Good Woman Blues by Lynn Emery

reasonable price won’t
be hard. I can give you a list of software programs when you’re
ready. I mean, when you have the computer.”
    “Great.”
    “Just let me know.” Erikka backed up and
bumped into Ryan’s secretary. “Sorry.”
    “Oops, my mistake,” Jocelyn said as she
grabbed Erikka’s arm. “I dusted your office and put supplies on the
desk. The phone line isn’t activated, but I’ll get that taken care
of tomorrow.”
    “Thanks.” Erikka smiled at her, and then
looked at Gabriel. A wiry man in a suit came out and called to
him.
    “Good to see you again, Mr. Cormier. Come
right this way.”
    Gabriel shook hands with the account
representative and glanced at Erikka. “Give me your number.”
    “I don’t have any cards.” Erikka looked at
Tyquiesha.
    The receptionist looked back at her with a
blank expression.
    “Use this.” Jocelyn hurried over and grabbed
a sticky notepad from the reception desk. She didn’t notice the
faint scowl Tyquiesha gave her.
    Erikka wrote her aunt’s number down and
handed him the small square of blue paper. “Here you go. We’ll get
you straight in no time.”
    “Look forward to it.” Gabriel pocketed the
note.
    With a final wave to Erikka, he turned and
followed the rep through a glass doorway. The two men sat down in a
small conference room to talk. She studied Gabriel’s profile. He
definitely wasn’t her idea of a country carpenter. Remembering
Darlene’s strange reaction to him, Erikka found him even more
mysterious. Erikka would pry more details out of Darlene that
night. Erikka wondered just what she’d gotten herself into with
these two men. Ryan Wilson had the oily grin and sweaty hands of a
groper. Gabriel seemed harmless enough, but the quiet ones could be
just as bad.
    “Ready?” Jocelyn said over her shoulder.
    “We’ll see,” Erikka said. She turned and
smiled at the baffled woman. ‘Time to sort through those tangled-up
books.”
     
     
     

Chapter 5
     
     
    Gabriel sat on the steps of his back porch
gazing out at the expanse of gray-brown water that bordered the
property that had been in his family for four generations. Sunlight
glinted on ripples in the lake. Cypress trees and stumps came up
out of the water. The distant chug of an outboard motor became
louder as a bass boat approached. His father steered his pride and
joy toward the wooden landing. Gabriel knew not to get up. Charles
Rudolphe Cormier was proud. He’d scowl at any attempts to help him.
Even at sixty-five and having suffered a heart attack, he insisted
on doing things as he had all his life. Still, to ease his wife’s
mind he agreed not to go out in his boat alone. Next to him sat his
oldest grandson. Brian dropped the anchor while his grandfather
tied a heavy nylon rope around one of the piles.
    “Hey, Uncle Gabriel. Slim pickings.” Brian
sprang onto the dock. He had the stamina and energy of the typical
sixteen-year-old.
    “I remember the time we would have needed
three boats to haul in all the fish,” Charles said, with a
frown.
    “Maybe the fish have gotten smarter,” Gabriel
replied. They’d gone out at six that morning. Even in early May,
the midmorning heat drove them back to the shore.
    “Never should have agreed to let in those
damn tourists. Three boatloads came out in one hour. All that
racket keeps the fish away.” His father handed Brian a large ice
chest that should have held the day’s catch.
    “At least they pay for it.” Brian winked at
Gabriel. He steadied the boat.
    His grandfather ignored Brian’s outstretched
arm and got out on his own. “Idiots gaping over the side of the
barges looking for alligators. All we need is for one of the fools
to fall in.”
    Gabriel walked out to them. He took fishing
rods Brian handed him. “So far none of them have. Mr. Boudreaux is
an expert handler of idiot tourists.”
    Loyd Boudreaux ran the tour service into the
nearby swamp. Lac du Cormier connected to Indian Bayou, which
emptied into a vast