Page 10 of Carnival Queen

She didn’t say anything, but she also didn’t roll her eyes or have a look of disgust on her face. Men didn’t usually speak to her this way. Girls were jealous and always liked to point out things they didn’t like about her. But men, even grown men, always complimented her and raved about her beauty. Not these men.

“Can I go now?” she asked softly.

“Yeah. You can go now,” said Razor.

They followed her out to the parking lot, watching to see how she would react. Her steps were slow and thoughtful. She tossed her backpack into the passenger seat and then stood for a long moment at the door. Finally, she sat behind the wheel, closed the door, and drove out of the parking lot.

“What do you make of it?” asked Clay.

“I don’t know. I think she’s everything that Deanna said, but I’m wondering if that doesn’t have more to do with her upbringing.”

“I guess we’re going to find out. Rafe and Baptiste are speaking to her mother while Tailor and Antoine are going to the dad’s office.” Razor smirked.

“I wish I had a camera.”

“Penn Carver?” asked Tailor, staring down at the man.

He looked up and swallowed, pushing back from his desk like he was ready to run. He scanned the desks outside the glass wall of his private office and obviously didn’t see what he thought he would.

“What do you want? I told them I would find it, I’ll get it done.” Tailor tilted his head and looked back at Antoine.

“Get what done? For whom?” asked Antoine.

“I-I thought you were someone else. Sorry. You do look familiar,” said Penn.

“Antoine Robicheaux, and this is my friend and business partner, Tailor Bongard.”

“Robicheaux. Right. Miss Irene and Matthew Robicheaux. You’re one of the sons or grandsons.”

“Yep. Those are my folks,” said Antoine. “We’re here to speak with you about your daughter, Lottie.”

“God, is she alright?” he asked, paling.

“Yes. She’s fine,” said Tailor, shaking his head. “Are you fine?”

“Yes. Yes, of course.”

“Where was Lottie two nights ago?” asked Antoine.

“It was my birthday,” he smiled. “We always do a big family dinner with my sister and her family, my wife’s brother, a few cousins, and neighbors. She was there the whole night. Why?”

“Lottie was angry that she wasn’t selected Mardi Gras queen and made some vague threats to the selection committee.”

“Threats? Listen, Lottie is an intense personality. Believe me, I know. But she’s all temper tantrum and stomping feet. She’ll calm down in a day or so. It’s happened before. She wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“She told the chair of the committee that they would regret not selecting her. A few hours later, someone destroyed the floats. Ripped them apart,” said Antoine. He had to give Penn credit. He frowned, a look of concern filling his face.

“I’m sure that was just her venting her frustration. She does it all the time. Look, she’s spoiled. That’s the fault of my wife and me. She’s our only one, and we’ve spoiled her rotten. Lottie tends to expect things to go her way, and we’ve given in to her. But she never acts out like that. She gets mad, pouts about it, and moves on.”

“We’re not sure she moved on from this, Penn,” said Antoine.

“I’ll speak with her tonight,” he said, standing, effectively dismissing them. “She’s always open and honest with me. If I ask her directly, she’ll tell me.”

“We appreciate that,” said Tailor. “It would be a shame if she was removed from the parade altogether.”

“You know, I have enough people threatening me,” said Penn, raising his voice in frustration. “I don’t need two jarheads doing it because of some stupid parade.”

“First of all,” said Tailor, leaning on the desk. Antoine just smirked, folding his arms across his chest. “A jarhead is a Marine. If I were one, I’d have ripped your head off for even breathing the word. We were both in the Army. My friend here was a Ranger. One of the best in the world. Don’t ever confuse it again.”

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