Cry Wolf

Chapter Nine

Tension, like electricity, filled the room instantly, tightening skin, raising short hairs, freezing breath. The initial shock held everyone motionless, speechless, then Olive rushed into the room, chalk-faced, eyes brimming with tears.

"I didn't let her in, Mrs. Leighton!" she wailed. "I didn't! She shoved me!"

Vivian grabbed the maid by the arm and hustled her out into the hall. Sava

She looked past the shocked faces of Glory and Don Trahern and Reverend Stipple, to her dear old step-daddy. Ross's expression was guarded, like that of a poker player bluffing on a busted hand. He still wanted her. She was sure of that, and she smiled at him to let him know she knew. To remind herself he had chosen her over his wife, over her mother. To reinforce the truth in her own mind-that she was a born whore and would never be anything else. And she reveled in the moment, in making him wonder, making him squirm.

Feeling smug, she strolled into the room, her gait loose, hips swinging. She had dressed for the occasion in a scandalously short, sleeveless dress that was white with large red amaryllis blossoms splashed across it, and fit her like skin on a sausage. Aside from her red stiletto heels, it was the only article of clothing she wore. She had looped a long strand of pearls carelessly around her neck to accompany her ever-present pendant, and brushed her hair upside down so that it was now like a cloud around her shoulders, wild and sexy. Her Ray-Bans completed the outfit, hiding her eyes, giving her an air of mystery.

" Sava

"I had a change in plans," Sava

"Of course." Laurel took a step toward the door. "You can give me a ride back to Belle Rivière. I was just leaving."

"So soon?" Sava

Laurel bit her tongue and held her temper, saying a quick prayer that her sister wouldn't do anything more outrageous than she already had. She slipped an arm through Sava

"Stephen Danjermond, my sister, Sava

"District Attorney Danjermond," Sava

"Miss Leighton?" One dark brow rose a fraction. "You go by your stepfather's name?"

"Oh, yes," Sava

" Sava

"Yes, I expect it is," Sava

Laurel flinched inwardly as her stomach knotted with tension. She moved toward her sister, reaching out to put a hand on Sava

"Yes," Vivian snapped, her alabaster complexion mottling red with anger. "Please do go. If you can't keep a civil tongue in your head and behave as a lady, you are not welcome here."

Sava

"Sister, please," Laurel whispered, taking hold of Sava

The tremor in Laurel 's voice was the only thing that kept Sava

Vivian and Ross deserved whatever humiliation she brought them. But now was not the time. Poor Baby, always the peacemaker; she didn't need the tension. Sava

"Come on, Baby," she murmured, sliding an arm around Laurel.

They walked out of the parlor in no particular hurry, down the hall past Olive, who stood red-eyed, her flat face pale and wet, her stringy red hair clinging to her cheeks. The maid glared at Sava

Laurel wanted to run and fling the door open and sprint for her car, but she was stuck beside Sava

Laurel saw it too. The broad sweeping emerald lawn, the lush semitropical growth of the cypress swamp beyond, the broad money green leaves of the sugarcane that stretched off in the other direction beyond the pecan grove. Home to generations of Chandlers. Generations that would end with them.

"Why did you have to do that?" she asked.

Sava

"Save me?" Laurel shook her head. "I was doing just fine. It was only a di

"Well, isn't that gratitude?" Sava

"I don't see the point in making a big public scene-"

"You wouldn't, would you?"

The remark cut Laurel to the bone. She sucked in a breath and looked away, guilt and anger twining inside her like vines. It wasn't fair of Sava

"Let's just go home and start the afternoon over, okay?" Start over. That was what she had come to Bayou Breaux to do. Why had she thought she would be able to start over in a place where the past never went away? She wanted to think they could all rise above it and move on, but with every moment she spent here, she felt it pulling at her more and more, like quicksand, like the thick mud of the swamp, sucking her down, draining her strength.

Sava

Poor Mama, always so afraid of what people would think.

"How did you get out here?" she asked absently.

Sava

"Ro

Laurel blew out a sigh and speared a hand back through her hair. "I wish you wouldn't do that."

"What? Have sex with Ro

"Tell me about it. I don't want to hear it, Sister."

"Christ, Baby," Sava

"I'm sure I don't care," Laurel grumbled.

"Yeah? Well, I'll bet Vivian cares. A fine, upstanding, well-bred man like Mr. Danjermond. She'd hand you over to him on a platter if she could. Think about it. She could marry you off to a man with money, power, prestige, a big future in politics, and snuff out the last embers of your big scandal all at once. How perfectly neat and tidy and cold-just the way Vivian likes things."

There was nothing for Laurel to say. She had seen Vivian's game for what it was, too, and it didn't bear comment as far as she was concerned. She had no intention of letting her mother manipulate her-except that she already had. The thought struck her like a hammer to the chest. She had gone to Beauvoir to placate Vivian. Nothing that had happened during the course of that visit could be undone. Because of Vivian, Danjermond was interested in her personally and professionally. Because of Vivian, Sava