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.Though she knew too well the rough districts near the river, she’d found a neighborhood in the north part of town where the hedges were high, the shutters always half closed, and where people lived their anonymous big-city lives in quiet comfort.And safety.One afternoon a month, she allowed herself the fantasy as she strolled the sidewalks shaded by large oaks and exotic palms.She would buy a house there, furnish it with the heavy mahogany antiques she favored, and start life anew.She would present herself as the widow, if not wife, of a lawman.A woman of grace and beauty who had survived hard times.There would be no children, though.Life was too hard and unpredictable to risk that.A dark car clattered by, and she noticed her reflection in the window.My, but she looked serious.And sad.Since Raymond Thibodeaux had begun to knock on her door regularly, sadness had burrowed deep in her bones.Her love for him had grown with equal measure with her understanding of the darkness that truly claimed his heart.Raymond felt he didn’t deserve to live.He’d exiled himself to a half life as punishment for not dying.She stepped beneath the awning of Marcel’s Dress Shop and couldn’t be certain if it was the sudden shade or her thoughts that sent a shiver over her.Now Henri Bastion was dead in a brutal murder, and Raymond had involved himself in the defense of a madwoman.The door of the dress shop opened and the proprietress, Marcel Yerby, waved her inside.“Florence, is something wrong? You look like you’re in pain.”Florence fixed a smile on her face.Marcel had a head full of coarse dark hair she rolled on rags each night to accomplish the latest style.She was vain and sometimes arrogant but today seemed in a chatty mood.“My thoughts had drifted to Henri Bastion and the terrible death he met on Section Line Road.” Marcel would have all the latest gossip, and Florence knew the value of talk.She had a few tidbits to share herself, gleaned from Emanuel Agee’s late-night visit.Marcel nodded, eyebrows lifting.“I heard Adele Hebert was hovering over the body, snarling, and that a pack of wolves waited at the edge of the road.Raymond had to shoot four of them before he could get to Adele.”Florence felt a pulse of hope.“So, Raymond is finally a hero in the eyes of the town.”“Hardly.He’s defending Adele, saying she’s innocent.”Florence walked to a rack of dresses and began looking through them.She waited for Marcel to talk.The shopkeeper couldn’t keep a secret.“You’d best beware, cher.Raymond Thibodeaux has something going with Adele.” Marcel arched an eyebrow.“She’s cast a spell on him and aims to take him all the way to the dark side.”“One thing I know, Marcel.Raymond only goes where he wants.” Florence pulled a green floral print dress off the rack, pretending to examine it.“Do you think this color will bring out my eyes?”Marcel looked at the dress.“Men might enjoy your eyes, but that low bodice and short skirt will have them drooling over your figure.Course, the only man you want to notice is Raymond, isn’t that right?”Florence put the dress aside to try on.“I’m not the kind of woman to break my heart on a rock that won’t roll.” She forced a smile.“So tell me what you’ve heard about Adele.”“She had twins, but she never named the father.”Florence stopped with her hand on a clothes hanger.“Didn’t she work for the Bastions for a while?”Marcel’s plucked eyebrows rose even higher.“Yes, I’d forgotten.Last year sometime.Are the boys his get?”Florence shrugged.“The boys died during the early October fever.” She grimaced.“I hope this cold snap has finally driven the mosquitoes away.If it warms again, we’ll have another epidemic.”“Lettie, at the telephone exchange, said that Raymond called Father Finley and told him to get to the Bastion place.Imagine, ordering a priest around.”“Raymond knows how to get things done.” Florence kept her focus on the rack of dresses.“Someone has to take charge in this place.”“I’ll bet he does take charge.” She grinned.“For all that he never smiles and he sometimes limps, he’s a sexy man.He stirs the blood.” Marcel clicked the dresses along the rack and pulled out a black number with a plunging back and swinging skirt.“This is perfect for you.As to Raymond, he’s haunted by death.He brought it to many, and now he regrets his actions.I know you care for him, Florence, but he walks with the Dark Angel.That’s what Raymond and Adele have in common.”Florence pulled out a dress and put it in the stack to try on.“Adele has reason to be insane.Her sister bled from the hands and hung herself, and her boys died only a couple of weeks ago.That’s too much pain for any woman to endure.That doesn’t make Adele a murderer.”Marcel looked around as if she feared someone would overhear them.“Father Finley wrote the Vatican about Rosa, to get her declared authentic.He was very excited by the prospect of a true religious miracle in his congregation.Of course, you’d know this if you attended church.”Florence laughed out loud.“My life is hard enough without spending extra time on my knees.”Marcel tried to block her laughter with a hand.“You are set for hell, Florence
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