will you allow us to fingerprint you?”

  “I don’t know,” Elli said, looking at Ben. “Should I?”

  He stood, grabbed her hand, and led her outside. When the office door closed behind them, she realized maybe she should have asked Beau-the lawyer what to do, not Ben-the dog-trainer. They walked across the street near the training field before he spoke. “What the hell are you doing here? You should stay out of this.”

  “I heard there were lawmen snooping around. I wanted to know why.”

  The muscle in Ben’s jaw twitched. “I know you have a lot of questions. I was going to tell you everything later. I don’t want you dragged in the middle of this.”

  “I already am. You know that.”

  “I didn’t see a need to have you involved right now. It’s that simple.” He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets.

  “Well, I’m here now and the po-po wants to fingerprint me.” She sighed. “Should I let them?”

  “Beau says, no.”

  “What does Ben say?”

  He shrugged. “I say it doesn’t matter. I googled it and confirmed it with Uncle Ronald. Fingerprints are only taken and placed into the national databases when you are arrested.” He looked toward the office. Beau had just walked out and was headed in their direction. “They only need a copy of your prints to figure out who has been in my truck. We already know you’ve been in it. They are just trying to figure out whose prints shouldn’t be in my truck.”

  “Did you get fingerprinted?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I will, too.” She didn’t see any problem with it, since they already knew she was in his truck. “You didn’t tell me why seeing who has been in your truck is so important.”

  He looked at her. “My truck was at the cottage just before the fire. One of your pictures showed it parked alongside the cottage.”

  “The police were able to get the photos from the charred camera?”

  “Yes,” Ben answered, but looked at Beau who was near them, now.

  “I don’t remember seeing your truck there,” she told the men. “You’d think I would have noticed it.”

  Beau described exactly where the truck was parked and he and Ben discussed the angle at which Elli had to shoot the photograph to capture the picture and still not see it. After a five-minute discussion, Elli interrupted them.

  “I was snapping pictures with the camera dangling from my hands. I didn’t have it raised to my eyes like you would normally expect.” She smiled. “I was scared out of my skin and only wanted the photos to document my death.”

  “We’re ready for you, Elli,” Sheriff Ronald called to her from the office porch.

  Beau held Elli’s arm and kept her from leaving until he explained all of the reasons he thought voluntarily giving her fingerprints to a criminal investigation was a bad idea. When he finished his attorney’s legal lecture, Elli stared into his eyes. “You rode in Ben’s truck. Did you allow them to fingerprint you?”

  “Yes.”

  Elli was fingerprinted. Afterward, she washed her hands of the ink residue before joining Ben and Beau on the sofa.

  “I was just telling Ben and Beau that I got the lab reports on the type of marijuana being grown inside the cottage,” Frank Cammer said, sitting in the chair across from the sofa. “My hypothesis was right. It was a high-potency variety. That means our grower did have the indoor hydroponic system I suspected.”

  “That must have been a costly operation, then,” Elli said.

  “Yes and no,” Frank sa
id. “Hydroponics isn’t that expensive to set up. What was costly to the grower was his loss of revenue when he burned the cottage.”

  “The sheriff had every inch of the Sugar Mill property searched by helicopter and by foot with drug dogs looking for evidence of other illegal crops,” Frank told them. “He didn’t find any. I think we’re dealing with a small-time operator. That’s not to say he didn’t produce a lot of buds in and around that cottage.”

  “He must have left some behind. Can you trace where the grow lights came from?” Ben leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “What does a marijuana farmer need to grow and harvest his crops?”

  “Not a lot,” Ronald said, joining the conversation. “The most important thing he needs is good soil. He may have had manure, top soil, fertilizer, or things like that.”

  “The lab found evidence of nonorganic plant nutrients,” Frank told the sheriff. “I thought I sent that report to you.” He walked to where he had left his briefcase near the front door. He retrieved a folder from it and handed it to Ronald. “Nothing unusual in the report. There’s NPK.”

  “Nitrogen, phosphorous, and potassium,” Ronald said, reading the report.

  “It’s been a lot of years since college chemistry, but I think I remember that phosphorous is flammable,” Ben said.

  “It’s used to make matches, right?” Elli said.

  “Yes and yes,” Frank said with a nod. “Phosphorous is very flammable and according to the report, it was burned in the cottage. An accelerant was found, too. It looks like our suspect used gasoline to ignite the fire.”

  Elli turned to face Ben. “You remember how we smelled gas in your truck when we got in to head to the cabin? We couldn’t find the source of it anywhere.” Her heart began to pound in her chest. “He had probably just gotten back from setting the fire right before we hopped in your truck, Ben.”

  Frank and Ronald looked at Elli and Ben. “I hadn’t thought about the gas smell,” Ben said.

  “Maybe there are other things you two haven’t realized are important,” Frank offered, sitting in the chair again.