CHAPTER FORTY

They were all against her.

Jeannette Roberts could feel their eyes watching her leave the market with the items for supper tucked into a reusable bag slung over her elbow. She could hear their whispers talking behind her back.

They were laughing.

Mocking her.

Years of being a pillar of society, a model of strength and tradition, tarnished by that little slut. That whore.

Her fingers tightened in the strap of her purse, folding the expensive leather.

The Lacroix tramp who humiliated her and then sent her demon lover to threaten Jeannette's family. Of course Lacroix himself would never get his hands dirty by doing the work himself. He was the devil who sent his minions to attack the God-fearing members of society of which Jeannette was.

She loved God.

She went to church every Sunday and gave generously to the collection basket. She helped her community members and gave to the needy.

She was a good person.

She didn't deserve to have her neck slashed by that whore. She didn't deserve to get humiliated by that insufferable twit Ivelle and banned from that pathetic establishment in front of a crowd of onlookers. She didn't deserve her husband's ire when Lacroix's lapdog showed up at their house in the dead of night to demote Tom from his prominent position on the council. She had done nothing wrong.

So, she said a few things about that monster who brutally murdered multiple women. In regular society, she would have been hailed a hero. She had told the truth. Sending Handley to serve justice was her right. If anything, she was the victim who stood up against a beast and had everyone she knew turn against her. That was what good, honest people like her had to endure.

Insides writhing with a pit of snakes, Jeannette lifted her chin and started across the cobblestone to Diane's vintage boutique. A little shopping would help calm her nerves. Maybe she'd find something cute for the baby that useless ninny Charlotte was lucky to be blessed with. TJ should have kept looking. Charlotte wasn't good enough for Jeannette's only son.

Her pride and joy.

Her sweet baby.

She hadn't even been a virgin. Everyone knew she'd had at least two boyfriends before TJ. It made her fine to fool around with but TJ deserved a pure woman with morals. Now, Jeannette was the one dealing with her boundaries.

Boundaries.

What a ridiculous notion.

That was her first grandchild. As the grandmother, she had a God given right to that child. It was part TJ, after all.

But the moment Jeannette started mentioning nursery colors and names, Charlotte was overwhelmed and didn't want to think about it.

When Jeannette started collecting baby essentials, little gifts to get them started, she fussed that Jeannette was making her mother feel bad.

How was it Jeannette's fault if Charlotte's mother scrubbed beer stains off tables in a cut off top and panties and didn't make enough money from the line of men she took home?

That was the family TJ decided to give his seed to. Lord, help them.

Jeannette sighed. She couldn't fathom where she'd gone wrong, but beds were made, and Charlotte was in Jeannette's life for better or worse.

Jeannette tried to like Charlotte, but the ditz really didn't know what she was doing. She was young and needed someone to guide her and show her how to be a proper wife to a man like TJ. He wasn't the bums she was used to in her bed. He had a sterling education. Infinite roots that stretched to the very conception of the village and a career ... well, a doctor was nothing to sneer at, especially one coming from a long line of doctors with their own practice. Although Charlotte seemed too stupid to realize how lucky she had it. Her biggest accomplishment was flashing her tits for men during Mardi Gras for bead. A moment she showcased proudly on the fridge.

Jeannette hoped she would take it down once the child was born but doubted it. Even TJ seemed strangely attached to the photo of his wife baring her chest to a crowd of onlookers, ropes of colored beads strung around her neck like some badge of honor.

It's how they met, according to him. She flashed him, he gave her the green beads he had and somehow, now she was set to be the mother of his child.

"Ugh!" Jeannette rubbed two fingers into her temple.

Well, maybe a child would tame her, and she will grow and get closer to God. Maybe Jeannette needed to get her a Bible. Something she could read out loud and find the path. TJ had mentioned she wasn't religious when Jeannette asked why TJ and the pile of loose morals he married in Vegas like some hooker, didn't attend Sunday church. So, not only was she a Godless heathen, but she was corrupting Jeannette's sweet boy.

She sucked in a breath to calm the rage building in her chest. She told herself she would make sure to put a stop to that lunacy first chance she got. She just needed to be patient. This was God's test.

Jostling the groceries higher on the crook of her elbow, Jeannette persisted. She stalked the cobblestone path towards Diane's vintage boutique. She'd seen an adorable christening gown in the window a few weeks back that Charlotte had said she would think about but hadn't bought yet. It could be a fun gift during that evening's Friday dinners at Jeannette's house.

The bell above Diane's door pinged once, then again when Jeannette closed the door. The scent of dust and old parchment were still prominent beneath the sharp sting of chemical floor cleaner and wood polish. Jeannette made a mental note to urge Diane to use apple cider vinegar. It was more natural and well, better than that heavily chemical trash from the market.

"Hi! I'll be right with you!" Diane called.

The woman in question had her back to Jeannette as she stood whispering in the phone. Jeannette couldn't hear the conversation beyond snatches that made the back of her neck prickle.

