Cajun Magic 02 - Voodoo for Two by Elle James Page B

Eric’s shoulders pushed back and his chest swelled. “Despite the ugliness of the chemical spill—”
    “Which wasn’t your fault,” Lucie cut in, a frown dipping between her eyes as she looked around.
    “—the Littingtons have always strived to make this business one the community could be proud of.”
    Ben had heard this line before.
    “Hey, you don’t have to preach to me.” Apparently, Lucie had heard it, too.
    Eric cleared his throat and took her hands in his. “Sorry. That is actually part of the speech I’m giving tomorrow in Bayou Miste’s town square.”
    Ben’s fists tightened. Did Eric have to hold her hands so…so much ?
    Not that he cared, or anything.
    The desk phone buzzed.
    Eric sighed and dropped her hands. “I’m sorry, but do you mind if I answer?”
    “No, go right ahead.” Lucie rubbed her hands on her skirt. “Do you want me to wait out in the hallway?”
    “No, stay right where you are.” Eric winked, punched the speakerphone button, and stared across at her. “Yes?”
    “Mr. Littington, the protesters are back at the gate.” The secretary’s voice called out over the intercom. “What do you want done? Should I call the police?”
    “No, no. They have a right to protest.” Eric lifted the receiver to his ear and punched off the speakerphone. He strode to the window and slid open the glass. A faint chant floated in. “So far, they don’t appear to be violent. As long as they don’t interfere with the employees coming in and out, leave them alone.”
    Ben didn’t envy Eric’s life. To deal with campaign opposition shenanigans was enough, but to answer to a swarm of irate environmentalists was double the pain-in-the-neck.
    Hidden behind the door, he felt more and more the amateur sleuth than the special investigator. Where was the high-powered detective he was known as in Baton Rouge? Why was he lurking behind a door, spying on Lucie LeBieu when he should be out solving murder cases?
    Fed up with himself and his grade-school techniques, he shifted to step around the door.
    A movement caught his attention and he froze.
    Lucie scooped a small speck off the desk and tossed it into the air over Eric’s head. The spec spread its tiny wings and circled around, heading toward her, making an orbit around her head. Brows drawn together, Lucie flapped her hand, shooing the bug back at Eric.
    Ben squinted. What kind of bug was it? And why was Lucie intent on directing it at Eric?
    His attention still focused on the protest below, Eric remained oblivious to Lucie’s erratic movements. “Did you tell him my father left for the day?” Eric said into the phone. He glanced back at Lucie.
    She wiggled the fingers on her upraised arm and smiled, then clamped her arm down at her side.
    Eric mouthed the word “sorry” before he turned back to the window. “No, he won’t be available for comment today.” His toe dug into the thick burgundy carpet, and then his foot stilled and his head shot up. “Me?” Another look back at Lucie.
    She stood as still as a lurking alligator, a silly, innocent smile pasted on her face. When Eric wasn’t looking, her eyes shifted upward, searching for the insect.
    What was she up to? He shifted to get a better view of the entire room.
    “Okay, okay, I’ll be right down.” Eric clicked a button on the phone and tossed it onto his desktop. Running a hand through his hair, he stepped up to Lucie. “I’m sorry, Lucie. Since my father isn’t here, they want me to come down and say a few words to the demonstrators.”
    “Is it the group that’s been carrying signs all over Bayou Miste?” Lucie asked.
    “Yeah. They won’t leave unless I talk with the reporter.”
    “Don’t they know Littington Enterprises is paying for the cleanup?”
    “Yeah, but any time chemical pollution is mentioned, the environmentalists see it as an opportunity for publicity.” He grimaced. “If I don’t say something, they could paint an unfavorable picture of my