"I heard. I would immediately move," Diane was saying as Jeannette drew closer.

The phone in Jeannette's purse took that moment to spring to life, making them both jump. Diane said a hasty goodbye to whoever she was talking to and hung up. She spun to face Jeannette and her smile faltered. Her dark brown eyes darted between Jeannette and the door as if baffled how it was Jeannette in her shop.

An uncertain smile wavered across Diane's face. "Jeannette, hi!"

A new snap of fury lanced through Jeannette at the blatant disrespect. At the audacity that a woman she'd known her entire life was talking and whispering behind her back. She and Diane went back to school days. Jeannette had always been so good to her. This was a new level of betrayal.

"How are you?" Diane tittered the sound of a guilty person. "I was just talking to Stephanie—"

Stephanie Hollis, that traitorous bitch. She practically flew home to tell everyone what happened at that trash bookstore. By the time Jeannette had made it home to her husband, the entire village had heard about the rabid slut who nearly sliced Jeannette's throat with a blade. It was a wonder she hadn't needed stitches. She could have died. That seemed to be the point everyone kept missing.

"Did you need something?" Diane was asking when Jeannette tore out of that traumatic memory.

Her phone went off again in her purse. Jeannette fished it free and peered down at Tom Junior's number. She ignored the woman watching her uncomfortably and brought the device to her ear.

"Hi TJ. I'm not home, but if you and Charlotte want to come by around the usual time—"

"We're not coming for dinner, Mom," he cut in sharply.

"What do you mean you're not...?" Feeling Diane's eyes burning into her face, Jeannette turned and hurried from the store. The bell announced her escape back into the rain. She darted around the side to slip into the crevices between the shops, away from all the eyes and ears she knew were listening. "What do you mean you're not coming? It's Friday. We always have dinner—"

"Charlotte isn't feeling up to it, okay?"he said.

"Is it the baby?"

"No ... yes ... maybe." He broke off with a groan. "Look, Charlotte is really stressed, okay? After Mr. Lacroix's lawyer called and said that stuff about us losing the house and the clinic because of what you did—"

"I didn't do anything!" Jeannette cried. "I told the truth, and I was attacked—"

"Mom, Mr. Lacroix owns this entire village. You know that. Why would you be talking badly about him out in public where anyone could be listening? You put everything in jeopardy. Dad lost his place on the council for Christ sakes!"

Normally, she would tell him to watch his tongue, but it slipped her mind.

"I did nothing wrong."

TJ scoffed a laugh. "You never think so, but you fucked us all. Even grandpa who has been the Lacroix's doctor since before Thoran Lacroix was born and now he's been let go."

"Your grandfather should have retired years ago."

"That wasn't your call to make, Mom!"TJ snarled. "He's eighty years old and has no practice to return to. He has nothing. I have a baby on the way, Mom. What the hell am I supposed to do, huh? No one, not me, not dad, not Grandpa are going to get hired here and we're going to need to move. That's basically the road Mr. Lacroix is taking. For us to leave because of you."

Heart pounding, Jeannette tried to shake her head, but TJ had already hung up.

He was wrong.

How could this be Jeannette's fault? She was the one who got attacked. She had a knife put to her throat and her life threatened. She hadn't done anything. That beast had no right to rip her family apart because of some crazy whore too stupid to realize he was going to kill her.

A deserved fate, in Jeannette's opinion.

She had almost felt bad when she'd heard Thoran Lacroix was prowling the village with some girl. Jeannette had known her time was coming.

Well, she would see in the end, so would Lacroix when the authorities finally—

A dark figure rushed straight into Jeannette's path, blocking her into the cramped alley as he focused on his phone.

Jeannette recognized Lacroix's goon. The lawyer or whatever he was. The tall, dark man with the spongy white hair and harsh features. Jeannette never liked him, but liked him more than that walking muscle that followed Lacroix like a faithful dog. None of Lacroix's men were likeable, but they were fiercely loyal.

"Burkard, it's me. I want you to look into someone for me. It needs to be done quietly and discreetly. No. Report only to me. Yes, Mr. Lacroix is aware and has given the go ahead. The name? Naya Blackwell. Everything. No stone unturned. Yes, Mr. Lacroix's new wife. I'm aware. By end of week? Perfect."

Lacroix's wife? That creature got married? To whom? When?

It must be that deranged girl. Ivelle was telling Julia Kawasaki about. The one who owned Elysium Plains.

A wedding gift?

But the bigger question was, why was Thoran Lacroix looking up his new bride unless he suspects she's hiding something, and if anyone knew how to sniff out news, it was Jeannette.

It was like Christmas morning.

Heaven had opened up and smiled down on her. God really did give to those who believed.

Lips cut into the first smile she'd been blessed with since the whole unpleasant incident. Her eyes lifted to the sliver of overcast peeking down from between the buildings.

"Thank you, Lord."

Wasting no time, she swiped her phone on and pulled up her browser to type in Naya Blackwell.